Daniel is a quiet, lanky Chinese American man. While ministering at a local college, he would ask the students he mentored, “Where are you going next?” If it was appropriate, he would ask, “Would you take me with you?” Then he would strike up spiritual conversations with his students’ friends, which helped his students observe trust-building ways to communicate. Daniel was eager to hear people’s spiritual questions, and he asked how he could be caring for and praying for the different communities he encountered. Daniel’s calm and easygoing demeanor easily won the trust of the strangers he met.
One day, he went to the Black Student Union (BSU) with Shauna, one of the black women in his group. Clearly, he was not black, but he was warmly greeted by Shauna’s friends. Suddenly, a stern-faced young Jamaican American man walked up to Daniel and asked, almost demandingly, “What are you doing here?” Daniel was quite taken aback, but he responded, “I came with Shauna to meet BSU students and ask about how I could be praying for you and how our community could better serve you spiritually.” The young man’s demeanor softened and he said, “That’s cool.” Daniel and the young man then started a conversation together that was quite different in tone to the original question.
“What are you doing here?” was probably the question reverberating through the Samaritan woman’s head when she first met Jesus by the well in John 4. Jesus does the unexpected thing by asking her to give him a drink. She responds with, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (John 4:9).
Now when some of us read that, we think, Come on, lady! It’s Jesus, for crying out loud. And he’s not doing anything terrible—just asking for a drink! But we must remember the context. Jesus was a Jewish man traveling through the heart of Samaritan territory. Six hundred years of ethnic tension, civil war, and bloodshed divided their peoples. When this Samaritan woman sees Jesus, she sees his ethnicity. Was this going to be an aloof, condescending, or hostile Jew? The last thing she expects is kindness.
We learn a lot about Jesus by looking at what he does to build trust with this Samaritan woman, who doesn’t know the good news and has every reason to distrust him. Jesus wants to share his good news with her, but he needs her to trust him in order for her to be able to hear it. In their book I Once Was Lost, Doug Schaupp and Don Everts write that trust-building is essential in connecting with a non-Christian so that they can eventually get to a place of spiritual conversation.1 Without trust, you can’t move forward in sharing the gospel relationally.
Likewise, we can’t just share the story of Jesus and his redemption of us in our first conversation with someone. Talk about intense and potentially scary. Jesus could have said to the Samaritan woman, “I’m a nice Jewish man, I promise!” But that may have further raised the woman’s suspicions and possibly led to the question, “Do you even know how to be kind to me?”
Imagine you’re a Kintsukuroi cup that has been resealed to show the gleaming story of Jesus’ healing in you. Someone places you in a cupboard with other cups and vases, many with cracks. While Jesus’ story in you is beautiful, the way you interact with others matters. Happily proclaiming your redemption story while bumping into the other cups will cause their cracked parts to deepen. Your carelessness doesn’t communicate the gospel to the other who needs Jesus’ redemption and healing. We need skills to live in multiethnic community.
Many of us enter into ethnically diverse communities and church settings with good intentions, wanting to communicate that we are not one of “those people.” But words without countercultural actions are cheap. We need show that we are trustworthy by understanding that when we interact with an ethnic other, we could represent any of the following and have no idea which one we are:
1.A person whose people have been friendly with their people
2.A person whose people have been hurt by their people
3.A person whose people have hurt their people
4.A person whose people have avoided or remained distant from their people
You can hope that you’re a category one person to all people, but that’s not likely in our broken world. So how do you start reconciliation with someone who may or may not like you because of your ethnic background? The solution is not to be colorblind. The solution is to start by building trust.
Ethnicity-aware trust-building is essential to inviting people to Jesus’s table. Many non-Christians don’t know that Jesus is good news, much like the Samaritan woman who regarded Jesus with suspicion. The small ways we enter into conversation lay down the foundations of trust for long-term relationship as we embody God’s hospitality to believers and nonbelievers alike.
