Pssst...
You there, come here for a second.
Little closer to the monitor if you don't mind.
That's good.
Wait, back up just a tad. You need a mint.
Ok, I have something to tell you that may shock you. It's a bit of information that I've stumbled across at several locations across the blogosphere. Some of you may have even seen it yourselves and just didn't realize how important it was.
Here we go...
Senator Barack Obama is...
A Politician!
Yep, he is. In fact, that's why his title is Senator. He actually had to win a political campaign in Illinois to get that title so that makes him a politician. Plus, he's running for the most powerful political position in this country, President, so I'm pretty confident that this tidbit is accurate.
I felt it was important that I let you all know this because apparently many people on these here internets think that supporters of Barack Obama are unaware that he is a politician. I guess they think we're so enthralled with his purple lips, stick figure and effete ways that we never took the time to figure out that he was actually elected into his current job.
We Obama supporters can be so dense.
Typically, folks try to educate Obama supporters about his political status when they are criticizing him. You know, like when he caught flak for his FISA vote, or his Father's Day speech, or even his recent prayer that was revealed to the masses. Obama critics find all of these issues direct proof that Obama is a politician no matter how many screaming, swooning people he attracts to his political rallies.
I respect people who criticize Obama. It's good to question folks in power, particularly someone who has been making the promises that Obama has been making. But, I must admit that it can become tiresome to be constantly told how ignorant and naive I am for supporting a politician who is running for President.
Who the hell else runs for President?
Last time I checked, every president ever elected in the history of America was a *gulp* politician. (Well maybe not George Washington. He was just a slave-owning, former traitor.) You don't get to be the figurehead of America if you don't play the political game. I'm not sure why Obama's critics think it's so significant that he's a politician, but I'd love to hear them explain why they assume that the rest of us aren't aware of that fact.
My opinion is that you can be a politician without being just like every other politician. Dennis Kucinich is a politician. But, that cat sees UFOs, wants to impeach President Bush and wouldn't kill an ant at a barbecue. He's a politician, but he's clearly not typical.
I'm not saying that Obama is as unique as Dennis, but Barry does seem to have something special about him. Maybe I'm projecting, but I don't think I am. I think Obama will be a competent, caring president who will help this country recover from the eight years of hell that are the Bush legacy. Along with not being as ignorant as his predecessors about race relations, that's all I expect from Obama.
That's it.
A politician can do that.
Pay Attention
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
They Just Don't Know
Have y'all every had one of those conversations with somebody?
Y'all know what I'm talking about. You're vociferously explaining your version of the truth. Facts are flying off your tongue, you've even brought statistics and visual aides. After hours of discussion it seems like you're finally making headway, it appears that your point-of-view is getting through. And then they hit you with it:
"I don't know. I just don't get it. What's the big deal?"
I've typically had this happen when talking about racism and the impact of America's past on black people's present. These conversations always seem promising when I begin them; the white person I'm talking to says they're really interested in learning and hearing a new point-of-view. Yet, as our discussion goes on, it becomes clear that the person I'm speaking to is woefully ignorant about some basic historical facts, and their impact on the present.
I thought about those types of conversations when I read this essay published by the New York Times. The essay discusses the shameful history of the American Medical Association and how it not only barred black doctors from membership, but actively worked to limit the medical care available to African Americans. Only after intense pressure did the group change some of its practices, and it recently apologized for its past behavior.
(Sidenote: I'm torn about people or organizations apologizing for stuff in the past. In cases like the one with the AMA it sheds light on something I would have never been aware of, so that's a good thing. But, I recently read about Congress considering an apology for slavery and Jim Crow. That seemed fairly stupid. I would prefer if folks saved their apologies and instead admitted the far-reaching effects of both of those periods in American life, and came up with equitable solutions to the problems black people face today because of them.)
When I read about the AMA, it made me think of all the times I've tried to explain to folks just how all-encompassing racism and discrimination once were. Today they are both still massive problems, but they are nothing compared to way things were when our ancestors were trying to live their lives.
It was standard practice to refuse black people care at hospitals simply because they were black. They just let them die in the streets or in their homes. Very few doctors thought this was cruel, in fact, most folks seemed to think this was the natural order of life.
