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A teacher's historic 1968 racism experiment on third graders is still incredible today

“I watched what had been marvelous ... children turn into nasty, vicious discriminating little third graders in the space of 15 minutes.”

Jane Elliott conducts on experiment on her students in 1970.

On April 4, 1968, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated in Memphis, Tennessee, and the news devastated Jane Elliott, a third-grade teacher in Riceville, Iowa. In the wake of King’s death, Elliott heard people on the news and work colleagues making racist remarks about the slain civil rights leader. So, she scrapped her lesson plans for the next day and, instead, gave her students a two-day lesson on racism. A version of this lesson was later filmed in 1970 and shown on PBS as the documentary The Eye of the Storm.

What is the Blue Eyes/Brown Eyes Experiment?

The next day, she told the children in her overwhelmingly white and protestant school that they would be divided by their eye colors, brown and blue. The blue-eyed people would be privileged, and the brown-eyed people would be treated like second-class citizens. "Since I'm the teacher and I have blue eyes, I think maybe the blue-eyed people should be on top the first day. I mean, the blue-eyed people are the better people in this room. Oh yes, they are all right. They are smarter than brown-eyed people,” she told her classroom. “This is a fact. The brown-eyed people do not get to use the drinking fountain; you'll have to use the paper cups. You brown-eyed people are not to play with the blue-eyed people on the playground. The brown-eyed people in this room today are going to wear collars so that we can tell from a distance what color your eyes are ready."

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

When lunch rolled around, the blue-eyed children began insulting the brown-eyed children, and "Brown eyes" became an insult. The brown-eyed children felt hopeless because they had no power over their treatment.

“It seems like when we were down on the bottom, everything bad happened, and uh, the way they treated you, you felt like you didn't even want to try to do anything. It was like Mrs. Elliott was taking our best friends away from us,” one of the brown-eyed children said. “I watched what had been marvelous, cooperative, wonderful, thoughtful children turn into nasty, vicious discriminating little third graders in the space of 15 minutes,” Elliott recalled.

The next day, the roles were reversed. The brown-eyed children were given all the privileges, and the blue-eyed kids wore collars. Interestingly, the brown-eyed children who experienced discrimination on the first day were kinder to the blue-eyed people when they were in charge because they understood how they felt.

The teacher also discovered that when a group of students were told they were superior, they worked through their phonics lesson faster than when they were part of the group deemed inferior. They even claimed that they couldn't think as well with the collars on, which gives some insight into the yoke of living under prejudice. The children deemed superior on the first day underperformed the next day in their lessons.


On the third day of that dreadful week following Dr. King’s assassination, the kids had learned a big lesson in life about discrimination, evidenced by a call and response Elliott had with her students where they agreed that it was wrong to judge people by the color of their skin. “Now you know a little bit more than you knew at the beginning of this week,” Elliott concluded her lesson.

Let’s hope that the children from Riceville, Iowa, in 1968 took Elliot’s lesson to heart and led a life where they, as King said, “Judge people by the content of their hearts instead of the color of their skin.” After the exercise made headlines, Elliott left teaching at the elementary school and became a full-time anti-racist speaker, conducting the experiment throughout the world. In 1992, she performed it in a controversial episode ofThe Oprah Winfrey Show.

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

An analogy about expectations for my fellow white folks just diving into anti-racism education:

Imagine showing up to a class an hour late. How would you expect the professor to respond to your entrance?

Would you expect them to greet you at the door, tell you how happy they are that you arrived, walk you to your seat and make sure you were comfortable? Would you expect the teacher to ask you if you have everything you need or thank you for showing up? Would you expect them to take time away from the class to do that—would that even feel appropriate?

Or would you expect them to say, "Hi, take a seat." Or perhaps nothing at all—maybe just give you a glance while they get on with the class as you find a place to sit?



And how would you enter that class if you were an hour late?

