Yes, its not until they attend racism classes in primary school that they learn racism.uziq wrote:
racism is not innate. have you ever seen children at a kindergarten? they don't separate into races or tribes.
Fuck Israel
Yes, its not until they attend racism classes in primary school that they learn racism.uziq wrote:
racism is not innate. have you ever seen children at a kindergarten? they don't separate into races or tribes.
I know you're trying to be sarcastic, but this really does conclude the argument. "Racism is a learned behavior," there.Dilbert_X wrote:
Yes, its not until they attend racism classes in primary school that they learn racism.uziq wrote:
racism is not innate. have you ever seen children at a kindergarten? they don't separate into races or tribes.
There's actually a body cam video of the whole thing. Cops standing around laughing while the kid is on the ground with his brain melting from a shot of pure Special K. I am surprised these cops were charged with anything.A Colorado grand jury issued criminal charges against three police officers and two paramedics in the 2019 death of Elijah McClain, a young Black man who had been walking home when he was stopped by the police, put into a chokehold and injected with a powerful anesthetic, the attorney general of Colorado announced on Wednesday.
Attorney General Phil Weiser, who had been named as a special prosecutor in the case, announced the 32-count indictment almost exactly two years to the day after Mr. McClain’s death.
The three police officers and two paramedics involved in Mr. McClain’s death in Aurora, Colo., just east of Denver, will each face one charge of manslaughter and criminally negligent homicide, Mr. Weiser said. The defendants also face a variety of assault charges.
...
The death of Mr. McClain, a 23-year-old Black man whom friends and family described as a gentle person who loved animals and taught himself to play the violin, touched off protests across Denver and a flurry of investigations, lawsuits and demands for policing reforms.
Mr. McClain had been walking home from a convenience store when he was stopped by three Aurora police officers responding to a 911 call about a suspicious person. The officers tackled Mr. McClain and put him in a type of chokehold that restricts blood to the brain. Paramedics arriving at the scene then injected Mr. McClain with ketamine, a rapid-acting anesthetic commonly used during surgical procedures in both animals and humans.
Mr. McClain was taken unconscious to the hospital and never recovered. He was taken off life support and died on Aug. 30, 2019.
Mr. McClain was unarmed and had not been suspected of committing any crime. As officers used force to subdue him, Mr. McClain repeatedly apologized to the officers and said he could not breathe: “I can’t breathe, please!” he said at one point.
The cruelly ironic thing is that someone called the police on the kid for wearing a mask outside when he went to the store. The store owner wasn't bothered by it because she knew that the kid was polite and a little autistic. This was all before COVID. Kid died for doing something we beg people to do now. I wonder how that makes his loved ones feel?unnamednewbie13 wrote:
PoLiCe WoN'T WaNt To Do ThEiR jObS!
unnamednewbie13 wrote:
PoLiCe WoN'T WaNt To Do ThEiR jObS!
Oh wow I found an outlier example of a cat and rat who get along, clearly cats hunting rats is not innate behaviour.unnamednewbie13 wrote:
I know you're trying to be sarcastic, but this really does conclude the argument. "Racism is a learned behavior," there.
Kids don't do all their learning in school. Friends, family, community: social interactions teach.
but don't listen to the black schoolteacher with a degree in educational psychology – one of the only books by a black caribbean woman to be published in 20th century britain. listen to dilbert's analogies with ... cats. he's an expert. he knows lots and lots.In 1945, 21-year-old Beryl Answick graduated with a first class diploma from the teacher training college in Georgetown, capital of what was then British Guiana. Guyanese education at the time was rigid and the (tamarind) rod much in evidence: ‘Children ... were expected to know certain facts, the relevance of which did not always matter,’ she remembered. Chafing at these conventions, Answick (who became Beryl Gilroy on her marriage in 1954) moved to London in 1951 to study educational psychology at the University of London. She was one of very few teachers from the Caribbean in England in the 1950s; another was her friend E.R. Braithwaite, the author of To Sir, with Love (1959), a catalyst for her own later self-reckoning in Black Teacher. When she began to look for a teaching post, Gilroy was frustrated at every turn, the target of a widespread suspicion founded in an ignorance that could be described as folkloric were the baiting about cannibalism and washing not so vicious. In her memoir she presents herself both as object and subject of her story. Both perspectives offer first-hand testimony of wrongs done and not dusted.
First published in 1976, Black Teacher records the bewildering self-consciousness inflicted on Gilroy by British society: ‘My life at school was clouded by an obsessive interest in my “blackness”. It seemed that no one could forget it ... It was difficult, at times, not to become the traditional black with the traditional chip on the shoulder ... there was, for instance, the usually unspoken implication that there was something sinister about “black hands”.’ She ‘began looking at my hands, almost as if I were seeing them for the first time ... I was nervous about picking things up. I was especially nervous when it came to buttoning up the children’s coats.’ Rather than endure the staffroom, she took refuge in her classroom at lunchtime.
Children, she writes, ‘are not born with race and colour prejudice. They absorb it from the adults around them.’ Gilroy countered the bigotry, or at times the simple stupidity, of colleagues, parents and the children who parroted what they heard, with a storyteller’s verve. When asked by one of her co-workers what ‘natives’ do when they have their ‘monthlies’, she replied: ‘Well, Sue, we swim! We jump into the nearest river and swim and swim for miles. Some of us swim for three days and some for four, but that’s what we do.’ Her account of London in the period is as sharp as anything by Barbara Comyns or Muriel Spark.
