California rejects Prop. 16 and affirmative action, proving intolerance lives here, too
Why is the term “identity politics” still used as a pejorative weapon to undermine Black people, folks of Mexican ancestry or anyone else labeled a “minority”?
That’s a question I had after Proposition 16 was voted down in allegedly progressive California last week. The measure, rejected by state voters by a margin of 56% to 43% at last count, had a simple premise: Allow race and ethnicity to be considered in public university admissions, government hiring and contracting.
The key words here were: To. Be. Considered.
Diversity is lagging all these areas in California and there is no disputing that. Yet, what was said when Prop. 16 went down to defeat?
“I think California voters voted their conscience on the issue,” Gail Heriot, a law professor at the University of San Diego said to EdSource. “Californians reject identity politics.”
Proposition 16 would have repealed the odious Prop. 209 , approved by California voters in 1996, that had framed the idea of considering race and ethnicity in admissions and hiring as “discrimination.”
But let’s not lose a key point about Prop. 16:
Public universities and government agencies would not have been mandated to enforce “quotas” if Prop. 16 had passed. Race and ethnicity would simply have been a consideration in decisions on university admissions, government hiring and contracts.
Diverse, rife with inequality
What’s wrong with considering diversity where it is clearly lacking? What’s wrong with upending a status quo that is not working for lots of people?
Plenty, obviously.
The acknowledgment of a diverse California rife with inequality – the real California that Prop. 16 sought to improve – was rejected by people who say they oppose “identity politics.”
The premise of Prop. 16 and the need for it were twisted by the same forces who deny the importance of diversity or the existence of inequality here. The people who say they “don’t see color” are the same people who, if left to their own devices, are fine with doling out opportunities to people who look just like them.
My question is: How come largely white workplaces aren’t framed as the end result of “identity politics”?
The same could be asked of the ranks of largely white network TV anchors or political punditry shows that almost always address issues involving Latinos by seeking the opinions of people who are not Latino.
How about the ranks of largely white business executives or largely white newsrooms or, for that matter, the ranks of just about any other profession in America?
Why isn’t it “identity politics” when the majority of coveted positions are filled by mostly white people?
Status quo equals self-interest
I can see an answer to that question through the lens of my experience. With 30 years in the workforce, beginning as a “minority hire,” I view Prop. 16 and the phrase “identity politics” with deep personal frustration.
I remember that if a Black person or person of Mexican ancestry or some other “minority” sneaked into one of those covered slots, well, that’s usually when there were questions whether that person was qualified or if that person truly earned that position based on merit.
As one of the few Latino columnists in the U.S. I know this to be true: As a “minority,” someone at some point called you a token either to your face or in a way where it got back to you pretty quickly. It still happens.
That’s been my experience. And I’ve witnessed the emotions of “minority” professionals, some nearly moved to tears, recalling when they were the “tokens” where they worked.
Inherent biases helped create workplaces lacking in diversity and helped ostracize people of color who confront these biases in myriad ways large and small.
Has this changed over the years? Of course, in some ways, it has. My newsroom, for example, is different from the one I entered, with a focus on diversity coverage and hiring on a variety of fronts.
But, in many ways, no. The sentiments linger in those voting against changing institutions in a way to enable us to be better. In 2016, UC Santa Barbara and Stanford researchers studied how white voters were responding to the changing demographics of America.
“Reminding white Americans high in ethnic identification that non-white racial groups will outnumber whites in the United States by 2042 caused them to become more concerned about the declining status and influence of white Americans as a group (i.e., experience group status threat),” wrote the authors of “The threat of increasing diversity: Why many White Americans support Trump in the 2016 election.
“Accumulating evidence indicates that the racial demographic shift does pose a threat to whites. After reading about increasing demographic diversity (vs. a control article), whites show greater fear and anger toward minority groups (Outten, Schmitt, Miller, & Garcia, 2012), greater implicit and explicit bias against racial/ethnic minorities (Craig & Richeson, 2014a), decreased endorsement of diversity (Outten et al., 2012), and increased concern with their own group’s position in society.”
This is an issue and its just as alive in California as it is throughout the nation.
So if you come at me with the “you hate white people” schtick, my answer is simple: I don’t.
I object to people who harbor racist ideas and attitudes. I’ve known plenty of white folks who have over the years, and plenty who haven’t.
We just can’t admit that maintaining the status quo is about self-interest and always has been.
Whose job is it anyway? Whose spot at a university? Whose contract?
I first encountered this sentiment in college. I was stunned when a white classmate scoffed at my Los Angeles Times internship with, “I wish I had Mexican parents so I could get a good internship.”
Once, I was a “minority hire” and I carried all the baggage contained in those words. Do you know what the term means? It means that some think you are only there because of your surname, skin color or ethnic background.
One-sided tension
Prop. 16 opponents argue that these conflicts are precisely why Prop. 16 had to be defeated – because it would have created tension in workplaces and college campuses.
Spoiler alert: That tension is already there. It’s my experience that this tension was one-sided. I wasn’t the one who had the problem, some people had a problem with me.
So Prop. 16 was upsetting to the people whose self-interests are threatened.
What makes my blood boil about Prop. 16 being defeated at the polls is where we are now in California. As the Washington Post reported: “In the fiscal year before (Prop. 209) passed, the UC System awarded 10.2% of the value of its contracts to minority-owned businesses and 5.7% to those owned by women, according to a Board of Regents report,”
“Today, minority-owned businesses receive an estimated 2.8% of the value of the UC System’s goods and services contracts. Those owned by women secure less than 1.9%.”
“Underrepresented” groups such as Blacks, Latinos and Native Americans make up 37% of UC undergraduates but 57% of high school graduating classes, the Post reported. That’s not even mentioning the inequality exacerbated in Black and Latino communities by the COVID-19 pandemic.
Unless we are intentional and focus on these communities, what happens? They get overlooked, forgotten. Unless we take into consideration that the amount of Black and Latino kids coming out of high school, their numbers will not be reflected in public university enrollment.
Until or unless these public institutions are required to do more to make their workplaces more reflective of their communities, they won’t. They just won’t. If you voted against Prop. 16, then you are OK with the status quo. If you’re OK with the status quo, then maybe you have the problem. Maybe you’re OK with diversity as long as it doesn’t threaten what you believe is yours?
This story was originally published November 11, 2020 at 5:00 AM.
