How One Comes to Know

How One Comes to Know

I have been wondering if it is important how one comes to know things, particularly about race and racism. I know somebody who knows about the death of Emmet Till, but only because he's very against abortion and in his readings on abortion Emmett Till's death was used as an analogy to what needs to happen in order for the ugliness of abortion to be exposed, as the ugliness of violent racism was exposed at Till's funeral. Now, I don't have a problem with the analogy, but it seems that the story of Emmett Till is not seeping any deeper than as a argument against abortion, and that seems wrong to me. And so, it makes me wonder, if one comes to know about horrible acts, but they never pierce the psyche, never propel a deeper thinking on the issue, never become something else to explore; if the knowledge is simply there as a footnote to something that is seens as a "bigger", "realer," or "more important," issue, then is that real knowledge?

It it is hard for me to understand white people's lack of desire to know, really know, why things are the way they are in this country. Why there's overrepresentation of blacks in prisons and poverty, why white people are the most segregated people in the country. Saying, "I didn't live around any people of color so I didn't experience racism," is probably one of the saddest things I've ever heard, as the ability for whites to live in areas where there are no people of color is a direct effect and consequence of racism.

Is ignorance really an excuse? But even more than that, is a tiny bit of knowledge fed as a footnote to a larger issue going to make any difference to an ignorant person? Should it?

My first blog

I actually just erased a blog that would have been very thought provoking, as Felicia's and Amaryah's blogs are but I figured we can save that for later. I want to blog about something comical, funny, exciting, etc. I think my first blog won't be about anything like that........And I was about to write something else, but that too got erased because it was getting to serious. I want my first blog to be light hearted and simple.

Ok I have a story to tell. I think its funny, but we will see how it turns out on a blog.

Ok so me and a bunch of my friends went to the beach. We didn't go anywhere spectacular, just a beach in Chicago. We get there after a long train ride and about a 2 mile walk. We sat for a while and hung out. At one point we decided to play volleyball, which is extremely difficult in the sand.

Ok here is where the story actually begins. Guys picture seeing a very attractive woman lying on her stomach. Picture walking closer and realiing that this woman is topless, tanning bareback. Sounds cool right. Well this is the exact picture I saw, but as I got even closer I realized that this woman was not a woman but a man.

You can imagine how sick I felt. But when it was all said and done you know it was a good laugh. Got nothing else to say. Next blog coming soon.

Bishop Jakes Hits Home

Bishop Jakes has a blog up on CNN, and its really quite excellent. An excerpt:

I have twin boys who are almost 30 years old now. But when they were very young, I was sitting with both of them in the predominantly white environment of my home in West Virginia talking about things fathers discuss with their sons. I shared with one of my sons, that when I was his age my skin tone was very much like his, very light. In a matter of fact way, I mentioned that as I got older, my skin darkened and changed to become much more like his brother’s skin, which was darker.

My son, whose skin tone was lighter, began to cry profusely. I was befuddled by his reaction, but when your 7-year-old is crying without a reason and you love him, you investigate it immediately! So I asked him why he was crying. He blurted out, “I don’t want to get blacker, Daddy!” He looked at me in total anguish and said something that left me astounded. He said, “Because if you are black they hate you more.” He cried so hard that I took him in my arms so that he couldn’t see that I too was shedding a tear or two, myself. I was hurt for both of my sons, and I was hurt with them.

Fourth of July Reflection

Each fourth of July I think about different things. When I was younger, the holiday meant little beyond seeing some sweet fireworks. As I grow older ( and wiser) I think about more and more things dealing with the holiday.

This holiday commemorates our freedom from England but each year I always think about what it means to other people. To the slaves, the fourth was just another day that pointed out the obvious hyprocrisy of white Americans. To Native Americans (or American Indians) it meant little since their freedom and many lives were lost for the white man's freedom. Even later, the fourth meant little to a segregated America.

What about today? Things are better, of course. But I still think many Americans don't enjoy freedom for various reasons, mainly the lack of opportunities. I find it absoutly frustrating when people are still tied to their jobs to make ends meet. Are we lacking true freedom because of our captialistic society? I heard a radio commerical asking for you to exercise your freedom by shopping at some store. So that's freedom? Being able to buy whatever I want? Well, ok. Then may seem find to many but personally I'm looking for more than that. Also really how can that be true when we are/were one of the richest countries in the world but we also have the highest number of suicides and other mental illnesses. So maybe we're wrong. Not that I in anyway know what's right, but it's just something I've had on my mind this fourth of july.

