It has been a while since I have written in this blog, life sometimes gets in the way. During my absence from writing in this blog, the racial situation in the U.S. has not gotten better, it has gotten worse. My heart, my spirit, is heavy with sadness and worry.
Every day, every day, I awake to news stories of black people being executed by the police. It seems that nearly every week or so, there is a news story of yet another police officer being cleared of any wrongdoing in the execution of a person of color. I use the words execute and execution because the word killing seems too soft, too gentle for what is occurring. It almost seems as if there is a war on people of color in this country. There is this phantom of the scary, big black (insert any race/ethnicity other than white here) man. Shoot first, and then prepare answers for the forthcoming outcry.
A few years ago, I first heard the phrase that our race is seen as a weapon. I had to think about that for a while before I understood fully what the writer of the phrase meant. Most states have laws that allow a private citizen, or police officer, to defend themselves if they feel their life is in danger, ESPECIALLY IF THE SUSPECTED CRIMINAL is armed, armed being the key word here. A fleeing person of color is often deemed armed, the arm being the color of their skin.
I have come to know too many names of young black men whose names I should have never known: Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Freddie Gray, Antwon Rose and most recently, Ahmaud Arbery. This is just the short list. There are so many more and my black mother's heart weeps.
My heart, my spirit was particularly hurt by the murder of Antwon Rose. Strangely, his murder closely paralleled the murder of Louis Hardy in Pittsburgh in 1965 by a white police officer, down to the acquittal of the murdering police officer. It was why I was not surprised by the acquittal of the police officer who murdered Antwon Rose in 2018. In 1965, Louis Hardy was watching some men (including his brother, Richard) shoot craps (an illegal activity) in the East Liberty section of Pittsburgh. The cops arrived and everyone fled, including Louis (called Mickey by his friends). Louis was shot in his back as he fled. Initially, the police officer, Robert MacBeth, claimed he fired two warning shots into the air but that he was running across 'rocky ground" and tripped and his aim was off and that is how Louis Hardy was killed. It was an accident. The officer was not initially charged. Following a public outcry, the officer was charged with murder and then manslaughter. Nearly six months later, Officer MacBeth was acquitted. Officer MacBeth lived to nearly 60 years old. Louis "Mickey" Hardy was 25 years old when he was murdered.
And now, we have the murder of Ahmaud Arbery, a young, unarmed, black man who was simply jogging, by two white men (a father and son) in Georgia. Initially, the two were not charged. Of course not, the father is a close friend of the Georgia governor (and a former police officer). Again, following a public outcry the two men were charged. Ahmaud was murdered in February. His killers were not arrested and charged until May 7th, again following a public outcry.
I want justice for Ahmaud but I fear that is not to be; there are too many cases of justice denied.
People of color cannot disarm themselves when their arm is the color of their skin.
Blessings,
T
Friday, May 8, 2020
Tuesday, September 26, 2017
I'm tired. No, I'm weary.
There is a difference. You can be tired because you only got four hours of sleep last night. You can be tired because you worked a 12-hour shift. Weary implies a sense of being completely used up, used up to the point of being empty. Tiredness has usually to do with the physical, the body. Weariness has to do with the mind and is often accompanied by tiredness of the body.
Today, I'm weary.
I'm weary from trying to explain to white people our journey.
I'm weary from explaining white privilege to white people.
I'm weary attempting to prove and show that racism still exists.
I'm weary of the N-word being flung about as soon as some black person doesn't "follow the rules" of being one of those good Negroes.
I'm weary of continually stating that my people built this country on land stolen from my Native ancestors.
We've tried. You set the rules and we tried our best to follow them. You keep changing the rules and we tried adapting to the new rules.
You said we were stupid and ignorant. We became educated and worked hard.
Despite the free labor we provided at threat of being beat or worse, we worked and worked and worked.
You said we were dirty, nasty and lazy. Yet, you had us as slaves in your kitchen preparing your food and cleaning your homes. Following "emancipation," you allowed us to clean your homes and take care of your children.
We wanted to vote because, as Americans, that was our right and would give us a say in government. You created poll taxes, literacy tests and other obstacles to prevent it and when that didn't work, you resorted to outright violence, murdering and maiming us, leaving our bodies swinging in the wind as a reminder to colored people "who forgot their place."
Following "emancipation," we wanted to own land since we saw that was a way to provide for our families. You created the sharecropping system which was just legalized slavery. We fled North, seeking better paying jobs. It wasn't that we were wanted up North, you just wanted to break the unions. You paid us less and put us in the most dangerous jobs in the steel mills where we were often injured, maimed or killed.
Still, we persevered. Locked out of "mainstream" colleges and universities, we created our own. We attended and sent our children to school and obtained our degrees only to find ourselves, for the most part, locked out of higher-paying positions. When Affirmative Action programs were created, you shouted "unfair," "discriminatory" and called us EEO hires.
It's okay that we can fill your stadiums and arenas. It's okay that we can make you laugh, often by making jokes at our own expense. We can sing and dance for you. You'll even buy our music. But, we can't forget our rightful place. We can't dare to think that were are equal. And, we can't dare forget that we are, and always will be, OTHER.