Would you walk in and announce, "Hey, I'm here!" and then give a big explanation for why you are taking the class and what took you so long to get there, diverting the class's attention and taking away valuable class time?

Would you walk straight up to the professor and say, "Sorry I'm late, but could you please go over what you've covered in the last hour with me?" Just imagine the professor's face if you did that, and then hold that thought.

Or would you quickly and quietly sit down, open your book and do your best to keep up with where the class is now, knowing you're going to have to catch up on the first hour of material on your own. Maybe even borrowing someone's notes to help with what you've missed.

Would the professor be glad that you were in the class? Sure. Better late than never. But would you expect them to express gratitude or happiness that you finally showed up? Of course not.

Now imagine the professor's life depends on people like you showing up for class. Imagine that they've seen countless students arrive late, sit down for a few minutes, decide the desk is too uncomfortable or the subject matter is too hard, then walk out, over and over and over. Would you expect them to feel relieved at your arrival? Would you expect to be met with a warm welcome, or some understandable skepticism?


Photo by National Cancer Institute


White folks, we are that late student. Only we are far more than an hour late.

If you're just diving into anti-racism activism and it all feels a bit pricklier, less patient or less welcoming than you expected, this is why. We don't get a cookie for showing up to a place we already should have been. We should not expect an open-armed, warm welcome because we've finally arrived.

We might be embarrassed when we realize how late we are. We might feel like we have some good reasons for it. But lengthy apologies and explanations just waste valuable class time and no one really wants to hear it, no matter how heartfelt or sincere. The class just wants to move on.

We're undoubtedly going to feel a little lost. But if we raise our hands to ask questions about stuff that was covered in the hour we missed, we should expect the response to be a simple "You're going to need to get someone's notes on that" or "That was covered in Chapter 1—go back and read it." No one would expect a professor to go over material that's already been covered for the student who showed up an hour into class. No one should expect them not to find those questions annoying.

Yes, it is good that we're here. There's no question about that. But we're late to a class that's already in session and that's the dynamic we should expect. The most respectful thing we can do is recognize our lateness, then quickly take a seat, open our books and listen like someone's life depends on it. The truth is, it does.

When Busboys and Poets first opened in Washington, D.C., in 2005, restaurant-goers had no idea how much the establishment would shape the city.

All photos courtesy of Busboys and Poets unless noted otherwise.

Home to a bookstore filled with literature from writers of color alongside Middle Eastern and soul food, this restaurant-bookstore-spoken-word-activist-safe space-cafe hybrid is anything but ordinary. And for D.C. residents, it totally works.


"I think food and eating and breaking bread ... is a sacred human experience at some level," says restaurant owner Anas "Andy" Shallal. "You know, people just want to put something into their body. There's some spirituality in that. I think many cultures in the world see food as something more than just nutrients for the body. And I think that's the case in D.C. too."

A beacon of activism and politics, Busboys and Poets has hosted numerous readings, events, and speaking engagements.

The events have been hosted by powerhouse figures like Angela Davis, Common, Danny Glover, Ellen Page, and one of Shallal's personal favorite guests, Barack Obama.

"When [Obama] came, it was pretty much that moment that I think took my and most people's breath away, which was really kind of weird because I'm not that easily starstruck," Shallal says. "But someone like him with all his spirit coming into the space? The place went crazy. I mean, people gave him a standing ovation that lasted I don't even know how long, but there was a sense of awe, that sense of reverence to him, which was really quite amazing."

The inception of Busboys and Poets began when Shallal was living and working in D.C. The Iraqi-American restaurant owner immigrated to the U.S. with his family in the 1960s. Ever a connoisseur of the arts and activism, Shallal felt at home in Washington, D.C., the center of the U.S. federal government and the site of numerous movement beginnings and political marches.

While Shallal found comfort in the nation's capital, he was still unsatisfied with how little politics were discussed outside of activist circles.

"I'm an activist," he says. "I've always been an activist, and [I] always wanted to find a space that I would feel comfortable going to."

