Bush, and being called a 'Racist'

Bush has said that the worst moment of his presidency was being called a racist by Kanye West. But he is crying white woman's tears (more on that here, here, here, and here). And I'm not too sympathetic.

It seems that the worst thing you can call a white person is 'racist.' A common scene at 'diversity workshops': a white person gets corrected in her prejudices and then SHE'S the one in tears and being comforted.

It hurts to get called out, especially if it not done in a loving way. But throwing a fit because your feelings are hurt only serves to derail the conversation from the larger issues at hand. Even if you were falsely accused or you were misinterpreted, are you really trying to pit this moment of discomfort against centuries of on ongoing oppression?

We need to have grace for each other in conversations about race: both for those that make ignorant statements, and for those that react with passionate anger to those statements. Is Bush a racist? Absolutely. So am I (see post: Defining Racism). Racism is like any sin: recognizing that we are broken is the first step to fixing it.

Denial isn't going to get us anywhere. We are all prejudiced and all white folks receive benefits from the color of their skin. Many other factors of privilege may intermingle and confuse the issue, but the truth remains that racial prejudice is a prevalent and persistent beast in each one of us as members of racial majority.

Does Bush 'not care about black people'? I don't know his heart. But I do know that our black brothers and sisters go through a lot of struggles that white folks as a whole don't care about, or don't even pause to consider. We go about our lives benefiting from institutionalize racial privileged, not even realizing we have them, let alone actively working against them. I think it is probably fair to assume that Bush is like most white people. So yes, he and we are racist.

Rather than getting all in a huff about being called a name that probably does apply, it would have been nice if Bush had addressed the issue head on. He could have said "Yes, and I am sorry. I don't know if I would have acted differently if the hurricane had struck Boston, but I know I am a product of a culture that makes value judgments based on color and that I am susceptible to those biases. I am working to correct that in myself and I am sorry for the pain that I cause in the meantime." But it takes guts to say something like that, even if you aren't in the national spotlight.

To some extent, white offense stems from a barrier that we put up between ourselves and those "real racists" (see Basically Good).  As in: "we aren't burning crosses, so we must be alright. And don't you dare lump me in with those folks." Unfortunately, this characterization means that modern racism is alive and well and is allowed to run rampant.

It alive in the movie industry, and in the television shows. It is in our advertising and our marketing strategies. It is in out hiring policies and our admissions requirements. It is in our housing guidelines and our public policies.

And it is in the Presidents that get offended.


See Also:
Basically Good
Reverse Discrimination
Abagond on Post-Jim Crow Racism and Jim Crow Racism
Abagond on White Womens' Tears
Abagond on the Five Walls of Racism

Repost from LIE

We have had conversations with several of the readers here about the definition of racism and how white folk percieve this concept. This post recently appeared on the blog Love Isn't Enough and I thought it had some good characterizations:


WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE CALLED A RACIST?

Recently, writer Ta-Nehisi Coates asked the readers of his blog what it means “among white people” to be a racist. He clarifies:

 I don’t mean under the sanction of black people. I mean in places where there are no black people. It almost feels like, among whites, to be accused of being a racist is a class slur. Like racist is short for “inbred uncultured hick.” It’s fascinating. 

Coates’ readers responded, and the conversation was both thoughtful and thought-provoking. I’d like to draw attention to a few comments, which I thought were right on the money.

Comment 1:

It’s funny. This paranoia about “seeming” and being acknowledged as a good person was present even when slavery/racism were legally institutionalized. Slaveowners, businesspeople, all of them recognized the same thing we’re still astounded by, that they were privileged and empowered, and they tried to do “generous” things that would make them feel better. I’m paraphrasing Anthony Keyes a historian here, but the nature of their largesse was such that the institution would never have to change.

The upshot of all this anxiety is still in the end to not alter the locus of power and privilege. Not getting past this guilt, laying the charge on future generations to grow up in a world without guilt, is just one more step inserted in the process to slow down the present journey of getting somewhere useful. It’s keeping the dialogue on glass, on sensitivities.

 Comment 2:

My current theory is that we have the pictures and videos of the white hatred during the civil rights struggles, including against school children. We say to ourselves that is what racism looks like, and I would never do that so therefore I’m not a racist. I don’t think you’ll find any white persons (very few, anyway) who would defend those contorted angry white faces, but I think we are ready to pat ourselves on the back for not being like that. We let a black driver pull out in front of us and say to ourselves, “I’m not a racist. No sir, not me.” We nod at a mixed race couple at a restaurant and say to ourselves, “My grandfather would have punched that black so-and-so in the nose, but not me. See how civilized I am.” We have a black family living in our suburban neighborhood and congratulate ourselves that it doesn’t even bother us. To my chagrin, I find myself making the same arguments, and then I realize what I’m doing and I’m ashamed.

We have defined racism down to the most virulent level and everything else is OK, proof that we’re not racists. This is probably similar to what the owners of those contorted angry faces were thinking in the fifties, “I think slavery is bad, so therefore I can’t be a racist.”