We must offer the hospitality of God to a racially and ethnically broken world by adopting and embodying crosscultural skills. Jesus did such when he stopped by the well and asked the Samaritan woman for a drink. He asks for a favor and addresses her as “woman” (the Greek text uses the word gynai, which some modern English versions of the Bible translate as “mother”).2 Even so, the woman was suspicious that a Jewish man would even try to talk to her. But that request started the slow process of her asking questions, seeking, and entering the kingdom. Likewise, we need to first intentionally build trust across ethnicities and cultures.
The very first step is a simple one. Jesus travels to the middle of Samaria to greet a woman ethnically different from him. Likewise, do the same: go and visit a community that is ethnically different from yours, entering in with a learning posture.
When Tina, a Korean American, realized that a large Vietnamese community on campus wasn’t being reached, she didn’t invite them to her Christian group. Instead, she befriended some Vietnamese students, which led to visiting the Vietnamese Student Association and attending their meetings. She built trust by learning their culture and stories, which eventually led to spiritual conversations and conversion.
My friends who work at urban, mostly black community centers have a common refrain they share with potential volunteers: don’t be like all the other suburban, mostly white volunteers that come in and try to “fix” everything. If you don’t have trust with the people in the room, your suggestions will sound condescending, uninformed, or just plain prejudiced. Participate by listening and observing. The volunteers that thrive are the ones who come in quietly and serve while learning. They earn the respect and trust of the community’s gatekeepers, the people with influence who say, “This guy is trustworthy. He’s with me.”
Conversely, when someone steps into your space—church, school, or workplace—and is the ethnic minority in the room, extend hospitality. Be the first to say hi and welcome them. I do this with white, black, and Latino newcomers at my majority Asian American church. I’ve been surprised at how willing ethnic minorities have been to stay at our church, but they tell me, “You and your husband made us feel so welcome. It helped us decide to make this our home.” Invite your coworker out to lunch, say hi to your neighbor or dormmate. Being the minority due to ethnicity, gender, class, field of study, life stage, or profession can always be an isolating experience. Counter that and be someone who embodies Jesus, who sees each and every person.
What you’re not doing is asking someone to be your token “special friend of _____ ethnicity.” If you’re white and extending hospitality toward a black American, you are choosing to extend Jesus’ hospitality in a countercultural way that challenges the historic enmities between the two. If you’re Asian American and extending hospitality toward a Latino American, you are counterculturally challenging the lack of positive meaningful interaction between those people groups. When Jesus greets the Samaritan woman and chooses to have prolonged dialogue with her, he is honoring her in ways that were unusual for his people. Go out of your way to greet people who don’t look like you.
In the rhythm of get-to-know-you questions, Asian Americans (like many other people of color) almost always get asked a question about their ethnic background. However, it’s almost always poorly worded, as in,
“Where are you from?”
“Where are you really from?”
“What are you?”
For some African and Caribbean American children of immigrant families, they can answer the question of “Where are you from?” with pride, displaying their strong connection to their motherland. However, for most people of color, “Where are you from?” is implicit code for “I’m asking where you are from because you obviously don’t belong here.” It becomes a painful question that excludes because it assumes that white is the norm, or that only white and black people are Americans. Often, the person asking the question never intends to cause the kind of dissonance, pain, or anger that comes up, though it does reveal their bias. Think of asking that question of someone who is adopted. Do we really want to ask someone who is aware that they grew up away from their biological parents, “No, where are you really from?”
Some people of color, particularly biracial or multiracial people, get asked, “What are you?” as if people can’t easily categorize them and so ask out of consternation or confusion. But such a question and tone are inhospitable. They treat a person like an animal or a thing to be categorized instead of a person.
What’s the alternative? In the get-to-know-you process of asking questions, I start with something simple to find some common points of connection, such as, “What do you do?” or “How long have you lived here?” Then I ask, “What’s your ethnic background?”—and I ask this question of everyone, including white people.
