In light of last night's Democratic primary victory in South Carolina by Senator Barack Obama, I thought I'd post a link to a New York Times interview with Obama's sister, Maya Soetoro-Ng (click here).
Things are really heating up for both parties as they approach Super Tuesday. Honestly, I can't remember things being so tight or so exciting going into any national election. I hope things don't also get too ugly.
I also think it's interesting that Barack Obama, while self-identifying as a black man, is also self-revealing about his mixed-race/transnational/transracial background. And it makes me wonder...because the truth is, most people are "mixed"--if you don't just buy into the purity of the American racial pentagram (white-black-Asian-Latino-Native American) and if you especially realize that most white and black Americans who are 4th and 5th generation and above have some inter-mixture in their families, then really, there are probably all sorts of tangled family lines in Clinton, Edwards, McCain, Romney and Huckabee's family trees (should I also mention Rudy, although does anyone think he's really in it anymore?).
Wouldn't it be great if, as a way to get beyond the ugliness of the "racialized/racist" atmosphere of these primaries we could get all candidates in both parties to talk frankly and candidly about the mixed race nature of their own family trees....Who wouldn't love to hear those tales told...but yes, that'd happen as quickly as our sitting administration admitting that "Woops" we made a mistake--never should have invaded...so sorry...we messed up. Our bad.
[June 24, 2008--Addition: For those of you wanting more information on Maya Soetoro-Ng, you can see this post from March 15, 2008, which includes a video that Soetoro-Ng made for her brother's campaign and a New York Times article about their mother Stanly-Ann Dunham]
Showing posts with label politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label politics. Show all posts
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Golf and the Environment
I'm headed out to South Carolina tomorrow for the biennial Association for the Study of Literature and the Environment conference. I'm also headed out to visit old family friends who live in Greenville, SC to play a round of golf at Furman University. I'll be teeing off on Thursday afternoon and then delivering my conference paper Friday afternoon, with a 2 day post-conference trip (sponsored by ASLE) at the Penn Center in Beaufort, SC, an institute dedicated to the preservation and study of the culture of the Gullah people and the Sea Islands.
And, of course, this is also Father's day weekend, but perhaps more importantly for all the rabid golf fans in the world, it's the U.S. Open (opening round on Thursday). And I will be at a conference for the majority of the trip, unable to excuse myself to catch the final pairs walk the fairways because this is a literature and the environment conference--and I have a feeling that there will not be many rabid golf fans among the eco-critical group I'll be joining. Because, lets face it, golf is a problematic sport.
Why is golf problematic? Aside from the people who just don't get it, ie: those who feel that watching golf on tv is like watching paint dry or those who just don't see the appeal of hitting a little white ball with a big metal stick, there are the politics of golf which are problematic.
In fact, it's the associations I had with golf that kept me from playing it for quite a while:
*elitist
*racist
*sexist
*classist (sort've goes with elitist, but I mean this in the economic rather than simply status sense)
*homophobic (some would argue that this isn't so much the case on the women's tour, but I wouldn't be so sure and it sure is a problem on the mens)
*environmentally unfriendly (water, pesticides, land use--not a good combo for an eco friendly game)
*too much equipment
*too long (a full round of 18 holes generally takes about 4 hours)
Why have I converted? Why do I profess to loving golf--to saying I would play every day if I had the time and the money?
To be honest, I'm not exactly sure. Except that there is something about me and the ball--me and the greens, walking the course (I prefer to walk whenever I can), me just challenging me--the meditative quality--that euphoria when you have hit the ball in just the right way, a combination of skill and luck, but I think mostly luck. It's just magic. It's one of the best feelings to hear the "thwack" of a ball off the tee and to see it go straight and true down the fairway. Even if (and when) I tank the next fairway shot. Or muff the chip. Or 3 (or even 4) putt on the green, that tee shot still lingers, and a good round of golf, for me, is having 1 good shot per round: a good driver, a good fairway wood or iron, a good chip, and a good putt. If I have 4 good hits, I feel it was a good day. And I don't keep score. I move balls from a bad lie. I take extra shots if no one is behind me and it's a slow day. I take drops at will. I just don't worry about the score. I just play. Thus, I have fun.
