Minority Birth Boom
Raises Major Questions About American Education
On
May17, the U.S. Census Bureau released the latest findings amassed from its
2010 survey. Racial and ethnic minorities—Blacks, Asians, Latinos, Native Americans,
and Multiracials, now make up more than half of the youngest Americans.
Depending on the perspectives and political alignments of the news source,
articles heralded the findings, as a triumphant victory—the moment “minorities surpass Whites”—and
an insidious omen—the day “Whites lose.” The findings
give a concrete, factual basis to the shifts our society has both implicitly
and explicitly known—that American society is increasingly diverse. Yet, while
the facts of racial and ethnic diversity surround us, what we choose to do with
the significances of this reality is a far different matter.
In the
last century, racial and ethnic minorities have gained great strides in
both social and civic presence. However, these gains have not resulted in
the categorical dismantling of our society’s lingering social and
political institutions. The holders of our national wealth and our political
leaders are largely White. The failings of civic infrastructure, the ills of
poverty and crime, and the implementation of drug laws most adversely affect
communities of color. Media and pop culture are rife with pejorative
depictions, inferences about, and caricatures of minorities. The 2008 recession
only underscored existent divides. Relative to Whites, minorities suffered disproportionate
unemployment rates, thus widening social and economic segregations.
For
articles that allowed comment, it only took a few downward scrolls to
evidence that those progressive, ideological changes that would
embrace the nation’s changing racial makeup still have a long way to
go. In an ever-diversifying America, racial minorities still suffer the
obstacles of old social institutions and perspectives. Of the myriad of
implications that arise from the Census’ findings, the most pressing are those
of identity and education; different and yet symbiotic, social spheres.
The
birthrate data challenges definitions of what it means to be of a particular
race—contextually, perceptibly, and historically. We have a specific
understanding of the historical meaning and present significance of terms like
“full-blood,” “one-drop,” “passing,” and “mixed.” Such terms and check-box
racial categories have come to shape how we construct and respond to race. What
the Census’ findings evidence is that social practice, interpersonal exchanges,
and political rhetoric must change in regard to our expanding diversity,
particularly considering socio-economic shifts.
It will
do us no social good (if it ever has) to thrust upon others our attachments to
what is appropriately White, necessarily Black, definitively Asian, and
characteristically Latino—particularly when we do so to perpetuate bias and
prejudice. This does not mean that Americans must abandon their cultural
heritages. What the changing composition of our society signals is that the
legacies and institutions that gave rise to social inequalities must break down
if American identity is to evolve.
In the
future, relative to older generations, the younger will expand traditional
understandings of race. They will redefine what it means to be “American” and a
racial minority in America. These changing definitions are significant to our
other great problem, one underscored in several reactions to the Census’
findings—education.
The gaps and deficits in education, income, and long
term success between minorities and Whites are well-documented realities. Yet
with the Census data, in swept a strangely myopic focus on a small piece of the
larger issue. In a New York Times article, William
O’Hare, a senior consultant to the Annie E. Casey Foundation, commented
that “[E]ducating young minorities [is] of critical importance to the
future of the country and the economy.” Ruy Teixeira, a senior fellow at the
Center for American Progress added that “[The U.S. does] a pretty lousy job of
educating the younger generation of minorities.” While true in the
broadest sense, their comments are beholden to an increasingly outmoded way of
regarding the failures of education and egregiously shade over its stark
reality:
We do a
poor job of educating, period. This reality transcends both race and O’Hare’s
and Teixeira’s inferential, socioeconomic attachments.
Relative
to the rest of the world, American education has long been in decline,
yet, only in the last decade have communities and government aggressively
tackled our downshift. The most egregious failures of education policy have
occurred in schools operating in low socioeconomic areas where the poor and
working poor reside—rural towns, urban enclaves, and American Indian
reservations. Though the rates of poor and working poor within racial groups
are higher for Blacks, Latinos, and American Indians, the majority of those who
live in these socioeconomics are White.
While
the Census data does not provide information on the demographic
characteristics of mothers, a Pew Research Center report evidences
differences in age, education, and marital status among mothers of different
racial groups. Along with the Census’ birthrate data, this may indicate one of
two realities—one long-established, the other more expansive. With the former,
the inference is that because racial minorities are disproportionately affected
by poor education, a majority of American children are now at risk of suffering
the extrapolated effects of its consequences. But, the data may also require a
shift away from the way we traditionally pair disadvantage and race. If the
birthrate data shows a change in racial identity and composition as well as a
reorganization of relative socioeconomic status, the expanded perspective
divorces the marriage of race and social inequality, and instead brings the
disadvantages of low-socioeconomics to the forefront.
The
latter would underscore a reality, yet a less prevalent way of framing
disadvantage. Though the overlap rate is higher, the greatest civic and
political disservices are not to minorities alone, but to the economically
disadvantaged. It is in these communities that our society must invest today
for a more successful tomorrow--no matter which racial box defines them.
The
diversity of America’s least advantaged, least educated, and least successful
undercuts both O’Hare and Teixeira’s notion that education improvements
should occur through a racial lens. Though we may improve the welfare of
Americans part-by-part, splitting the focus between races instead of by
socioeconomics creates more complication than solution. The changing
racial composition and social definition of our youngest citizens requires that
we think critically and differently about our social
institutions. Alternately we must focus on transforming and improving poor
and working class communities’ access to quality education while also
strengthening education services in those more affluent.
The
Census’ birthrate findings force our society to confront two of its most
contentious issues: the institutionalized conceptions of racial identity, and
the problem of education. In both areas, we often speak of a better
future, but that future must be more present. A child’s success is
directly linked to the circumstances into which he is born—as much an economic
issue as it is a racial one. In what kind of future will our youngest Americans
find themselves? Will they be saddled with the legacies of our inequitable
present? If we recognize that their future will be different than our own, how
will our society change, on what principles, and spurred by the actions of
whom?
http://www.policymic.com/articles/8527/minority-birth-boom-raises-major-questions-about-american-education
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