An alternate approach to dealing with racism in the form of a rant

Although I've been trying not to be pulled in, some of the--ahem--let's say, conversations about the Confederate flag and its related language, the South, and naming rights have pulled me in. There are just too many personal ties. People I used to know keep slopping sugar about how much they just love all their friends of every color, but they'll "just have to agree to disagree." There's all this talk about how none of this was a problem for years and years and there's only been unity. That is a completely illogical conclusion unless you've refused to listen for the last several decades. And I know that's not true for these people 'cause they've heard ME explaining things to them.

People need something to cling to, so, okay. Maybe people need to interpret the Confederacy "heritage" or whatever (of course, I'm a lifelong Southerner, too, but whatevs).

But here's what I don't get: Why the dismissal of people who say that these things are painful? Do they not believe it? Or do they just not care? "Suck it, people of color!"

And can they find some way in which their Christian ethics (plastered all over FB pages and such) jibe with their position?

Most of all, what I don't get is that you call me your friend. You say you care about me. You say you love me with the love of Christ. It's one thing to say that you think "outside agitators" are "stirring things up" but it's a whole other thing to say that a request for change is "stupid" and "oversensitive". But let's say that's true. I'm just hyperemotional (me, your friend, not the "outsiders")--how much does it cost you to just give a little on this? Does it cost less than hurting your friend? who you love?

I realize that I've switched to second person here. That's how crazy this making me. So I've decided that neither logic nor pathos is going to work. I give up. Have your racist idols. They mean more to you than relationships and compassion and "love". I give up. I know you're going to argue that they're not racist and neither are you. That's not logical, but enjoy it anyway. I tried to remember that my silence wouldn't protect me, but losing my righteous mind and having a stroke is more than I'm willing to give you. Never-freaking-mind.  That is my official position.

So, instead, I'm reading Yo Is This Racist?  It's much better than working my way into a stroke.

Morning After Reflections

 I always knew that Bill Clinton was problematic. With his welfare reform and Three Strikes law, I could hardly say he was the best friend a black girl could have. But I still loved him. In spite of his philandering ways (which I've come to expect of powerful men anyway), I still loved him.  He was an intelligent, down-to-earth Southern man who could play a mean saxophone. He chose to love a woman who was just as intelligent and ambitious as he was.  And he had so much swagger. How could I not love him?

Then in 2008, the Democratic Primary happened, and I fell out of love.  The way they ran Hilary's campaign--with the not-so-veiled racist attacks on Obama's character among other actions--was disappointing and heartbreaking. I know Bill was fighting for that intelligent and ambitious woman he chose, and that fact deserves a measure of respect, but they could've fought differently.  And even after Obama was chosen and won, clearly, there was still bad blood that reared up in Bill's discourse from time to time which reminded me of my initial heartbreak.

But last night at the Democratic National Convention. . . . It was like when you run into an old boyfriend on the street and he's looking really good and he says he's missed you. For the life of you, you can't remember why y'all had to break up in the first place.  So you accept his invitation for drinks and after.  And the next morning, you know you won't get back together, but it was really good to see him again.

Bill's speech was amazing!  It was substantive, it was clear, it was witty, it was forceful where it needed to be.  It laid it out plain for regular folk.  He did the darned thang!

Last night wasn't enough to make me fall back in love, but it sure was good to see him again.

Not suspicious

I wanted to share this perspective from NPR on the horrendous Trayvon Martin killing. It is one of many salient, reflective, and sorrowful commentaries by a wonderful writer.


http://www.npr.org/2012/03/20/149003647/trayvon-martin-the-lingering-memories-of-dead-boys

And because it apparently needs to be said: My son is beautiful and funny and bright and brown. And NOT SUSPICIOUS.

Monkey See, Monkey Do?

