Hidden Bias: Accurate or Not?

Today in class we took a test online to discover if we have any conscious or unconscious bias towards one race or another, focusing specifically on African Americans and European Americans. My result said that I had a slight automatic preferance to whites over blacks because of the speed of my responses to the test. However, I do not neccessarily believe this test was all that accurate. I believe that it is more due to the order of the photos we were shown. We were told to first link photos to European American or Good, and then asked to link photos to African American or Good. My mind was used to linking the first two ideas by the time the second set came, so it took a moment longer to adjust to the change. I really think that it was the order that caused my delayed reactions to the African American part of the test, so I do not believe that this is an accurate method of testing bias towards one race or another. Although I do not believe this was a very reliable test, I do think my result was probably accurate. I do not think I am racist by any means, but becasue I live in a predominatly Caucasion society, I think I have a natural tendancy to lean towards whites. When I go away to summer programs, I generally make friends first with other white kids. I do not do this because of the color of their skin, it really is just who I click with first, but I understand that it also could have to do with who I am more familiar with or relate to on a surface level automatically. I have nothing against people of other races, and I have many friends who are African American, Hispanic, Asian, or another minority that I am not surrounded by as frequently. I do not think of them as being a certain race or from a certain culture. It is not a factor in my relationships with them at all. Still, I do notice that the first people I tend to associate myself with are people who look more like me. This might mean, white, or brunet, or just soemone who is short, but I think it is easy to make these unconscious conections between oneself and a stranger. While I do not believe I am racist or act differently towards one race than another, I do see why I might have an unconscious tendancy to link myself with my own race over others. Nonetheless, I think this test was inaccurate and unreliable because of the order the pairs were set in.

The Freedom Writers Diary: It's Never Too Late To Change Your Future

Wrapping up the book were entries from the students as they were preparing to graduate high school. The book covered their lives from the freshman year to senior year. The reader sees incredible growth in each and every one of the students. They were all originally assigned to Ms. Gruwell's class because they were considered the bottom of the barrol. They were a lost cause, according to the principal, and Ms. Gruwell would be lucky if she even got them to make the occasional appearance in her class. Nobody had any faith in these students. Not their teachers, not their parents, not their peers, and not even themselves. That is what makes this story such a miracle. Ms. Gruwell inspired them to change their own futures. Some of the students said they didn't believe they would even make it to graduation due to drugs and gang violence, but they did it. They graduated after four years with Ms. Gruwell. They went from being the worst, most troubled kids at the high school, to being some of the brightest, most passionate students with articles written about them in People magazine and becoming the talk of the school.
This entry, Diary Entry 131, shows the immense transformation that occurred in each of these students. This entry was written by a boy who had only transferred into the class his junior year. His mom worked tirelessly to get him into the class in the hope that some of these other students' hard work would rub off on him. When he was younger, he had dreamed of being a professional football player. He used to play on a team with other kids, but by the end of sixth grade, he became too addicted to pot and alcohol to care about football anymore. He dropped his friends and began smoking five times a day. When weed and alcohol wasn't enough for him anymore, he began doing harder drugs, such as shrooms, uppers, downers, acid (LSD), and nitrous. He couldn't go a day without getting high. It was all that mattered to him. When he was switched into Ms. Gruwell's class his junior year, he was failing out of most of his subjects in school. It simply didn't interest him as much as getting high did. With the help and support of his new classmates, he turned his life completely around. He went from earning Fs in his classes, to being the second highest A in his chemistry course. He tried out for the football team, after having abandoned it for years, and he made it. That wasn't even the most incredible part though. He was offered a full ride to college for his academic achievments as well as his talents on the field. He would be playing college football just like he had always dreamed he would do.
It was the closing lines of his entry that really speak wonders about this student, and all of Ms. Gruwell's other students for that matter. He said, "I know I have what it takes and I am going to do what it takes to make it to my next goal, a college degree and an NFL career!" This young mad had gone from being a drug addicted, alcoholic, troubled teenager who couldn't care less about his grades or his old dream of being a football player, to being an A student and being recruited for college football. In only two years, he completely re-wrote his future.
It's easy to give up and think that life will never turn around once you've hit the bottom. I know that isn't true though. Stories like this happen all the time. It takes hard work and dedication, but it is never too late. My sister got mixed up in the wrong group in high school. Her freshman year, she was hanging out with kids who smoked and drank and did drugs all the time. Although she never wanted to do these things, she still wanted to be friends with them. In addition to her low GPA, she had completely dropped ice-skating, a hobby she had loved since preschool. Finally, she dropped that group of friends when they started trying to pressure her into doing the drugs like they were. She realized that that wasn't who she was, and as hard as it was to start over, she said goodbye to those old friends and started over. She began hanging out with the same kids she was friends with in elementary school. It was a hard transition and scary at times to try to start over in high school, but she did what she felt she had to do. And she was right. Her GPA climbed way up, her relationship with our parents and with my improved immensely, and she dedicated all of here time to ice-skating again. She would practice before and after school and travel on the weekends for competitions with a synchronized skating team. She even became captain her senior year. Now she is graduating from Indiana University with high honors and from a sorority in which she held important positions throughout her years there. She's not the same girl she was at the beginning of high school and it was her own hard work and determination that turned her life around. I know that anyone can make this same kind of change in their life if they really try. Even when you think that you have already established yourself in one role in the community, no matter how horrible your reputation and your history might be, you can always turn it around. Students like the one who wrote Diary 131, and even like my sister, are proof of this. I just hope more people in these kind of tough situations can find the same inspiration and strength that these students did and turn their lives around as well.

