Saturday, December 14, 2013

Dreams: Skating Dreams Series

Dream interpreters: the last three nights, I had three dreams with the same theme. In each of them I am skating on indoor floors. 

In the first, I am skating on hardwood floors--like fake hardwood floors-- in the middle of a house or school or something like that and I am extremely good at it. And people are praising my skills. 

In the next dream I am skating through a high-end grocery store, and I am out-of-control. I run into an old woman in the dairy section. I can't actually see her just feel that she's there.  I run over her.  I realize that I cannot Control myself or stop. I skate up and down the aisles until people from the store come and surround me.  it's clear that I'm going to be forcibly stopped.  not violently stopped; just held. 

In the third dream, I am skating around a university classroom with some of my closest friends, Chris Chambers in particular is there. I am skating around the edge of the room at first just touching each corner with my hand. Then I feel compelled to touch each corner with the entirety of my back like just rub my entire back against each corner and it's a clear OCD type compulsion. people are watching and talking to me as I'm more and more out of control. I'm also making verbal connections between phrases that people make and popular songs that contain that phrase. I am showing off a little bit. But it becomes clear that I am not in control of myself.  first it's clear to me and that is clear to other people.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

I Dream a Black World (Pt. 1: Why I Dream)

In the US, white racism has rendered American culture and its values tacitly racist.  American ideals are determined by what is culturally white and/or preferable to whites. 

Many examples come quickly to mind, but here is a subtle one.  At new faculty orientation, a retention specialist spoke about available resources on campus.  He noted that we should be especially attentive to students of color because they have lower retention rates than whites.  He then noted several differences between white and nonwhite students: nonwhites are more likely to be first generation college students; nonwhites believe "exogenous factors" beyond their control impact their progress in school, but whites believe their personal choices determine their outcomes; nonwhites are more likely to have jobs while in school; etc.  The retention specialist then said that faculty need to help the students of color with all of that.  I thought, "what's wrong with believing that factors beyond one's control impact one's progress in life?"  That's the truth!  Any sociologist can demonstrate that, although most people don't even need the demonstration.  Plus, most religious people also believe factors beyond a person's control impact his/her life.  You don't need a doctorate to know that!  So why should we go around convincing students of color of something that we know is not true?  Why not work on convincing white students of the truth?  And why is our university structured around a known lie?

So, in the case of "self-efficacy" among college students, it is obvious that the university is structured around whiteness.  The university takes note of white people's beliefs and then structures the institution accordingly.  What is "right" is whatever whites believe, need, or prefer--even when those beliefs are demonstrably false.  Conversely, "serving students of color" consists of "helping" them become like whites--even when whites are wrong. 

The pattern of attending to whites and "helping" nonwhites become white is offensive.  It is especially so when the university is set up to force students of color to do the impossible.  The university effectively ask students of color to not only "think" white (i.e. stop believing in structural/exogenous influences) but also to "live as" whites.  By "live as white," I mean living as though people of color have whites' resources.  Helping students of color with being first generation doesn't mean restructuring the university with the assumption that students are first generation.  No.  It means hoping that a student will know enough to ask the right questions to the right people and only then being prepared to give them informed answers.  Likewise, helping them with the fact that they are more likely to work doesn't mean offering more flexible class times.  No.  It means telling them where financial aid is (so they accumulate debt whites don't have) so they can have the same amount of free time as economically privileged white students and/or helping them with "time management."  Ultimately, when nonwhite students fail to become and live as whites--dropping out, slow matriculation, not having "the college experience--the university blames the student. 

I'm tired of adjusting to a white world.  I'm tired of being forced to live lies just because white people want to believe them.  I'm tired of stealing nonwhite children's youths because: 1) we cannot afford to give them the opportunities associate with youth; and 2) whites will ruin and/or take nonwhite children's lives if they do youthful things (e.g. Trayvon Martin buying Skittles and walking home; Black boys/girls being criminally charged for violating school policies).  I'm tired of paying tax dollars into institutions that serve whites but change me.  I'm tired of funding white privilege.  I'm tired of coerced/asked to participate in a community-hating and self-hating racist project. 

Unfortunately, a white racist world is the one we live in.  (How's that for evidence that forces beyond our control affect our life/college progress?!)  I don't have the resources to bring into being a fairer, non-racist world.  But I can dream--and so I do. 

Sunday, October 6, 2013

My Life in Republicanville 5: "I love you, N****r"

Yesterday, in my favorite bar in Republicanville, my favorite bartender sat and talked with me for a few minutes.  The bartender is racially ambiguous, but he appears biracial white/black.  After a few minutes, he greeted a middle aged white man who is one of the regulars.  At the end of their conversation, the white man gives the bartender a very tight hug and says, "I love you, nigger."

I didn't get a chance to ask the bartender about it.  In the moment, it appeared to be a normal experience between the two of them.  I can't tell if the bartender is just playing it off for social reasons and because it's his place of business.  Details to come...

Needless to say, I am horrified.

My Life in Republicanville 4: I Need a New Bar

I have a lot of work to do today, so I'll keep this brief.

Friday night, after work, I stopped by my favorite bar in Republicanville to watch some playoff baseball.  Not long after I bellied up to the bar, a couple of post-college, late 20s white men walk in and sit next to me.  As he pulls out his chair, one man says, "Don't worry.  I'm not racist."  I gave a side eye  look and said, "That's good to know."  He then asked if I was "that guy who works in the library."  When I said no, he asked "are you sure?" and reached for his phone (to pull up the guy's picture on the university website--I think).  His friend said, "So all black guys look alike?"  I gave the friend a knowing nod, which prompted the first guy to insist that I really do look just like the library guy.  When he pulled up the library guy's picture, he looked nothing like me.  Our complexions are similar, but we are at least 50 pounds apart and our facial features are not similar.  I frowned and said, "Well, that didn't take long."

