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[Pamela Jackson-Malik/The Daily Pennsylvanian

Sometimes, a single event can perfectly crystallize a pervasive social challenge. Such was the case with an experience I had two weeks ago.

Every Wednesday, I take the Blue Line to northeast Philadelphia to go to the Police Athletic League of Philadelphia, a community center set up by the city police department. I am the instructor for the center's "Positive Images" program, a course for middle school girls that provides fun after-school activities that build self-esteem. My group consists of 15 energetic girls, all black, between the ages of 11 and 15.

Last Wednesday, I conducted a unit on table manners and etiquette. After perfecting our manners in the classroom, we planned to go to a restaurant the following week so we could practice our skills.

We started by brainstorming some examples of good and poor restaurant etiquette. The girls were full of suggestions. "Always say please and thank you," offered Angela (all names have been changed).

"And don't sneeze on your food!" 11-year-old Crystal giggled, before adding, "and don't be fartin' all the time!" After further discussion of this important topic, we all agreed that unrestrained farting should be avoided.

After we assembled a list of dos and don'ts, I passed out plates, napkins and silverware so that we could imagine we were at a fancy restaurant. Then, just as an exercise, I asked the girls to pretend to have comically perfect manners. "Let's be as ridiculously proper and polite as we possibly can," I said, expecting them to affect English accents and call each other "dahhh-ling."

To my surprise, they began acting like valley girls. "Omigod!" Alexandra interjected. "Like, totally! Like, I can't believe I broke a nail!"

Kianna crossed her legs and leaned in conspiratorially. "Like, no way," she exclaimed in a stage whisper. "Me, too! And did you see what that girl was wearing in the cafeteria? Like, sooo gross."

The conversation quickly devolved into a scene from Clueless. I was stunned. Did they really think valley girl behavior was polite?

My reverie was interrupted by an angry proclamation from Angela. "Y'all just actin' white!" she accused, sparking substantial grumbling and controversy from the rest of the girls. Alexandra offered, "Well, I can act white, because my mom's Puerto Rican."

"I have another suggestion for the list," Kianna interjected. "Don't be like no project woman!"

Further uproar ensued. "We can't help actin' like that," proclaimed one girl, just as another shouted, "Yes we can!"

And then I decided it was time to end the exercise and transition to a new activity. As I wrote their suggestions on the board, I encouraged the girls to refine their comments so that they were about specific behaviors, rather than types of people. When I asked Kianna to clarify "acting like a project woman," she laughed, contorted her face into a comical frown and hunched her 12-year-old body until she resembled an overweight, middle-aged woman.

"Hey there!" she yelled, pointing across the room. "Lookit that cornbread! I'm gettin' me some of that!"

The other girls burst into gales of laughter, and even I had to acknowledge that Kianna had comedic flair. At the same time, though, I was uncomfortable with the grotesque racial stereotype. After a moment of thought, I wrote, "Don't yell in the restaurant or bring excessive attention to yourself. Wait your turn for your food."

"Is this what you mean?" I asked.

Although the girls in my group had a casual comfort with the banter, racial stereotypes and all, I did not. Instead, I had questions. Why did they think the valley girl stereotype was polite? I'm from the San Fernando Valley outside Los Angeles -- the "home" of the valley girl -- and I don't consider it polite. I think it has negative connotations of superficiality and materialism. I must admit, however, that the archetypal valley girl is definitely white (although the actual residents of the San Fernando Valley are often not). I was afraid they were equating "white" with "good."

Conversely, the girls seemed to feel that black behavior -- particularly the behavior of "project women" -- was "bad." I was troubled by this. Why had the girls tacitly accepted this idea? Although I'm from a mixed cultural background, I identify as white. As a white woman, was there anything I could do to improve their perception of black people? Or is it presumptuous to try to change the racial self-image of another group? I want to help, but I'm sometimes unsure how to do it. And some days, it's all I can do to keep the girls engaged in the activities, instead of crying or fighting with each other. Middle school is a tough time.

I later mentioned this experience to my (white) boyfriend, and he commented that the situation sounded like "a racial minefield." And I guess it is, but I never think of it that way. I just see the girls, full of vibrance, complexity and humor. How can I make them see that, to quote a cliche, black is beautiful? How can I help them recognize their limitless potential?

Jennifer Weiss is a senior Linguistics and Theatre Arts major from Los Angeles. War On Error appears on Wednesdays.

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