The Freedom Writers Diary: The Freedom Riders

I have to admit, I am kind of embarrassed to say that I never made the connection as to where the title of the book came from until Diary Entry Number 75. The student who wrote this entry talked about how inspiring the lessons they learned about the Freedom Riders in the 1960s were. These riders risked their reputations, and even their lives, to fight for equality and show that race is not a factor any more. Whites and blacks were not allowed to sit together on public transportation, so to protest, these young men and women sat on the bus together. Whites sat next to blacks and they traveled the across the country showing the world that change was possible and that their were people willing to fight for it. The student who wrote this entry was the only white person in Ms. Gruwell's class when the class first began. He was scared of the other students because they were all minorities. His friends made fun of him associating himself with the non-white students. With time, however, he developed incredible relationships with the other students in the class. Inside that classroom, they didn't care about the race or religion, they only cared about the kind of people they were inside. They cared about each other's morals, their dedication to the group, and their passion for brining about a real change in this world. These were exactly the ideas behind the Freedom Riders. Most importantly though, the students, like the riders, wanted to teach these same ideals to others. They wanted to spread peace throughout the nation, just as these students strived to do through their writing. What inspired this student the most, was that there was a white man involved in the Freedom Riders who this boy related to very much. Jim Zwerg was a white man fighting for what man believed was a black man's cause. This student was in the same boat. Both were fighting for a cause that was more for the rights and treatment of others than of themselves. Both encouraged other whites to join with the minority. Jim got other whites to ride on the busses, and this student got his white friends to sign up to join Ms. Gruwell's class because he made them realize that they didn't have to be segregated in school based on race or status in the community! He made a change all on his own. He opened the eyes of those around him and was inspired to do so by Jim Zwerg. What this specific diary entry made me realize more than any of the others before it, is that these students found certain role models in history, from places all around the world, and used them to inspire their actions and inspire them to make change. People always say that we should learn from history so it doesn't repeat itself. But they never say we should learn from history so it CAN repeat itself. There have been so many remarkable people who sacrificed everything for the betterment of mankind and looking to them for inspiration will only continue to change the world for the better. I think we each need our own historical role model to inspire us to repeat the good parts of history. To remind us to fight for freedom and equality and to never give up until we have made the change we set out to make. I don't know who my historical role model is yet, but I do know that Ms. Gruwell is great modern role model. So for now, the example she has set of spreading peace through educating others will have to be enough.