Comment 3:

Of all people, I think Jane Smiley actually nailed this in her now famous essay where she blasts Mark Twain and “Huck Finn,” arguing that we should be reading “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” in schools instead. Smiley said, and I’m paraphrasing here, that the problem with white people was that they tended to believe that racism was a feeling, or an emotion, rather than a deep institutional reality that existed outside of one person’s capacity for rationalization–that way, the white person could always simply gauge their own feelings at the moment and determine they weren’t racist: “Gee, I don’t hate black people, so of course I’m not racist.”

Comment 4:

To be considered a racist, as a white person, is one of several things:

a) You are saying or do something that, on the face of it is racist. And yet you don’t feel like you hate them black people. So you can’t be racist. ‘Cause racism is hate, and you don’t feel hate.

b) You are a bad person, and “racist” is a convenient word to throw at you. There is no defense, and trying to defend yourself simply makes you look worse and worse.

c) You are completely blind to the idea that other people who don’t look like you might actually have their own, valid viewpoints and values; said people do not need your approval for them to go on living and being satisfied with their lives. You think, however, that if you feel a warm sense of approval you are being non-racist.

d) You think that the people who don’t look like you would be normal if they would just think like you do and do things like you do; however, you will never really accept them because they are not white – they will simply still be second-class, but they will be an acceptable second class.

e) You realize that to be safe and to fit in, you have led an unexamined life where casual racism is disguised as discernment and value-judging. The idea that you might really be racist is deeply unpleasant to you, because you know racism is wrong. And yet, you realize that you are deeply unhappy with the way things are, so you decide to risk everything and think, “Maybe I am racist. Just a bit. Where it’s not so bad.”

f) You are a racist, and realize it, and you are saddened and ashamed and yet you realize that the first step to stepping out of racism is to realize how thoroughly tainted you are with it.

Readers, what do you think? What rings true, or doesn’t, about these comments? How would you answer Coates’ question?

Grateful for God's protective favor, but...

...not for the officer's

Last night, I totaled my car in a highway accident. Walked away. Praise God.

The guy that cut me off didn’t stop driving and so was not on the scene when the police came. All the cop saw was my car crashed at night against the cement guard for no obvious reason.

The policeman didn’t give me a ticket, didn’t ask for my license, didn’t ask for insurance or registration,  didn’t even ask my name or how it happened. He just made sure I was alright, called me a tow truck, and waited with me until it came.

For all the officer knew, I could have stolen that car, or I could have been high and lost control on the road, or I could have been driving without a license at all. Or I could have been an illegal immigrant.

But he didn’t think I was 'that kind of person'
and so he didn't question me at all.

This is white privilege.


See Also:
Arizona's Ban on 'Ethnic Studies'
What is a post-9/11 American?

Ballet Requiem!!: a review

BalletMet's production of 'Requiem!!' opened this weekend and  I have several thoughts on the matter:

Loved the concept! Adding movement to Mozart's final death mass is a delightful idea.

But the show lost immediate cool points when the lights dimmed and the (wrong) opening bars were pumped in over a PA system. I know it expensive to hire live musicians (though choir would have been basically free), but what a terribly missed opportunity for innovative collaboration. The recording was a Süssmayr edition of the score and I have some guesses as to who the performers were (if anyone knows for a fact let me know)-- Loved LOVED the soprano. Definitely disagreed with the alto. Basses always make me happy. I don't remember the tenor (a point in itself).

I am sure one of the reasons for opting  for a recording was because of the odd choice in program order, which I found terribly disorienting. Teil 1 and 3 were palindromic, beginning with the end of the Sequentia and working to the Introitus and then back again. Teil 2 consisted of the Offertorium, the Sanctus, and the Agnus Dei. As far as I can remember the Communo was left out.

I am at a loss to determine the artistic motivation behind this choice, beyond simply a desire to break audience expectation of the Mass and to lengthen performance--both of which were thoroughly accomplished. But it left one with a a lack of line both harmonically and thematically, yielding a Judus-like death scene in the middle of the Kyrie, of all things. I rarely could find any connection between the liturgy we were hearing and the dance we were seeing. So then why bother with this piece? There are plenty of pieces about death out there, without the need to exploit the fame of Shaffer's Amadeus! The performance is loosely biographical of Mozart, which is perhaps apt to his death-bed composition. But I find him hardly a motivating subject under the weight of the liturgical symbolism.  And indeed Death was the stronger character throughout the performance.

The set was well crafted with exists and stairs that only a select few characters had the power to navigate. Above it all, the thrown of God looked down in observation and/or judgement. Fun touch.

I am not in a position to comment about the dance. As a lay person, I was impressed, but not enthralled. Fair enough. The same can be said for Strauss! The artists were well disciplined and conditioned (as Adrienne Benz displayed for us on the program cover--my, what strong calves you have!) and executed a clean show.  Swinging ropes allowed for a promising prop, but were not maximally utilized. But then again, these are dancers, not aerialists.