So, a few months ago, I read this really smart post on Cocoamamas about a teacher who read Caps for Sale to her class and had the students pretend to be monkeys. The blogger/mother had a big problem with it and said so. At the time, I pondered the situation and thought that I would probably say something to the teacher, too. After all, she probably didn't even know that it might be problematic for black children to act like a monkey. Strike that. She probably didn't consider it. Know it she should, especially in this day of Tea Parties and Presidential ape pictures. One of the commenters asked if the teacher should also prevent overweight children from acting like elephants or hippos. Um, yes. Teaching children shouldn't make you as naive as one. Reading her post got my pressure up a little. I'd have to say something to this teacher, I thought.

And then I visit our new classroom and guess which "mascot" the teacher has chosen for her class this year? No, seriously. Monkeys. Clearly, she was doing an alliteration thing with her name, which begins with an M. Still, I just stared at the surplus of monkeys hanging around (ha!) and shook my head. Am I going to have be the belligerent black mama right off the bat? Is that what the teacher is going to think if I say something? Do I say something to my child to offset this? I don't know, and The Hubby thinks that this is not a battle worth fighting. That we'll have others and should cool it until they arise. But then I think, if I were the teacher and choose the black panthers as my classroom theme, calling the students black panthers, would a white parent bring it to my attention?

I've decided not to make it a big issue right now. I mean, I can't very well demand that this woman take down all her lovely apes after she spent who knows how much time preparing her classroom. Wait--can I? No, no, I can't. But I will bring it up during the parent/teacher conference or some other one-on-one. I hope this isn't the beginning of something crazy.

Some Things Off My Chest (Not hair!)

I'm going to have to bullet point this, since I'm supposed to be grading, but man, I'm going to implode if I don't rant. So here goes:

• I'm watching the documentary about the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire. I'm horrified. It highlights two important truths: the lives of women were clearly expendable (evidenced by the acquittal of the owners) and anybody who thinks that we should just rely on capitalism to protect the interest of anyone except business owners clearly thinks that it wasn't so bad to be trapped on the 9th floor of a building where workers were denied union protections and stuffed into overcrowded rooms with no sprinklers and few exits.



• That brings me to The Donald. I can hardly breathe because his EGO is taking up all the air. Seriously, dude? Let's start with "the blacks." As I might have mentioned before, I know lots of black folk. Perhaps with the exception of the people on Trump's show, I can't think of any who think he's great. Especially after that bassackward comment. News flash: people who use the phrase "the blacks" are no friends of the Negroes. And as for your "thoughts" on my President: I spit on your "thoughts". That's all I have to say about that. Wait, no. I also call BS on your academic "concerns"--there are enough smart and talented people of color that nobody has to pick the duds as so-called affirmative action babies. Nevertheless, can black folk finally have the right to be awesomely above average or perfectly average, just like white folk? Seriously. The people who are placing him at the top of polls must be the same people who are obsessed with the royal wedding. (Thanks GEW for giving me a nudge!--I'd love to hear what you think I'd say!)



• Okay, fine. Kate Middleton's dress was gorgeous. She looked like a full grown woman in love. A wedding gets me every time!

Okay. Now maybe I don't have to take this out on these research papers.

Help Me!