That was a shock to me and I never put anything past a racist. But, if somebody as race-consumed as myself was surprised at how pervasive discrimination was in this society, can you imagine the shock that news would provide to a white person who never really thinks about race? It would be like learning your mom was really a man who adopted you as an infant after having a sex change; your brain would literally shut down.
I think that's what happens to many folks of all races when it comes time to have discussions about race. Because some of the things discussed are so hard to believe and accept, people just shut down their brains and refuse to think. Instead they minimize the problem, or attempt to change the subject to something more palatable. Anything to avoid having to confront the unthinkable.
It's a pretty normal reaction when you think about it. Very few people like having their world view shaken to the core. Most of us have decided which reality we want to live in, and anything that endangers that reality is quickly dismissed. So, we wallow in ignorance.
The only problem is that ignorance affects other people. These revelations about the AMA lend credence to studies that have found that black people often receive substandard healthcare. They provide context for many of the ongoing chronic illnesses that black people struggle with. Like most information about past discrimination, people who take the time to educate themselves about the actions of the AMA would learn about one more way black people were denied opportunity in this country. It would force them to reconsider the idea that America is a true meritocracy.
People may be ignorant, but they don't have to stay that way.
Y'all know what I'm talking about. You're vociferously explaining your version of the truth. Facts are flying off your tongue, you've even brought statistics and visual aides. After hours of discussion it seems like you're finally making headway, it appears that your point-of-view is getting through. And then they hit you with it:
"I don't know. I just don't get it. What's the big deal?"
I've typically had this happen when talking about racism and the impact of America's past on black people's present. These conversations always seem promising when I begin them; the white person I'm talking to says they're really interested in learning and hearing a new point-of-view. Yet, as our discussion goes on, it becomes clear that the person I'm speaking to is woefully ignorant about some basic historical facts, and their impact on the present.
I thought about those types of conversations when I read this essay published by the New York Times. The essay discusses the shameful history of the American Medical Association and how it not only barred black doctors from membership, but actively worked to limit the medical care available to African Americans. Only after intense pressure did the group change some of its practices, and it recently apologized for its past behavior.
(Sidenote: I'm torn about people or organizations apologizing for stuff in the past. In cases like the one with the AMA it sheds light on something I would have never been aware of, so that's a good thing. But, I recently read about Congress considering an apology for slavery and Jim Crow. That seemed fairly stupid. I would prefer if folks saved their apologies and instead admitted the far-reaching effects of both of those periods in American life, and came up with equitable solutions to the problems black people face today because of them.)
When I read about the AMA, it made me think of all the times I've tried to explain to folks just how all-encompassing racism and discrimination once were. Today they are both still massive problems, but they are nothing compared to way things were when our ancestors were trying to live their lives.
It was standard practice to refuse black people care at hospitals simply because they were black. They just let them die in the streets or in their homes. Very few doctors thought this was cruel, in fact, most folks seemed to think this was the natural order of life.
That was a shock to me and I never put anything past a racist. But, if somebody as race-consumed as myself was surprised at how pervasive discrimination was in this society, can you imagine the shock that news would provide to a white person who never really thinks about race? It would be like learning your mom was really a man who adopted you as an infant after having a sex change; your brain would literally shut down.
I think that's what happens to many folks of all races when it comes time to have discussions about race. Because some of the things discussed are so hard to believe and accept, people just shut down their brains and refuse to think. Instead they minimize the problem, or attempt to change the subject to something more palatable. Anything to avoid having to confront the unthinkable.
It's a pretty normal reaction when you think about it. Very few people like having their world view shaken to the core. Most of us have decided which reality we want to live in, and anything that endangers that reality is quickly dismissed. So, we wallow in ignorance.
The only problem is that ignorance affects other people. These revelations about the AMA lend credence to studies that have found that black people often receive substandard healthcare. They provide context for many of the ongoing chronic illnesses that black people struggle with. Like most information about past discrimination, people who take the time to educate themselves about the actions of the AMA would learn about one more way black people were denied opportunity in this country. It would force them to reconsider the idea that America is a true meritocracy.
