Innocence Stolen

This recent shooting of the innocent and incredibly young Trayvon Martin has opened up so many doors of discussion and unearthed many things that have been percolating under years and years of silence. One of my favorite things to emerge from these devastatingly real unfair, shameful, absurd murderous events, in this case race is discussed in terms of the Kony video that was posted on every facebook wall from Beijing to Sacramento is this piece by Teju Cole, who pointedly puts everything I've been thinking about race, about injustice and about the general mentality that's been scarily spreading like rapid-fire. And this guy put all of that in a beautifully written, comprehensible article for The Atlantic. It says all the things no one wants to admit and forces Americans to really come to terms with history and the present. I can't emphasize the importance of this article enough, and cannot be happier it was written.




I'm out.

Race Riot

There's this whimsical, unrealistic illusion in society that race relations have magically disappeared and that everyone observes tact when speaking about their opinions on the subject. No. That no is emphatic with a touch of misery and disappointment. I realize that people are raised differently, exposed to different or not so different things and I don't hold that against anybody. You can't change where you grew up, however, I would hope that after 25+ years in the world there would be some kind of conversation with yourself about how to approach certain heated topics and situations. I would hope there would be some level of consideration when speaking so confidently about such a topic. Nay. There is nary a stutter when I hear off-hand comments carelessly spouted after two beers. I'm tired of it. I'm exhausted from all the excuses I formulate after speaking candidly with said people. I'm annoyed that people feel it's okay to say certain things in front of me assuming I won't mind or care. I'm tired of writing about these occasions so consider this the LAST POST I will write on the subject. My fingers are cramping over these keys, trying to get this shit out for the lasssttt timeeee. Alright, you and I both know that will not be the case, but at least for a while I will cease. No more. For a while. And now to cheer you up... my girl Ri Ri. Yes, it is ok that your jaw has hit the floor. I too am amazed at my seamless turnaround. All it takes is one video directed by Melina Matsoukas featuring Calvin Harris for me to drink the cool-aid. Man, I'm all up in it.



I'm out.

Spokesperson

I'm not sure if I've ever written about this but I'm pretty sure I haven't. Last night I went out with some coworkers and awaited to hear comments I knew were brewing behind curious eyes. Bar settings seem to be a breeding ground for socially-charged conversation that is normally a little uncomfortable/awkward? The conversation got interesting when we started talking about guys, what type of guys we were into and other fun dating-related subject matter. When I tell people my "preference"it doesn't seem to be met with too much surprise, but it is met with unbridled assumption that I somehow hate myself or think I'm disconnected from my heritage, which is I assure you not the case. It's an understandable conclusion to draw, but it simply is not true. However, this was not what got under my skin. What really irritated me is the notion that every single black person is a spokesperson for their entire race. I was asked why a lot of gay black men prefer white men. Um. Ok. I have no idea. Number one I am not a gay black man, but even if I was there is no possible way for me to conceive the thoughts and actions of all gay black men no matter how smart or informed I thought I was. I honestly enjoy talking about race, but in a situation like this with a presumptuous (unintentional I know) leaning it's hard to have a desire to continue the discourse.

I had a conversation with one of my friends about how the world perceives me and my ongoing battle with my indifference towards the world's perception. I am me. I can be no one else and considering how short life is I don't want to be anyone else. It's too hard to conform when conforming means losing yourself. And I'm not saying by any means that I'm "different" or "better" in any way shape or form. All I'm saying is that I can be nothing else or more than who I am. It's devastating to realize that individuality is a privilege- a privilege denied to many, many people. My face is suppose to represent every African American person (not even just women apparently) without question or doubt. My utterances carry the weight of my entire race- my history, my ancestors, strangers, people I know, people I'll never meet, people who hate me, people who love me, etc. You get it. Imagine having THAT much pressure on yourself every day you present yourself to the world.

I forget not everyone took race/sociology classes in college and aren't aware of certain societal constructs, rules, stupid "normalcy" that we're taught oh so subtlety. So I am by no means mad at this person for asking me such a loaded question, more disheartened by the reality that most people see nothing wrong with asking questions like that in mixed company... or ever really.

