In his race and politics class, professor Kerry Haynie might spark a conversation by asking students to describe their first encounter with a person of another race.
Or he might talk about his own brushes with prejudice, such as the time when a white family made disparaging remarks about blacks in general, and about his brother and him in particular, during a family outing in Charlotte in the 1960s.
Haynie so values frank discussions about race that a good portion of a student's grade is based on class participation.
"They can say whatever they want to say. I don't care what it is, as long as it's civil and not attacking an individual," says Haynie, who joined the Duke political science faculty this fall. "Attitudes, ideas, beliefs about race are the most difficult to talk about, but they also produce the most constructive discussions."
Beyond the gut-level conversations, Haynie takes an analytical approach to his work. His research includes a comprehensive study of the North Carolina state legislature to determine whether state lawmakers consider African-American legislators as effective as their white counterparts. The results, based on 1983 to 1991 ratings, showed that being a black legislator meant, on average, scoring nearly six points lower than other legislators on an effectiveness assessment.
"I find this interesting," Haynie said. "What that means potentially is that the issues that black legislators are concerned about may not get the necessary attention and debate in the future."
Right now, he is working on two book projects. One book will examine whether black legislators are excluded from the most powerful legislative coalitions and, if so, how that might affect their constituents.
"The way the game is played in the legislature is to have coalitions and to be able to interact and trade off with colleagues," he said. "So it's really an issue of inclusion or exclusion from these coalitions, and whether an institution can organize in such a way that it excludes certain kinds of interests from getting fully integrated into the institution."
The second book looks at campaign finance issues and how proposed fund-raising limits would impact minority candidates.
"One argument for this type of reform, as it regards blacks and women, is if you lowered the amount of money in politics, you equal the playing field and that benefits a certain type of candidate who doesn't have the access to the kinds of money that others have," he said.
"I'm not sure that is correct. You could make an argument that African-American candidates, for example, need more money (than their opponents) to win."
Haynie's interest in politics began while growing up in the small North Carolina town of Kannapolis. Although none of his family members held elected office, many were regarded as community leaders. People who needed to solve a problem frequently sought help at his family's house.
"My family was very active politically, especially the women," Haynie recalls. "My grandmother and her sisters ran their churches and were very active in local politics."
His Aunt Corrine made sure their community got its share of government funding for such things as sewage facility upgrades and housing improvements.
"And I had a great uncle who was known as the mayor of my neighborhood in Kannapolis. Everyone in town knew him, and whenever you needed something done, he'd get it done."
Haynie attended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and quickly became intrigued by international security issues. He continued on this path while earning a master's in international affairs at the University of Pittsburgh. When he returned to Chapel Hill to pursue his Ph.D., he enrolled in an American politics class and quickly detected a paucity of scholarly research about black community politics, the type he had witnessed growing up in Kannapolis.
By the time he received his Ph.D. in 1994, Haynie's academic interests were focused squarely on American race, politics and policy, and he landed a teaching job at the University of Pennsylvania. Two years later, he was hired away by Rutgers University. Seven years after that, Duke came calling.
"Being able to work in a top 10 political science department that's part of an excellent university was very attractive," Haynie said. "Also, there is a grouping of senior faculty members in my area -- not only in the political science department, but around the university -- who are focusing on public policy and race.
"For example, there's Karla Holloway, Houston Baker in English, Paula McClain in my department. The opportunity to do interdisciplinary kinds of work with them was quite attractive."
Department chairman Mike Munger is glad to have Haynie on board.
"Duke is always on the lookout for top-flight African-American faculty, but Kerry was a special catch," Munger said. "His specialty lies at the boundary of the 'Race and Politics' and 'State Government' fields in political science. We haven't had nearly enough faculty, or courses, in state politics, and Kerry fills a big need.
"Further, he increases our strength in one of the areas we have targeted for growth and improvement, and that is the race and politics program, led by another recent hire, Paula McClain."
Haynie is pleased to be back in his native state, although he worries that he and his wife and their 1-year-old daughter are expected to be present at all family functions. "Before, I had the excuse of being in New Jersey and, before that, Pennsylvania. Southern black families always have functions that involve food, and you are expected to be there."
He does have one other major concern - being branded a traitor.
"Not only do I have two UNC degrees, but as an undergraduate I lived with two basketball players -- Buzz Peterson and Brad Daugherty. I haven't told them yet where I'm working."
He laughs, and adds, "I can't believe I'm here sometimes. I get the hives walking around."