People may be ignorant, but they don't have to stay that way.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
An Open Letter to "You People."
To the Black people of America
Black People Land
United States
Dear Negroes
I'm not sure exactly if I should use that word, but most of the history books I've read use it at times, and I want this to be factual. My name is Eton Binderhurst IV, and I am formally applying for my "magical white boy" pass.
As you all may know, I have been a friend of black people for years. It began in elementary school when I befriended the only black kid in my Sixth Grade class and invited him to play basketball with us at lunch so he would be welcome. I even explained to my other friends that he was cool to hang out with and not angry or mean at all. I really liked that black kid. He had this cool wavy hair that was great to touch and much nicer than my normal, straight brown hair.
In high school, I played on the football team with several African Americans. I would even offer to tutor some of them in the off season so they could stay eligible, but none of them had rides to the library. Instead, they wanted me to come to their neighborhoods. I didn't have a problem with going to their 'hoods, but my mom would have worried about the car.
In college, I dated a black girl because I wanted everyone to know that color wasn't important. Initially, it didn't seem like our relationships would work, (she got really angry when I told her that Ashley didn't seem like a black name), but together we got past her bitterness towards white people and really connected. She even came home for Christmas one year, but that just turned into another fight when I introduced her as "my friend from school." I explained to her that my grandparents could sometimes be a little racist and that's why I didn't call her my girlfriend, but she got all "angry" and whatnot. Eventually, it was too much work trying to figure out where she was coming from and we just broke up.
Now, I consider myself a stridently colorblind and open-minded white guy with a great love and appreciation for black culture. I've seen Friday more times than any white guy I know, plus I still have a framed picture of Martin Luther King Jr. in my bathroom. Of course I'm supporting Obama, and I really think he will move us past all the racial divisions in this country.
All these factors are why I think I deserve a "magical white boy" pass. See, too often conversations between blacks and whites get derailed because black people take offense at statements that are based in the reality of being white. People claim that want to have open, honest discussions, but as soon as you bring up the need to make Affirmative Action class-oriented, or ask why black people don't like education, the whole exercise turns into another round of whitey bashing.
Now, I know that black people have a special connection to each other, a special bond that allows them think and act in unison at times. How else can you explain their love of gangsta rap and sagging pants? I also know that there are certain white people who can say just about anything to their black friends without repercussions. Consequently, I know that there must be some sort of special pass that allows white people this ability, and I would respectfully request one.
Look, I have tons of black friends. I'm always talking to the black guy, Leroy I think, who sits in the cubicle across from mine at work. And the black lady at the sandwich shop in our building, I forget her name, she and I always talk about the weather and my ties. That doesn't even count my black neighbor that lives a few doors down in my condo building, or Ashley from college who I still talk to on Facebook.
I think I can be the white person that bridges the gap between blacks and whites if I'm allowed to speak honestly and openly without having to worry about being called a racist. Honestly, black people use that word way too much from what I've seen. Many of the white people they consider racist don't seem racist to me at all, and I think this hurts black people when real racism rears its head. Look at the Duke Lacrosse case.
The pass would allow me to use words like "nigger" or phrases like "you people" without having to worry about the racism police locking me up. Seriously, you people really need to stop being so uptight the word nigger when white people say it. Words only have power if you let them have power, plus, black rappers and comedians say nigger all the time. It makes no sense that some people can say nigger and other people can't. No other group does stuff like that.
That's another thing. Black people need a white guy like me breaking the ice with other white people because honestly blacks do a poor job of making white people comfortabtle around them. Have any of you ever had to go to club where you were the only white face and deal with being called "white boy" or have all the girls laugh at you when you want them to dance? That's really not cool.
I also think that with a "magical white boy" pass, I can eliminate some of the damage black leaders like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson have done. These guys make it so hard for black people. There are always just waiting to swoop down on some perceived racism; it's just sickening.
In closing, I appreciate the opportunity to present my application to you all for your consideration. I know that black people have had some problems in the past, but I think this is a great way to start taking personal responsibility and solving them. By granting my request, black people would be showing that they are finally ready to have real discussions about race, and they are willing to listen to what white people feel.