I'm trying, again, to read The Help. I started it a while ago, then put it down because it was getting on my nerves. I've picked it up again, but I'm struggling. Seriously. I know I should be keeping up with what's happening in the world of contemporary literature. Maybe I will have occasion to teach this book at some point in my life. But I'm struggling. Seriously. The first problem is the way dialogue is presented. Despite the "pitch perfect voices" promised by the book jacket, I keep wondering if this writer has ever actually talked to anyone in the actual Southern region. Of America. More than that, have any of those people been black? I mean, I've met and talked to a few (!) black folk in my life. I've listened to myself speak. I've talked to my grandparents. They've been black their whole lives. None of those people use the be verb the way it's written here. It's random and weird. And, while many people--all people--in the South run their words together, nobody I know says, "I'm on" when they mean "I'm going to." You know what it sounds like in my ear? "I'mma" or I'm gon" or I'm gonna" but never "I'm on." I have to translate for myself every time I read it. This dialogue issue is what made me put the book down in the first place. But now I have another problem. A white character is relaying her observations of the maid's home. She describes modest decor, then notices that the only picture there is of some white child who used to be in the care of the domestic. Really? Again, I have to check this against my own observations. As a very young child, I was cared for by an older woman who had been a domestic. In fact, I think she still worked for the family on occasion during that time. I was in her house nearly every day. You know how many pictures I saw of herself, her husband, family members, church friends, and, heck, pictures of me?! Lots. You know how many I saw of the family she worked for? None. And she's not the only woman I know who worked as a domestic at some point in her life, but the story is the same. They didn't come home with somebody else's children on their minds. You know why? Because she was not in love with those people. They were not her family. I mean, how many pictures of your boss do you have in your house? It seems to me that this book is going in the direction of big ole, wide-hipped mammies (which is how nearly every black woman is described) who just love them some rosy-cheeked white chillun mo' than life itself, and just hope they'll be lucky enough to get hooked up to some good white folk. My eyebrow is raised. I remember reading To Kill a Mockingbird when I was in elementary school and just falling in love with the language and characters. Scout was such a spitfire, and I liked to imagine myself that way. I immediately recognized Calpurnia, especially in the scene when Scout goes to church with her. I could practically place myself right in that scene. But in this novel, I don't know who these people are. Perhaps the author does, since she's being sued. I didn't grow up in the 1950s, but things move slowly down here, so it hasn't changed so much that I don't even recognize the people. Sheesh! I pride myself on being Southern, but this book is making me itch. *I'm not sure why my paragraph breaks won't show up, but I haven't been able to fix it. Sorry!

Don't Mess With the Hair

There seems to be a lot going on with Black women's hair this week.

First, there is Justin Bieber and his lack of education about indiscriminate touching. He reaches out to touch Esperanza Spaulding's hair during an interview with her. This is a bad move. As I am continuing my own hair evolution (I'm rocking kinky twists now) I can attest that most Black women I know--and actually, some Latina women I know as well--do not appreciate when white people, especially men, touch our hair. That goes double when they don't even ask. It feels like petting. A dog. I often wonder why the thought even arises. Is it because my hair's just so "weird" or what? What will touching it tell you?

Then there was Iyanla Vanzant's return to "The Oprah Winfrey Show" after her abrupt departure 11 years ago. One of the most intriguing revelations to me was that Barbara Walter's folks immediately demanded a change to Iylana's ethnic hair styles (and her clothes) when they produced Iyanla's show. "It's too harsh for TV" they told her. Of course, it had not been too harsh for the months and months when Iyanla was turning into a star on Oprah's show. So she let them straighten it in order to curl it. Even Iyanla admitted that this was a foolish move.

Then there's this weirdness about Beyonce Knowles, who is being accused again of lightening up. I can't attest to its validity, but it's disturbing.

I'm not sure I even have a comment about all of this, but I think it's all worth a second thought.

Keeping It Real

I started this post to briefly comment on the tone of political rhetoric in light of the Arizona shootings, but I was watching The View the other day, and as usual, they were saying things (or omitting things) that got on my nerves, so I'm going to discuss them both.

First, Sherri told Elisabeth that every situation is not all black and white and Whoopi made the joke that it is at their table. Then Barbara said not to her because she doesn't see color; that was the way she was raised. I know she thinks that is good, but to me, it is not. It is, at best, a cop out and at worst, racist. As a cop out, it doesn't require you to make any distinctions among people when people are filled with distinctions and nuance. It's like when schools have zero tolerance policies and they don't have to think through the differences in a student bringing a plastic knife to school and a machete.

It can be racist in that it allows one to assume everyone is like them, that they want to be like them. (Because, if we're honest, we relate to people from our own frame of reference first and foremost.) It denies their culture, their history, and their experience.

I can't speak for every racial and ethnic minority or every black person, for that matter, but I want you to see me as black. I am a black woman and I am proud of it; I love being black. Being a black woman affects the way I experience the world. I don't see anything wrong with it and I don't see anything wrong with people recognizing my race. It becomes problematic when you think (consciously or unconsciously) that being black somehow makes me less than or when you begin to assume certain negative things about me just because of my race (or my gender).

