The Model Jesuit Educator Calls Out Your Child's White Privilege
An essay written in 2020 by a Fordham University professor demonstrates that moral intimidation is the chosen means by which today's Jesuit educators combat whiteness.
An increasingly hysterical white woman with her dog in Central Park; the black man recording her behavior with his phone: The 69-second video of that Memorial Day incident went viral, flared up for a week or two, then retreated into the general chaos of the summer of George Floyd, whose fatal encounter with police in Minneapolis happened later that evening.
The confrontation of two unrelated people with the surname Cooper – Amy and Christian, a birdwatcher – inspired a renowned Jesuit educator, Fr. Bryan Massingale, to write an essay.
In that brief video, says Fr. Massingale, Amy Cooper “holds the key” that explains “how our culture frames whiteness and folks of color…how race works in America.”
His essay, “The Assumptions of White Privilege and What We Can Do About It,” illustrates the contemporary Jesuit approach to forming graduates committed to “doing justice.” White students are to acknowledge the privilege that makes them complicit in systemic racism and, as reparation for their whiteness, must become actively antiracist. Unless that happens, a Jesuit grad who is white remains racist.
Sacramento’s Jesuit High School faculty, staff, and administration discussed the essay’s contents within a week of its June 4, 2020, publication in the National Catholic Reporter. It was shared with teachers at Fordham Prep as the next school year commenced. It remains recommended reading for schools in the antiracist Association of Jesuit Colleges and Universities.
To appreciate the depth and breadth of Catholic Social Teaching’s entanglement with Critical Race Theory in the Jesuit school, Fr. Massingale’s essay is a good place to start.
Author of Racial Justice and the Catholic Church, Fr. Massingale is the paragon of today’s culturally enlightened Jesuit educator. A scholar-activist ordained as a priest in 1983 (though not a Jesuit), he has taught at both Marquette University and Fordham University, where he is presently a professor of Theological and Social Ethics, and holds the James and Nancy Buckman Chair of Applied Christian Ethics. His illustrious career is well described at the Ignatian Solidarity Network.
As he explains in a video conversation with Randy Pedro, Fordham Prep’s Director of DEI, Fr. Massingale has been conducting – and guiding students through – “difficult conversations” about race throughout his career.
When Jesuit educators lead students in such discussions, teachers like Fr. Massingale frame the conversations and define the terms.
All Jesuit teachers, according to revised Standard 14.2, help students develop “habits of reflection and social analysis” that lead them to become advocates for social change. That Jesuit educators have developed such “habits” for themselves we must accept as a given.
They are to model “the art of genuine listening and discourse,” per revised Standard 13.4, so that student discussions “promote equitable deeper understandings of different backgrounds and perspectives.” In Critical theory, “discourse” aims to compensate for disparities in power. It refers to the ways things can be talked about. People with dominant identities (in this case, white students) must learn new boundaries of speaking (and writing) so that what they say does not offend or slight those with marginalized identities.
Debate is not a priority in such discourse. Affirmation, acceptance, approval, and agreement are.
The standard’s “Reflection Questions” – reflecting Critical theory principles – ask Jesuit educators to consider the “formal and ongoing ways (they) listen to the experience of all students, especially Black, Indigenous, and students of color.” This reference to the BIPOC hierarchy of victimization is common in DEI+A identity politics, with black students given pride of place. We are to “listen” to all “experience,” but “especially” to the BIPOC “experience.”
Why “especially”? Because the BIPOC experience is the “lived experience” of oppression, of those identity groups marginalized systemically by the dominant white identity group. It is through “lived experience” that we “know” what is true — or as Shelby Steele observes, what we know is “poetic truth.”
The poetic truth “disregards the actual truth in order to assert a larger essential truth that supports one’s ideological position.” Poetic truths take “license with reality and fact.” They work by “moral intimidation rather than by reason, so that even to question them is heresy.”
The audience for Fr. Massingale’s essay – which “I assume (and hope) will be white” – could just as well be a classroom of students, who are to understand Amy Cooper – and themselves – through the author’s “lived experience” as a black man in America.
Amy Cooper’s Scarlet W
“It has never been easy to be black in America,” he begins. “Still, the past few months have pushed me to depths of outrage, pain and despondency that are unmatched in my 63 years of life.”
He cites Covid-19’s inequitable adverse effects on people of color, the killings of Armaud Arbery, of Breonna Taylor, and of George Floyd in the litany of horribles that “weighs on my spirit.”