When I asked Tiernan, a tall, platinum-blonde, blue-eyed woman, “What’s your ethnic background?” she raised her eyebrows and chuckled as she said, “Well, clearly I’m white.” I responded, “Yes, but you have the name of a Viking lord. Who named you? What’s your ethnic background?” It turns out Tiernan (a woman’s name that’s Gaelic in origin) has German and British roots, including a little bit of Irish. Then, just as I would any other student of color, I asked when her ancestors came to the United States and what she knew about her extended family, which resulted in a fun conversation. By asking this question of every person, even white people, it validates that we all have an ethnicity.
“What’s your ethnic background?” is a great way of asking someone about their ethnicity, and it avoids the less tactful and offensive alternatives. You might want to try out some other variants that feel more natural to you, such as, “What’s your family’s cultural background?” or “Tell me about your ethnic heritage.” A good follow-up question is, “Where’s home for you?” You can learn about the part of the country or the world people grew up in, and those who were constantly transplanted can answer open-endedly.
A question such as “What’s your ethnic background?” allows for a bigger answer than asking the more limited, “Where are you from?” It gives space to responders who are mixed, adopted, identify with their international roots, and more. For example, instead of assuming that someone is Chinese, the question allows someone to identify as Cambodian American. Instead of assuming that all Latinos are Mexican, it allows someone to identify as Salvadorian. Instead of assuming that all Native Americans are the same, “What’s your ethnic background?” allows someone the space to explain their place in the tribal diversity of the Native American people. In an increasingly more multiracial and diverse America, we need this question.
Not all people who are multiracial look multiracial. A light-skinned person of African descent could be the child of multiracial parents, or two light-skinned African Americans, or black Caribbean (Afro-Latino) parents. Instead of trying to guess, it’s better to ask and learn about their beautiful complexity.
As you ask more people, “What is your ethnic background?” you’re going to become more aware of the differences and similarities within macro-ethnic groups: white, black, Asian, Latino, and more. After you ask about hundred people in each macro-ethnic category about their ethnic backgrounds, you’ll start to notice the differences between Southern and Western Europeans, Korean Americans versus Vietnamese Americans, Indian Americans versus Middle Eastern Americans, Puerto Ricans versus Dominicans, Haitians versus Nigerians versus black Americans descended from slavery.
However, this should not be the first question you ask someone! Get to know their name, what they do for work or what they’re studying, where home is for them. Ask about ethnic background once you get past some of the niceties of small talk. After multiple interactions, you could ask, “What’s it like being (insert ethnicity) at your church/school/workplace?” This is a deep question that asks them to share their genuine experience, so don’t ask if you’re not willing to listen and refrain from arguing with the person. They may share things that are new to you.
We need to ask good questions that communicate our genuine interest in learning more about others’ ethnic backgrounds and cultures. People almost always feel more engaged if you ask them to share versus trying to prove how much you know about their ethnic background.
What makes a good question? Make sure that the person receiving your question doesn’t feel like they have to defend who they are in answering your question. Don’t make them feel like they are in a courtroom or a laboratory. Interrogative or accusatory questions make it sound like the person is different from your assumed normal and often make the person feel unsafe.
Here are some examples of questions and statements to avoid:
“Why do you do that?”
“Why do your people or _______ people do that?”
“That food/event/experience was ________ (gross, inefficient, chaotic). Why is it like that?”
“Aren’t you just overreacting? Why did you say that?”
For example, you may come from a culture where eating animal organs (tripe, liver, stomach) is not normative. However, most cultures around the world do eat all parts of the animal. If you say, “Ew, that’s gross,” what you end up saying is, “Your food is not normal, your people are not normal.” You define normalcy by your own standards, which ends up alienating people by making them feel uncomfortable.
Now, on the other hand, you may come from a culture where eating fermented milk solids developed by bacteria sounds terrible. But—surprise!—this is how cheese is made, which is normative to some and not to others. Everyone has a different reference point of what is normal, and we should stop asking questions that sound like we’re wondering why the person is not more like us.