Switching gears:

There's so much discussion now about the tone of political rhetoric and whose to blame for the tragedy in Arizona. It seems the politically correct thing to say is that no one is to blame but the shooter and that there's vitriolic talk on both sides of the political aisle. Maybe, but it seems to me that some people are trying to have their cake and eat it, too. I will use as an example Sarah Palin because the focus has been on her, but she is not the only one who does this. Rappers, actors, etc. do it, too. Whenever something negative happens and fingers are pointed at popular points of influence, everyone is quick to assert their blamelessness. They had no influence over that emotionally or mentally disturbed person. But in times of positivity and financial opportunity, then they are glad to have influence.

Sarah Palin gives speeches, writes books, and garners high ratings on television. She has been called a king maker because of her influence in getting people elected to office. How in the world can she abdicate her influence now? I don't believe she intended for that disturbed man in Arizona to kill people, but she put her words out there and she has to understand that ill people are going to take them how they take them. She cannot claim that her words do not add to the violent tone of political debate now when that's part of how she makes her bread and butter.

Rappers and rockers are similar. They make money influencing people; if their words and music had no power, no one would buy it. So, when that power extends itself in a way that is unfavorable, it is disingenuous for them to say, "I have no power. I have no influence." Because that's not true and they don't really want it to be true or they would be out of business.

Just keep it real, folks.

Listen Up, White People (Pissed Off Edition)

Seriously, the next time you need to blame your own crazy, illegal, or evil behavior on some anonymous stranger, I'm going to need you be more creative. Can we PLEASE make this the last time you decide to make imaginary black people your obvious scapegoat? I mean, really--the criminal is imaginary. You can make them anything you want. Pick something else!

At least this nutso chick decided to use a woman instead of the standard issue black male . . . .

Cheese and crackers! (Okay, now I'm ready to return to my normal self and being friendly with some white folk. Thanks for indulging me.)

Inappropriate

When I picked up The Baby Boy from pre-school today, the teacher told me that he had refused to sing the song the rest of the class was singing. It began, she said, with "10 Little Indians." My eyebrow raised. Then she went on to say that after the familiar verse, they sing this: "oooh waaa, ooooh waaa, shoot the arrow. No more Indian boys and girls." The other eyebrow went up.

Then she told me that The Baby Boy refused to sing. When she asked why, he said that I told him not to sing that. He was right. Both of my children came home from their previous school last year singing that horrible song. They loved it. They clapped their hands when they sang the "shoot" part. I told them this song was about hurting other children, and we didn't want to do that. And what's more, we don't like shooting (although I have to admit that I loved the archery unit in middle school gym!). They were not convinced on either count, but they agreed not to sing it anymore.

I told the teacher this story and she said that she could understand why I wouldn't want them to sing it. In fact, she said, it really wasn't a great song for children to sing. I told her that if they were singing it in class I would just go along with it and he could sing it. But, the teacher said, he was not going to sing it because he following my instructions, so it didn't matter if she told him it was okay. Besides, she said, he knows his numbers so he didn't need to practice.

Now, I also am not in love with the "10 Little Indians" part, either. This is especially true when I consider the version that replaces "Indians" with the N-word. Not cool. But here's the thing: I never know how big of a deal I should make of this kind of thing. A similar issue comes up at Thanksgiving when teachers have children dress like Pilgrims and Indians. I have a classmate who is a sociologist. Her son was in The Babydoll's class last year, and she's much more bold than I am. So she told the teacher that she didn't like the Thanksgiving dressing up because it was culturally insensitive and inaccurate. The teacher looked at her. I wonder how much people outside of academia (and other sitting around thinking about stuff professions) think that objections to this kind of thing is overreaching. Part of me feels like someone (obviously not me) should speak up and start shoving this stuff out of society, even if we've been doing it for years. But part of me also feels like the people who get angry because clerks aren't allowed to say Merry Christmas. I usually just punk out, but I'm trying to figure out where the line is for me.

