THE DOLLARWAY SYNDROME: RACE, INDIVIDUAL GOODWILL, and the CONTINUING STRUGGLE FOR EQUALITY

This time Rob introduces an idea he's developing for a book. We'll explore it with him over the coming months.

Fifty plus years ago, I first observed something in American race relations I've never forgotten. I now call what I saw the Dollarway Syndrome. I noticed it while attending Dollarway, the Pine Bluff, Arkansas high school from which I graduated in 1969. I didn't call my observation the Dollarway Syndrome then. Naming it and getting an understanding of it required college, graduate school, law school, and the ensuing 50 years of living. Even though I can now define and describe it, explain its manifestations, and offer conjecture about what it means, I continue grappling with why it exists and how we deal with it individually and as a nation.

A Definition 

The Dollarway Syndrome is the inclination of white Americans to treat individual  black Americans with respect, kindness, civility, and compassion while, at the same time, supporting and espousing political and social policies and outcomes that oppress black people. After a rough start, at Dollarway I found acceptance, companionship, and caring. High school for me turned out like high school should — a time of personal growth and exploration punctuated by special memories, with a few enduring friendships thrown in for good measure.  I also saw and experienced insensitivity, cruelty, and hostility directed at an entire people. Many of my classmates loudly expressed indifference or even glee at the killings of Martin Luther King and Robert F. Kennedy and championed the political causes of George Wallace and other Southern human right violators.

King and Kennedy - 1963

In the intervening years, I've seen this duality in the workplace, sports, business, interpersonal relations, and other facets of American life. That such phenomena exist and thrive remains disconcerting. Exploring this now represents a late-in-life effort at getting my arms around it and offering a perspective those who've observed and experienced the Dollarway Syndrome might find helpful.

Changing Times

Since I noticed the Dollarway Syndrome, I've seen great racial change in America, including the end of de jure segregation, a rising black middle class, election of the first black President of the United States, and increasing incidence and acceptance of interracial marriage. These and other changes in America's racial picture signal progress toward equity and a just society. Nevertheless, the United 

States remains a nation troubled by racial discord, with significant gaps between blacks and whites in wealth, income, educational achievement, professional advancement, political strength, and other indicators of status and power. The Dollarway Syndrome persists and, in my view, promotes marginal progress while preventing real equity.

What I've seen also counsels that I accept the challenge of exploring how those who care about creating a just society can make the Dollarway Syndrome serve that goal. White people otherwise hostile to black political and social progress, in their respectful and civil treatment of individual blacks, show a capacity for finding common ground with those seeking societal change. Woodson argues racial 

justice requires finding allies who can see improving America's racial landscape as in their best interest or in the best interest of the country. They view it that way despite the continuing prevalence of partisanship, racial isolation, and tribalism. Woodson's notion prompts an important question: How do blacks and whites form alliances that can extract America from the racial ruts in which we've found ourselves since my Dollarway days?

The last ten years have shown us hope and despair on matters of race. Barack Obama's election in 2008 provided  

the tantalizing, if ultimately false, hope of a colorblind society. During Trump’s first years, we've seen ugliness we thought we'd left behind. Obama's ascension and what's happened early in the time of Trump, signal opportunity and challenge. They show what we can do and what we haven't done. By looking through the prism of the Dollarway Syndrome and its maddening duality, perhaps we can see how we build on the opportunities while tackling the challenges.

The Personal Part

My history affects my view of this. I was born at the tail end of

the Jim Crow era and grew up in a small, segregated Arkansas town. I experienced the good fortune of being the child of educated parents who cherished learning, promoted hard work, and, by example, steered me away from hate. They kept their eyes open for injustice, but believed in the promise of better days and taught me optimism, not hopelessness. Partly because of them, I kept seeking education, which has served me well and shielded me from much of the world's harshness.

Race, however, always lurked in the background of my life. What I experienced and observed at Dollarway never left my consciousness. Things have changed, but, then again, they've stayed the same. That fact informs and defines my exploration of the Dollarway Syndrome.

Perhaps readers have experience with the Dollarway syndrome.  We invite them to share.