In general, we need to avoid accusatory questions. Instead of putting the person on the spot for not being like you (with you as the judge and jury), it’s helpful to choose clarifying questions that invite deeper sharing. Start off by stating your desire to have good relationship with the person by asking a clarifying question.
“Could you tell me more? I’d love to understand better what that experience was like for you.”
“I think I missed something back there. Could you help me understand what was happening when ____ happened?”
“Forgive my ignorance, but I don’t know what _____ is. Could you explain it a little more so I can learn? Or is there a book I can read to learn more?”
“You seem upset. May I ask what is going on for you?”
“This might be an uncomfortable topic, but at some point, I’d love to know about what this is like for you. Could we talk about it sometime when you feel comfortable?”
These kinds of questions put you in the seat of responsibility, allowing you to embody a humble learning posture so that the person being asked doesn’t feel defensive.
One day, Walt, Julian, and I were walking together out of a seminary class. Walt is white with Irish American roots; Julian is black, born and raised in Chicago. Walt is a laid-back and thoughtful sports guy; Julian is an Ivy League graduate who loves jazz and Nietzsche. They both love theology. Walt asked us how we liked the class. I responded that I really appreciated the professor’s wide range of historical knowledge but noted that most of his stories about his diverse church congregation involved internationals, not American people of color. Julian mentioned that he found some things helpful, but he really struggled to receive the teaching because the professor was a middle-aged white man that reminded him of several white male pastors that in the past had hurt him and his mother, a black Methodist pastor. He also found some of the professor’s anecdotes pretty unhelpful.
Walt, a white man, had a choice. He could have just politely nodded and changed the topic, or he could have asked more questions. Walt bravely chose the latter and asked Julian, “Could you tell me a little more about what you found hard to receive from him as a professor? I’d love to understand more.”
Walt was training to be a pastor, and I was proud of him for asking a question instead of staying silent. Julian opened up, and Walt listened with compassion and respect as Julian shared about how his black family’s experiences with police differed greatly from the white professor’s. As we continued to talk, Walt and Julian started to bond over their mutual appreciation of theology, and it was wonderful to see them get to know each other on a deeper level. Walt’s learning posture helped communicate safety and friendship across the history of Julian’s bad experiences.
Learning about different ethnic backgrounds will help you build a base of knowledge and stories that helps you connect the dots. As you ask people about their stories, avoid language that generalizes or makes assumptions of others. Not everyone that is black will speak a certain way. Not everyone that is Asian or Asian American will have a certain type of personality. No one story will be the same for all Latino Americans. Not all white Americans are affluent.
In the movie The Namesake, the main character, Gogol, is an Indian American trying to fit in with his fellow New Yorkers. When he meets his girlfriend’s family friend, a white woman, she goes on a droning monologue about what she knows about India. It’s uncomfortable, and he doesn’t really have anything to say other than to politely nod. In my own life, I don’t feel connected to someone who tells me, “I visited Korea once,” or “I have a Korean friend.” That’s about them trying to show they’re enlightened, not about actually getting to know me.
Instead of such shallow attempts at conversation, become a story gatherer, someone who is quick to ask other people about their experiences. If you ever find yourself in the dangerous mindset of thinking or telling someone that you know more about their ethnic experience than they do, it’s time to check your pride and assumptions.
In the story of the Samaritan woman at the well, she tries to distance herself from Jesus when she says, “Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem” (John 4:20). Little does she know that her generalization of Jews does not fit this Jewish man.
In starting conversations, avoid assumptions about wealth, poverty, or preference for worship. You might start to notice some patterns or trends about these things in the stories shared by, for example, your black or Asian friends. Then it’s okay to ask them, “I think I see a pattern in the stories that you, Shelly, and Kyle tell. Is this a cultural thing, or do you just have some uncanny similarities?” Let your friends correct or affirm your observations.
