An Ode to Juan Williams

When teaching about stereotypes at Kennesaw State University, I often employ a time-tested exercise. In order to give my students a first-hand feel of how these simplified generalizations operate, I run through a series of social categories and ask them to provide the standard characterizations.
I begin with one that applies to me on the assumption that if I am to elicit potentially negative evaluations of others, I should demonstrate a willingness to endure these myself. Thus, I start by asking for the stereotypes of a “professor.”
Generally the initial responses trickle in. The students are not sure of where this procedure is leading and hence are understandably cautious. But soon they are volunteering that professors are thought to be “old,” “smart,” and “overly idealistic.”
Next I query them about Jews. By now they are warmed up and the stereotypes come flowing in. In short order Jews are described as “rich,” “well-educated,” “cheap” and “clannish.” After this come Italians who get labeled as “gangsters,” “loud,” and a source of “great food.”
Following this I offer up “Rednecks.” By now the room is rollicking. Since this is the Deep South almost everyone has an opinion of how rural Southerners are viewed. Having been weaned on the examples provided by Jeff Foxworthy, they are prepared to allow that they are “poorly educated,” “have rifle racks on the tops of their pick-up trucks,” and “go to family reunions to pick up girls.”
But then I get malicious. At this point I ask about African-Americans. Suddenly the class grows quiet. Now no one wants to say anything, as many students look nervously around to determine what will happen next.
Usually the ice is broken by a Black student who suggests that Blacks are not thought “very smart,” but are regarded as “good athletes” and as having “rhythm.” It is only after this that a few whites feel free to say something about Black crime.
It is here that I direct student attention to what has just occurred. We all understand why the Caucasian students were reluctant to say anything negative about African-Americans, whereas they were eager to offer all sorts of questionable evaluations of white southerners.
The fear, of course, is of being labeled a racist. My students worry that their black classmates will suddenly turn on them and accuse them of bigotry. As a result, they look to their African-American peers for permission to join in. Only after this is furnished do they say anything.
But isn’t this where we are in the United States today? People such as our President urge us to embark on a candid national conversation regarding race, but most whites are reluctant to join on the grounds that they will be subjected to the race card.
In this, unfortunately, they are too often correct. Despite all the talk of a dialogue on race, what generally ensues is a one-sided lecture. But more than this, it is a lecture enforced with the “hickory stick.” Those who say the wrong things can expect to be punished.
Anyone who doubts this should consult Juan Williams. Despite being African-American, he paid the price for politically incorrect candor. Having publicly affirmed that he gets nervous when sharing a plane with Muslims dressed in Middle-Eastern garb, he was unceremoniously fired by National Public Radio. His employers, irrespective of his role as a news analyst, deemed this unprofessional.
Many of us were scandalized by such blatant evidence of liberal bigotry, but its authors were unrepentant. Nor did news outlets such as The New York Times deem this worthy of editorial notice. For them, it was business as usual.
This is why Williams deserves our respect. He had the courage to be honest in a world that does not always reward honesty. Unlike my students, he did not look around to determine what was safe. He merely spoke from conviction and was forced to live with the consequences.
We would do well to follow his example, even if it means enduring unwarranted criticism.
Melvyn L. Fein. Ph.D.
Professor of Sociology
Kennesaw State University