Daanish Ahmad '22
Black History Month is an important time to celebrate and reflect on the progress, hardships, and accomplishments of African-Americans in our United States. Originally becoming a month-long celebration in 1976, Black History Month officially starts in February to honor both Frederik Douglass and Abraham Lincoln. While Lincoln’s intentions during his presidency were questionable, Douglass remains an iconic and integral part of Black History, spreading awareness of slavery’s cruelness with his book Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass.
In an effort to educate and gain further insights into the contemporary Black experience, and to celebrate one of Cate’s finest, El Batidor interviewed Maude Bond, our exceptional Director of College Counseling, on what it means to her to be an African-American at a predominantly white preparatory school.
The interview occurred on February 4th, and Ms. Bond was kind enough to squeeze me into her extremely busy schedule.
What do you want the Cate community to know about Black History Month?
First of all, you stand up when you hear the Black National Anthem. When it came on at assembly, I was one of the only ones standing.
What is the Black National Anthem?
It’s called ‘Lift Every Voice and Sing’. It was put into practice as the Black National Anthem before the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ became the National Anthem for the United States. It was named the Black National Anthem in 1919 by the NAACP. There was a short presentation about it - were you in assembly on Monday?
No comment.
(Chuckles) So that’s one thing. The other things I want people to know about Black History Month is that it’s usually a time in the year where Black-identifying people in your community, wherever you find yourself, are working extra hard behind the scenes - early in the mornings, late into the evenings - to put together programming. To educate and support and celebrate the Black experience, nationally and globally. So, it’s an interesting dichotomy because it’s a time of the year that celebrates all of the accomplishments of African-Americans, and Black-identifying people, but it also requires a great deal of heavy lifting from those communities. So, just reminding people to express their gratitude for all the programming, work, and energy those “behind-the-scenes” put into this month.
Do you feel like gratitude has not been given in its full effect? Are some wishy-washy about the whole thing?
I think people take it for granted. I think they’ve been a part of independent school life for a long time and there’s always some type of celebration, or organized event, to commemorate Black History Month. And I think people who are not Black, don’t recognize that Black people are pulling together these programs, and this information, to keep you engaged, to keep you enriched, to keep you educated on our history, our contributions to society. It was really nice seeing Mrs. Salcedo send out the Mathematically Gifted and Black updates. You know, people in the STEM world, particularly in math, who are African-American or Black. That small gesture, from someone who isn’t Black, is phenomenal. And something that's unique. Because in some communities, I’ve seen the charge of celebrating and educating fall exclusively on the shoulders of Black folks in the community - and it’s exhausting.
So you want your efforts to be repaid, in some regard?
Uh, I don’t know if repaid is the right word, but I think it’s important to remember that during this time of year, Black people are doing their jobs, plus their schoolwork, plus putting together programming - for a whole month - plus all the planning that’s required before February!
That’s a whole lot of stuff to do!
It’s a lot of stuff! And it’s for the benefit of fighting racism. Because the more you know about Black culture, Black history, and our plight, the hope is that you’ll be able to go out and educate your friends, your family members - other people outside of Cate’s orbit - so that you can diminish the harmful impacts of racism.
Yeah, so they become less ignorant in general.
Exactly.
So far the events and activities on campus have been amazing. How do you plan to keep the momentum?
Ok, so for keeping the momentum, one of the things I hope to prioritize for Black History Month this year, is reminding people to balance out the momentum, right? Like you gotta rest. There’s been so many movements that Black-Americans have taken charge of in our democracy. Black people have been at the forefront of stopping voter suppression, gun violence, and leading anti-poverty movements. I really want to make sure that my Black and African-American students and colleagues remember to rest - to take care of themselves. I think the only way to continue that momentum is to take breaks, take naps -
You said it.