Anyone wanna ask why they were there in the first place?

Watching CNN (AC360) 07/01...

The story is told of a Caucasian male, Joe Horn, who some would call a hero. In the fall of 2007, Horn called 911 to report two men burglarizing his neighbor's home. After calling 911 for help and being instructed to stay in the house, Horn proceeded to shoot two (illegal) Hispanic Americans in the back as they were escaping. Surprisingly, a jury of his peers chose not to indict Horn for murder because his actions were protected under Texas (where the crime was committed) law. They call it the "Castle Clause"...

Read this carefully...
A Castle Doctrine... is an American legal concept derived from English Common Law, which designates one's place of residence (or, in some states, any place legally occupied, such as one's car or place of work) as a place in which one enjoys protection from illegal trespassing and violent attack. It then goes on to give a person the legal right to use deadly force to defend that place (his/her "castle"), and/or any other innocent persons legally inside it, from violent attack or an intrusion which may lead to violent attack... (Thanks, Wikipedia!)

How is it possible for the jury NOT to indict him? Unless the jury forgot the fact Mr. Horn's life was not being directly threatened by the burglars. Perhaps the jury did not acknowledge the fact that the burglars were not entering or escaping from Mr. Horn's "castle". Or maybe they neglected to remember that in the entire history of America (dare I say the world) property has never been valued more than human life: when is the last time anyone heard of the death penalty being administered for an act of burglary?

So... Mr. Horn lives freely, and is celebrated as a hero while two lives have been lost...

1.) What kind of country do we live in, wheree someone can be given a license to carry a gun and use it in this manner without consequence? What kind of country do we live in where two mens lives are disregarded and the life of a murderer is celebrated? What if every time someone "felt threatened" they were allowd to interpret the Castle Doctrine however they saw fit? What if everyone carried guns and chose to defend themselves as opposed to trusting in the powers and law forces we have established? The world would be a safer place, right?

2) I'm curious to know if the outcome would have been different had two white men been the burglars? I'm curious to know which races were represented on the jury of Mr. Horn's peers. For some reasons I can't help but smell a little racial injustice here. The news media has made this issue entirely about the castle clause and the right of American citizens to bear arms. But why is no one paying attention to the larger issues?

Why did no one ask why they were breaking-in in the first place? Don't get me wrong... I don't suggest that we defend someone committing a wrong in any situation. However, I do not suggest that we end the discussion by naming one party the "good guy" and the other party the "bad guy". If our fallen brothers were still alive, I'd love to ask then why they were driven to burglary to begin with?

Could it be because in the land of freedom and opportunity, they have been all but prohibited from obtaining citizenship and working legally? Could it be because the same people who yell for illegal immigrants to be deported are the same ones who secretly hire them to work for ridiculous wages? What if we could listen to the voices of our fallen brothers? Anyone want to ask why they were there in the first place? I didn't think so...

So, for now the murderer shall remain the victor and the illegal immigrants, the "bad guys".

April 4th, 1968

In addition to Dr. Tatum's book, I've also been reading April 4, 1968 by Michael Eric Dyson. Its a quite different take on Dr. King as it focuses on the role of death in Dr. Kings life. While I ahve not yet finished, I'm about halfway through, and it seems in the first to focus first on Dr. King's own awareness of death's inescapability and the fact that he would probably die at the hands of someone who hated his work against injustice. Dyson also focuses on what death means to black people and black culture as the mortality of black life. He then discusses the affect Dr. King's death had on America and how it sparked a lot of new thoughts on racism and many people became more sympathetic and open to his position as a great purveyor of justice and equality after his death. However, Dyson also writes on how Dr. King's image has been so watered down that many don't realize the depth and difficulty of the message he shared with countless people.

Mainly, the book has made me think about death, not in a morbid way, but more in way of pondering what I am willing to lay down my life for. What am I really convicted about and what would I be able to give my life striving towards?

A No Win Situation?

