Actually, I’m not white at all. I’m a kind of washed out beige color, and I don’t think I’ve ever known a black person. I’ve known many people who were various shades of brown who were labeled "black," and I’ve known some "black" people who were lighter than I am. That’s my point: They’re labels, not descriptions although the average person of my race has a lighter complexion than the average person of the race called black.
A common reason for labels to change is what I’ll call euphemization, although I’ve never found it in a dictionary. Changing our name for something to a word that "sounds nicer" is usually an indication that we are somehow embarrassed by the nature of something, not just by its name. A couple of examples should demonstrate this.
In the late 19th and early 20th Century doctors had to certify that some "sanitarium" patients were "lunatics." Today, most of us reserve that word for other drivers and politicians we don’t agree with. But in the late 1800s, lunatic had become a more polite way to say "mad" or "berserk." Sadly, mental illness hasn’t changed dramatically in the last 150 years, although a number of labels have come into and gone out of favor, in addition to mad, crazy, or lunatic. "Insane" was a nice way of saying it for a while: Not sane, when sane just meant "free from hurt or disease." But that eventually became offensive, and no one relished having to tell a parent that a child was "insane." The label "mentally ill" seems to be headed down the same path.
Also in my lifetime, the words "moron," "idiot," and "imbecile" fell out of acceptable usage. The same limitations are now described as mildly, moderately, or severely mentally retarded. And surprise! We’re not happy hanging the "retarded" label on people, so in the schools we use "slow learner" and elsewhere terms like "developmentally limited" or even "exceptional."
The accepted name for that small room in your home with the plumbing fixtures and the ventilator fan has changed just as much. Even if it had no tub or shower, it used to be called a bathroom. We’re embarrassed about the fact that we still have to do number one and number two just like all other mammals, so the words that said what it was really for became obscenities. Then, since we knew what everyone really went to the bathroom to do, we started calling it a "restroom," although there’s seldom a bed or recliner there. And then, ooops! "Restroom" comes to sound primitive and smelly, so we call it a "washroom."
I’ve been "white" as long as I can remember. There are some terms intended to be insulting to my race, and while I get the message, none of them bother me much because I’ve never seen those words accompanied by lynch ropes or cattle prods. I understand that others cannot say the same thing about derogatory terms applied to their race, and, frankly, I share in their repugnance at those words.
When I was a boy, some six decades ago, I knew people who were referred to as "colored." The word "Negro," though it’s only Latin for black or dark, I don’t remember hearing or reading much except in studying geography and the social sciences. A colored person would sometimes become angry at any reference to Africa or African, almost as though that were equivalent to the unforgivable "n" word.
Even though the word "colored" was still in common usage, a prominent woman of that race in the city where I lived took offense at hearing it in my vocabulary. "Don’t call me ‘colored,’" she said. "That sounds like there’s something wrong with who I am. I’d rather be called (n-word) than colored. Just say black."
Soon after that the "black is beautiful" slogan became popular. All of the "black" people I knew were happy about it, as was I. To me, it seemed to have eliminated one of the invisible walls between us, walls I never liked. Although those were troubled times – governors standing on bridges, dogs sicced on peaceful demonstrators, the murder of Rev. Martin Luther King – I believe that it was the beginning of true liberation from the legacy of slavery.
As a psychologist I’m sure that words influence our perception. Can you deny that you expect a boy called "Percival" to be different from one called "Spike"? Wouldn’t it make a difference whether I described you as "youthful" as opposed to "immature"? Even though it’s rarely descriptive in a literal sense, "black" connotes a sense of wholeness, of equality, of pride. White people don’t need to call themselves "uncolored" or "pinkish," and certainly not "European-American."
I feel awkward about calling a black person an "African American." There are several reasons for that. One is that I’ve known people who hailed from Africa who were as Caucasian as any of my ancestors, so technically, it doesn’t define the person’s race. Another is that the individual’s forebears may not have lived in Africa for many generations. If his or her great-great-great grandparents grew up in, say, France, wouldn’t a name such as "black French-American" be more truthful? If, indeed, we need any kind of label at all.
But the biggest problem is that it seems as though I’m apologizing for the person being who he or she is. It’s as though I’d rather not tell you that the chairman of the philosophy department, or my cousin’s boyfriend, or my next door neighbor, is a member of the Negroid race. I’m trying to find a gentler way of saying it. As though it’s something undesirable, like retardation or psychosis, or what we go to the "washroom" to discharge. After a generation of "black" being the accepted name, every time someone says "African-American" it plants the suggestion that "black" is not so good, neither as a word nor as a race.
I’m genuinely sorry that people of that darker race have been treated poorly, but changing their label won’t change that, and it certainly won’t change how they are perceived, at least not for the better. If you are a member of that race, and you insist I call you African American, you won’t be hurting me in any way, but I believe you will be doing yourself a disservice. It’s as OK to be black as it is to be white or oriental. In my opinion, there’s no need to periodically change what you call yourself, because there’s nothing wrong with what you are.
Paul Karsten Fauteck, Psy.D.
PS: Several people have called my attention to the fact that "Oriental" can be taken as an insult. That's not my intention. Please see "comments" to this post. PKF