I'm tired, y'all, weary. Now, you want to tell us when, what and how we can protest. We've forgotten that we're supposed to be "happy Negroes." "Look at where you've come from." "You're millionaires, what are you complaining about?" You feel you get to tell us that racism no longer exists. You feel you get to tell us to stop seeing racism at every turn. You feel you can tell us to get over it, shut up, stop raising "thugs,," stop using and selling drugs, stop having so many babies you can't provide for, get off welfare and get a job and on and on, ad nauseam.
Sadly, I don't think the struggle will ever end. Sadly, I don't think the battle will ever be won. Sadly, I think racism will always exist. There have been times, especially since the last election, that I've just wanted to pack my bags and leave, give up the struggle and move to another country. But, I am a 6th generation American. My sons are 7th generation Americans. My grandson is an 8th generation American. THIS IS OUR COUNTRY AND I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!!!! You can keep changing the rules and we will keep on fighting for our dignity and our rights!
Today, I'm weary.
I'm weary from trying to explain to white people our journey.
I'm weary from explaining white privilege to white people.
I'm weary attempting to prove and show that racism still exists.
I'm weary of the N-word being flung about as soon as some black person doesn't "follow the rules" of being one of those good Negroes.
I'm weary of continually stating that my people built this country on land stolen from my Native ancestors.
We've tried. You set the rules and we tried our best to follow them. You keep changing the rules and we tried adapting to the new rules.
You said we were stupid and ignorant. We became educated and worked hard.
Despite the free labor we provided at threat of being beat or worse, we worked and worked and worked.
You said we were dirty, nasty and lazy. Yet, you had us as slaves in your kitchen preparing your food and cleaning your homes. Following "emancipation," you allowed us to clean your homes and take care of your children.
We wanted to vote because, as Americans, that was our right and would give us a say in government. You created poll taxes, literacy tests and other obstacles to prevent it and when that didn't work, you resorted to outright violence, murdering and maiming us, leaving our bodies swinging in the wind as a reminder to colored people "who forgot their place."
Following "emancipation," we wanted to own land since we saw that was a way to provide for our families. You created the sharecropping system which was just legalized slavery. We fled North, seeking better paying jobs. It wasn't that we were wanted up North, you just wanted to break the unions. You paid us less and put us in the most dangerous jobs in the steel mills where we were often injured, maimed or killed.
Still, we persevered. Locked out of "mainstream" colleges and universities, we created our own. We attended and sent our children to school and obtained our degrees only to find ourselves, for the most part, locked out of higher-paying positions. When Affirmative Action programs were created, you shouted "unfair," "discriminatory" and called us EEO hires.
It's okay that we can fill your stadiums and arenas. It's okay that we can make you laugh, often by making jokes at our own expense. We can sing and dance for you. You'll even buy our music. But, we can't forget our rightful place. We can't dare to think that were are equal. And, we can't dare forget that we are, and always will be, OTHER.
I'm tired, y'all, weary. Now, you want to tell us when, what and how we can protest. We've forgotten that we're supposed to be "happy Negroes." "Look at where you've come from." "You're millionaires, what are you complaining about?" You feel you get to tell us that racism no longer exists. You feel you get to tell us to stop seeing racism at every turn. You feel you can tell us to get over it, shut up, stop raising "thugs,," stop using and selling drugs, stop having so many babies you can't provide for, get off welfare and get a job and on and on, ad nauseam.
Sadly, I don't think the struggle will ever end. Sadly, I don't think the battle will ever be won. Sadly, I think racism will always exist. There have been times, especially since the last election, that I've just wanted to pack my bags and leave, give up the struggle and move to another country. But, I am a 6th generation American. My sons are 7th generation Americans. My grandson is an 8th generation American. THIS IS OUR COUNTRY AND I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!!!! You can keep changing the rules and we will keep on fighting for our dignity and our rights!
Saturday, August 30, 2014
The Birth Defect
A birth defect is defined as a physical or biochemical abnormality that is present at birth and that may be inherited or be the result of environmental influence. It is further defined as: an abnormality of structure, function or metabolism, whether genetically determined or the result of environmental interference during embryonic or fetal life. A birth defect may cause disease from the time of conception through birth, or late in life.
I have long maintained that the stain of slavery will forever remain on the United States. Like the red wine stain on a white, linen tablecloth, the history of slavery and racism on this country is a stain that, although faded, will always remain. You can rub and rub at the wine stain on the tablecloth, but despite all your efforts, despite whatever solvent you use, there will always remain a remnant of the stain. Slavery and its racism is the remnant that remains on the United States. It is the birth defect of this nation.
Condoleeza Rice, once said this:
The definition of a birth defect concludes that a birth defect may cause disease from the time of conception through birth and later life. Such is racism in this country (and others). It is a birth defect whose genesis began at the very beginning of this country. It is an allegory that handily lends itself to racism in this country.
It has been my belief, my fervent hope, that dialogue, honest conversations about race, will begin the long, difficult journey to reconciliation.
Blessings,
Tee
Sunday, August 17, 2014
White Privilege or Systemic Injustice?
I stumbled upon a webpage recently entitled, "Ask the White Guy." In the referenced post, he states "The concept of white privilege confuses and frustrates many white people, especially people who don’t perceive themselves as being in a position of power (a recent comment started with “I grew up in a trailer park”)" I agree with him.