Do I wish things would change about golf? Absolutely. There is much that I wish were different about golf, the culture of golf. That it was less sexist, lets just start there. That it wasn't so privileged--perhaps that should be #1 on the list. That it was more affordable, took up less resources, was more egalitarian, absolutely. But I have to say that I have been surprised by how friendly I have found people to be on golf courses. And I have been surprised at how diverse the golfers are at my very favorite local course, a semi-public one in which you can play for $12 after 3pm at the twilight rate, making it the best golf deal in town.
I suppose I could list Tiger Woods and Michelle Wie and the host of Asian American and Asian golfers who are changing the scenery of golf, racially speaking. But we're still talking about very small numbers and we're still talking about a very elite, very privileged set. The inequity surrounding this game (or sport, depending on your bent) is not compensated by these few faces (and isn't it appalling that after a decade, Tiger is still the only professional black-Asian golfer on the PGA circuit? Where are the young black and Asian, or blackasian golfers he was meant to inspire?).
But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't really looking forward to the golf tomorrow. Who would have thought a progressive-liberal professor of Asian American literature would be looking forward to playing golf at Furman University in South Carolina. Go figure.
And, of course, this is also Father's day weekend, but perhaps more importantly for all the rabid golf fans in the world, it's the U.S. Open (opening round on Thursday). And I will be at a conference for the majority of the trip, unable to excuse myself to catch the final pairs walk the fairways because this is a literature and the environment conference--and I have a feeling that there will not be many rabid golf fans among the eco-critical group I'll be joining. Because, lets face it, golf is a problematic sport.
Why is golf problematic? Aside from the people who just don't get it, ie: those who feel that watching golf on tv is like watching paint dry or those who just don't see the appeal of hitting a little white ball with a big metal stick, there are the politics of golf which are problematic.
In fact, it's the associations I had with golf that kept me from playing it for quite a while:
*elitist
*racist
*sexist
*classist (sort've goes with elitist, but I mean this in the economic rather than simply status sense)
*homophobic (some would argue that this isn't so much the case on the women's tour, but I wouldn't be so sure and it sure is a problem on the mens)
*environmentally unfriendly (water, pesticides, land use--not a good combo for an eco friendly game)
*too much equipment
*too long (a full round of 18 holes generally takes about 4 hours)
Why have I converted? Why do I profess to loving golf--to saying I would play every day if I had the time and the money?
To be honest, I'm not exactly sure. Except that there is something about me and the ball--me and the greens, walking the course (I prefer to walk whenever I can), me just challenging me--the meditative quality--that euphoria when you have hit the ball in just the right way, a combination of skill and luck, but I think mostly luck. It's just magic. It's one of the best feelings to hear the "thwack" of a ball off the tee and to see it go straight and true down the fairway. Even if (and when) I tank the next fairway shot. Or muff the chip. Or 3 (or even 4) putt on the green, that tee shot still lingers, and a good round of golf, for me, is having 1 good shot per round: a good driver, a good fairway wood or iron, a good chip, and a good putt. If I have 4 good hits, I feel it was a good day. And I don't keep score. I move balls from a bad lie. I take extra shots if no one is behind me and it's a slow day. I take drops at will. I just don't worry about the score. I just play. Thus, I have fun.
Do I wish things would change about golf? Absolutely. There is much that I wish were different about golf, the culture of golf. That it was less sexist, lets just start there. That it wasn't so privileged--perhaps that should be #1 on the list. That it was more affordable, took up less resources, was more egalitarian, absolutely. But I have to say that I have been surprised by how friendly I have found people to be on golf courses. And I have been surprised at how diverse the golfers are at my very favorite local course, a semi-public one in which you can play for $12 after 3pm at the twilight rate, making it the best golf deal in town.
I suppose I could list Tiger Woods and Michelle Wie and the host of Asian American and Asian golfers who are changing the scenery of golf, racially speaking. But we're still talking about very small numbers and we're still talking about a very elite, very privileged set. The inequity surrounding this game (or sport, depending on your bent) is not compensated by these few faces (and isn't it appalling that after a decade, Tiger is still the only professional black-Asian golfer on the PGA circuit? Where are the young black and Asian, or blackasian golfers he was meant to inspire?).