On a totally unrelated note, on the way into the gym this morning, a guy told me that I was beautiful. He also asked if I was married, how long, and then said that I had been married longer than he. THEN he asked me for my number because he wanted to take me to lunch. As "friends"--okay. On the way out of the gym another guy told me that I had the "most prettiest feet" he's ever seen. Both were very odd compliments, but compliments nevertheless. I'll take it.

It's Complicated

I'm sitting here reading blogs and watching television. In a quite nice moment of total synergy, I was watching the "The Story of Jimmy Rebel" episode of Aaron McGruder's "The Boondocks" while reading the Jack and Jill Politics post on Tim Wise. It references Uncle Ruckus, from the show. It's a lot to take in. I don't even know what to say about it, except that race and politics and human relations are seriously complex business.

This is probably part of the reason why I had to stop researching candidates for the primary elections today . . . .

Arizona, Your Dixie is Showing

Is Arizona losing its mind? I thought Arizona's new law allowing police officers to require papers of people suspected of being illegal immigrants was harsh and wrong and wide open for abuse. I understand that they have a problem with immigration, but I don't think demanding citizens to prove themselves (because let's face it, that's gonna happen), is the way to eradicate the problem. Especially when there are no standard ways to determine who looks illegal, who doesn't belong, except that they look brown and/or poor. But maybe, maybe, I could chalk the law up to what Republicans keep saying is Arizona's desperation surrounding what to do about illegal immigration. Until I read this. So now they can't have ethnic studies classes? Because Chicano students learn that they are oppressed? Forget that there's some truth in it. Now, you're going to oppress them by not allowing them to learn about themselves, but it will be okay because they won't learn that this is a way of oppressing them? Smart. And racist.

My goodness! Every time I talk about racism in my classes here in Biblebelt, my African American students have story after story about their individual experiences with racism (though sadly, none of them recognize the institutional racism that affects them all), but all of their encounters take place in the South which leads them to believe that the South is the hotbed of racist activity and all other areas of the country have evolved. I think Arizona is trying to say, "No, we haven't. Remember we didn't want Dr. King's birthday either. We don't want people of color here."

But Arizona is not alone, as I try to tell my students. Sean Bell's death happened in New York. The Compton Cookout Party happened in California. And now that we have a nation experiencing massive economic hardship and its first Black president, this type of xenophobic, racist vitriol is happening all over the country.

History has shown us that when resources are scarce, the population becomes quite territorial. I think the Holocaust is an extreme example of this fact. The Germans were suffering and they began to believe the Jews were responsible. Enter xenophobia. Here, in America, we have the event of a lack of jobs and lost houses/shelter; combine that with a new face in authority and we have a perfect storm that rallies Tea Partiers to yell "Give us our country back!" And although they like to dress it up and say they are calling for the return of their country from the government, when the government seemed to be in the hands of a White man who said it was okay to spy on their phone conversations, check into their library book selections, hold them for weeks without benefit of counsel and declare war without their permission, they didn't ask for it back. But when a Black man (who, by the way, is half White and was raised by White people) tries to bring about health care for the majority of Americans, then they want it back. I think they are saying we want it back from the minorities. I think Arizona is striking now before the minorities can take over completely.

But the thing is, the minorities aren't taking over. We still have massive oppression to overcome (even though apparently Arizona and others would rather pretend they don't exist). Minorities are still disproportionately incarcerated; percentage-wise, they have the highest infant mortality rate; minorities were the largest percentage of people losing their homes in this housing fiasco; there are only two people of color on the Supreme Court and one is certainly not working for the good of other people of color; and how many minorities are there in the Senate? Plus, I don't know what the fear is (Glenn Beck), but Obama is really not working toward empowering Black people at the expense of Whites or anyone else. Ask, Tavis Smiley. According to him, Obama is pretty much ignoring Black issues.