I have had many conversations with white friends who struggled with the concept of white privilege. They have been quick to point out the fact that they are not rich, that they haven't been hired at a job simply because they're white, and more. I like the way Peggy McIntosh describe white privilege as "an invisible backpack." White people walk out the door every day with this invisible backpack on their shoulders. Most are not even aware it is there. They have carried it for so long, they no longer feel its weight, they've forgotten entirely that it is there. It is an old friend with which they are comfortable. This backpack allows them to shop (or browse) in a department store without being followed out of a fear of them shoplifting. Because of the backpack, when they are not hired for a job for which they applied, there is no wondering if the reason was because of their race. The sons of white people are not automatically deemed dangerous and suspicious for they, too, wear an invisible backpack. Some white people may say, "I've been followed in a store" or, one of my favorites, "I grew up poor, I didn't grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth." People who think this way lose sight of the fact that the backpack is invisible. Invisible is defined as unseen, not perceptible by the eye. In that vein, the fact that the backpack is invisible does not, in any way, negate its presence.
Now, let's consider the experiences of those who lack this invisible backpack (mainly people of color). It occurs to me that a good place to start would be what many people of color consider when naming their children. I suspect this is most common in black families. There is for many a, in my opinion well-founded, fear that a name that is too "ethnic" sounding will cause problems and roadblocks in the child's life. For example, when a recruiter considers a resume and the applicant's name is Jamal, Shaniqua, Ahmed or even Ebony, the recruiter can reasonably guess that the applicant is non-white. The reaction is similar when the applicant's name is Jose, Jesus, or Armando, especially if the surname is Perez, Gonzales, Hernandez or Sanchez. The recruiter often makes certain assumptions about the applicant prior to even interviewing the applicant. While the assumption may not be something as ignorant as "I bet this person can dance and likes rap music," there is a perception by many whites that black people and other people of color are inherently inferior, both in terms of intellect and education. This unconscious racism may cause the applicant's resume to undergo a higher level of scrutiny in an effort to find some reason to exclude the applicant. And, the resume often ends up in "File 13", a euphemism for the trash can.
I know there are those who, upon reading these words, will say something to the effect of, "here we go again. Not all white people are racist." Still others will call this playing the race card, a phrase I despise and will dismantle in another post. Racism is not always blatant, conscious, or perhaps even intended. Often, racism is so embedded into a psyche that a person seemingly forgets that it is there. For some reason (racism?) the black race is usually considered to be monolithic. Though this presumption may not be spoken, there is a belief that all black people think, act, and oh yes, eat the same (they all eat watermelon and fried chicken).
Continuing our journey into the experiences of black people who, unfortunately, do not have access to the invisible backpack, let's contrast some experiences with those of white people who wear the backpack. Very few, if any, white people fear that something happened, or didn't happen, to them because of their race. The only exception I can think of would be the rare times a white person applies for a job at a black-owned firm. Most black parents give what is called "the talk" to their black sons. This talk instructs the son how to behave when (not if) they are confronted by a white person, especially law enforcement. Notice I said "when," not "if." Trayvon Martin's father no doubt had this talk with Trayvon and his older brother. Perhaps Trayvon forgot or felt safe because he was within his own neighborhood. This forgetting or false sense of comfort cost Trayvon his life. Both of my sons are fine, upstanding, college-educated young men. Both have been pulled over numerous times by the police, for superfluous reasons. My younger son was out one night with a group of friends. My son was the only black man in the group. When they left the club at 2:30 in the morning, my son (and his friends) crossed in the middle of the block going to their cars. Out of nowhere, blue and red lights began flashing and a police car pulled up on my son. Dressed in non-baggy khakis and a polo shirt, my son (remembering "the talk") immediately stopped walking. The policeman told him he had "jay-walked." Despite the fact that he was walking, he was asked for his driver's license. After running his credentials through the system, my son was given a ticket for jaywalking. None of his white and Hispanic friends (who crossed with him) were ticketed. This citation (a $200 citation) was considered a moving violation and my son fought it for months, not wanting this walking violation to affect his driving record.
For the most part, white people can wear their hair in any style they choose, excepting probably, some strange colors. Yet, black people have to consider whether wearing their hair in a natural style will affect their chances at employment. Even in 2015, afros and other natural hairstyles make some people "uncomfortable." Lacking the backpack, housing in some neighborhoods is still not available to blacks. There is a fear, often unspoken but often spoken, that property values will go down if blacks, or other people of color, move into a neighborhood. The better schools are in the better neighborhoods, which are often unavailable to blacks. Though the Fair Housing Act of 1968 ostensibly made "redlining" illegal, redlining still exists. While blacks and other minorities may not be denied outright mortgage loans, they are often steered to higher-priced loans.
The lack of the backpack has long accounted for the disparity in wages of whites versus people of color. The median wealth of white households is 20 times that of black households and 18 times that of Hispanic households, according to a Pew Research Center analysis of newly available government data from 2009. Whites rarely, if ever, suspect that their black counterpart is earning more. Most blacks have accepted as fact their white counterpart is paid more.
