CASE STUDY: THE CASE OF ROSA N.*
In many parts of the world the kind of blatant racism, sexism,and discrimination
described in the denial section of this chapter is becomingless common. Two such
places are The Netherlands and California, both of which havethe reputation of
being racially progressive and tolerant when compared to otherEuropean countries
or U.S. states. People articulate the virtues of pluralism,deny the presence of racism
in their communities, and condemn its presence in othersocieties. One would
expect them, and the organizations that operate within them,to be sites in which
race is not an important part of people's everydayexperiences. Philomena Essed
decided to test this assumption through a very simpleprocess—conducting extensive interviews with 55 black women abouttheir everyday experiences, both at work and outside of theirorganizations. Rosa N. was typical of these women.
She was born in Suriname in 1951, but lost both parents beforeage 10. Her mother's sister adopted her and raised her along withfour other daughters. After finishing high school in Suriname shereceives a scholarship to study medicine in The Netherlands whereshe specialized in geriatrics. She married a Dutch man. When Essedinterviewed her, she was an intern in a medical research complex.She had never been physically molested; her life had never beenthreatened. She rarely has had to deal with blatant "bigots;" hasbeen called a "black whore" only once; is gifted and successful.So, as Essed says, "What is the problem?" Her answer, based on allof her interviews, is that race is subtlety woven into the fabricof everyday life. And dealing with is complicated by the notionthat "racism just doesn't happen here" and with her coworkers'fervent belief that they are not racist. As Rosa says, "If you wantto say something about racism, you've got to state your case verywell. . . otherwise they tackle you... and they make you lookridiculous." You appear to be overly sensitive, and overlyemotional.
For the only Black woman in her med school (and the only blackwoman physician in her medical center), "fitting in" was almostimpossible for Rosa. Even when she didn't feel different than theDutch, her fellow students reminded her that she wasn't like them.She remembered making a phone call in a dorm when a Dutch man said"There's Rosa with that laugh of hers." She was laughing loudly, asSurinamese people do. But, she doesn't do it anymore, except whenshe is alone with her husband Rob; nor does she use any of theother aspects of the communicative style of her homeland: "It wasalways getting thrown in my face."
Rosa was more often offended by the way in which other membersof minority groups— especially Turks and Moroccans—were treatedthan by the way she was treated. In a surgery class a professortalked about an industrial accident in which a Turk had sliced openhis hand (which eventually became so infected that it had to beamputated). He repeatedly insulted his patient: "That stupid Turk.His hand is not a can!" He made fun of another "stupid foreigner"who had lost his heel in an industrial accident. He never explainedthat "foreigners" are more prone to industrial accidents becausethe Dutch do not do dangerous factory work, foreigners do. Rosarecalled:
The students thought it was real funny. They don't give itmuch thought, because it arouses a kind of hilarity when it's toldthat way. Then everybody laughs about it. . . .I waited until theman was finished. The lights went on, I told him he should makeremarks like that again because they are offensive, and I chosethat attitude because I thought: I must not becomeuncontrolled,
agitated, or aggressive (1991, pp. 149-150).
And then one time in a general health class, this extremelystupid civil servant blamed the foreigners for overpopulation. Isaid something about that then, but
what struck me was that someone said: oh, there's Rosa withthat racism again... . And I thought, I'll turn in a complaint.But—and that really disappointed me—when I asked a few people I goton well with if they would testify, the one said, like no, becauseI have a child and a job I don't want to lose.... Then I spoke withmy advisor, and he gave me some literature which showed that it hasnever been demonstrated that foreigners cause overpopulation.[However, because the Dutch reproduction rate is negative and theirimmigration policy allows immigrants into the country to do menialjobs, the proportion of foreigners in the population is growing]. Ivery politely sent the man a letter. He sent such a nasty letterback.
It was a totally degrading letter that ... attacked me onpersonal points: that I had used my boss's FAX number—while my bosshad even approved my letter (1991, p. 50).
In fact, race infused comments were made directly to her instrange ways. A student introduced a patient who had genital herpesby noting that she was Surinamese. Then "he looked at me and said:sorry. I thought, what's all this? Why in God's name does he say`sorry?!' Then another student patted me on the back [insympathy]." The student went on to say,"Oh, yeah women in Surinamehave more than one man. I jumped in immediate with,
then everyone in Suriname must have herpes!" When Rosa cameback after lunch, her boss "came up and said: you reacted in a wayin which you did not want to react. That was true enough.... Butafterward, what surprised me was [that] he said it's because I'mSurinamese. Anything at all can happen, and [people interpret it asme] reacting as a Surinamese [rather than me reacting as me].
Sometimes race was reflected in pronoun choice. The Dutchlanguage has a formal form of address, used with people who areolder or of higher social status or organizational rank (" U') andan informal form ("pi"), used with younger or lower-status persons(much like the words "vous" and "tu" in French). But, Rosa foundthat the Dutch used jij to refer to her, even when they knew shewas a physician. And, even when she was addressed formally, thesame people treated other Surinamese employees as children. Rosaconcluded her interview with Essed with the followingstatement:
I used to think, when I am a doctor, this will be in the past,then I'll have proved myself, but no such thing. Then the long,hard road begins. Then you start to notice that you aren't thereyet, that the fight has just begun. I would really like for it tobe over, because I'd like to just be able to live. I'd find itwonderful if I could just feel good with my job and not have athird-rate position in the job. If you spend all your timecompeting, then it never stops. I participate in this consciouslyand take care that I don't backslide. I think: just keep it up. Iread a lot more about discrimination now—but then, not so muchabout Holland, because you don't' get any further if you keep onthinking only about how they do that and they do that and they dothat (1991, p. 156).
Rosa's story is echoed by other minority women in othercultures. The black
women that Essed interviewed in California all told ofexperiences like Rosa's.
Many of the Latinas that Denise Segura interviewed talkedabout subtle discrimination, comments that devalue their culture ortheir gender/ethnicity—"that subtle baloney that people pass overyou because they think that women of color aren't as brilliant asthey [Anglos] are," as one phrased it. A Latina with a lightcomplexion recalled that people tell her "you have a funny accent.And I say, I'm Mexican.' And people are really surprised. They say,`You don't look Mexican.' And so I ask, `How many Mexican people doyou know? And they say, "Oh, just you. (p. 303)."'
Answer the following questions base on what you haveleaned.
1. Which of the taken-for-granted assumptions of Rosa'ssociety influence her experiences? How do those influencesoperate?
2. Can Rosa fit in to her society/organization? What effectswould trying to do so have on her and her
work relationships?
3. What kind of "diversity" training programs should Rosa'sorganization develop to deal with "everyday racism?" Why would youmake those choices?
4. What intended and unintended consequences is a program likethe one you've described likely to have? Why?