The Freedom Writers Diary: Close Your Eyes and We're All the Same

It is absolutely remarkable to think of what a difference the color of a person's skin, or their geographic location on this giant rock we live on, can make in how we compare ourselves to one another. This concept really hit me in the diary entries from the students about a girl named Zlata. She was fifteen years old when she wrote a diary that eventually got published. She lived a life much like Anne Frank, hiding from those who wanted to kill her, not because of who she was, but because of the group that she represented. The students in Ms. Gruwell's class were so inspired by Zlata's bravery and strength, that they wrote her letters telling her how her story changed their lives and fundraised enough money to fly Zlata, her parents, and her best friend to America to meet the students and answer their questions about her incredible tale. When the students finally met their role model, they were shocked to discover how similar she was to them. One student wrote about how her and Zlata were wearing the exact same pair of shoes! She realized that they listened to the same music and that they actually had a lot in common. All of the students came to realize this rather quickly.
Zlata actually did an amazing job of putting this connection they had into words. In fact, she managed to put all of the human races's connection into words. This girl, who was only fifteen years old, was wise beyond her years. She had endured more pain and terror than anyone should ever have to, but she had come up on top. She let the hardships of her life help her grow into an incredibly insightful and motivational woman. In Diary Entry Number 47, one of the students was recalling the Question and Answer session Zlata held with these students and their parents. It's rather a long passage, but it really speaks wonders about her wisdom and the truth about the human race. She wrote that "a couple of adults asked her what ethnicity she was, Croatian? Muslim? Serbian? I was upset that instead of getting the message that she was trying to convey, they were too preoccupied with what nationality she was. Were these the same adults that preached how wrong racism and discrimination are? Were these the same people that a minute ago agreed that we shouldn't care about labels? Zlata looked around, stared at us, and simply said, ' I'm a human being.' "And there it is. There's the sad truth about the human race. Some people will never be able to see beyond race, religion, or origin to really see someone for who they are. As much as people like to tell the world that they hold no prejudices, that they could never discriminate and accept every person equally, most people still subconsciously fall to that default setting we have been taught of judging people based on their appearance or the stereotype they would fall into. Some people can't find it in themselves to really see all people equally. Some people, however, don't see those boundaries at all. Some people don't even notice a difference in appearance or a difference in backgrounds. These are the people that will someday make this world into a better place. I have faith that it is people like Zlata and the students whose lives she touched, that will transform the way people compare themselves to one another. I'm not saying that I expect every person on this planet to be able to respond the question of "what ethnicity are you" with the answer of "I'm a human being," but I do think with time, more will.
We are more similar than we let ourselves believe. Categorizing people into groups by their skin color is like categorizing them by their blood type or the length of their eyelashes. What does that have to do with who they are as a person? Where is the logic in separating people into groups by factors they have no control over? It makes no sense at all. There is only one logical group. We are human beings. Each and every one of us. We all belong in that group together. Why is this such a difficult concept? Why is it so hard for people to except this equality? What makes us feel the need to separate ourselves into a select group of individuals that are superior all others? Why can't people accept Zlata's message?
We are all human beings.

The Freedom Writers Diary: Change Is Within Our Reach, All We Have To Do Is Stretch

While laying sprawled out on my floor this afternoon doing my issues homework, with my friend doing her English homework on the couch, we both came across very inspiring quotes about change. She read a poem out loud to me titled, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, written by T. S. Eliot, and I was struck by how perfectly it related to the journal entry I was in the middle of from Freedom Writers. The line that really stuck out to me was, "In a minute there is time for decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse." I kept re-playing that line in my head over and over again. What an incredibly powerful idea! In just a minute, you could change the world. In just one minute you could alter a million lives completely, for better or worse. And in just a minute, that opportunity could be gone. We all have the power to change the world around us, but we have to dedicate the time and effort to do it. We have to be willing to risk everything for change and we can not waste any time. Hannah stopped me in the middle of my reading of Diary entry 43 to read this poem to me, and ironically, Entry 43 was about the poem Moment, by Vincent Guilliano, which is all about determining the importance of change. Ms. Gruwell asked her class a very intriguing question. She asked, "If you could live an eternity and not change a thing or exist for the blink of an eye and alter everything, what would you choose?" (87). There are obvious pros and cons to each option even without reading the poem, but after reading what this question was based off of, I realized that there was a whole other element to this question. The poem said:

