Why won't Chicago mayor talk to white reporters?
Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot landed in a maelstrom of controversy last month when she said she only would allow journalists of color to interview her for pieces about her first two years in office. Fox News provocateur Tucker Carlson called Lightfoot a racist and a monster when he learned of the mayors position. A conservative news outlet, the Daily Caller, is suing the mayor saying its First Amendment rights were violated. If Ive learned anything in the last 33 years as a journalist, its that sources will talk to whom they want to. Certainly. Perhaps. Nope. After all, thats a term thats being bandied about quite a bit to describe her actions. Well, racism is discrimination on steroids, powered by privileges given to those in the culturally dominant race. In the United States its a bias with a pickax. Its a prejudice with the weight of 400 years of slavery, Jim Crow laws and history behind it. Thats a distinction that has sometimes been hard for white people, myself included, to discern. This latest dustup with the mayor had me thinking about a fellow by the name of Ennis Williams, an assistant high school principal I knew when I was a young education reporter in Galveston, Texas. Mr. Williams was a wonderful source for a first-year reporter. I went to him regularly for guidance as I attempted to cover a community scarred by years of racial hatred. We were less than 20 years removed from segregated schools, libraries and other institutions in that small city. Of course, when you are 22 or 23 years old you think 20 years is almost an eternity. My generation of journalists was the first at the newspaper not to have been educated in segregated schools. None of us remembered the once ubiquitous whites only and colored signs that marred the community. The newspapers track on race was dismal. It editorially supported Jim Crow laws during the Civil Rights Era. Up until the 1970s, it wouldnt run Black and white obituaries on the same page. And when I started at the paper in 1988, there wasnt a single Black or brown face in the entire newsroom  in a community that was a majority minority. Older reporters would dismissively refer to the Black neighborhood north of Broadway as The Jungle. The managing editor would determine how prominently crime stories were played based in part on whether the victim was Black or white. Despite this institutional legacy, I routinely went to Mr. Williams, who was Black, for guidance on how to cover the entire community. He was always gracious and helpful. And then his brilliant daughter Elicia became enmeshed in a controversy through no fault of her own. Elicia had the highest grade point average in her class and was selected to be the first Black valedictorian at the historically white Ball High School. A school administrator, who was Ennis Williams boss, came forward and announced that he made a mistake when publishing how grades would be weighted to determine class rank. Because of this he said that Elicia would only be a co-valedictorian along with a white girl. All hell broke loose in the community. Recriminations were fired across the towns racial divide. Many Black people perceived that it was an attempt to diminish the accomplishments of one of their own. I called Mr. Williams for comment and he wouldnt speak with me. But the next day a Black reporter from the Houston Post had an interview with him. A mid-level editor chewed me out for not landing the interview. I was hurt as only a 23-year-old striving reporter with little life experience can be. I kept thinking the only reason Mr. Williams wouldnt speak to me is because Im white. Thats reverse discrimination. Thats wrong. More than three decades later, I view this situation differently. A person can speak or not speak with whomever they want. Thats life. But more importantly, Mr. Williams perceived the systematic racism in the community, which included a newspaper that didnt employ anyone who looked like him. Also, while I could sympathize with the struggles Mr. Williams faced, I could not empathize. After all, I never knew the pain of not being able to check out a book from the white library as he did while growing up. No social convention expected me to step into the gutter when meeting a woman of a different race on the sidewalk. But for Mr. Williams  and millions of other African Americans  that was their life experience. But more significantly, it wasnt just about historic wrongs. The newspapers racial shortcomings were readily apparent to anyone who cared to look. In the three decades since then, Ive had time to ponder a difficult topic: white privilege. Please note that its an advantage that is not necessarily sought and it doesnt mean one hasnt had struggles in their life. It just means one of those struggles hasnt been related to the color of their skin. Over the years, Ive seen sources who have consistently shared information with me and other white reporters suddenly become mum around my Black colleagues. Its not right, but its an unsought advantage bestowed nonetheless. So, when Mayor Lightfoot said she would only speak to journalists of color as a means of encouraging greater diversity in the city hall press corps, my thoughts are these: I dont like it because it is needlessly polarizing and it restricts public access rather than expanding it. That said, while I dont like the policy, I understand where its coming from. Scott Reeder is a veteran statehouse journalist; contact him at Scottreeder1965@gmail.com.