Storytelling with Impact | Discrimination

America has had problems with discrimination from day one. Look no further than the death toll of Native Americans, often deemed to be heathens, as settlers pushed onward from sea to shining sea. And with the invention of the cotton gin, wealthy landowners sanctified an increase in slavery, economically justifying the practice of kidnapping, shackling, and selling Africans to the highest bidder.

Then we have the egregious treatment of Mexican citizens. You know, the folks who owned a significant chunk of the Western U.S. until they exited south at gunpoint. And let’s not forget about the treatment of immigrants from China, South America and the Middle East. These are not simple histories. In fact, quite the opposite, as there have always been Americans who were welcoming to people of any country, ethnicity or religion. But discrimination has been, and continues to be, a shameful truth in the land of freedom and justice for all.

It was encouraging to see America make progress on this front during the late 60s into the 70s and 80s, but backsliding on the ideal of equality was evident from the 1990s onward. Slowly at first, but rapidly accelerating over the past 3+ years with public displays of hate and prejudice seen in many parts of the country. Displays without remorse of apology.

But all is not lost. Hearts can soften and open with grace whenever people resist stereotyping and instead rely on the power of human connection to speak truth to hate. Whenever we remove the wall of discrimination long enough to forge meaningful relationships, a space for the miraculous appears. A space where healing and justice coexist alongside internal struggle.

Snap Judgement recently broadcast a story that I highly recommend listening to. It was one of those rare podcast episodes that stopped me in my tracks, as I needed to hear the story of Dr. Ayaz Virji until the very end. Give it a listen.

Artwork by Teo Ducot | Snap Judgment | WNYC Studios

When Dr. Ayaz Virji first set foot in Dawson, Minnesota, he didn’t know what to expect. He was a brown Muslim man walking into a predominantly white rural town. But much to his surprise Ayaz and his family fit right in. Dawson quickly became home and his neighbors became like his extended family. Then came the presidential election of 2016.

Dr. Ayaz Virji was aware of the positive impact he could have on a small rural town serving as a clinic medical director and chief of staff. And while the community embraced his family upon their arrival, and he enjoyed working with his patients, an abrupt change in the national political climate upset his view of the world, and his place in it.

The narrative follows Dr. Virji’s journey of self-discovery and reflection, of confrontation and conversation within the town after the 2016 election. As you listen to his story, think about the decisions made along the way, by all parties, but especially by Dr. Virji. How did each decision alter the plot of the story? How would you have reacted?

With my white, middle class background, living a life free from discrimination, it’s hard for me to wear his shoes (or anyone else in similar circumstances), to understand his decisions, to feel the pain and frustration that I clearly hear in his voice. What would I have done?

I continue to struggle with recognizing and dealing with the rifts of hate and discrimination in society, but as all impactful stories do, this podcast has altered my frame of reference, and I now view my own story through a new lens. And hopefully it will also make me a better storylistener.

Image credit: Snap Judgment | WNYC Studios

Nancy López is a senior producer at Snap Judgment. She started in radio in 2006 when she joined Soul Rebel Radio, a collective of novice storytellers in Los Angeles. Since then, she’s worked as a producer for Radio Ambulante and Making Contact. Her stories have been featured on PRI’s The World, KALW in San Francisco, and Radio Bilingue.

The Country Doctor – Season 11 – Episode 18 – Produced by Nancy Lopez, Original score by Renzo Gorrio, Artwork by Teo Ducot – Snap Judgement founded by Glynn Washington.

Learn more about the coaching process or
contact me to discuss your storytelling goals!

◆

Subscribe to our newsletter for the latest updates!

The concept of identity has always been difficult to define, and while the digital age has, to some extent, simplified the issue with its ability to capture, store, and transmit our personal information, it has also introduced an additional level of complexity by forcing us into neat digital boxes, including the box that says, “prefer not to answer.”

I recently watched Zara Rahman‘s presentation on stage at The Conference in August 2019. Titled The Unintended Impact of Technology, Zara raises several concerns about how technology is being used to define who we are, which I feel is very important, as who we are (or think ourselves to be) shapes the content and style of the personal stories that we share.

Zara is a researcher, writer, speaker, linguist, and the Deputy Director at The Engine Room, an international non-profit organisation supporting civil society to use tech and data more effectively and strategically.

Instead of diving right into the latest technologies or the politics of identity, Zara begins with a personal story that reveals the complex nature of defining her identity, with family roots from Bangladesh, yet being raised in the UK and holding a British passport – culture vs documents – not an uncommon situation considering modern migration patterns.

“The ability to self-identify is what makes us human. The fluidity of changing identities is a core part of how we grow and change as human beings, no matter what our passports may say.”

She explains how the issue is much larger than just a passport by introducing the concept of “identification technologies” that include any type registration system, as well as the use of national identity cards. The notion of our identity being fluid is not new, as humans have been migrating for over 50,000 years, but most of that time was undocumented and no one was tracking where we came from or where we might go. But that’s all changed.

From a travel standpoint, the requirement of identification has been on the rise for decades, and after 9-11 that increase has been most pronounced when traveling by air. On my last international journey various authorities checked my passport five times. I feel fortunate that my ability to travel is largely unrestricted, but other people are not so lucky with travel bans in place based on religion or ethnicity.

Referring to the establishment of nation states, and the subsequent use of the passports, Zara talks about the positive aspects of establishing shared citizenship, and a shared identity. You can see yourself as having a common bond. But once you’re labeled, governments and corporations can use this data to make decisions based on where we were born, within the borders of lines drawn on a map. How many of you chose the country you were born in? Yet you will always carry that with you, even if you become a citizen of another country.

“…a passport is not a document that tells us who we are, but a document that shows what other people think of us.” – Orhan Pamuk

Photo by James Sutton from Pexels

And in some cases, this rigid view of your ethnicity can be fatal, as Zara recounts the events surrounding the Rwandan genocide in 1994, a tragedy amplified by the use of identity cards which accelerated the slaughtering of Tutsis. The Rohingya people are being persecuted by the government of Myanmar (more commonly described as ethnic cleansing) to the point where tens of thousands have been forced to leave the country and are now stateless, with no national identity.

On another front, the field of genomics holds great promise in its ability to peer inside human history and evolution as a way to uncover the nature of diseases, and in doing so, potentially provide cures and treatments for those diseases. But there’s also a troubling downside to the collection of genetic information when it is used to ‘define’ ethnicity, or quantify the ethnic diversity of our genome. I wonder how this will evolve – might this become another way to place people into categories based on their DNA, and could that lead to more discrimination?

As we’re all aware (or should be) once data is captured, it’s there forever. And if that data is shared, which is the norm for non-governmental databases, then it becomes permanent in multiple places. And should that data be in error and need correcting, or should you want to withdraw from a database altogether, there’s no guarantee it’s possible to do so.

How do you identify yourself when telling your story, and how does the world see you after hearing your story? Is your identity a benefit, or is there a downside that you must deal with?

Subscribe to our newsletter for the latest updates!

The Country Doctor on Snap Judgement

The Story of Your Identity in the Digital Age