But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't really looking forward to the golf tomorrow. Who would have thought a progressive-liberal professor of Asian American literature would be looking forward to playing golf at Furman University in South Carolina. Go figure.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Walk for Barack
This weekend I walked for Barack. Well, more specifically, I volunteered to go canvassing, door-to-door, on behalf of the Obama '08 presidential campaign. Obama's HQ called June 9 a national "Walk for Change" day--one in which thousands of Obama supporters would talk to their neighbors about the changes they wanted to see in the U.S. and how Obama's plans, most specifically related to healthcare and the war in Iraq, could be part of this national movement of changing the way politics are currently being done.
I have to admit that when I realized exactly what I would be doing--knocking on doors and actually distributing leaflets -- I balked. I HATE when people come to my door and suspect that most people feel the same way. On the other hand, I had already committed to this event (it was being sponsored, locally, by a woman who asked people to do an hour's committment, and how can you say no to an hour of your life for a good cause?), and more importantly, I had decided that Obama was the candidate I wanted to support, both for this presidential election but overall, I just believe that he's someone who has a vision and a plan, and whether it's this election or another, he's someone I feel is committed to changing the way we do politics in the U.S. (and he has a vision I share, I suppose I should say more directly).
Anyway, I did it. I figured it would be a good learning experience for me to do this--I had never canvassed for any cause, political or otherwise, and I also thought it would give me empathy for those who do go door to door (in my neighborhood it's generally people with environmental causes and sometimes breast cancer advocacy). I paired up with another volunteer, a young woman who was a Southern U. graduate, married, and mother of 2 children. We hit it off and found a good stride in our approach to people--namely, we didn't follow the "script" of the campaign, although we didn't go into people's homes either (a safety precaution on everyone's part and a wise one), and we were friendly and brief--but we also lingered if people wanted to talk.
What I discovered about this particular neighborhood (and everything is local so I don't want to make larger generalizations about all of America or "the South") is that people were exceedingly friendly. I mean sure, there were some people who were clearly annoyed. But at least two homes offered us water, everyone took our literature (everyone who answered their doors that is), no one was rude, and one guy even signed up and took another pamphlet to sign up his friend. I also have to say that doing this canvassing was another reminder about labels and stereotypes. I mean, the guy we signed up did not look like someone I would have thought would be as enthusiastic as he was for Obama. He answered the door half-clothed and without shoes--he had on a pair of camoflauge shorts, pulled low over a pair of white BVDs, an inch of which was clearly visible. His bare chest revealed a large tattoo on a shoulder and arm, and his race (white) and age (early 20s) suggested college student. Yet it turned out that he was older than he looked (something I get because people often mistake me for being a good 8 years younger than I am), he was a business owner, married with children, and believed in progressive politics.
And right after we signed up this guy, the next home we went to, a middle-aged African American man with his wife and father, expressed skepticism that America was ready to elect a black president. When my partner and I introduced ourselves as canvassing on behalf of Obama, the man gave a cynical snort but also smiled and invited us into his open garage (by the way, it was SOOOO HOT--about 92 degrees in the shade) and we talked to him, and his family, for a bit about why we were supporting Obama and listened to his doubts about the country's racial openness.
It's a skepticism I share. I don't know if the average American voter wants to elect a black president. But what I told this gentleman and what I believe, and what got me out on a 92 degree afternoon, knocking on people's doors, volunteering for the first time in my life to canvass for a cause or a person--what I believe in my heart of hearts is that I want to and need to believe that we, as a nation, are ready to move ahead in terms of racial politics. That we want to learn from the past and we want to learn from each other. And while I know that racism will not be erased so easily by a few ethnic studies classes or multicultural fairs, I also know that I am supporting Obama because I have to have faith. I have to believe and to envision the country I want rather than the country I suspect I have. I have to actually practice what I preach rather than bemoaning the state of race and politics that we currently live in. I'm not trying to sound either overly optimistic nor naive; rather, what other choice do I have? I think the time of talking is done and there needs to be a time for action, and I don't propose that an hour of walking and knocking on people's doors meant that I changed the next election or convinced anyone beyond what they were already thinking. But it was important for me. And maybe, just maybe, the example of someone going door to door on one of the hottest days of the summer, maybe that will make one of these 25 households we actually spoke to pause and think that change can happen.