My friend Andre, who’s black, had painful crosscultural conflict with a Chinese American coworker. Andre values passion, immediate responses, and engaging in conflict. He felt that his Chinese American colleague was reserved, careful, and almost too cerebral, which made Andre come to the conclusion that his colleague didn’t care about the team and its mission. Andre said to me, “It’s so weird because I grew up around Asian people.” I responded, “You grew up around Korean people. That’s a huge difference.” Andre was expecting his colleague to act Korean and so was misinterpreting his colleague’s quiet, more reflective nature as indifference.
As I meet more people, I see the influence of regional culture as well as ethnic culture. To me, the feel of white, black, Asian, and Latino folks from the Northeast is markedly different than the same ethnic counterparts from California, Texas, the South, or the Midwest. My Southern black friends are friendlier than my more reserved New England black friends. My white friends from Boston are more formal than laid-back Southern Californian white folks. My Jersey Asian friends are sassier than their Midwestern counterparts.
Regardless of regional differences, it’s important to know what trigger points to avoid. One of these in particular is ethnic slurs. It’s never okay to use ethnic slurs to refer to any ethnicity.3 I list some in the endnotes just so you know what I’m talking about. Never say these in conversation, perhaps with the exception of relaying a painful experience that happened to you. They reinforce derogatory stereotypes of brothers and sisters of our community, including white Americans. If you are not aware of what other ethnic slurs you need to avoid, search the internet for “derogatory ethnic slurs.” Any time I use a video clip or a testimony in my teaching that includes a slur word (particularly if it’s the N-word), I explain that we are not to repeat the slur because it inflicts pain.
There is debate about the N-word. Some rappers and black folks use it in different scenarios, so some nonblack people wonder why they can’t use it. There are also nonblack people who are told by their black friends that it’s okay to use the N-word. My response is this: black Americans themselves differ widely on this issue, and more importantly, we choose not to use the N-word because we want to be ethnically aware and invite others to Jesus and deeper community. Paul says to avoid every kind of evil (1 Thessalonians 5:22). Every ethnic slur has a history of pain, and so it’s better and more loving to avoid it when you know that it could trigger pain for others. What do you have to lose by being more hospitable and intentional? Choose to proactively love by avoiding a potentially hurtful word.
Different ethnic groups have some sensitive trigger points that you want to avoid. For example, Asian Americans are often called exotic, but such labels often betray an opinion that Asians are foreign and therefore un-American. That adjective has historically been used by Westerners to dehumanize Asian women into sexual objects. Black women despise having their hair touched by random strangers who don’t ask for permission and then exclaim, “It’s so different!” (This is similar to when people touch the belly of a pregnant woman without asking.) It’s a kind of exoticism that makes black women feel like objects at a freak show instead of people whose beauty should be genuinely admired.
I could make a long list of what not to do, but the general principle is to be aware of the larger historical scars that affect different ethnic groups. They will give you a clue as to the trigger points for different people groups because trigger points connect to larger historical contexts. Black men and women were treated as slaves, chattel, and seen as less than and not as real American people. Comments that express surprise about a black person being “articulate” betrays a bias about the intelligence of black people. Historically, Asian Americans were seen as exotic foreigners. When they are told, “Your English is really good,” such a comment reinforces the painful experiences of being treated as un-American. Because Latinos are viewed as unwanted “illegals,” neglecting to welcome and include them is painful.
White people also have some trigger areas, including a strong reaction to the words “white privilege” or “white supremacy” because they don’t really understand what those words mean. They often hear those words as an attack on them personally instead of hearing them as descriptions of historical and current practices of injustice. Combined with bad previous experiences in conversations about race as well as the dogged fear and desire to prove that “I am not a racist!” dialogue with white people can get very difficult. I’ve found that if I explain the larger meaning of those words, white people are more able to enter into conversation. This also allows me to be sensitive to lower-income white Americans who don’t resonate with having power; they struggle to understand that they do have privilege. My interest is not that they agree with the terms as labels—I want white people to understand the larger realities and steward their ethnic identities in those spaces.