As an anecdotal tale, I will relate the story of a young man I will call Granville. Granville has a masters degree in engineering. He works for the largest employer in his city with about ten people reporting to him. With the exception of one man, who I will call Robert, he wrote performance reviews and recommended salary increases for the people working under him. Each year, his boss told him, "oh, I'll do Robert's review." Robert, was a white man with only a high school education. When a friend of Granville's left the company, she told Granville that Robert made $10,000 more a year than Granville. Oh, incidentally, Robert complained privately to his friends that Granville "was an affirmative action hire." Did I mention that Granville graduated high school and undergraduate school summa cum laude? Did I fail to mention that Granville attended one of the best high schools in his city and both his undergraduate and graduate degrees were from an Ivy League School?
What many white people fail to understand, fail to get, is that this legacy of racism and white privilege is the backpack that blacks have carried on their backs, in their psyche for generations. It is not a matter of walking around with a racial so-called chip on their shoulders. It's a matter of accepting what has always been and will most likely continue for generations to come. There is a weightiness to this. It is a heavy burden that is ever-present and tiring. Imagine that each day, every day of every year, someone placed a heavy sack on your shoulders with which you had to walk out the door and carry with you throughout your day. It didn't matter whether you were going to work, the grocery store, the airport or a restaurant, the sack was there, weighing you down.
Undoubtedly, there will be those who will say, "it's not that bad," "you're too sensitive about being black," "things are better than they used to be," and a perennial favorite, "I'm not like that, I have black friends." It is, in my opinion, impossible for a white person to truly understand what it would be like to walk in the shoes of a black person. Even the ones who tried, such as the man who colored himself black for an experiment, were able to "go back to being white" at the end of the day.
Factor into this, the indisputable fact that this country made its wealth by the free, unpaid labor of its black slaves. When slavery finally ended, the newly freed slaves were told essentially "go be free." People who had been enslaved for centuries were turned out, literally, on the road to fend for themselves, penniless, landless and many with families scattered across the state and often in other states. These were people whose native tongues, customs and religions were beaten out of them. These were people whose family units were largely destroyed and scattered. Yet, even then, they were looked down upon, beaten, lynched and thought to be less than 100% human.
There are generational, hidden, invisible scars that cover the black race. That is not to say that black are sitting on some kind of "pity pot," crying woe is me. Rather they have learned how to cope and live with the system that exists. Is it any wonder that some have checked out of the "legit" life and chosen other ways to survive? Is it any wonder that many black men have left their families because of an inability to "be a man" because of the system that oppresses them? A system that destroyed their family unit centuries before? What has centuries of racism and its accompanying white privilege done to the psyche of the black man? Why are we, in 2018, still celebrating the first "black person to ......?"
I have had many conversations with white friends who struggled with the concept of white privilege. They have been quick to point out the fact that they are not rich, that they haven't been hired at a job simply because they're white, and more. I like the way Peggy McIntosh describe white privilege as "an invisible backpack." White people walk out the door every day with this invisible backpack on their shoulders. Most are not even aware it is there. They have carried it for so long, they no longer feel its weight, they've forgotten entirely that it is there. It is an old friend with which they are comfortable. This backpack allows them to shop (or browse) in a department store without being followed out of a fear of them shoplifting. Because of the backpack, when they are not hired for a job for which they applied, there is no wondering if the reason was because of their race. The sons of white people are not automatically deemed dangerous and suspicious for they, too, wear an invisible backpack. Some white people may say, "I've been followed in a store" or, one of my favorites, "I grew up poor, I didn't grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth." People who think this way lose sight of the fact that the backpack is invisible. Invisible is defined as unseen, not perceptible by the eye. In that vein, the fact that the backpack is invisible does not, in any way, negate its presence.
Now, let's consider the experiences of those who lack this invisible backpack (mainly people of color). It occurs to me that a good place to start would be what many people of color consider when naming their children. I suspect this is most common in black families. There is for many a, in my opinion well-founded, fear that a name that is too "ethnic" sounding will cause problems and roadblocks in the child's life. For example, when a recruiter considers a resume and the applicant's name is Jamal, Shaniqua, Ahmed or even Ebony, the recruiter can reasonably guess that the applicant is non-white. The reaction is similar when the applicant's name is Jose, Jesus, or Armando, especially if the surname is Perez, Gonzales, Hernandez or Sanchez. The recruiter often makes certain assumptions about the applicant prior to even interviewing the applicant. While the assumption may not be something as ignorant as "I bet this person can dance and likes rap music," there is a perception by many whites that black people and other people of color are inherently inferior, both in terms of intellect and education. This unconscious racism may cause the applicant's resume to undergo a higher level of scrutiny in an effort to find some reason to exclude the applicant. And, the resume often ends up in "File 13", a euphemism for the trash can.
I know there are those who, upon reading these words, will say something to the effect of, "here we go again. Not all white people are racist." Still others will call this playing the race card, a phrase I despise and will dismantle in another post. Racism is not always blatant, conscious, or perhaps even intended. Often, racism is so embedded into a psyche that a person seemingly forgets that it is there. For some reason (racism?) the black race is usually considered to be monolithic. Though this presumption may not be spoken, there is a belief that all black people think, act, and oh yes, eat the same (they all eat watermelon and fried chicken).