I have to admit that when I realized exactly what I would be doing--knocking on doors and actually distributing leaflets -- I balked. I HATE when people come to my door and suspect that most people feel the same way. On the other hand, I had already committed to this event (it was being sponsored, locally, by a woman who asked people to do an hour's committment, and how can you say no to an hour of your life for a good cause?), and more importantly, I had decided that Obama was the candidate I wanted to support, both for this presidential election but overall, I just believe that he's someone who has a vision and a plan, and whether it's this election or another, he's someone I feel is committed to changing the way we do politics in the U.S. (and he has a vision I share, I suppose I should say more directly).
Anyway, I did it. I figured it would be a good learning experience for me to do this--I had never canvassed for any cause, political or otherwise, and I also thought it would give me empathy for those who do go door to door (in my neighborhood it's generally people with environmental causes and sometimes breast cancer advocacy). I paired up with another volunteer, a young woman who was a Southern U. graduate, married, and mother of 2 children. We hit it off and found a good stride in our approach to people--namely, we didn't follow the "script" of the campaign, although we didn't go into people's homes either (a safety precaution on everyone's part and a wise one), and we were friendly and brief--but we also lingered if people wanted to talk.
What I discovered about this particular neighborhood (and everything is local so I don't want to make larger generalizations about all of America or "the South") is that people were exceedingly friendly. I mean sure, there were some people who were clearly annoyed. But at least two homes offered us water, everyone took our literature (everyone who answered their doors that is), no one was rude, and one guy even signed up and took another pamphlet to sign up his friend. I also have to say that doing this canvassing was another reminder about labels and stereotypes. I mean, the guy we signed up did not look like someone I would have thought would be as enthusiastic as he was for Obama. He answered the door half-clothed and without shoes--he had on a pair of camoflauge shorts, pulled low over a pair of white BVDs, an inch of which was clearly visible. His bare chest revealed a large tattoo on a shoulder and arm, and his race (white) and age (early 20s) suggested college student. Yet it turned out that he was older than he looked (something I get because people often mistake me for being a good 8 years younger than I am), he was a business owner, married with children, and believed in progressive politics.
And right after we signed up this guy, the next home we went to, a middle-aged African American man with his wife and father, expressed skepticism that America was ready to elect a black president. When my partner and I introduced ourselves as canvassing on behalf of Obama, the man gave a cynical snort but also smiled and invited us into his open garage (by the way, it was SOOOO HOT--about 92 degrees in the shade) and we talked to him, and his family, for a bit about why we were supporting Obama and listened to his doubts about the country's racial openness.
It's a skepticism I share. I don't know if the average American voter wants to elect a black president. But what I told this gentleman and what I believe, and what got me out on a 92 degree afternoon, knocking on people's doors, volunteering for the first time in my life to canvass for a cause or a person--what I believe in my heart of hearts is that I want to and need to believe that we, as a nation, are ready to move ahead in terms of racial politics. That we want to learn from the past and we want to learn from each other. And while I know that racism will not be erased so easily by a few ethnic studies classes or multicultural fairs, I also know that I am supporting Obama because I have to have faith. I have to believe and to envision the country I want rather than the country I suspect I have. I have to actually practice what I preach rather than bemoaning the state of race and politics that we currently live in. I'm not trying to sound either overly optimistic nor naive; rather, what other choice do I have? I think the time of talking is done and there needs to be a time for action, and I don't propose that an hour of walking and knocking on people's doors meant that I changed the next election or convinced anyone beyond what they were already thinking. But it was important for me. And maybe, just maybe, the example of someone going door to door on one of the hottest days of the summer, maybe that will make one of these 25 households we actually spoke to pause and think that change can happen.
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