One of the areas explored in Dr. Tatum's, “Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria,” is the need for racial solidarity that comes with a conscious effort to establish a peer group of blacks. Although I like to think I come from a diverse background, having lived in New York with mostly white friends, to Miami, having many Hispanic friends, and all the while attending black churches, I feel I have been taught how to move between different racial lines with more assurance and ease than many others I know. While I have had a exposure to a lot of racial issues, I was still raised as a black member of the middle class in a white world even though whites weren't very visible in Miami. I grew up reading mainly white authors, and though my parents tried to intersperse some black children's literature in the mix, it was but a drop of ink in an ocean of whiteness and did some, but not a lot to lessen the effects of whiteness on my psyche. I listened to “white” music in an attempt to counter the stereotypes that black people only like hip hop and r&b. I was prone to make fun of or mimic poorer blacks in an attempt make myself feel superior to those who just didn't work hard enough to escape poverty, who couldn't speak proper English, and who dressed like thugs. But the fact of the matter is, no matter how hard one tries to repress one's connection to the black community, it always comes to the forefront as one continues to live and grow and is confronted with the reality of racism and the inescapable reality of black people's plight in America. While I was always aware of black people's experience in America, of black people's ability to laugh at oblivious whites who just didn't know anything about anyone outside of their whiteness, and black people's sense of community, none of the understanding or awareness was really mine. I had lived a sheltered life in some ways. Being homeschooled, I didn't have to deal with overt racial prejudices or tensions that might have arisen in public schools, I didn't have to deal with teachers treating me differently or lowering their expectations of my intelligence because of my skin color. I didn't have to confront racial realities beyond television documentaries like “Four Little Girls” (a documentary about the 16th street church bombing in Birmingham, Alabama) and “Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry,” (which is an excellent young adult novel, by the way), so while I understood and was aware of what black people had gone through, I wasn't nearly as aware of how that history had anything to do with my life. “If I just work hard, and try to fit in—if I don't bring attention to my blackness, maybe I can get a long with everybody,” was how I thought racial tensions could be healed.

But I didn't realize that ignoring the problem doesn't make the problem go away, and entering college I was confronted with the realities of my different upbringing and knowledge and experience. As much as I wanted to be the same as my white friends, I wasn't. In fact, I was quite different in the sense of what was becoming important to me as I learned more about my identity and what it meant for me to be a black woman. For this reason, I am probably not close with a lot of the people I knew my freshman year, though I still think they are good people. But being a good person is not really enough--I really couldn't build substantive friendships on lies founded in ignorance and repression. I had to remove myself from relationships that had walls in place to restrain my blackness. Those who I couldn't converse honestly and openly about race with wouldn't really be able to know me or understand me, and so the intimacy that I thought was there disappeared. While I have been blessed with several friendships with white people where we talk about race, I still am becoming more jaded towards the ability of most white people to take responsibility to actually become self-educating allies. I don't desire for every white person to make race and combating racism their main issue, there are many injustices and inequalities that we have to combat—but I do think race is a central part in understanding key issues in other injustices. And so I desire for white people to come to an awareness of their identity as white people that allows them to move beyond the blindness and guilt of white privilege into community with people of color who are fighting against racism and other injustices.
And so, while it seems that it is a no win situation for me at times, either having to repress who I am or separate myself from harmful relationships, Having faith in humanity and God, hope for the future, for education and resilient people fighting alongside each other, and love for all people, but too for white people that causes me to want to see them exposed to the truth and be converted by it.

Remembering a painful past

It’s very frustrating to read this book. I have personal experience in being rejected by black peers simply because I did well in school and was friends with white people. The neighborhood I live in is predominantly white, but my hometown does have a black section. I still feel disconnected from most black students at the high school. I’m not the biggest fan of hip-hop and the culture behind it. That’s just not me. Also the fact that I talked “white” didn’t help me relate to my black peers. This disconnect caused a great isolation from both the white and black community. I have often been called white and have never had the courage to speak up against it. Reading this book makes me revisit those times in my life and this book has given me the courage to speak up. I recently started discussing the issues of race with some of my white friends and it was refreshing as well as frustrating. One of my best friends, a girl I’ve known since third grade couldn’t seem to understand why I was upset about someone calling me white. She claimed that they were just stereotypes and that they are there for a reason. Of course, stereotypes do have some degree of truth in them, but the fact that people who personally know a black person, such as myself and place me in the white category angers me because they should know that all black people aren’t what the media says we are. Although much anger has come out of reading this book, I will venture to say that it is important and necessary to talk about race and hopefully the anger will subside and courage will push all of us to talk about race with our family and our friends.

But I Don't Think of You As Black...

One of the blogs I frequent, Resist Racism, has an excellent post up today entitled, "The Other Side," and has to do with black people and self esteem. One particularly interesting paragraph said:

Black people with self-esteem are often told by unenlightened Whites–even some individuals who are liberal and friendly–that we are not “really Black.” In telling us this, these Whites do not see themselves as expressing racism; they feel they are offering us a special place. Yet there is, in these words, an attempt to seduce us away from loving Blackness, to undermine the very self-esteem that, by its existence, eliminates White supremacist domination.