Continuing our journey into the experiences of black people who, unfortunately, do not have access to the invisible backpack, let's contrast some experiences with those of white people who wear the backpack. Very few, if any, white people fear that something happened, or didn't happen, to them because of their race. The only exception I can think of would be the rare times a white person applies for a job at a black-owned firm. Most black parents give what is called "the talk" to their black sons. This talk instructs the son how to behave when (not if) they are confronted by a white person, especially law enforcement. Notice I said "when," not "if." Trayvon Martin's father no doubt had this talk with Trayvon and his older brother. Perhaps Trayvon forgot or felt safe because he was within his own neighborhood. This forgetting or false sense of comfort cost Trayvon his life. Both of my sons are fine, upstanding, college-educated young men. Both have been pulled over numerous times by the police, for superfluous reasons. My younger son was out one night with a group of friends. My son was the only black man in the group. When they left the club at 2:30 in the morning, my son (and his friends) crossed in the middle of the block going to their cars. Out of nowhere, blue and red lights began flashing and a police car pulled up on my son. Dressed in non-baggy khakis and a polo shirt, my son (remembering "the talk") immediately stopped walking. The policeman told him he had "jay-walked." Despite the fact that he was walking, he was asked for his driver's license. After running his credentials through the system, my son was given a ticket for jaywalking. None of his white and Hispanic friends (who crossed with him) were ticketed. This citation (a $200 citation) was considered a moving violation and my son fought it for months, not wanting this walking violation to affect his driving record.
For the most part, white people can wear their hair in any style they choose, excepting probably, some strange colors. Yet, black people have to consider whether wearing their hair in a natural style will affect their chances at employment. Even in 2015, afros and other natural hairstyles make some people "uncomfortable." Lacking the backpack, housing in some neighborhoods is still not available to blacks. There is a fear, often unspoken but often spoken, that property values will go down if blacks, or other people of color, move into a neighborhood. The better schools are in the better neighborhoods, which are often unavailable to blacks. Though the Fair Housing Act of 1968 ostensibly made "redlining" illegal, redlining still exists. While blacks and other minorities may not be denied outright mortgage loans, they are often steered to higher-priced loans.
The lack of the backpack has long accounted for the disparity in wages of whites versus people of color. The median wealth of white households is 20 times that of black households and 18 times that of Hispanic households, according to a Pew Research Center analysis of newly available government data from 2009. Whites rarely, if ever, suspect that their black counterpart is earning more. Most blacks have accepted as fact their white counterpart is paid more.
As an anecdotal tale, I will relate the story of a young man I will call Granville. Granville has a masters degree in engineering. He works for the largest employer in his city with about ten people reporting to him. With the exception of one man, who I will call Robert, he wrote performance reviews and recommended salary increases for the people working under him. Each year, his boss told him, "oh, I'll do Robert's review." Robert, was a white man with only a high school education. When a friend of Granville's left the company, she told Granville that Robert made $10,000 more a year than Granville. Oh, incidentally, Robert complained privately to his friends that Granville "was an affirmative action hire." Did I mention that Granville graduated high school and undergraduate school summa cum laude? Did I fail to mention that Granville attended one of the best high schools in his city and both his undergraduate and graduate degrees were from an Ivy League School?
What many white people fail to understand, fail to get, is that this legacy of racism and white privilege is the backpack that blacks have carried on their backs, in their psyche for generations. It is not a matter of walking around with a racial so-called chip on their shoulders. It's a matter of accepting what has always been and will most likely continue for generations to come. There is a weightiness to this. It is a heavy burden that is ever-present and tiring. Imagine that each day, every day of every year, someone placed a heavy sack on your shoulders with which you had to walk out the door and carry with you throughout your day. It didn't matter whether you were going to work, the grocery store, the airport or a restaurant, the sack was there, weighing you down.
Undoubtedly, there will be those who will say, "it's not that bad," "you're too sensitive about being black," "things are better than they used to be," and a perennial favorite, "I'm not like that, I have black friends." It is, in my opinion, impossible for a white person to truly understand what it would be like to walk in the shoes of a black person. Even the ones who tried, such as the man who colored himself black for an experiment, were able to "go back to being white" at the end of the day.
Factor into this, the indisputable fact that this country made its wealth by the free, unpaid labor of its black slaves. When slavery finally ended, the newly freed slaves were told essentially "go be free." People who had been enslaved for centuries were turned out, literally, on the road to fend for themselves, penniless, landless and many with families scattered across the state and often in other states. These were people whose native tongues, customs and religions were beaten out of them. These were people whose family units were largely destroyed and scattered. Yet, even then, they were looked down upon, beaten, lynched and thought to be less than 100% human.
There are generational, hidden, invisible scars that cover the black race. That is not to say that black are sitting on some kind of "pity pot," crying woe is me. Rather they have learned how to cope and live with the system that exists. Is it any wonder that some have checked out of the "legit" life and chosen other ways to survive? Is it any wonder that many black men have left their families because of an inability to "be a man" because of the system that oppresses them? A system that destroyed their family unit centuries before? What has centuries of racism and its accompanying white privilege done to the psyche of the black man? Why are we, in 2018, still celebrating the first "black person to ......?"