But it is one particular event, although “not the most heinous,” that provokes Fr. Massingale’s examen.
Here is the video.
Here is the way Fr. Massingale summarizes it.
After a black man tells her to obey the posted signs that require her to leash her dog in a public park, she tells him she's going to call the police "and I'm going to tell them that there's an African American man threatening my life." Then she does just that, calling 911 and saying, "There's a man, an African American, he has a bicycle helmet. He is recording me and threatening me and my dog." She continues, in a breathless voice, "I'm being threatened by a man in the Ramble [a wooded area of Central Park]. Please send the cops immediately!" This despite the fact that Christian Cooper's camera records the events and shows that he made no threatening moves toward her, spoke to her calmly and without insult, and kept his distance from her the whole time.
In short, she decided to call the police on a black man for nothing more than politely asking her to obey the park's rules. And made up a lie to put him in danger.
Narratives are the bedrock of all Critical theories. The more striking the narrative, the more it stirs emotions, the more politically useful it is.
Fr. Massingale reiterates the journalistic narrative formed within 48 hours by the New York Times. Christian Cooper’s camera shows us that he did “nothing more than politely” ask her to obey the park’s rules. And then – like the wife of the owner of Bryant’s Grocery & Meat Market in Money, Mississippi, or a young Mayella Ewell – Amy Cooper puts his life “in danger” with a lie.
From 69 seconds in a woman’s life, Fr. Massingale derives 20 assumptions of white privilege that manifest how deeply whiteness and white supremacy are “absorbed” by white people “just by living.”
“She knew what she was doing,” says Fr. Massingale. “And so do we. We understand her behavior.”
Amy, he says, “assumed that she would have the presumption of innocence,” and that Christian, being a black man, “would have a presumption of guilt.” She “assumed that her race would be an advantage,” and that “his race would be a burden” once the police arrived. She “assumed that she could exploit deeply ingrained white fears of black men…to keep a black man in his place.” She “assumed that if he protested his innocence against her, he would be seen as ‘playing the race card,’” and that “no one accuses white people of playing the race card when using race to their advantage.” She “assumed that the frame of ‘black rapist’ versus ‘white damsel in distress’ would be clearly understood by everyone: the police, the press and the public.” She “assumed that a black man had no right to tell her what to do…(and) that the police officers would agree.”
“I am not a mind reader,” says Fr. Massingale, but “without these assumptions, her words and actions – her lies – make no sense.”
Within hours of the video's worldwide exposure, Amy had been doxxed – her home address, phone number, employer, and email were all over the internet. A crowd gathered in front of her apartment. She lost her job the next day: “We do not tolerate racism of any kind at Franklin Templeton,” declared her now-former employer. The rescue agency took back her dog.
By the end of the second day, she called a news station and issued an abject apology for her behavior. Then the pariah left town, the epitome of the entitled white woman, the “Karen.”
Our Ignorance Matters Too
The narrative that galvanizes Fr. Massingale’s discourse does not, however, align with the reality of the incident, which began long before Christian Cooper started recording.
Using “current events” as a springboard for an essay, a “courageous conversation,” or an “uncomfortable discussion” about race in a classroom has at least one major pitfall, which Jesuit educators, like their public school counterparts, overlook – or ignore – to the detriment of all their students.
What don’t we know?
That is the first question involving a “current event” that ought to be addressed by any educator (or his students).
But when one is in the “depths of outrage,” what we don’t know is likely not entertained. And when the aim is for the greater good – a society challenging white privilege – bypassing questions that might expose one’s ignorance is a mere byproduct.
A few words from a current event – “Hands up, don’t shoot!” – ignite passions that stamp the narrative about it as indisputably accurate. We “know” those words were said. Only after many months of investigation did federal and state officials admit that Michael Brown had never uttered those words, or anything like them, when he kept moving toward the police officer.
A video that goes viral has a built-in trap. We see through a single lens what occurs within a specific span of time. Context is missing.
Based upon a viral portion of the video of Covington Catholic boys, we “knew” white privilege explained their “hostile” treatment of a peaceful “Indian elder.” One conservative publication – joining the mainstream media and many Catholic priests and prelates heaping obloquy on the red-capped teenagers – embarrassed itself with an article comparing the boys’ actions to Roman soldiers spitting on the Cross, an article the editors have since disappeared.