Having come from a culture that embraced political discussions instead of deflecting from them, Shallal found America's ambivalence to political conversations disheartening.The restaurant owner grew increasingly frustrated with Americans' inability to talk about real issues in social settings.

"I remember when I first voted ... I saw a person in front of me and said, 'So, who are you going to vote for?'" he says. "And it was like I just asked her the most personal intimate question! She gave me that look — 'How dare you?' Like, 'that's not what we do in America.' And I thought, 'That's odd. Shouldn't you be public about who you voted for?'"

Shallal continued to face similar interactions whenever he'd try to discuss voting, politics, or other politically charged topics. An early public opponent of the Iraq War, Shallal was not one to shy away from the world's most pressing issues.

So, how does an ambitious guy who's spent his adult life reading the works of people like Zora Neale Hurston and Malcolm X get Americans to feel more comfortable talking about war, community policing, and women's rights?

Through food, of course.

"I think the food is the trick," Shallal says. "That's how you catch fish. I think once people are sitting together, they realize that they need to be able to have a conversation, and it's not a bad thing and it doesn't hurt. Somebody's not going to bite you. And there's a sense of, 'OK, this can happen, this is possible.' And I think that's the beauty of it."

However, it's not just the incredibly diverse meal offerings that makes Busboys and Poets such an atmospheric place.

Dishes like shrimp and chicken chorizo pasta and baba ganoush are amazing, but it's the paintings featuring black American heroes, political figures, scholars, and artists that set this place apart.

In each of the restaurant's six locations, patrons will find paintings of people like Langston Hughes (the original busboy and poet), Zora Neale Hurston, Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, and Barack Obama.

In contrast to the bland stock photos lining the walls of many restaurants, Busboys and Poets explicitly aims to normalize images of black people by showcasing them in an artistic and humanizing light.

"We have to normalize this imagery," Shallal says. "We have to think of this in terms of 'America' as opposed to 'black America' because I think we oftentimes think 'white America' is 'America.' In order for us to change that, you have to change the imagery and change the perception of what America is. You have to accept black culture in American culture just like white culture was accepted."

Shallal's dedication to black and immigrant art has been a pervasive component in his career pursuits.

This is evidenced in his public artwork, a mayoral campaign, and other public good initiatives around the city.

His ideology hasn't gone unnoticed by community members. In fact, it's made him famous in activist circles around the nation. "I think being a non-white person helps me understand the whole idea of justice and injustice a little differently," Shallal says.

[rebelmouse-image 19346376 dam="1" original_size="735x491" caption="Photo by Alison Harbaugh/Flickr." expand=1]Photo by Alison Harbaugh/Flickr.

In stark contrast to many restaurant owners, Shallal places race and politics at the forefront of his restaurant's mission rather than making it a topic to avoid at all costs. This is, in large part, due his knowledge of the history of segregation in U.S. restaurants and its persistence in subtle, but problematic, ways.

"Having grown up in this country, I've seen the segregation that happens in restaurants — at one point, legal segregation; and later, of course, is self-segregation," Shallal says. "I've always thought that's not a healthy way for society to grow and find common ground."

Shallal's understanding of restaurants' segregationist past is accurate.  

Historically, restaurants have been some of the most segregated places in the nation. In the civil rights era, black Americans were often refused service when they were not being attacked or facing brutal treatment by the police. In the present day, some restaurant owners still do everything they can to keep black patrons from frequenting their restaurants, including ignoring them, calling the police on them, kicking them out, and just making them uncomfortable.

Shallal counters this pervasive narrative by recognizing the importance of not being colorblind to patrons, and he makes sure his staff knows it too, saying, "There are very subtle messages [in the food industry], and if you were just being colorblind, you're going to create tough situations."

The commitment to bridging the gaps between culture, food, and history has made Busboys and Poets even more significant in today's political volatility.

Since the restaurant first opened, five more locations have opened in the area. Shallal also opened another soul food restaurant called Eatonville, and he's made public calls for greener institutions.

