Once again, on October 23, there was a story in the New York Times (“A Diverse City?  In Some Ways, Anything But”) pointing out with shock and dismay that our fair city is not as diverse as many would like to think.  In fact, says the article’s author, Ginia Bellafante, in her “Big City” column, the city ranks third in a recent study among the nation’s most segregated, behind only Detroit and Milwaukee.  The last time I looked, New York’s public schools actually topped the hit parade for segregation in education. 

So OK, clearly Integration (with a capital “I”) didn’t quite work out as planned, neither here nor in most other American cities.  Lord knows some people tried, and some – God bless them – are still trying; but for the most part, integration in both word and deed has disappeared from our collective memory, as if it never happened at all.  A quick look around, or just a check at recent Supreme Court decisions, and you’ll wonder if it wasn’t all just a bad dream. 

Somewhere along the way, though, Diversity (with a capital “D”) was born, and for those who are loathe to be called racist, or anti-this or anti-that, what a wondrous thing it is!  Like a fine soloist, diversity can sound good without any back-up – something to mention in a brochure, list as an HR action point, or even to boast about sweetly as in, “We live in a wonderfully diverse community.”  Sure, skin color usually springs to mind whenever the term comes up, but the fact of the matter is that diversity is wide open to personal and highly creative interpretation.

To define diversity, dictionaries tend to use the word variety, as in “the spice of life,” which is appropriate, given that how diversity is viewed or promoted is really more a function of how much spice a particular group is willing to take.  A similar notion can be applied to the ever-popular “Celebrate Diversity”: How big a party do you want to throw?  Apart from the inclusion of more ethnic and religious holidays on calendars, the appointment of people of color as corporate diversity go-to guys and gals, tedious training videos and a few pot-luck dinners, I can’t say that there’s been much sizzle to the celebration.

I thought I’d do an online search to explore the evolution of diversity as social imperative and when exactly the marriage occurred between it and the word “celebrate.”  Google presented me with a rather lengthy and broad list of possibilities: many were educational in nature, and others provided multicultural support and goods; but then there were also mocking websites brought to us by various white supremacist groups, and surprisingly – well, I suppose for some diversity in itself can be a celebration of sorts – a substantial amount of pornography. 

For me, however, the most intriguing hit was the one that then came up in second place after icelebratediversity.com.  It offered a t-shirt, available in a choice of three lovely colors, with “Celebrate Diversity” printed across the front all right, below remarkably realistic pictures of 18 different types of guns.  Only $19.99!

Now, never in my wildest dreams could I see New York City as being a big market for this particular fashion statement, but somebody is buying them; and between that and the White Power websites, I’m just not feeling the love

“Oh, but we’re so lucky to be living in New York, the most diverse place in the world,” a fellow mom enthused when I told her that I was writing about diversity issues in independent schools like the one attended by both of our daughters.  Indeed, many believe that by living north of the Mason-Dixon line they are somehow immune to or absolved of bigotry, and that because of circumstances that make New York City unique in regularly throwing people of all types and backgrounds together on busy Midtown sidewalks, crowded public transportation, and high-rise elevators, they are themselves celebrating diversity every single day.  Provided everyone stays in their place, of course: It’s all well and fine to talk baseball with the Dominican doormen, share a few laughs with the West Indian or Filipina women who take care of the kids, and be utterly dependent on that lovely brown-skinned secretary with the Spanish accent, but God forbid that someone who looks like them should ever be a colleague, friend, or guest in their home.   Far too many adults have grown up with the idea that it isn’t or couldn’t be done.  “After all,” I’ve heard people say, “What on earth would we have to talk about?”

I’ll be the first person to tell you that I enjoy a good party, whether it’s a few friends around a dinner table or a blow-out dance-a-thon.  And while food, music, drinks and even decorations are important, I think it’s the people that really make the party.  If they all look the same, it can be pretty boring.  If they all live in the same neighborhood and are involved in the same activities, professional or otherwise, after a while, you just run out of things to say.  To have a really good celebration, I’d say it’s all in the guest list and who is doing the inviting.

A lot of us are still waiting for the fun to begin.