And as a tribute to the late Amy Winehouse...

RIP girl.





I'm out.

Fist Pump Racists Away

So it seems no matter where I go, no matter what ideological differences I think exists amongst "sub cultures," everyone seems to be the same when it comes to race. Last night I was in line for the bathroom at Splash (a gay bar in the city, near Union Square) and was bombarded by stupidity from this guy who announced he was from DC. After complimenting me sweetly he went on a nonsensical tirade about how he was a "liberal humanitarian" and how he enjoyed meeting a "sistah" in DC, which turned out to be Maya Angelou. The appalling way in which he told me about his love for notable black women was enough to make me throw up all the food I ingested that day. I stood there, staring at him in disbelief, wishing I had enough strength to tell him how incredibly ignorant he was being, but alas, I did not. Instead this guy I had been secretly judging because he looked and sounded like he rolled out of an episode of Jersey Shore saved me. He had been listening to this drunken, bumbling idiot and thankfully interjected, asking the guy to guess his heritage, to which the a-hole strangely responded, "She's my assistant." I theatrically shook my head "no" to let him know I was not affiliated with this moron. Jersey Shore asked me if the guy was bothering me and I mouthed yes with a kind of desperation I never knew I had. He then somehow got the guy to go away by continuously asking him to guess his racial identity. At this point, I too was trying to resolve the question, in my head. Eventually the drunken fool got the clue and stumbled out of the bathroom. Jersey Shore told me I was beautiful and that I didn't need to take that insolence from anyone. He then whipped a comb out and fixed his hair, blew a kiss at the mirror and walked out. Okay, that last part didn't happen, but I imagined it in my head. I wish he did do that. He just walked away with an air of knowing and understanding. He was like Buddha. What a guy.

In case you were wondering, Jersey Shore was Asian.


I'm out.

OMG IT'S THE 1950s

For many months, I mean, years, mainstream media has been an overwhelming disappointment in my eyes. Convincing me that not one single journalist can uphold the ethics and principles of journalism, I had but given up on watching the news and drifted selfishly into an ignorant oblivion. On occasion I would peruse the NYtimes when events were happening around me that I wanted to better understand, like the rise of the tea party and the embarrassing remarks about the mosque being built in the city. Recently, I have decided not only is this "blissful ignorance" unhealthy, but it's a detriment to what it is to be an American. All over the globe Americans are seen as being brainless, self-absorbed cretins and I was feeding right into that prejudice. Although, today a few articles I read reminded me of my aversion to media. Last night I had a conversation with some friends about where politics in this country are going and who/what political thought is at the forefront. One friend believed the country was mostly moderate and the media was exploiting only the two extremes in this country for ratings and possibly a hidden agenda. However, I don't have such a hopeful view of my fellow Americans, no. The Tea Party has brought me to my knees with their exhausting dogmatic claims and racist overtones. It reminds me of an era in this country where xenophobia was a spreading disease that encompassed many "American" minds.

image from newamericanmedia.org
These last few months have been a reprise of history and today I read a few articles that made my stomach queasy, because of the word choice used in them and an underlying mockery of race relations. This article in the NY times about black democrats losing their power after the recent election: Election Diminishes New York’s Black Democrats. was questionable. Though some of it factual, the way it's presented sounds cult-like and that decisions were made solely based on race and not on general equality. This other article is what really made me want to write today: Proficiency of Black Students Is Found to Be Far Lower Than Expected There are ways articles like this should be written. There are obvious sociological implications as to why this deficiency exists. In the beginning of the article Gabriel insists it may not be because of finances due to poor white boys still fairing better in these proficiency tests than poor black boys. It doesn't take a scholar to know that the world looks at these two types of boys differently therefore their family's income level obviously cannot be the only reason for their educational differences. Though he (barely) touches on it, Gabriel does allude to the necessity of having a conversation about the myriad factors of why whites and blacks have different educational backgrounds and histories. DUH! Alright. My rant's over. I gotta get to work.

I'm out.