One final critique that is not limited to BalletMet, but that is the reason for the review's inclusion in this particular blog.  Of the large (50+) cast, there was only one person of color, as far as I could tell (from my, admittedly nose-bleed seats).  But my frustration is not only with the ballet companies, but with the audiences members that tolerate it/don't even notice.  Upon mentioning my observation of the cast demographics, I was asked why it bothered me at all. I wish I were quicker on my toes with live rebuttal. Why does it bother me!?!  Let me count the ways.

It bothers me that people put so much faith in meritocracy. We falsely assume that the process is fair and unbiased--that if someone is successful, it is clearly of their own doing. No doubt each dancer on that stage is extremely talented and works incredibly hard everyday. But chances are good, they also had some help along the way. They had parents that could afford to send them to dance classes, and to transport them to and from rehearsals. They could devote time to practice because someone else was worrying about the rent. They had the funds or the credit score to go to college. They had the security of knowing that if they flat on their faces, they have a support system to fall back on. A support system that has been cultivated over decades of advantage to accumulate the security needed to pursue big dreams of stardom.

Do all white folk have these supports and resources ? no. Do a lot more of them have privilege that come with institutionalized systems of bias? Absolutely.

A second response I received that night was a long the lines of  "When it comes to auditions and one person is just better than another, there is isn't anything wrong with that."

Again, this statement assumes a fair and equal process, something that people of color have yet to enjoy as a daily reality. Once you make the sacrifices to get to the audition, you hope that no prejudices await you from the director's chair. So much of casting is about "look" and "fit." And what does that mean? who knows? It depends on the director, who is a product of a racialized society.  If something just isn't quite right with a dancer, could it be that he doesn't fit in your box of who a dancer can be? If two dancers give good auditions, which one gets the benefit of the doubt, the nod that says, 'I know your performances will ultimately be better'? Then, if you make the part, but your fellow cast members and directors are skeptical that you fit the mold, do you have the strength to give it your all and prove them wrong everyday? Or wouldn't it be easier to accept the fact that you are out of you element and hit the snooze button instead of getting up for that 5 AM work out? In the cut throat audition world, every advantage counts. And membership in the racial majority is one heck of an advantage.

I don't claim to know much about ballet culture, but I imagine it is much like the rest of the world, including that of the opera stage. An excerpt from previously published work:

"Bass-baritone Simon Estes recalls his White-American agent recently warning him bluntly of what he as a singer has already experienced: “if two people go into an audition, if one is of color and the other is not….if their talents are the same, they will take the White artist. If the Black artist is a little bit better, they will take the White artist. If the Black artist is much, much better, they will take the Black artist, but then they will pay him less.”* Of course, there is little proof that such discrimination happens, which can be extremely frustrating. Few declaim outright that this is what they are doing, and maybe it is not readily apparent to the casting directors themselves. However, it is a very real experience to hundreds of singers of color—an experience for which I have no personal basis of denial."

What else readers? I know I am forgetting some points here.

The situation is this, seeing such a disproportionately represented cast bothered me because it is a sign that BalletMet, like so many other organizations across the country is not doing its part to work against the inertia of racism that slows us all down. And audiences are not demanding that it happen either. I believe it is incumbent upon the benefactors of racial advantage to use some of that privilege to undo these wrongs.  Yes that means sacrifices, and yes it means stepping aside so someone else can have "our spot." A spot that never would have been ours to begin with, but for the forced sacrifices of others.



All this to say, I did enjoy myself (seriously) and you should and support live arts!



ps. After the show we went out for drinks. Sam Cooke was playing in the background....heh.



*Rosalyn M. Story et al., Aida's Brothers & Sisters (West Long Branch, N.J.: PARS Media; Kultur distributor, 2000).



See Also:
Reverse Decriminalization
Affirmative Action
News for the Golden Child

Segregated

These city maps use census data to visually depict our racial isolation. Red dot is 'White', Blue is 'Black', Green is 'Asian', Orange is 'Hispanic', Gray is 'Other', and each dot represents 25 people.

Chicago

The division is clear: don't cross that line. Because prejudice is inherited, and when you live in isolation, there's no reason to think your parents got it wrong. Because after all of the protests, the violence, and the busing, the map still looks the same. And who cares if it's equal as long as we're separate...

Pictures paint the islands of blue or orange in the center of the cities, surrounded by a sea of suburban red. Because just one street over is the wrong side of town. And they are in that school district, and we don't know them, and they don't think like we do, and they just don't belong with us. And that's how it is.

Detroit

And if you live on the "blue" side of Parson Ave., the city doesn't care if your streets aren't plowed, or if the empty houses are crumbling, or if you fall neck-deep in a pothole. But they'll care darn fast if some blue kid gets too 'rowdy' and doesn't 'respect the law.'

Columbus

Because if you're separate, you're divided. And you swear you love your neighbor, but you don't even share the same neighborhood. So you've got no clue how to share each others' burdens.  And nothing's gonna change unless you live together, grow together, more than just drive the highways together--try crying together.

Your isolation perpetuates your ignorance--and your isolation is easy to see.

UPDATE: Some initial statistics have been released from the 2010 census