Another general principle is to ask your friends whose ethnicities differ from yours about some unhelpful or offensive things that people do or say to them. You can also look it up on the web or read a book about the topic. But because you and I live in different places, I can’t presume to understand the regional context of where you live. Your friends of various ethnicities in your sphere will be some of the best teachers of what to avoid and what is acceptable. But you need to be willing to ask and learn.
If your friends point things out to you and correct you, receive that teaching. When you’re in a multiethnic community, you should always be learning about new experiences and new people, going to new depths. You’re never going to arrive at some destination of expert knowledge; instead, you’re in for a lifetime of learning. It’s not about learning the answers to a test. It’s about learning the steps to a dance so that you can enjoy the music and build on old steps as you encounter new moves and rhythms.
Every crosscultural experience with a new person or an old friend has potential to be a place of dissonance. If you make a mistake or encounter tension and then choose fear, anxiety, suspicion, or self-protection, you will end up responding by withdrawing, leveling criticism or accusation, and breaking trust in relationships. Choosing to be a learner means approaching with openness, adaptability, and curiosity. The end results will be deeper understanding and empathy in relationships.
As you grow in being part of a multiethnic community, you will find yourself in the position of being both learner and teacher. Have grace for yourself as you learn and make mistakes. Be quick to apologize and ask for forgiveness, and make sure you understand what you need to change. If you’re not sure about the outcome of an interaction, ask the person or someone who observed the interaction.
I had a bad habit of half-sitting and leaning on furniture that wasn’t designed for sitting. When visiting my friend Jeannie and her mom, I started to lower my butt to sit on an ornate dresser, not realizing that I was about to majestically plant myself on Grandma Chu’s ashes. Jeannie and her mom looked horrified and stopped me by yelling, “No!” I was thoroughly embarrassed, but I apologized profusely and asked for forgiveness. They were very gracious, and we were able to laugh about it afterward.
Likewise, when you see someone making mistakes in crosscultural interaction, be gracious toward them and help them learn how to be a better member of a multiethnic community. Avoid the accusatory confrontation of, “Why did you do that? Don’t you know better?” Oftentimes, the person does not know better. Coach them on how it could be better next time. Don’t focus only on what they did wrong—focus on what is being missed and the kind of interactions and friendships they could have in a multiethnic community.
I was part of a small group in which one of the women had never had friends of color. Linda was a white Southerner. She was easy to like, but I immediately noticed that she would say offensive comments without realizing that they were offensive (like calling sushi “gross”—my Asian sensibilities were deeply offended).
One day, we were by a lake and saw a flock of ducks. Seeing a duck with a darker, spotted complexion, Linda commented on how it was ugly. Her next comment unnerved me: “It’s an African American duck!” Linda didn’t seem to notice that her two comments were connected. I stood there wrestling with whether or not I should say something to her. I had just met Linda days earlier, and I didn’t want to shame her. But better me than a black friend who would have to endure such a conversation.
I talked to Linda the next day, and I said that while I enjoyed her company, I had something uncomfortable to bring up with her. I asked her to recall the conversation by the lake about the ducks. She said, “I said the duck was ugly and then . . .” Her eyes opened wide and she clapped her hands over her mouth. “I said it was an African American duck! Oh no!” Linda had not realized what she had said or the negative impact of those back-to-back statements until we replayed the conversation. Gently, I told her that some of her passing comments were not indicative of the warm and welcoming person I had experienced her to be otherwise. Weeks later, Linda sent me a card, thanking me for having a real conversation with her in a loving and gracious manner. She said it had opened her eyes to so much more around her. She wouldn’t have known if someone had not confronted her, and she would have repeated the same mistakes. Now, Linda could be more aware and sensitive to what she thought and spoke. She grew into a stronger and more effective leader as a result.