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Will America Ever Truly Be My Home?
The title of this post is a rephrasing of an article I read today written by a Trinidad-born woman who, following graduation from college, had decided to return to Trinidad. Her thoughtful piece
details how, despite living in different areas of the country in different environments, among different cultures, she never felt a sense of belonging.
As a genealogist of 30-plus years, I have discovered that I am a fifth-generation American. My children are sixth-generation Americans and my grandson, a seventh-generation American. My family has been in this country longer than many, if not most, European-Americans. This doesn't include those ancestors who were Native Americans. Yet, like the writer of the referenced article, I ofen feel that I don't really belong. Yet, there are many here in this country who still don't see black people as "truly American." Yet, for the most part, we remain "the other." Yet, my educated, standard-English-speaking, non-baggy-pants-wearing sons are deemed suspicious, dangerous, worthy of being followed, attacked and even killed, solely because of the color of their skin.
Kidnapped, stolen, enslaved, beaten, lynched, stripped of native culture and tongues, Africans were bought to this continent literally kicking and screaming. The retelling of the conditions and treatment in which the kidnapped Africans were encased is unnecessary. We know, or should know, the history. We even have many who would tell us that, "We need to get over it." "That was a long time ago." "My grandparents never owned slaves." Yet, America won't "get over it."
We can educate ourselves at some of the finest institutions. We can gain employment at excellent organizations that enables us to purchase homes in gated communities, send our children to excellent schools, enroll them in extracurricular activities to build their character and help their communities. Yet, we remain the other. We still don't belong.
I've heard the question asked, "why do we keep trying to belong to a country that doesn't want us?" I can understand the sentiment. It's like the child who continually seeks his parents' approval, yet never gains it. It's like the abused wife who, despite her best efforts, can never satisfy the unreasonable demands and expectations of her husband. Dare I say it's like the cotton-picking slave, whose bleeding hands and feet traverse the cotton fields from sunup to sundown furiously picking the bolls in an effort to avoid the lash of the overseer, yet never seeming to be enough, do enough, be something other than the other, seeking favor, seeking acceptance.
I have friends who, tired of the fight to be more than the other, have just chosen to live within the system, eking out a living knowing the constraints. I know others who have fled the country to become ex-pats in countries they feel are more embracing. I admit to having strongly considered the latter in the past. Yet, I strongly feel that this country is as much, if not more, mine than most European-Americans. Yet, the melanin content of the skin of my sons conveys danger to many.
There are times when I doubt that we will ever belong. There are times when I suspect that is the agenda. Yet, this is my country. This is the country of my ancestors. Unlike the author of the referenced article, there is no African "home" to which I can return. The name, tongue and location of that African home was beaten out of my ancestors more than 300 years ago. I don't belong, but I'm not going anywhere.
It's 2013 and Trayvon Martin didn't belong either.
details how, despite living in different areas of the country in different environments, among different cultures, she never felt a sense of belonging.
As a genealogist of 30-plus years, I have discovered that I am a fifth-generation American. My children are sixth-generation Americans and my grandson, a seventh-generation American. My family has been in this country longer than many, if not most, European-Americans. This doesn't include those ancestors who were Native Americans. Yet, like the writer of the referenced article, I ofen feel that I don't really belong. Yet, there are many here in this country who still don't see black people as "truly American." Yet, for the most part, we remain "the other." Yet, my educated, standard-English-speaking, non-baggy-pants-wearing sons are deemed suspicious, dangerous, worthy of being followed, attacked and even killed, solely because of the color of their skin.
Kidnapped, stolen, enslaved, beaten, lynched, stripped of native culture and tongues, Africans were bought to this continent literally kicking and screaming. The retelling of the conditions and treatment in which the kidnapped Africans were encased is unnecessary. We know, or should know, the history. We even have many who would tell us that, "We need to get over it." "That was a long time ago." "My grandparents never owned slaves." Yet, America won't "get over it."
We can educate ourselves at some of the finest institutions. We can gain employment at excellent organizations that enables us to purchase homes in gated communities, send our children to excellent schools, enroll them in extracurricular activities to build their character and help their communities. Yet, we remain the other. We still don't belong.
I've heard the question asked, "why do we keep trying to belong to a country that doesn't want us?" I can understand the sentiment. It's like the child who continually seeks his parents' approval, yet never gains it. It's like the abused wife who, despite her best efforts, can never satisfy the unreasonable demands and expectations of her husband. Dare I say it's like the cotton-picking slave, whose bleeding hands and feet traverse the cotton fields from sunup to sundown furiously picking the bolls in an effort to avoid the lash of the overseer, yet never seeming to be enough, do enough, be something other than the other, seeking favor, seeking acceptance.
I have friends who, tired of the fight to be more than the other, have just chosen to live within the system, eking out a living knowing the constraints. I know others who have fled the country to become ex-pats in countries they feel are more embracing. I admit to having strongly considered the latter in the past. Yet, I strongly feel that this country is as much, if not more, mine than most European-Americans. Yet, the melanin content of the skin of my sons conveys danger to many.