This paragraph reminded me of the time one of my friends and I were discussing my being on BSA's minority panel and she said, "I don't think of you as a minority, you're just my friend." I thought that was quite a revealing statement. Maybe a few years ago, I would've been pleased to hear one of my white friends say that, but now it simply causes me to cringe. Mostly because I've been developing a stronger sense of self-esteem in regards to my blackness and it makes me more frustrated than anything that my being confident in being black is so inconsistent with the stereotypes of blackness that I'm not really seen as black.

While I don't think my friend, or many of the people who say these, "But I don't think of you as black," kind of statements are trying to offend, I don't think they're taking into account the unique experience that is had by minorities in a predominately white environment. Perhaps the dialogue started by Dr. Tatum's book will help to further expose and reveal differences that all too often seem to be ignored by whites, and build more trust on both sides.

Finger-Pointing & Name Calling: CUT IT OUT!

An increasing number of ideas are flooding my brain as it pertains not only to my race and my understanding of what it means to be black, but as it pertains to the status of race relations in our nation and in our world.  In high school, when we covered all three pages of the African American influence in American History we came across the term "reverse racism" and one of my peers jokingly said, "Oh, Brandon! That's you!"  I chuckled at the comment and said in return, "As long as you acknowledge that my racism is a reflection of your racism towards me, we're fine!"  However, as I look back at that exchange between my peer and I, I am not quite sure it was that much of a joking matter.

What is racism?  Well, as defined by Beverly D. Tatum, it is a system (hence the "ism"): a system of advantage solely based on race.  In the past it has been incredibly easy for me to define a person's actions or attitudes as "racist," but I believe that stems from the common mistake of using the terms "prejudice" and "racist" interchangeably.  I could be taking this too far, but I believe I am willing to say that by Tatum's definition, only white individuals can thrive off of the system of racism in America.  Can a person of color be prejudice?  Can a person of color have an "adverse opinion or leaning formed without just grounds or before sufficient knowledge" (Webster), sure!  Persons of color and whites alike can engage in stereotypical judgements or even have a sense of dislike for the other, but only the "majority" (which I think is a problematic term in itself) can truly reap the benefits of racism.  Understand? Well, indulge me a little further...

I had a discussion with a friend (who happened to be a White American) about the idea of racism in America, and the person gave me a response I should have expected.  "Well, I'm not racist! It's not my fault so I shouldn't be penalized for what people did a long time ago..." Although some members of the white community may say that they are in no way racist, and quickly name all three of their close black friends, we (and I say we because it's not "their" problem, it is OUR problem) must still acknowledge that White Americans do reap great benefits of living in a country founded on racist principles.

Whiteness has become the standard by which we live in America, and that makes it incredibly difficult to live a "non-white" life.  Tatum categorizes white persons in the following manner: active bigots, passive bigots, and active anti-racists.  I believe that in the world in which we not live it is quite necessary that more and more individuals become active anti-racists: and for the persons of color shouting "amen" I must say that this applies to us too.  The days of sitting around complaining about the problem and playing the blame game are over! As long as we live in a world that accepts whiteness as the standard there will be work to do, and we have years and years of incorrect thinking to deconstruct.

Looking at racism as a systematic problem helps us to better name the demon with which we are struggling.  For much of my life, racism has been a demon that has been named among individuals and specific organizations. However, acknowledging racism as a system helps us get past some of the finger-pointing and name-calling that prevents us from really accomplishing anything together (Disclaimer: Yes, I do still believe that finger pointing and name calling may be necessary in some extreme cases).  One of the things I have taken for granted in years past is my own history!  My knowledge of my people's history has been limited to the big names that actually make the history books.  

We live in a society where it is incredibly difficult to find positive reflections of ourselves (persons of color) within the curriculum we are taught and the programming that we are given.  My primary and secondary educators taught me from text books that did not spend that much time with the history of black people in America.  I am a product of a society that seems to want to do everything in its power to forget the injustices of the past and forever erase the consequences that past has on our present.  However, ignorance is no longer an excuse!  Just as white persons must be actively anti-racist, persons of color must do that same and actively educate ourselves and others concerning our past and our present.  Far away are the days where we can allow fear and resentment to fuel our lives and interactions with one another.  We must re-learn what it means to be human while embracing our pasts, living in the present, and hoping for a better future.

Those that do not know their pasts are bound to repeat it.  Look around folks!  Can you see the cycle repeating itself?