Thursday, October 27, 2005
Thinking About Racism, Or The Lack Thereof
I was born in Mississippi, at Ole Miss, in 1957 -- before James Meredith. Because of my family, I have returned to Mississippi often throughout my life -- still do. I have seen racism at its very ugliest. For me "Whites Only" signs are not something I have read about -- I have seen them. Let's not even talk about the time I wandered up to the "wrong" water fountain.
For whatever reason it galled me from my first recognition. Maybe it's because my mother worked while my father was in law school and I was cared for by a black woman for the first 6 months of my life, I don't know, but I never got it, and I paid for it once or twice in some very ugly dinner conversation when visiting family, eventually I learned to seethe quietly for the sake of family harmony. Thank God times have changed.
I have experienced racism twice in my life. One was in an all white context involving a Jewish client. It got ugly, but reason eventually prevailed. The other experience was just this week. It ended in truce, but not resolution.
Given my still open wound, this WSJ piece by Shelby Steele, was not just good, it sang to me.
At six years of age, I was given a beautiful dream. It's not really my dream, it's a dream for others, others that I love. It's a dream that one day the dreamcaster's children will be judged
The speech that cast the dream had a metaphor that I shall borrow. The funds are now available, the account is now full. All that remains is for the check to be cashed. But sadly, so many would rather hold the check stamped "NSF" than take it to the bank for another try.
The hurt I felt most from jury duty was not the sting of the accusation made at me, but the the empathetic pain I felt for those that did not realize what was available to them.
Please, please, please cash the check, it will clear.
For whatever reason it galled me from my first recognition. Maybe it's because my mother worked while my father was in law school and I was cared for by a black woman for the first 6 months of my life, I don't know, but I never got it, and I paid for it once or twice in some very ugly dinner conversation when visiting family, eventually I learned to seethe quietly for the sake of family harmony. Thank God times have changed.
I have experienced racism twice in my life. One was in an all white context involving a Jewish client. It got ugly, but reason eventually prevailed. The other experience was just this week. It ended in truce, but not resolution.
Given my still open wound, this WSJ piece by Shelby Steele, was not just good, it sang to me.
The problem here is obvious: The black shame of inferiority (the result of oppression, not genetics) cannot be overcome with anything less than a heroic assumption of responsibility on the part of black Americans. In fact, true equality--an actual parity of wealth and ability between the races--is now largely a black responsibility. This may not be fair, but historical fairness--of the sort that resolves history's injustices--is an idealism that now plagues black America by making black responsibility seem an injustice.That last sentence really describes the sadness I felt as I heard people argue, in essence, the the defendant did not commit a crime because such things just are not a crime for black people, even if they are a crime for whites. (BTW, for other great comments on this Steele piece, see this post at Between Two Worlds.)
At six years of age, I was given a beautiful dream. It's not really my dream, it's a dream for others, others that I love. It's a dream that one day the dreamcaster's children will be judged
not by the color of thier skin, but by the content of their character.I have been frustrated to tears these last days. Frustrated because I am without ability to move the dream any closer to reality.
The speech that cast the dream had a metaphor that I shall borrow. The funds are now available, the account is now full. All that remains is for the check to be cashed. But sadly, so many would rather hold the check stamped "NSF" than take it to the bank for another try.
The hurt I felt most from jury duty was not the sting of the accusation made at me, but the the empathetic pain I felt for those that did not realize what was available to them.
Please, please, please cash the check, it will clear.