Let him wish his life

For the sorrows of a stone

Never knowing the first thread

Of these

Never knowing the pain of ice

As its crystals slowly grow

Needles Pressing in on the heart

To live forever

And never feel a thing

To wait a million lifetimes

Only to erode and become sand

Wish not for the stone

But for the fire

Last only moments

but change everything

Oh to be lightning

To exist for less than a moment

Yet in that moment

To expose the world to every open eye

Oh to be thunder

To clap and ring

To rumble into memories

Minds and spines

To chill the soul and shake the very ground

Pounding even the sand

Into smaller pieces

Or the mountain

Brooding, extinct

Yet gathering for one fatal moment

The power to blow the top clean off the world

Oh to last the blink of an eye and leave nothing

but nothing unmoved behind you

This poem is not simply about deciding whether or not change matters, but it is about asking yourself how much you would be willing to sacrifice to bring about change. To bring about a real change in the world, to dedicate your life to making change, chances are you will miss out on a million opportunities that others experience in life. When a scientist dedicates himself to finding a cure for cancer, he spends every waking moment in his lab conducting research. He misses his children's dance recitals and baseball championships. He misses the moments of joy and the moments of heart break. He sacrifices his personal life completely to give every fiber of his being to the cause. He surrenders his own selfish desires for the chance of saving the lives of complete strangers. He chooses to do so. When a reporter travels to a war zone to uncover the truth about a war or genocide, she risks her own life for the story. She puts herself in deadly situations to discover the details behind the war. She risks her safety and potentially risks her life for the chance to expose the true evil behind the war and find justice. These people risk everything for the complete strangers in the world around them. From reading this poem, I, along with the students in Ms. Gruwell's class, learned that it is worth the ultimate sacrifice to change the world. When you see injustice, you must do everything within your power to put an end to it otherwise the world will continue to turn into the corrupt, cruel world that it already become. If nobody is willing to put their own needs aside in order to dedicate the time and effort to making change, there really is nothing in this world worth living for. You could stay on this earth for eternity without seeing change, and then what would you be left with? Nothing but misery and pain and destruction. I would rather be on this planet for only the blink of an eye and solve one true horror in the world, like ending the use child soldiers, than stay on this planet for eternity and do nothing to change it into a better world.

The Freedom Writers Diary: Another World Just Outside Our Doors

Reading The Freedom Writers Diary has completely changed my view on America. I always hear stories on the news and in school about the horrible violence going on in other countries. I am constantly hearing about the monstrosities occurring in Uganda with Invisible Children and about the ongoing attacks in nations such as Iraq and Afghanistan. It is rare, however, that I hear stories of the violence occurring within my own nation. I live in a safe, upscale community where I don't have to worry about being shot on my way to school or gunned down at the gas station. I am blessed to live in such a sheltered community but I let that make me ignorant of the violence and heart break that kids my age, in my country, and even in my state, are suffering from. The Freedom Writers Diary has opened my eyes to the reality of this nation. The students who wrote this book were fighting a war. Not a war like the ones going on overseas in Africa or Iraq, but the kind of war that goes undeclared and ignored by the government. A war where kids are killing kids for no other reason than the color of their skin, their family's origin, or their religious affiliations. All across America, gang violence is taking the lives of hundreds, even, thousands, of innocent children. This is a world that I never was able to understand, and perhaps never will be able to if I never experience it first hand, but thanks to these students' incredible bravery and willingness to open up to complete strangers, I am able to understand this undeclared war among America's youth better than ever before.
Within the first few diary entries, it became clear that the teenagers I was reading about were experiencing a completely different adolescence than I had ever known. It was an entry from a young boy, talking about the death of his best friend. One of the most frightening parts of the entry was that this was not a shocking and tragic event in his community. I learned this right off the bat when he wrote that "Someone said, 'Not another one,' while his friends were swearing that they would get revenge. 'An eye for an eye… payback's a bitch.'" (14). A young boy, still in the prime of life, had just been murdered and to the community it was just another death; another opportunity for violence. There have been several accidents in the last few years in Deerfield that have taken the lives of teenagers and almost every member of this town could say the name of the girl or boy who died, a brief description of who they were and what they were like, as well as the story of how they died. In Deerfield, the death of a minor is a tragedy that sticks with the community and is remembered for years. It was difficult to wrap my mind around the idea of this being a common occurrence in a neighborhood. The writer of this journal entry went on to describe the scene of the murder and what it was like to find his best friend dead. He wrote, "They didn't know that he was my friend and that he had this whole life ahead of him. He was gunned down for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn't pay attention to what they were saying. I just stood there, looking at my friend's blood on the floor. He had never harmed anyone is his entire life. What were his parents going to do? What was I going to do?" (15). Thousands of kids all across America see these kinds of sights in the first few years of their lives. They see their friend's blood splashed across the pavement and know that their best friend's life was taken simply to show that one gang has more power than another. One senseless death after another and it makes no difference to the person who killed them. I thank God that I do not have to live in this kind of fear of losing my best friends or my sister at any moment simply for crossing the street. I had only just begun reading the touching stories of Erin Gruwell's students, but already I could tell that this book was one that would stick with me; one that would teach me the truth about the nation I live in; expose me to the life I could have had simply by being born just a few dozen miles away, in the gang violence that destroys the youth of Chicago.