All Busboys and Poets locations still host well-known speakers and also host open-mic nights for high school and college students.

Shallal, ever the activist, is increasingly aware of just how important the space is in such turbulent times. True to his nature, he welcomes hard conversations and hopes they help to move society forward in a positive way.

"I think [the current state of affairs is] really unfortunate, and I think it's really putting a lot of stress on families and on relationships," he notes. "It's just stupid and makes me really upset. But we're still [Busboys and Poets], and people know where we stand and that's not going to change."

With six locations, a seventh in the works, and ambitious plans to continue growing, Shallal has a lot on his hands. But social justice and helping to move progress forward comes first.

To do that, he says, you just have to act: "I always firmly believed that I want to go at the heart of social justice and create a space that speaks to that issue — this is where I need to begin."

From what I can tell, Shallal is just getting started.

San Antonio Spurs head coach Gregg Popovich has a bit of a reputation for speaking his mind.

Back in May 2017, Popovich denounced the self-centered "game show" atmosphere brought on by Donald Trump's presidency.

In September, he went on a bit of a press conference rant about Trump's "childishness" and "gratuitous fear-mongering," eventually launching into a pretty epic speech about why it's important for him to use his platform to speak out on important issues like racism, even if they don't affect him personally. (He's white.)


The Spurs' Dejounte Murray talks to head coach Gregg Popovich during a 2017 game. Photo by Jason Miller/Getty Images.

With that in mind, it should come as no surprise that when Popovich was asked about the NBA's Black History Month celebrations, his answer would be worth a listen — even if it's a bit hard for white people to hear.

Asked by reporters why he felt it was important for the NBA to honor and promote Black History Month, he basically said that it's a no-brainer:

"I think it's pretty obvious. The league is made up of a lot of black guys. To honor [Black History Month] and understand it is pretty simplistic. How would you ignore that? But more importantly, we live in a racist country that hasn't figured it out yet. And it's always important to bring attention to it, even if it angers some people. The point is that you have to keep it in front of everybody's nose so that they understand it, that it still hasn't been taken care of, and we have a lot of work to do."

It's easy to pretend that racism is a thing of the past, but that's simply not true.

It's pretty easy to get defensive when Popovich and many others say things like, "We live in a racist country that hasn't figured it out yet." After all, nobody wants to be called racist, and nobody wants to think that they play a role in perpetuating discrimination.

Considering what some on social media are saying in response to Popovich's latest comments, that defensive instinct comes through loud and clear.

"If this country is Racist [sic] then why are we celebrating Black History Month?" asked one Twitter user. "Pop is an idiot...why doesn't he resign and give his job to a black coach if he feels he's part of the problem?" tweeted another. "What are we celebrating? Why do we single out a month for blacks? Can we have white history month?" asked a third.

"We live in a racist country that hasn't figured it out yet."

It's indisputable that racism against black individuals and other people of color is real. There is ample data confirming the inequality and negative treatment aimed at black Americans.

For example, an October 2017 survey found that on average, prosecutors offered white defendants more lenient plea deals than their black counterparts. Experiments in so-called blind auditions and job applications, as well as a look at how doctors treat people of color compared to white people, demonstrate the existence of unconscious bias.

Popovich and the Spurs attend the White House to celebrate their 2014 NBA championship. Photo by Brendan Smialowski/AFP/Getty Images.

We are a racist country with a racist history. No, that doesn't necessarily make you a racist. It just means we have a lot of work left to do.

Just as Popovich said, if we really want to live in a more just world, we've got to keep this issue at the forefront of our minds.

Black History Month is a great opportunity to think about the many ways black Americans have shaped our country for the better in the face of crushing oppression. It's in acknowledging both the good and the bad that we can help build a a country that lives up to the lofty ideals lauded by many self-proclaimed "patriots."

Patriotism isn't about ignoring a country's faults, but about living each day to address them.