Andrew was a junior and serving as a residential advisor; his friend Daryl was the only black advisor among the twenty or so residential advisors. One day, one of their friends asked them if they remembered the classic ’80s movie The Breakfast Club. Most of them said yes, but Daryl’s response was surprising: “I hate that movie.”
“Why do you hate it?” Andrew asked him later. Daryl responded, “Because no one in it looks like someone I can relate to. Everyone is white.”
Andrew said he felt like scales fell off of his eyes. Daryl was right—every character in the movie was white. And if Daryl felt that way about this one movie, then what other life experiences would feel similar for Daryl and other black or nonwhite folks?
Andrew realized that he had falsely assumed that his ethnic experience was “normal.” I catch many white and nonwhite Americans referring to a white person as “American,” as if white American is the assumed normal (I often correct them by saying, “You mean ‘white American’”).
Nicolaus Copernicus was a Renaissance-era astronomer and mathematician who blew everyone’s minds when he said that the sun, not the earth, was the center of our solar system. We need a Copernican revolution in how we think of ourselves in multiethnic community—our ethnic cultures are not at the center! The only thing that serves as our center is Jesus, who helps us identify our idols, cultural beauty, and biases.
If you have grown up in the ethnic majority or around people who are ethnically similar to you, you may view yourselves as “normal” and others as “abnormal,” particularly if you are white and from a majority white context. Let go of the mindset that your normal is the right normal. In America, whether you are Asian, Middle Eastern, Latino, black, or white, we are all American. Canada, England, France, South Africa, Brazil—people of every ethnicity call those countries home. Our ethnic backgrounds enrich how we live out our nationalities. We should stop referring to white people as American and others as not.
Each of our cultures have sayings and assumptions about who are “safe” and “good” people and who are “bad” and “unsafe.” Our media is dominated by mostly white-normative views of ethnicity, so black people are often characterized as loud, emotionally volatile, violent, and criminal. Asian Americans are thought to be quiet, submissive, weak, and effeminate. Latinos are characterized as lazy or dangerous, Middle-Easterners as Muslim and terrorist, Native Americans as nonexistent or exotically “other.” White people are seen as less violent and more upstanding citizens, and this is seen in how we respond to strangers we encounter in the street. A study by Keith Payne shows that both white and nonwhite people tend to view black men as more threatening than white men.4
The best way to get rid of your implicit bias is to realize you have one and then to seek reduce it. Meet more people and ask learning questions in a posture of humility to find out more about the cultures of others. If you don’t have any black friends, make it a goal to meet one black person, then five, then ten, then a hundred. You won’t be able to separate out false stereotypes from general trends until you have spent time in conversation with others. The process of getting rid of or reducing your implicit bias takes many years, so be patient and be committed.
This list of things to do to build trust with people who are ethnically different than you may seem small and ordinary. But our lack of everyday interactions prevents us from getting to a place where we truly see each other, know each other, and can live in reconciliation with each other. Jesus modeled intentionality in interacting with non-Jews and brought his disciples into non-Jewish territory, making them uncomfortable and also forcing them to learn and ask new questions. Likewise, let us begin with the small steps needed to establish trust across ethnic barriers.
1.What’s your ethnic background? What foods or artifacts remind you of home or family?
2.Ask question number one of a couple friends who share your ethnic background and also those who are different from you. What did you learn or hear that you never knew before?
3.What message did you grow up hearing about different people groups? What family, community, educational, or media voices influenced such messages?
4.Who was seen as friendly?
5.Who was seen as untrustworthy or dangerous?
6.Who did you hear or receive very little messages about?
7.What is challenging about this chapter? What could you implement right away?
8.Who is someone that was a helpful teacher to you as you learned about other cultures? Why was it helpful?
Cultural Intelligence: Improving Your CQ to Engage Our Multicultural World by David A. Livermore
Disunity in Christ: Uncovering the Hidden Forces That Keep Us Apart by Christena Cleveland