There are times when I doubt that we will ever belong. There are times when I suspect that is the agenda. Yet, this is my country. This is the country of my ancestors. Unlike the author of the referenced article, there is no African "home" to which I can return. The name, tongue and location of that African home was beaten out of my ancestors more than 300 years ago. I don't belong, but I'm not going anywhere.
It's 2013 and Trayvon Martin didn't belong either.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Have we become complacent?
Last week, social media was abuzz with chatter about the B.E.T. Awards, Being Mary Jane and whether Beyonce was again pregnant. Yet, there was little chatter about a landmark piece of legislation that was gutted by the U.S. Supreme Court.
Last week, the U.S. Supreme Court struck down (many say gutted) a large portion of the Voting Rights Act of 1965. This landmark legislation was signed by President Lyndon B. Johnson in 1965. The Act was implemented to overcome legal barriers that prevent African-Americans from voting under the 15th Amendment of the Constitution.
As a little refresher on the pertinent point, The 13th Amendment (1865) abolished slavery and involuntary servitude. The 14th Amendment was enacted in 1868 and granted citizenship rights to emancipated slaves. It said that if states don't give voting rights to black men, they cannot then count them as part of the population for purposes of gaining seats in the House of Representatives. (Women did not gain the right to vote in the U.S. until the 19th Amendment in 1920.) Southern states vigorously and violently opposed the right of black men to vote, yet they wanted representation in Congress.
In 1870, the 15th amendment was ratified. It stated that voting rights in states cannot be withheld on the basis of race, color and previous position of servitude. Despite the ratification of the 15th Amendment, southern states still fought giving the ability to vote to black men. They instituted poll taxes and literacy tests for black men. White people were "grandfathered" in and did not have to take such tests or pay poll taxes. This was the impetus to the Voting Rights Act of 1965.
The Voting Rights Act was a landmark act. It prohibited "states from imposing any voting qualification or prerequisite to voting, or standard, practice, or procedure ... to deny or abridge the right of any citizen of the United States to vote on account of race or color." This is the Act that was gutted (by a vote of 5-4) by the Supreme Court.
During the run-up to the 2012 Presidential Election, many states attempted to enact "Voter ID" laws. This is the 21st Century version of the old poll taxes. Realizing that the minority will soon by the majority and that this new majority more and more votes Democrat, Republicans had to find a new way to deter and dis-enfranchise voters. The various voter id laws are one way to do this. Another is the re-districting that is going on in many southern states. Without the protection of The Voting Rights Act, in its entirety, many blacks and people of color will be unable to vote. Failing to attract minorities and many young people to their party, the extreme Right is seeking other means to disenfranchise voters of color.
Of course, Congress and the Legislature can pass new legislation to enact new law, but with the Republicans fighting tooth and nail, it will be an uphill battle.
Young people need to learn the history and become involved in the process. Rather than worrying about whether Beyonce is again pregnant or discussing 50 Cent's latest troubles with the law or who won what award at the B.E.T. Awards, get involved in what affects your future. Learn your history and HIStory.
Last week, the U.S. Supreme Court struck down (many say gutted) a large portion of the Voting Rights Act of 1965. This landmark legislation was signed by President Lyndon B. Johnson in 1965. The Act was implemented to overcome legal barriers that prevent African-Americans from voting under the 15th Amendment of the Constitution.
As a little refresher on the pertinent point, The 13th Amendment (1865) abolished slavery and involuntary servitude. The 14th Amendment was enacted in 1868 and granted citizenship rights to emancipated slaves. It said that if states don't give voting rights to black men, they cannot then count them as part of the population for purposes of gaining seats in the House of Representatives. (Women did not gain the right to vote in the U.S. until the 19th Amendment in 1920.) Southern states vigorously and violently opposed the right of black men to vote, yet they wanted representation in Congress.
In 1870, the 15th amendment was ratified. It stated that voting rights in states cannot be withheld on the basis of race, color and previous position of servitude. Despite the ratification of the 15th Amendment, southern states still fought giving the ability to vote to black men. They instituted poll taxes and literacy tests for black men. White people were "grandfathered" in and did not have to take such tests or pay poll taxes. This was the impetus to the Voting Rights Act of 1965.
The Voting Rights Act was a landmark act. It prohibited "states from imposing any voting qualification or prerequisite to voting, or standard, practice, or procedure ... to deny or abridge the right of any citizen of the United States to vote on account of race or color." This is the Act that was gutted (by a vote of 5-4) by the Supreme Court.
During the run-up to the 2012 Presidential Election, many states attempted to enact "Voter ID" laws. This is the 21st Century version of the old poll taxes. Realizing that the minority will soon by the majority and that this new majority more and more votes Democrat, Republicans had to find a new way to deter and dis-enfranchise voters. The various voter id laws are one way to do this. Another is the re-districting that is going on in many southern states. Without the protection of The Voting Rights Act, in its entirety, many blacks and people of color will be unable to vote. Failing to attract minorities and many young people to their party, the extreme Right is seeking other means to disenfranchise voters of color.
Of course, Congress and the Legislature can pass new legislation to enact new law, but with the Republicans fighting tooth and nail, it will be an uphill battle.
Young people need to learn the history and become involved in the process. Rather than worrying about whether Beyonce is again pregnant or discussing 50 Cent's latest troubles with the law or who won what award at the B.E.T. Awards, get involved in what affects your future. Learn your history and HIStory.