If America is to live up to its ideals, what's wrong with minorities being on the come-up? Why can't it actually be about the best being the victor, regardless of color or ethnicity? So, there's a job up for grabs. We shouldn't be like, "They are taking our jobs." The jobs shouldn't belong to anyone except the person--male, female, black, white, brown, etc.--who best meets the qualifications. I realize that it becomes complicated because our history has determined that some people will be in a better position to meet the qualifications than others. So, things like Mexican-American studies should be taught because that will help those individuals become better prepared to meet the qualifications. Studies have shown that when students learn about themselves as a people, they do better in school and thus in life. This wouldn't give them a leg up on the competition; it would just help them get on even footing so that the race would be fair.

These are scary times. Yesterday, on one of the Sunday Morning Talk Shows, the host said 70% of the people supported Arizona's new immigration law. (He went on to say that when they polled non-white people, the numbers were turned upside down against the law.) Apparently, we need to be ever vigilante because I don't think Arizona is the exception. If we're not careful, America is going to march itself right back into the Victorian era.

Blind?

So, I saw The Blind Side last weekend. And tonight I watched the 20/20 piece about the back story. It was both moving and eyebrow-raising.

I was glad that the 20/20 story highlighted some key points that the film took liberties with. For instance, the movie basically gave all the credit to the Tuohy family for joining Oher and football; Oher himself was quick to point out the fact that the sport had been part of his life long before the Tuohy family entered. I also thought it was very important that the film chooses to start this story after other people had shown interest and concern for him. Specifically, there was a recreation director (or someone like that) who facilitated his entrance into the prestigious school where he began to flourish. That man took Oher to the school along with his own son. And he was African American.

I point that out for two reasons: 1) I try hard to avoid the Dangerous Minds/Freedom Writers/Losing Isaiah formula that seems to suggest that black people are doomed to their own pathology and tragedy unless able white folk save them; 2) When Debra Roberts asks the Tuohys to comment on the curious coincidence that the large black boy who they take in is steered toward the school where they are former athletes and boosters, it just sort of hangs there. The issue is never fully addressed, although they and Oher dismiss any sordid intentions. They also mostly glide by the issue of race; although they acknowledge the weirdness of a big, homeless black boy living with a wealthy white family in Memphis, their message is that love took over and he just became their son. The daughter's words about being able to count on someone who loves you for no particular reason had a clear ring of sincerity. So my eyebrow raising has less to do with the idea that these people schemed to deliver a football giant to Ole Miss (because it doesn't seem that they were scheming) than it does with the incomplete discussion of these issues.

I think it's also important to note that the Touhys suggest that Oher would have made something of his life anyway. He is a central player in, well, his own story.

I'm just wondering what falls out if we shake this tree a bit. So, what's the story of all of those children who aren't great at sports or who don't stumble upon the right rich family? While these stories make us feel good, doesn't every child deserve a school where someone notices that he's homeless? Where he gets some help even if he's a she (why are these movies never about girls, anyway?) Doesn't every child deserve a life that allows her to fulfill her whole potential? How do we make that happen without simply waiting on rich families?

So, while there are heart-tugging, smiley, sweet moments in this film, I'm also saddened by the children I know who didn't get everything they needed to be whole. And by thoughts of the children I don't know who have holes in their lives. It's complicated.

Oh No You Didn't!

This is an interesting analysis from racialicious.com of those kgb commercials. I had a problem with the portrayal of the black women in the "Weave" commercial mainly because of the neck-rolling, "Oh-no-you-didn't!" attitude coming from the woman. Plus, I saw it after watching that anti-drug commercial in which the boy's guardian (black) angel had a neck-rolling, "Oh-no-you-didn't!" attitude. My goodness, do all black women go through life with attitudes?

Anyway, I hadn't thought this deeply about the commercial, but the writer makes some thought-provoking comments.

A Link for Women's History Month

Here's a brilliant analysis from Melissa Harris-Lacewell about Michelle Obama:

http://princetonprofs.blogspot.com/2009/03/michelle-obamas-arms.html

I wish that I had said all of this myself . . . . Enjoy!

All in the (Democrat) Family?

Although I am aware that there are still racists around, I guess I am very much a member of the post-Civil Rights generation because I am always surprised anew at people's blatant racism.