LOL sound familiar?docile nihilism, resignation and complacent ethnic absolutism reign unchallenged while the seductions of the alt right – to which they are kin – present a growing danger.
Last edited by uziq (2021-09-02 01:51:24)
Thats great and all but doesn't explain why the world isn't as she thinks it should be.uziq wrote:
but don't listen to the black schoolteacher with a degree in educational psychology – one of the only books by a black caribbean woman to be published in 20th century britain. listen to dilbert's analogies with ... cats. he's an expert. he knows lots and lots.In 1945, 21-year-old Beryl Answick graduated with a first class diploma from the teacher training college in Georgetown, capital of what was then British Guiana. Guyanese education at the time was rigid and the (tamarind) rod much in evidence: ‘Children ... were expected to know certain facts, the relevance of which did not always matter,’ she remembered. Chafing at these conventions, Answick (who became Beryl Gilroy on her marriage in 1954) moved to London in 1951 to study educational psychology at the University of London. She was one of very few teachers from the Caribbean in England in the 1950s; another was her friend E.R. Braithwaite, the author of To Sir, with Love (1959), a catalyst for her own later self-reckoning in Black Teacher. When she began to look for a teaching post, Gilroy was frustrated at every turn, the target of a widespread suspicion founded in an ignorance that could be described as folkloric were the baiting about cannibalism and washing not so vicious. In her memoir she presents herself both as object and subject of her story. Both perspectives offer first-hand testimony of wrongs done and not dusted.
First published in 1976, Black Teacher records the bewildering self-consciousness inflicted on Gilroy by British society: ‘My life at school was clouded by an obsessive interest in my “blackness”. It seemed that no one could forget it ... It was difficult, at times, not to become the traditional black with the traditional chip on the shoulder ... there was, for instance, the usually unspoken implication that there was something sinister about “black hands”.’ She ‘began looking at my hands, almost as if I were seeing them for the first time ... I was nervous about picking things up. I was especially nervous when it came to buttoning up the children’s coats.’ Rather than endure the staffroom, she took refuge in her classroom at lunchtime.
Children, she writes, ‘are not born with race and colour prejudice. They absorb it from the adults around them.’ Gilroy countered the bigotry, or at times the simple stupidity, of colleagues, parents and the children who parroted what they heard, with a storyteller’s verve. When asked by one of her co-workers what ‘natives’ do when they have their ‘monthlies’, she replied: ‘Well, Sue, we swim! We jump into the nearest river and swim and swim for miles. Some of us swim for three days and some for four, but that’s what we do.’ Her account of London in the period is as sharp as anything by Barbara Comyns or Muriel Spark.
https://www.allenandunwin.com/browse/bo … 0571367733
see comments above about 'docile nihilism and complacency'.Dilbert_X wrote:
Thats great and all but doesn't explain why the world isn't as she thinks it should be.uziq wrote:
but don't listen to the black schoolteacher with a degree in educational psychology – one of the only books by a black caribbean woman to be published in 20th century britain. listen to dilbert's analogies with ... cats. he's an expert. he knows lots and lots.In 1945, 21-year-old Beryl Answick graduated with a first class diploma from the teacher training college in Georgetown, capital of what was then British Guiana. Guyanese education at the time was rigid and the (tamarind) rod much in evidence: ‘Children ... were expected to know certain facts, the relevance of which did not always matter,’ she remembered. Chafing at these conventions, Answick (who became Beryl Gilroy on her marriage in 1954) moved to London in 1951 to study educational psychology at the University of London. She was one of very few teachers from the Caribbean in England in the 1950s; another was her friend E.R. Braithwaite, the author of To Sir, with Love (1959), a catalyst for her own later self-reckoning in Black Teacher. When she began to look for a teaching post, Gilroy was frustrated at every turn, the target of a widespread suspicion founded in an ignorance that could be described as folkloric were the baiting about cannibalism and washing not so vicious. In her memoir she presents herself both as object and subject of her story. Both perspectives offer first-hand testimony of wrongs done and not dusted.
First published in 1976, Black Teacher records the bewildering self-consciousness inflicted on Gilroy by British society: ‘My life at school was clouded by an obsessive interest in my “blackness”. It seemed that no one could forget it ... It was difficult, at times, not to become the traditional black with the traditional chip on the shoulder ... there was, for instance, the usually unspoken implication that there was something sinister about “black hands”.’ She ‘began looking at my hands, almost as if I were seeing them for the first time ... I was nervous about picking things up. I was especially nervous when it came to buttoning up the children’s coats.’ Rather than endure the staffroom, she took refuge in her classroom at lunchtime.
Children, she writes, ‘are not born with race and colour prejudice. They absorb it from the adults around them.’ Gilroy countered the bigotry, or at times the simple stupidity, of colleagues, parents and the children who parroted what they heard, with a storyteller’s verve. When asked by one of her co-workers what ‘natives’ do when they have their ‘monthlies’, she replied: ‘Well, Sue, we swim! We jump into the nearest river and swim and swim for miles. Some of us swim for three days and some for four, but that’s what we do.’ Her account of London in the period is as sharp as anything by Barbara Comyns or Muriel Spark.
https://www.allenandunwin.com/browse/bo … 0571367733