Finally, I write about Trayvon
I've held off writing something about the Trayvon Martin case. It was not because I had become jaded to the senseless attacks and murders of young, black men. It was not because I wasn't surprised at yet another case like Trayvon's. It was because Trayvon was my son, my nephew, my grandson or even my brother.
During the year since Trayvon's murder, I have found one thing quite interesting, to use a word. When Trayvon was first attacked and killed, Zimmerman was identified as a white man and in his early images, he appeared to be just that, white. His mother is Peruvian and his father is white. By the time he was finally charged and arrested, he had (it appears) gained a tan and was now identifying as Hispanic, no doubt on the advice of his lawyers. I found that interesting because the majority of Peruvians do not identify themselves as Hispanic. Rather they identify as Mestizo, which historically has reflected European and Spanish ancestry or European and American Indian ancestry. Somewhere in a back room, it was decided that if Zimmerman appeared and self-identified as Hispanic, perhaps it would be less likely that he racially profiled Trayvon. After all, minorities do not racially profile other minorities, right? Racial profiling is something only done by whites.
Today I read a post wherein the author attempts to make the point that blacks kill other blacks, and whites, routinely and it doesn't make the news. She/he asks the question why is it news when a non-black kills a black person? Many, if not most of the commenters on the post agreed with the author of the post. My response is that a question like that would make sense in Utopia. In Utopia (at least as I visualize it), there would not be the stain of racism. Young black men would not automatically be deemed suspicious and possibly dangerous. White people would not invent some random black man as the perpetuator of a crime and BE BELIEVED. My black sons would not be routinely stopped while driving. My younger son would not be selected out of a crowd to be ticketed for jaywalking (he was the only non-white among his friends and it was 2:30 in the morning.
We don't live in Utopia. We live in a country stained by slavery and historical racism. We live in a country where all of the things mentioned above regularly occur. For those ignorant of our history, there was a time when blacks were routinely beaten, lynched and otherwise murdered and nothing was said or done. Most black families have ancestors who simply "disappeared." No one in the family knew what happened to them, many figured the klan got them. Can't exactly do that now days. So, we have the Zimmermans of our time.
Rather than America, black, white or other, embracing Trayvon's as a son who was tragically murdered, funds sprung up to provide monies for the defense of Zimmerman, the murderer. There has been ongoing debate as to whether Zimmerman was standing his ground by following a young man, a teenager, who was doing nothing wrong - and murdering him. Indeed, it was weeks before Zimmerman was even charged with a crime. Had it not been for the outcry from the black community, I doubt he would have been charged.
As the trial winds down to a close, I fear the outcome. I fear that Zimmerman will be acquitted and yet the death of yet another young, black man goes unpunished and will be, in some quarters, celebrated.
During the year since Trayvon's murder, I have found one thing quite interesting, to use a word. When Trayvon was first attacked and killed, Zimmerman was identified as a white man and in his early images, he appeared to be just that, white. His mother is Peruvian and his father is white. By the time he was finally charged and arrested, he had (it appears) gained a tan and was now identifying as Hispanic, no doubt on the advice of his lawyers. I found that interesting because the majority of Peruvians do not identify themselves as Hispanic. Rather they identify as Mestizo, which historically has reflected European and Spanish ancestry or European and American Indian ancestry. Somewhere in a back room, it was decided that if Zimmerman appeared and self-identified as Hispanic, perhaps it would be less likely that he racially profiled Trayvon. After all, minorities do not racially profile other minorities, right? Racial profiling is something only done by whites.
Today I read a post wherein the author attempts to make the point that blacks kill other blacks, and whites, routinely and it doesn't make the news. She/he asks the question why is it news when a non-black kills a black person? Many, if not most of the commenters on the post agreed with the author of the post. My response is that a question like that would make sense in Utopia. In Utopia (at least as I visualize it), there would not be the stain of racism. Young black men would not automatically be deemed suspicious and possibly dangerous. White people would not invent some random black man as the perpetuator of a crime and BE BELIEVED. My black sons would not be routinely stopped while driving. My younger son would not be selected out of a crowd to be ticketed for jaywalking (he was the only non-white among his friends and it was 2:30 in the morning.
We don't live in Utopia. We live in a country stained by slavery and historical racism. We live in a country where all of the things mentioned above regularly occur. For those ignorant of our history, there was a time when blacks were routinely beaten, lynched and otherwise murdered and nothing was said or done. Most black families have ancestors who simply "disappeared." No one in the family knew what happened to them, many figured the klan got them. Can't exactly do that now days. So, we have the Zimmermans of our time.
Rather than America, black, white or other, embracing Trayvon's as a son who was tragically murdered, funds sprung up to provide monies for the defense of Zimmerman, the murderer. There has been ongoing debate as to whether Zimmerman was standing his ground by following a young man, a teenager, who was doing nothing wrong - and murdering him. Indeed, it was weeks before Zimmerman was even charged with a crime. Had it not been for the outcry from the black community, I doubt he would have been charged.
As the trial winds down to a close, I fear the outcome. I fear that Zimmerman will be acquitted and yet the death of yet another young, black man goes unpunished and will be, in some quarters, celebrated.
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