Reading Jack and Jill Politics, as I love to do, one link on it led to another which led to another which got me to this video, reportedly put out by PUMA.

There are two more which you can watch at your own peril but after watching the first two, I couldn't stand to see the last.

I am in awe of the audacity of someone in 2008 to don blackface and drag. Not only is such behavior generally accepted as insulting and despicable in the public, but it is not even funny. What these people in this clip are doing is not entertaining nor does it make a cogent point--unless their point is that it is okay to degrade Black people. Clearly they know that blackface is racist and yet they do not care.

For people who are supposed to be concerned about the sexist treatment of Hillary Clinton, these people have a myopic view of discrimination. It's absolutely not okay to degrade a White woman, but Black women (and there are several being degraded here) and Black people, and Islamic people, and pretty much people of color, they're fair game? Also, it's okay to belittle the struggles of others, the painful history they've had to endure just to get your point across that you're mad. Is that the message? This hateful behavior just takes me back to the beginning of the Feminist movement and their exclusionary ideologies, claiming rights, ultimately, only for Anglo-Saxon women.

I am also disturbed by the Black women in this video. Perhaps they are strong supporters of Hillary Clinton as they have a right to be. But to be a part of a video that makes fun of Michelle Obama (and other Black people) smacks of self-hatred. If these PUMA actors feel that it is okay to draw upon racist tactics to degrade Michelle Obama, how much love do those women think they have for them?

The video was posted on Youtube in late August of this year. I'm sure, however, as the campaign continues, we will see more examples of racist speak, and with Palin in the race, sexist speak as well (and I mean actual sexist speak not the alleged sexism that's used as a tactic). Rep. Lynn Westmoreland from Georgia has already started the ball rolling. I guess I should just be prepared and stop being so surprised that as much as things change, they still remain the same.

Getting Back to Familiar Waters

Pearl, I feel ya. College often is a huge adjustment and it can be scary. You're being thrown, head first, literally and academically, into this new world of unfamiliar and sometimes unwelcome ideas, of people the likes of whom you've never encountered, and of tremendous and terrifying responsibilities. What are you supposed to do? How are you supposed to keep a handle on who you are while at the same time allow yourself to grow into someone different? (Because why be in college if you're not going to grow?) We have to find that touchstone, that thing that keeps us grounded. That thing that keeps it all in perspective for us. Honestly, I can't recall what that was for me when I went to college for the first time, but when I entered graduate school, it was Sounds of Blackness's song "Familiar Waters."

Picture it: a young Black woman in a predominately White town at a predominately White institution. I couldn't find anyone to do my hair; don't even think about finding some place to buy it! I grew up in a predominately black community and was used to being validated in every regard--my race, my faith, my intellect. Here, I was definitely out of my comfort zone. But as I would drive to school, I would put in my Time for Healing CD by Sounds of Blackness, hit #15, and instantly, I would feel like I was home. Not only did it emotionally transport me back to a space where I was surrounded by family and friends, but it also gave me courage and peace. It helped me feel like even if I didn't quite belong there, somewhere existed a place where I did belong. Even if I wasn't appreciated there, somewhere a place existed where I was appreciated. It reminded me that the work I was doing--studying Black folk--was valid and necessary and good. It encouraged me to hold onto who I was while so many things threatened my sanity. (Certainly this song was played over and over during the dissertation process.)

In truth, whether it's being placed in an environment in which you have to take showers instead of baths or you're a racial minority in a community of strangers who could take you or leave you, life presents us with the challenge of the new and we have to rise to the occasion; we have to find a way to keep our heads even when it seems everyone around us is losing their mind. We have to find that thing that lets us know it will all be okay.

Musings on Obama

Tonight, DH and I were having yet another discussion about Barack Obama and his ability to speak to and for the Black community. He believes that Obama doesn't say enough about the condition of Black America. I explain to him that he can't say too much because he has to get elected and White America will only accept so much blackness from him. He retorts with the declaration that if he can't speak his mind now, we really can't expect much from him when he gets into the White House. It's a conversation we've had many times during this election season, especially after the Rev. Wright & Trinity situation emerged.

