I think a lot about race. I think about how I exercise my white privilege, I think about what I do to confront my privilege. I think about how my whiteness impacts my relationships with the students and families I work with, who are primarily youth of color. I think about the socialized, racial stereotypes that creep into my consciouness, despite nearly a lifetime of trying to combat them. I think about how race affects my relationship with my Asian-American partner. Most recently, I’ve been thinking about how race relates to where I choose to live.
About a year ago my partner and I began considering a move from Denver to Boulder, CO. There are many reasons this idea made sense. We are both climbers and ultra runners. Living in Boulder would give us almost immediate access to amazing trail running and climbing. As a result, we were already spending the majority of our free time in Boulder. My partner works in Boulder and was growing weary of the daily commute. Many world class athletes train in Boulder, so there is no shortage of inspiration. I find more peace in the culture and atmosphere of a smaller, college town as compared to living in an urban area. Boulder is beautiful.
Yet, I was struggling to reconcile moving to a town with such little racial and economic diversity. About 5 1/2 years ago I moved from New York City to Denver, CO. Despite my upbringing in white suburban Detroit, I celebrated the rich diversity of New York. The rainbow of skin tones, languages, cultures, religions, sexual orientations/gender identities, and economic status made it easy to develop friendships with people very different from me. Although I value and maintain these friendships from hundreds of miles away, these people are no longer a part of my daily life.
Living in Denver I had to work hard to build a community of people who were not all white. Overtime I found pockets of diversity and sought these out to enrich my life. Yet truthfully, with the exception of my partner, the majority of my close friends in Colorado are white.
When the topic of moving to Boulder came up, I began wondering what it means about my values to move to an “even whiter” community. I questioned whether I should prioritize diversity and inclusiveness over things such as trails, rocks, and simplicity. In the end, the pull to move to Boulder won. I have now been living here for 6 weeks and I love it. I live in a small neighborhood surrounded with trees and flowers. It’s blissfully quiet. It takes 30 seconds from my front door to reach a trailhead. Each morning I start my day running through the rugged flatirons, surrounded by green valleys, cows, and the possibility of running into the bear who lives nearby. There are hundreds of boulders I can climb within 10 minutes of my house. I am happy and content.
I have yet to reconcile what it means to be living in a homogenous town. I am committed to intentionally seeking out cultural experiences in order to build relationships with people different from me. Yet I worry that I will grow complacent and do what’s easy, befriend the climbers and runners I spend time with, who are also white.
I also wonder about the potential of having a family and what it would mean to raise children in Boulder. In many ways, Boulder is an idyllic place to raise children. The violent crime rate is low, children are more likely to spend their time in the mountains rather than camped out in front the the television. In school students learn about topics ranging from global citizenship to sustainable, local farming. However, I would also want my children to develop friendships with kids who speak Spanish, with kids whose families cultural practices are different from their own. I wouldn’t want my children’s primary experience with people of color to be the stereotypes of poverty and violence portrayed in the media.
I also wonder about the potential of having a family and what it would mean to raise children in Boulder. In many ways, Boulder is an idyllic place to raise children. The violent crime rate is low, children are more likely to spend their time in the mountains rather than camped out in front the the television. In school students learn about topics ranging from global citizenship to sustainable, local farming. However, I would also want my children to develop friendships with kids who speak Spanish, with kids whose families cultural practices are different from their own. I wouldn’t want my children’s primary experience with people of color to be the stereotypes of poverty and violence portrayed in the media.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the answers to any of these dilemmas. In the meantime I will continue to contemplate them during the many hours I spend putting one foot in front of the other on the trails of Boulder with the hope I will eventually feel enlightened.