Sincerely
Eton Binderhurst IV
Progressive Liberal
Black People Land
United States
Dear Negroes
I'm not sure exactly if I should use that word, but most of the history books I've read use it at times, and I want this to be factual. My name is Eton Binderhurst IV, and I am formally applying for my "magical white boy" pass.
As you all may know, I have been a friend of black people for years. It began in elementary school when I befriended the only black kid in my Sixth Grade class and invited him to play basketball with us at lunch so he would be welcome. I even explained to my other friends that he was cool to hang out with and not angry or mean at all. I really liked that black kid. He had this cool wavy hair that was great to touch and much nicer than my normal, straight brown hair.
In high school, I played on the football team with several African Americans. I would even offer to tutor some of them in the off season so they could stay eligible, but none of them had rides to the library. Instead, they wanted me to come to their neighborhoods. I didn't have a problem with going to their 'hoods, but my mom would have worried about the car.
In college, I dated a black girl because I wanted everyone to know that color wasn't important. Initially, it didn't seem like our relationships would work, (she got really angry when I told her that Ashley didn't seem like a black name), but together we got past her bitterness towards white people and really connected. She even came home for Christmas one year, but that just turned into another fight when I introduced her as "my friend from school." I explained to her that my grandparents could sometimes be a little racist and that's why I didn't call her my girlfriend, but she got all "angry" and whatnot. Eventually, it was too much work trying to figure out where she was coming from and we just broke up.
Now, I consider myself a stridently colorblind and open-minded white guy with a great love and appreciation for black culture. I've seen Friday more times than any white guy I know, plus I still have a framed picture of Martin Luther King Jr. in my bathroom. Of course I'm supporting Obama, and I really think he will move us past all the racial divisions in this country.
All these factors are why I think I deserve a "magical white boy" pass. See, too often conversations between blacks and whites get derailed because black people take offense at statements that are based in the reality of being white. People claim that want to have open, honest discussions, but as soon as you bring up the need to make Affirmative Action class-oriented, or ask why black people don't like education, the whole exercise turns into another round of whitey bashing.
Now, I know that black people have a special connection to each other, a special bond that allows them think and act in unison at times. How else can you explain their love of gangsta rap and sagging pants? I also know that there are certain white people who can say just about anything to their black friends without repercussions. Consequently, I know that there must be some sort of special pass that allows white people this ability, and I would respectfully request one.
Look, I have tons of black friends. I'm always talking to the black guy, Leroy I think, who sits in the cubicle across from mine at work. And the black lady at the sandwich shop in our building, I forget her name, she and I always talk about the weather and my ties. That doesn't even count my black neighbor that lives a few doors down in my condo building, or Ashley from college who I still talk to on Facebook.
I think I can be the white person that bridges the gap between blacks and whites if I'm allowed to speak honestly and openly without having to worry about being called a racist. Honestly, black people use that word way too much from what I've seen. Many of the white people they consider racist don't seem racist to me at all, and I think this hurts black people when real racism rears its head. Look at the Duke Lacrosse case.
The pass would allow me to use words like "nigger" or phrases like "you people" without having to worry about the racism police locking me up. Seriously, you people really need to stop being so uptight the word nigger when white people say it. Words only have power if you let them have power, plus, black rappers and comedians say nigger all the time. It makes no sense that some people can say nigger and other people can't. No other group does stuff like that.
That's another thing. Black people need a white guy like me breaking the ice with other white people because honestly blacks do a poor job of making white people comfortabtle around them. Have any of you ever had to go to club where you were the only white face and deal with being called "white boy" or have all the girls laugh at you when you want them to dance? That's really not cool.
I also think that with a "magical white boy" pass, I can eliminate some of the damage black leaders like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson have done. These guys make it so hard for black people. There are always just waiting to swoop down on some perceived racism; it's just sickening.
In closing, I appreciate the opportunity to present my application to you all for your consideration. I know that black people have had some problems in the past, but I think this is a great way to start taking personal responsibility and solving them. By granting my request, black people would be showing that they are finally ready to have real discussions about race, and they are willing to listen to what white people feel.
Sincerely
Eton Binderhurst IV
Progressive Liberal
Monday, July 28, 2008
When I Talk To God
We don't talk as frequently as we should.
