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Anti-racist Word Finder
A dialogue on language for a more inclusive society
I grew up in Seattle — on traditional Coast Salish land — in the ’60s and ’70s. As a child, I didn’t truly understand the counterculture protests and the civil rights movement. Still, I saw that music, fashion, and hairstyles were changing — and with them, attitudes.
I was — and still am — a White, privileged middle-class kid who lived in a predominantly White, privileged middle-class neighborhood. My day-to-day adventures were relatively unrestricted, as my parents deemed it “safe” within the confines of our more massive arterial city block to visit any of my friends who lived within the same radius. But only one close friend lived inside the border: Chris, a White, privileged, middle-class kid like me.
To visit my other two close friends, Kenji (whose parents were from Japan) and David (the son of two Black engineers), my parents had to drive me to their homes. We played, ate each other’s family dishes, and had sleepovers. But things got weird at school and birthday parties; I noticed several off-color comments, mostly from teachers and parents.
One day, all three of us hung out at Chris’ house. Over lunch, his parents asked Kenji if he had “learned any foreign languages, like Japanese.” I watched his face tense and relax as he politely…
