I’m not convinced Amy Cooper is a racist, but …
I am convinced that she represents a threat to blacks in America that is today far more harmful than racists. I believe Amy Cooper represents an untold number of whites who are willing to use the power available to them as a result of the prevalence of racial bias in this country. Amy Cooper did not create this reality, and she likely has not intentionally sought to sustain it. In fact, she may have even gone so far as to decry it. But all the while, she was aware of the power it afforded her and was willing to use that power.
The natural inclination is to demonize Amy so my conscience is clear on the difference between she and I. But then we learn nothing because we are not demons. So, for learning’s sake, let’s maintain that Amy is no demon. Amy, simply made use of undeserved power that was available to her for her own convenience. Her sin is no more malicious than the sin of one who occasionally uses their employer’s resources for minor personal business. Normally, they would print, sign, and scan it at home, but it was just more convenient to do it at the office. Normally, Amy wouldn’t exploit the prevalent racial biases in this country, but doing so was more convenient than losing the argument and leashing her dog …
Immediately you are repulsed by this comparison to something so trivial. Yes! That is precisely the point. It is reprehensible to compare the cost of a sheet of paper and blots of ink to the centuries of physical, emotional, and intellectual abuse that purchased the power Amy Cooper used in Central Park. It is abhorrent to compare the potential consequence of someone needing to restock paper one sheet earlier to the potential consequence of Christian Cooper becoming another George Floyd. Indeed it is difficult to find a fair comparison to the cost and potential consequences of the power she used that day.
However, only Amy Cooper knows what Amy Cooper assessed as the cost and potential consequences of her use of that power. But does it matter? Whether she considered her use of that undeserved power as trivial as using the work printer or as significant as murder, the impact on Christian Cooper would be the same. Of course it matters in our judgment of her demonism. We’d prefer to think she knew the significance of her actions and is therefore a bad person so unlike ourselves. But what if she’s not? What if she genuinely did not consider the significance of the cost and potential consequences of her actions? What if she’s not bad, like us?
It is my opinion that in America today, the Amys that are ‘like us’ are the greater threat to black America. Thankfully, the demonic Amys have largely declined in impact in this country. David Duke and his relatively few associates have a far lesser impact on the lives of black Americans than the Amy coworkers, bosses, neighbors, loan officers, and government officials. I believe that whites who ignore (knowingly or unknowingly) the significance of the prevalence of racial bias in this country – even if they never avail themselves of its power – are a greater threat than the most ardent racists of today. If Amy was ignorant of the significance of her actions, she did not procure this ignorance in a vacuum. By their silence, other whites in her life – who may never be guilty of the slightest racial insensitivity – contributed to this ignorance.
Perhaps this is too strong of an opinion. It wouldn’t be the first time I’m wrong. However, I believe I can take this strong position because I am also Amy. As a male in a male-dominated profession, I have undeserved power available to me as a result of the prevalence of gender bias in this country. I didn’t create this reality. I have not intentionally sought to sustain it and I even go so far as to decry it. But all the while, I am aware of the reality that the mere suggestion that a woman’s emotions have affected her decisions can afford me great power.
So now that I’m Amy, am I aware of the significance of the cost and potential consequences of my use of this undeserved power? Frankly, it’s very tempting for me to not be. I’m not a woman! It’s tempting for me to use this as an excuse for not knowing something of the history of workplace gender inequality, or not understanding common gender misconceptions, or not challenging my possible implicit gender biases, or not being willing to listen to women share their stories. It’s also tempting to ignore these things because, if I’m not acquainted with the significance of this issue, I’m less of a demon if I do use a little of my undeserved power here and there.
So what can we Amy’s do? What I try to do is acquaint myself with the costs and potential consequences of the undeserved power I have access to. I try to familiarize myself with the stories of those who do not have access to that power. I try to be mindful of my inclination to justify my right to that power and discredit those who question it. Also, I fail. I have on multiple occasions not treated women with the respect I would treat a man of similar education and experience. I try to recognize that and do better.
For those who are white and may read this, I know there are many who have been moved by the recent headline stories of injustices towards African Americans. This post was partially inspired by a clip I saw of CNN’s Brooke Baldwin asking for advice to her as a white woman. Like the woman she asked, I don’t think I have all of the wisdom to give the best answer. But know that despite the hurt of these events, and others, at least this black American appreciates being heard and your sympathy. Though we talk about these things among (black) family and friends, I don’t think I’ve ever felt there was a white audience who would listen to a post like this. I hope for more interracial dialogue as to how we can move forward individually and collectively on this issue. Thanks for reading.