What we don’t know should prevent a rush to judgment about human behavior. To admit we do not know enough – and may not know for a long time – requires patience and humility, attributes learned with difficulty and strengthened through continuous training, necessary even for future saints. To decide that we “know” because our “lived experience” confirms it only requires an ideology.
When Fr. Massingale joined in the media pile-on of Amy Cooper, he too converged on her white identity and “othered” the human being he had never met.
And what does it matter if Fr. Massingale and the “newspaper of record” are wrong about important facts? What happens then?
Nothing. The narrative they created remains. The social justice point has been made. Class is dismissed.
The Narrative Builds a Scaffold for Amy
“We don't want to admit,” asserts Fr. Massingale, “that present in Central Park that morning was the scaffolding of centuries-long accumulations of the benefits of whiteness. Benefits that burden people of color. Benefits that kill black and brown people.”
This is standard Critical theory analysis – and prevailing Jesuit dogma.
Present in Central Park that morning were two people. That’s it. Amy, with her dog, and Christian, the birdwatcher taking a video. Their dispute was another in an ongoing series of disputes between Christian, to whom a park rule mattered, and dog owners who disregarded the rule.
Whatever scaffolding exists in this video appeared only after the video goes viral. The media, well-versed in the Critical race theory narrative, rapidly constructed the scaffold. But a Jesuit teacher formally positioned Amy on its platform as a symbol.
Fr. Massingale – priest, teacher, ethicist – exposes before his audience Amy’s privilege, the outward sign of the “disturbing interior disease” that is white supremacy.
It wasn’t until a year later that journalism occurred. Kmele Foster, co-host of The Fifth Column podcast and co-founder of Freethink media, investigated what happened prior to the video. His investigation provides perspective – and context – on both Amy’s and Christian’s actions.
The report by Megan Phelps-Roper for the Substack site Common Sense with Bari Weiss appeared on August 3, 2021, as “The Real Story of the ‘Central Park Karen.’” It is accompanied by a podcast in which Weiss interviews Foster, an interview that serves as a warning for all of us who teach.
Here is what Fr. Massingale did not know:
• Disputes between Christian and other dog owners had been ongoing.
Long-existing tensions between dog people and birders in parts of Central Park mirrored the more recent friction between New Yorkers who wore masks there and those who didn’t.
Although the media never mentioned it, a few days before his dispute with Amy, Christian spoke at a recorded community meeting about the “super ugly” situation between dog walkers and birders in the Ramble and Strawberry Fields, where the rules prohibit unleashed dogs.
Christian had been making videos of people with unleashed dogs well before his encounter with Amy. He had developed other tactics designed to make dog walkers comply with leash rules; for example, he always carried dog treats in a fanny pouch as part of his compliance strategy. He had, by his own admission at the meeting, earned “my rep as a dog-hater,” which “serves me well in the park.”
At the meeting, Christian also stated that he wanted more police presence in the park to address the problem of dog-owning rule-breakers. Lack of policing, rather than too much, was for him a problem.
• Amy is not the first person to feel threatened by Christian’s tactics.
Before his encounter with Amy, Christian had been in confrontations with other dog owners. He had “been assaulted twice so far this spring, people actually putting their hands on me, which really surprises me, because I am not a small guy.”
One dog owner, Jerome Lockett, who is himself black, stated in an affidavit (here at Exhibit A) that he had been approached “aggressively” by Christian, who shouted, “You need to leash your dog! They can’t be off-leash in here.”
When Lockett ignored the shouts, Christian, “gripping” the “helmet attached to his side,” attempted to “lure” Lockett’s dog away with treats. Lockett pushed Christian away from his dog.
According to Lockett, Christian can be “threatening with his body language and screaming.” He revealed that “two fellow dog owners have had similar situations with this man, but don’t feel comfortable coming forward because they’re white. They think they’ll be seen as some ‘Karen’ or whatever.”
Others who encountered Christian describe “eerily similar” details, says Foster: his yelling at people about their unleashed dog, his luring of the dog with treats while gripping a helmet that made people “feel threatened about their safety or the safety of their dog.”
• Christian wrote a Facebook post about his confrontation with Amy before the video went viral.
Within hours of the incident with Amy, Christian wrote about his encounter on his Facebook page.
He told her, “Look, if you’re going to do what you want, I’m going to do what I want, but you’re not going to like it.” Then, he called to the dog – “Come here, puppy!” and pulled out the “dog treats I carry for just (such) intransigence.”