The two guys followed with a round of racist comments about my blackness, ending when one of them "won" 7-2.

When I returned to the bar yesterday, they were surprised I sat far away from them.  They yelled across the bar, "Is it because we're white? ... Do you not want to sit with us because we're racist?"

Just another day in Republicanville.  (In related news, I think I'm gonna have to get cable just to avoid having to be in racist surroundings anytime I want to see a game.  You can chalk that $60/month up as just one of "the many costs of racism.")

Sunday, July 21, 2013

My Life in Republicanville - 3: Dick and Jane Threaten to Hold Me at Gunpoint

After my first apartment option fell through, I ended up renting a condo from extremely conservative white Christians.  (The following story is also part of my reflections on the George Zimmerman Acquittal for Murdering Trayvon Martin).  The husband and wife landlord team, whom I will call Dick and Jane, took me to their home so they could process my application and conduct my background check.  As Dick entered my information into the computer, Jane stood in the threshold of the entrance that connected the room we were in to the majority of the house.  Once my criminal background check came back clean, Dick turned and said, "Whew!  You're clean!  I was ready to say to Jane, 'Honey, get the gun.  This guy is wanted!'"


Keep in mind, Dick and Jane had already confirmed my university appointment!  They had seen my contract and spoken to the department secretary.  Nevertheless, they suspected that I was a criminal and were prepared to hold me at gun point!  Being a good ethnographer--and frankly, a well-raised black person--I noticed the NRA sticker on their truck in the driveway.  I also saw mail identifying Dick and Jane as "Texans for Fiscal Responsibility," which places them far on the right fringe--the Tea Party's Tea Party.  Point being, Dick's exclamation was no idle threat.  

Essentially, I am renting an apartment from George Zimmerman right now!  My landlords' racism, presumptions of me as dangerous and criminal, and willingness to use deadly force against me are all explicitly established.  Only my own personal George Zimmerman has a key to my front door!  

I would also like to point out that my situation has many more parallels to the Zimmerman incident.  The most important parallel is that by *inviting* me into their house, Dick and Jane put themselves in position to legally kill me under at least two Texas laws--Stand Your Ground and the Castle Doctrine.  If my criminal check had come back with any problems--perhaps a bench warrant for a traffic ticket or a random mistake--Dick and Jane could easily have claimed to have been frightened.  Their background check system does not indicate the offense that makes someone fail the check.  Dick and Jane would have assumed I was a potentially violent criminal.  Because I was already in their home, they could claim to fear for their lives and their children's lives (who were home as well).  They could have pulled the gun on me as a means of defending their home *OR* just their property.  They would have had legal protections if, after pulling the gun on me, I made any moves to resist being imprisoned and held at gunpoint by these strangers.  

Several times since the background check, I have thought about the fact that the smallest typo might have resulted in Dick and Jane legally murdering me last week.

The Ghettosburg Address*


Four hundred and one half dozen years ago, invaders brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived through theft and slavery, and dedicated to the proposition that white men are superior. 

Since that time, we have been engaged in a one-sided civil war, testing whether that nation, or any other so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure.  The question before us being the oldest of humanity: can ill-gotten power sustain an oppressive regime or must that oppressor fall under the weight of contradictions generated at its birth and forever held in its bosom?  The entire continent is thus a battlefield of that war.  We are now all forced, by innumerable events—formal and informal; interpersonal and systemic—to recognize and officially acknowledge that this land is one on which only one ideal can live.  After centuries of denial, it is altogether fitting and proper—indeed imperative—that we should do this. 

But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground because most of us have no legitimate authority here and precious few of its rightful inheritors survive to claim it.  The brave men and women, past and present, who struggle here, have consecrated it far above our power to add or detract.  The globe is forever changed by the events that occurred over here over these centuries, but it may someday recover the peace that was upset here. 

In a somber yet hopeful spirit, it is for us the living to reflect upon and then forever choose our position in this war—to side with white supremacy or the equality of peoples.  And then to fight will all vigor, recognizing, as our ancestors did, that this war cannot end but in the complete and final defeat of one or the other ideal.  We see now, as our ancestors did, that the realization of either ideal excludes the possibility of the other, both by definition and its necessarily complete consumption of the energies and institutions of any people.  We see now, as our ancestors did, that both ideals require more than articulation; that both require instantiation and that such instantiation is the eternal damnation of the other. 

Therefore, it is for us to be here dedicated to the great task inherited by each of us and remaining before us all—that from this reflection we take increased devotion to the war that defines this land—that we highly resolve that injustice shall not perpetually reign—that this nation shall finally give birth to freedom—and that no matter the costs—equality of all people, defined by oppressed peoples, ensuring justice for all people, shall soon be realized upon this earth. 


*aka "The Sanford, FL Address" following George Zimmerman's acquittal for murdering Trayvon Martin

** Lincoln's speech is here.  

*** This is a first draft, written to process this highly emotional, serious, and political moment.  Comments and edits are welcome.  

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

My Life in Republicanville - 2

This exchange occurred two days ago.  A really nice white 20 yr old man was making small talk as he helped me back to my car...

White Kid: Have you played Spartacus?
Me: No. I'm not into video games. 
WK: It's super cool. You can buy slaves and fight with them!
Me: 😒. [Sad, blank face]
WK: You can buy up to 8 slaves and fight them. 
Me: 😑. [blank stare]  .. So you can fight with a bunch of people. 
WK: Yeah!


I'm pretty sure he never caught the irony/insult.