(Chuckles) - yeah, to do those things that fill your soul. We’re a very small minority here at Cate. Black-identifying faculty and students, and even a smaller minority of African-Americans, so I think it’s important for us to remember, while we’re doing all of this planning for the benefit of the community, we also have to remember to plan things that are going to benefit us individually, and as a community within Cate. So, whatever it is that fills your well - if it’s hiking, if it’s napping, if it’s hanging out with friends that identify the same as you - whatever it is, it goes beyond Black History Month. Right? Because to keep this momentum going - of fighting racism, of taking anti-racism stances that are prominent in our curriculum, in our extracurricular activities, and our day-to-day interactions with others - it’s a lifetime commitment.
Yeah, it really is. So you have to practice self-care?
Yeah. That’s the only way to keep the momentum going. Because you see so many people of color, and particularly Black and African-American people, suffering from burnout. Because that’s a state of being - speaking from the ‘I’ perspective - for myself as an African-American woman, being hypervigilant, being always at the ready, being over prepared. Those things lead you to a really unhealthy existence, mentally, physically, and spiritually. So I think one thing for me that I’m trying to prioritize is taking some steps back, expressing gratitude to those in the community around me - particularly to Black and African-American folks here - and prioritizing my self care, so that I can continue to be a useful force in this community.
That was beautiful.
Thank you.
Speaking of you being an African-American woman at Cate, what are some of the struggles you face in the workspace and in your daily life? You spoke about hypervigilance and burn out. Specific to being at Cate, what are the challenges you’ve faced?
I think one of the struggles I’ve faced, being new here, is the struggle I’ve faced in a lot of elite educational communities, and that’s those intrusive questions that pop up in my mind: ‘Am I valid? Am I enough? Am I trustworthy?’ As you know, my job is guiding students and families through the college application process, and even with my educational background, with the resume that I have, having worked at an Ivy League college, my advice and feedback are still called into question in ways that are more of a reflection on my gender and race. And that’s always hard. And that’s where the hypervigilance and overprepardness comes in. Because I don’t know if a family, or student, is going to take my advice seriously, is going to respect the wisdom that I’m sharing, is going to second-guess me. Because they think, ‘how could she possibly be an authority on this information?’ I think a lot of families and students don’t know a lot of Black people, and to have a Black woman come into their life and tell them what could, and could not be possible, regarding their future - it’s shocking.
It’s a big deal to a lot of people. Do you feel like this edge you have as a result of the hypervigilance gives you an edge in other aspects of your life?
Really, it’s a coping mechanism, it’s self-protection, right? Every day I walk out my door, I have to wonder if someone’s going to be rude or disrespectful or mean to me. Just because I’m Black and just because I’m a woman. Even getting my nails done, if I want to just get a pedicure, manicure, and just relax, I have to think about how I’m going to received when I walk in the door. When I go to a yoga studio, I have to think about how am I going to be received when I walk in the door. Are they going to be kind and gracious and welcoming? Are they gonna make me wait in line longer than other people? Are they gonna ignore me? Because all those things have happened, where I’ve been in social situations, exchanges with retail sales people, even the grocery store, I’m policed. Just a couple months ago I was at Albertsons, and you know, since the pandemic, the grocery stores have been a nightmare and chaos.
Absolutely right. It’s hell.
So, I was standing in self-checkout.
Jesus, I hate those things.
(Chuckles) Well, I prefer that to having that one-on-one interaction with the people at the register. So I’m standing in the self-checkout line, and an older white woman accused me of cutting in front of her, because the lines were so long, she didn’t realize I wasn’t even in her line. So even just running to the store to get Oreos for Long House, I have to prep myself, before going into an interaction with people at a grocery store, because I don’t ever know what’s going to be thrown at me. And if I react in a way that’s warranted - which is reacting in a way that is angry and defensive -
Then it looks bad.
And, I run the risk of some type of violence coming my way!
How do you take that situation and diffuse it?
That’s where that edge comes in. As you know, I have a fantastic sense of humor.
(Deadpan) Amazing.
I’m also very kind -
Yeah, very charismatic.
(Laughs) Thank you, thank you. Yeah, I like to think of myself as charming. Those tools come in handy often. When I’m interacting with new colleagues, when I’m not sure what they might think of me, or how they might perceive me, I’m hyper aware of how I need to manage those relationships. In order for people to give me the trust and respect I deserve, as a Black woman, I feel like they have to like me first. There might be people in your life - authority figures, teachers, administrators - and you may not like them, but that doesn’t matter. You’re still going to respect them. And you’re still going to believe what they say. That’s not always the case when you are Black. I find myself earning, re-earning, and reminding people - that they should respect me. That respect is rarely freely given.