I suppose the members of the International People's Democratic Uhuru Movement agree with DH. They, too, are questioning Obama's commitment to Black issues. But I say to them what I say to my husband--this man has to get elected. And despite John McCain's insistence that Obama is bringing up his difference by saying Republicans will claim he is the "Other," most Americans already recognize his difference. For many, this difference is problematic, so if he is to get elected, he can't emphasize his "otherness." These critiques of Obama make me wonder, what do we expect of him and what can we expect of him?

I am on a listserve with my former high school classmates and the discussion often turns to Obama. They are so excited about the possibility of a Black president, as am I. In their posts they speak of how great his presidency will be and what a boon this will be for Black America. I am inclined to agree. But I am cautious, too. We can't expect him to solve all of our problems, as a nation or as a people. One of my students told me last semester that she doesn't want him to win because the country is so messed up now, there's no way he can fix it. Consequently, he and his blackness will be blamed for not fixing it and the path to another Black person winning the office will be blocked. I won't go as far as my student, but I do agree that the task before him will be a daunting one.

Here's what I'm thinking: We should look at Obama as a presidential candidate who happens to be Black rather than as a Black candidate. In this way, we will not hold him to certain expectations. He won't have to speak to every single black issue and we will be more willing to understand that he will have to be a president for everyone. So, we accept that he has to denounce Rev. Wright's ideas on race (however true many of them may be), but we expect him to get to New Orleans as soon as it's safe after Katrina. He has to get elected, but even when he gets there he may not be able to do what we want (or need, in some instances) him to do specifically for Black people. I don't think it's realistic or fair of us to expect these things of him.

Perhaps I'm just making excuses for Obama. I admit that I am still shaping my thoughts on this, so I'm open to other ideas. What do you all think?

Since I'm musing on Obama and the race, I just want to say that I think it is ridiculous for McCain to compare Obama to Paris Hilton and Brittney Spears. Aside from the fact that they are known for being shallow women who are celebrities because they are famous and thus bear no resemblance to Obama, doesn't McCain understand that Americans like celebrity? They voted for Bush because he seemed like someone with whom they could share a beer. So, Obama's celebrity can only work for him.

I have other thoughts, particularly about Obama being posited as the "Other" in this race, but I'll save that for a later time.

What's Wrong with Elisabeth ?!?

Last week on The View, Elisabeth Hasselbeck started crying when the women discussed the use of the word "nigger." Apparently, she was confused as to how the word can be used and who can use it. When Whoopi Goldberg explained (yet again) that as a white person, she cannot acceptably use the word, Elisabeth became upset and started crying, babbling something about everyone living in the same world.

Here is my issue: After Whoopi said that we live in different worlds, who is Elisabeth to dismiss that and say that we live in the same world? I don't presume to speak for all black people as no one person can (for instance, I disagree with Whoopi's assessment that Blacks can use the word acceptably), but I believe most black people would agree that we do live in different worlds in America. They would agree that black people see the world through different eyes than white people. That's not to say that we have no similarities. At our core, regardless of culture or race, we want to be happy, we want the best for our families, we want connection with others. Even beyond the core, we can laugh at some of the same jokes, we can find the same people attractive, we share the same hobbies. But none of these things negates the fact that as a black person in America, one's experiences will be shaped and viewed differently from a white person's because he/she is black in America. And it is the height of arrogance to tell that person that his/her experience is not different! That is like a rich person telling a poor person that his life is no different or a thin person telling a fat person to stop imagining mistreatment. You can't tell another person what his/hers experience is!

The thing is, there cannot be a meeting of the minds or even the possibility that we can live in the same world as Elisabeth insists we already do, until everyone is willing to admit that people have different experiences and we all start to respect those experiences rather than trying to negate them.

If there's one thing black people have learned throughout history, shedding tears won't change things.

Note: Don't forget to check out Black in America tonight on CNN.
http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2008/black.in.america/