The subject of race does not often come up in casual conversation; in fact, it’s avoided. Admittedly, it’s not an easy conversation to have in any setting. But Amelia Paterno, a senior majoring in psychology with a minor in sociology at Penn State Altoona, is working on a research project to delve into those difficult conversations.
“It’s a fascinating project,” she says. Her choice for research location is her home, “a dynamic and multifaceted community” in Western Pennsylvania. When approaching potential interviewees, “I tell them I’m trying to figure out what it means to live in a small town and how that impacts how they experience the world, including in terms of race and ethnicity. I started with wanting to interview people with Confederate flags and ask them what that meant to them.”
Paterno’s general questions begin with “When was the first time you noticed a difference [among people]?” Inevitably, some talk about their ethnic backgrounds and celebrating their heritage at local festivals. At this point, she gets more direct, asking interviewees questions like “What about being white?” The directness is intentional: “to avoid misunderstandings, I have to ask questions more explicitly.” She has learned to be flexible because “none of my interviews go the same way.” However, that doesn’t mean they are unpleasant, she says. “Ninety percent of them are a conversation.”
In the course of her research, Paterno has learned some things about asking people “difficult” questions and that familiarity matters. “For the first couple people I interviewed I didn’t say, ‘This might be uncomfortable,’ and then afterward they told me a couple of questions had made them uncomfortable. So now I make more of a point to tell them they don’t have to answer. If they answer my question directly or not it’s still data.”
Because Paterno grew up in the area, most of her interviewees “have been people that I know. Most of them have told me they identify as Democrat. Those people offer opinions easily. Most of it is positive feedback that they never thought about the things that I asked them.” But “some get visibly uncomfortable when I ask them questions that prompt introspection of their identity.”
Beyond “uncomfortable” is “unwilling.” While Paterno is open to interviewing anyone, not everyone feels the same way. For example, “those who have Confederate flags, Trump signs, Aryan Brotherhood flags—I want to talk to these people but they don’t want to talk to me.”
People bring up more than just race in discussions with Paterno. She spoke to a man “who very much feels like, as a white Catholic man, he has a target on his back.” Because of that, he is encouraging his children to move elsewhere “and not just experience this small town.”
Then, of course, there’s the political side. “How do you love someone who has different politics from you?,” she asks. “A lot of them are very much ‘we don’t talk about politics’ or ‘we’re butting heads.’” She says she “was really expecting a lot of resistance to questions like ‘How did you manage to raise 5–6–7 kids who all ended up being Republican?’ Or ‘if you’re the only “true Democrat” what is your husband? And children? And your mother?’”
In the months Paterno has been asking these questions, her enthusiasm for the project has not waned a bit. “I really like qualitative data—I want to interview people.” And she may get that opportunity: “I just got approval to open my project to expand the [survey] area. Part of me wants to go somewhere else. I could even take this project with me to grad school. That would be really cool—to compare places.” Her final goal is “to teach at a university about whiteness and race. I would also love to do something about how to have uncomfortable conversations.” After all, “there’s a benefit to being uncomfortable. I like it, it makes me question things and learn.”
—Therese Boyd, ’79