That’s unfair, having to be liked to be respected.
Yeah, if you’re disliked as a Black woman, there are all these tropes that come along with it - that you’re angry, that you’re difficult, that you’re aggressive - that you can’t be trusted - even in the way that I communicate with people, and you and I communicate in different ways: on the phone, on zoom, on email, texting, in person. And I’m a very direct communicator.
Yeah, straight-to-the-point.
And many people may find that aggressive, off-putting, or a little bit ‘not the Cate way’. Not the Cate style. Not the California way, or style.
I appreciate it. I say cut the BS, pardon my French.
(Nods knowingly).
Last question: Is there anything you want to say to Black students on campus?
Yes, I want to remind Black students that they have a right to be here. That they don’t have to be perfect to be here. That they’re entitled to the same childhood mistakes, foul ups, mess ups, that everyone else is entitled to as a child, as a student. And that they’re value in this community is not solely based on what they can achieve for the betterment of their community. I think a lot of Black students and faculty at independent institutions spend a great deal of time giving so much to their community, without remembering that they are the community, and the community is supposed to give back to them. And I think a lot of African-American and Black-identifying students are nervous about losing their spot here if they step out of line, disagree with a teacher, or God forbid, break the honor code. There is a lot of pressure on Black students, because they’re coming in with the whole lineage, history, ancestry, legacy that’s depending on them to be successful, because there’s so few of us here. When they walk into a classroom, rehearsal, or field, they’re bringing that super high expectation. Knowing that if they do step out of line, opportunities might not be offered again to people that look like us. So, I want to remind Black and African-American students here to reach out to Black faculty, even if they don’t know me or spend time with me. I want them to know they have an automatic fan, an automatic advocate in me. And that, they are deserving of every single childhood right that any non-Black student enjoys.
That’s sweet.
I love to see carefree Black kids, who aren’t worrying about what people think about them, or how they speak, or getting an A, or being the best or being excellent, but being in the moment, and enjoying their lives to the fullest.
Yeah, there are layers to being a person of color on this campus.
Another thing that’s important that I had to learn, being both Black and a woman from the South, is being in white elite educational spaces taught me to advocate for myself and promote my experience. I used to think that my experiences weren't worthwhile or interesting to others because they were so different from my white peers. But I finally figured out that my unique experiences are incredibly valuable. I had a tendency to downplay or diminish my history and family legacy, because I didn’t see it represented by the media or leadership in this country. African-American’s need to see our life mirrored back to us in positive ways. I had to remind myself and I want to remind other Black folks that everything you’ve experienced, the way you’ve grown up, the music you listen to, the traditions you have, the way you speak in your house, they’re all equally important as everyone else’s. Even if they’re not represented on campus here, you have to represent them and take up space doing so.
I agree 100%. Thank you so much for having me here.
You’re welcome.
In addition to letting me interview her, Ms. Bond recommended movies for you all to watch in honor of Black History Month. Give some of them a watch, as they’re all worth your while.
The Wiz
Mahogany
Lady Sings the Blues
Women of Brewster Place
Fame
Last King of Scotland
Carmen Jones
Josephine Baker Story
Hustle and Flow
Love Jones
Set it Off
Paris is Burning
Sankofa
Pariah
The Great Debaters
Undercover Brother
I’m Gonna Get You Sucka
Love and BasketBall
Medicine for Melancholy
Hollywood Shuffle
A Soldier’s Story
The Five Heartbeats
Boomerang
The Inkwell
Roll Bounce
Drumline
Barber Shop
Higher Learning
School Daze
I want to thank Ms. Bond, on behalf of the community, for her resilience and diligence in her work, her respect and care for others, and for her good conversation. She’s a guardian angel with crucial wisdom to understanding the African-American, and arguably in a broader sense, the person of color experience.
コメント