Nor, do I spend as much time on the conversation as I spend on playing video games on my Playstation 3.
But, when we talk, it means something to me.
I've gone from a rote recital of the prayers handed down to me by my parents, to actually talking to God about what's on my heart. I've cried in prayer, I've laughed too. Revelations have come to me on my knees in my bedroom, or driving in my car.
My conversations with God often sustain me and remind me of what my purpose is.
But, most importantly, my conversations with God are private. Nobody has to know what I reveal to him. Nobody has to know what burdens and evil I carry in my heart. I can let all things spill forth from my mind to his ear, and only he will hear them.
Only him.
I can't imagine what if would be like if the whole world was privy to my prayers. If everyone got to analyze what I discussed with my Creator. It's one of the reasons I can't imagine being Barack Obama.
Even his prayers aren't private anymore.
This goes beyond the bounds of acceptable curiosity or press freedom. Some might argue that Obama stuffed a note into a public wall; what type of privacy did he really expect? If he didn't want people looking into his prayer life, he should confine his prayers to his home and leave the public displays of religion to others.
That mindset is insane.
I don't care how public a figure somebody becomes, the general rules of human decency require us to allow them some private space. I can't think of an area more private than your conversations with God. For those who would characterize Obama's visit to The Wailing Wall as just another publicity stunt, I would direct them to read the private missive he wrote to God again.
"Protect my family and me."
"Forgive me my sins and help me guard against pride and despair."
"Give me the wisdom to do what is right and just."
"Make me an instrument of your will."
That is a sincere prayer. That is a prayer someone prays when they know God. Look at him ask God for protection for his family first, before he wonders about his own safety. Look at how he acknowledges his own sins, while asking God to prevent him from rising too high or falling too low. He asks for wisdom and then tells the Lord, "Your will be done."
In my heart, this seems like a genuine request of God. A message left in a place long designated as holy. It wasn't written to gain brownie points, it wasn't created to make the masses love him more. It was written because Obama had something he needed to say to the Lord.
The people who violated this private moment need to spend some more time talking to God themselves.
Nor, do I spend as much time on the conversation as I spend on playing video games on my Playstation 3.
But, when we talk, it means something to me.
I've gone from a rote recital of the prayers handed down to me by my parents, to actually talking to God about what's on my heart. I've cried in prayer, I've laughed too. Revelations have come to me on my knees in my bedroom, or driving in my car.
My conversations with God often sustain me and remind me of what my purpose is.
But, most importantly, my conversations with God are private. Nobody has to know what I reveal to him. Nobody has to know what burdens and evil I carry in my heart. I can let all things spill forth from my mind to his ear, and only he will hear them.
Only him.
I can't imagine what if would be like if the whole world was privy to my prayers. If everyone got to analyze what I discussed with my Creator. It's one of the reasons I can't imagine being Barack Obama.
Even his prayers aren't private anymore.
This goes beyond the bounds of acceptable curiosity or press freedom. Some might argue that Obama stuffed a note into a public wall; what type of privacy did he really expect? If he didn't want people looking into his prayer life, he should confine his prayers to his home and leave the public displays of religion to others.
That mindset is insane.
I don't care how public a figure somebody becomes, the general rules of human decency require us to allow them some private space. I can't think of an area more private than your conversations with God. For those who would characterize Obama's visit to The Wailing Wall as just another publicity stunt, I would direct them to read the private missive he wrote to God again.
"Protect my family and me."
"Forgive me my sins and help me guard against pride and despair."
"Give me the wisdom to do what is right and just."
"Make me an instrument of your will."
That is a sincere prayer. That is a prayer someone prays when they know God. Look at him ask God for protection for his family first, before he wonders about his own safety. Look at how he acknowledges his own sins, while asking God to prevent him from rising too high or falling too low. He asks for wisdom and then tells the Lord, "Your will be done."
In my heart, this seems like a genuine request of God. A message left in a place long designated as holy. It wasn't written to gain brownie points, it wasn't created to make the masses love him more. It was written because Obama had something he needed to say to the Lord.
The people who violated this private moment need to spend some more time talking to God themselves.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