The New York Times buried the exact words of Christian’s threat near the end of its major 2,500 word “inside story” article two weeks later.
• Amy’s Camera Eye and Ear
Amy hears Christian’s threat. She sees the treats and the helmet. As the video starts, Amy, her leash in one hand, has grabbed her dog with the other to keep it away from the treats.
When she looks up, she sees Christian recording her, which, Amy says in an interview with Foster, confuses her “because I’m clearly getting ready to leash my dog.” Once the recording begins, she says, Christian’s “whole demeanor changes”: his “dominant” voice suddenly goes from angry to meek.
As we hear Amy speaking to the 911 operator, she becomes more and more frantic. What we do not hear is the operator’s voice, nor the awful connection, which turned the call into a fiasco of frustration. What we also do not hear is Christian’s tone of voice prior to turning his camera on.
• Amy Crosses a Red Line
She is white, though, and he is black, and she said something that violates the prevailing culture’s rules if you are white.
She said quite clearly to Christian, “I am going to tell them (the cops) there is an African-American man threatening my life!” She crossed a line. She referred to the man’s race, and that can only mean one thing.
Anyone who disagrees with his 20 assumptions about Amy, says Fr. Massingale in his Fordham Prep conversation, must “come up with another explanation” for why she immediately referenced his race.
Fr. Massingale assumes she had no reason to feel threatened. Amy is not – for him – a female alone in an isolated area of the park suddenly confronted by a much larger man with a bike helmet, who is yelling at her about a dog, telling her she wouldn’t like what he’d do if she didn’t comply, then taking out treats to lure her pet away from her.
Fr. Massingale assumes that Amy is playing the role of “white damsel in distress” without considering whether any event from her past might be influencing her behavior. He is ignorant of the “lived experience” of a woman who, when she was 19 in college, “was the victim of a sexual assault.” He does not imagine this possibility.
Based on the experiences of other dog walkers with Christian, is it possible that Amy was genuinely fearful? Unlike Jerome Lockett, she is female. Unlike Christian, she is not practiced in the tactics of confrontation concerning dogs.
Had she been color-blind, she would have waited until the 911 operator asked for a description before she uttered the tell-tale words.
Instead, she acknowledged an identity and brought it to the fore.
Antiracists – who mock the notion of a white person claiming to be color-blind, who declare that the refusal to see race is a refusal to see racism, who demand color-conscious policies to create racial equity, who laser-focus on identities – label Amy’s behavior as racist because she violates the permissible boundaries of discourse.
Perhaps, having no Jesuit teacher to educate her, she is untutored in the Critical “art of discourse.” To be color-conscious when stating your intention to inform the police is offensive, evidence of “callous indifference” to black life.
Antiracists make the prevailing culture’s rules: A person must see color but can not verbalize color unless that verbalization meets pre-approved racial equity benchmarks. In this incident she did not check her privilege, its whiteness embodying a mortal threat to a black body.
Amy’s Redemption — and Your Child’s — Awaits the Antiracist Baptism
This does not mean she's a bad person. Plenty of good people remain unconsciously racist, oblivious to their white privilege until they transform their consciousness through antiracism/anti-bias training.
She’s not someone who would, as Fr. Massingale writes, “vote for or support a president who is blatantly racist, mocks people of color, separates Latino families and consigns brown children into concentration camps.” No, she’s a good person, Fr. Massingale tells Fordham’s diversity director. We “know” this, he says, because “she voted for Hillary.”
But all “good” Catholics must be willing, he states, to face the “uncomfortable truths” of their complicity in systemic racism. They must see themselves in Amy Cooper and “sit in the discomfort this hard truth brings. Let it become agonizing. Let it move you to tears, to anger, to guilt, to shame, to embarrassment.”
Ever since the summer of 2020, Jesuit high schools, following their university siblings down the public school path of antiracist wokeness, have wrapped their self-proclaimed “structurally racist” institutions in a self-flagellating moral superiority.
Fr. Massingale is the ideal teacher for the Jesuit school, for he models both the “habits of reflection and social analysis” and the “art of discourse” that directors of DEI+A in all Jesuit schools applaud.
White people must change – must challenge “the assumptions of white privilege that sustain Amy Cooper’s universe.” Active antiracism must be “embraced” as a “fundamental requirement of Christian discipleship.” Then, says Fr. Massingale, we can “create a new society…where all lives truly do matter because black lives finally will matter.”
How will Jesuit educators make this happen? In their schools, of course — with your children.