Why do you want to know where I'm from?

Recently I was asked to give a talk about race and diversity, specifically to talk about my own experiences as a woman of color in higher education. So I drew upon some of the themes that I've discussed previously in this blog--about the definition of race as we know it (in terms of the "racial pentagram"), the difference between "institutional racism" versus "individual discrimination," about my own identification as an Asian American woman, and about the question that every Asian American person I know has been asked at least once (and usually many times), namely: "Where are you from?" with the implication, oftentimes, that a person isn't looking for your current home address; rather, what the questioner wants to know is what your ethnic ancestry is.

The talk was really fun--and the question and answer period, which I used more as a general discussion, was the best part, because it was an opportunity for people to talk to one another, albeit through me. In other words, I didn't want to just stand up as the "race expert" because I think everyone has their own experiences, and hence expertise, when it comes to race. And really, after one person has been talking for 40 minutes, the last thing anyone wants is to keep hearing the same voice answer questions.

However, one very good question was posed to me directly. In response to an anecdote I had told about the Staples guy (click here) who insisted I had to be from Hawaii because I looked Hawaiian and who kept wanting to know where I was from, a person in the audience asked this question:

"Is there any kind of question that you would prefer to be asked with respect to your background/ethnicity? Was there a way that the man who insisted you were Hawaiian could have asked his question without offending you?"

I thought about it for a moment and then did the teacherly thing that I sometimes do, which is to flip it around and look at it from a different perspective. Because the thing is, there's nothing wrong in asking someone where they are from or, if it is the ethnic ancestry you are interested in, there's nothing wrong in directly asking someone, "What is your ethnic ancestry?" I've done it recently with a student in my class who appears to be South Asian but had indicated through different references that he might have Indian heritage, and so during office hours I asked him directly what his ethnic heritage was because it was in relationship to a conversation we were having about people taking off their shoes before entering one's home--and it was a point of common cultural practice between Indian households and Chinese households (and I dare say a number of other cultures do this as well, like Korean and Kenyan).

So what I said to the questioner was that it wasn't so much how it was asked or what was asked but it is the motivation behind the question that I'm interested in. For example, a nurse who was inserting a needle in my arm during a blood drive once asked what my nationality was. I am not sure if it was the tone of her voice or the fact that she was about to stick a needle into my arm, but I didn't get defensive or reactionary (for example, I didn't scream I AM AN AMERICAN CITIZEN IF YOU WANT TO KNOW MY ETHNIC HERITAGE THEN JUST ASK) instead I simply said "I identify as a Chinese American." She got very excited and started to tell me about her Chinese American granddaughter--and at first I wasn't sure if her son had married a Chinese/Chinese American woman or had adopted a girl from China, but it soon came out that it was the latter and that her Chinese American grandchild was always asking her grandmother (who worked for the Red Cross) if she met any Chinese people in the largely homogenous (read white) area of Western MA where we were having this conversation.

In other words, for the white American Red Cross nurse, her motivation in asking me my nationality was very personal and rooted in finding resources for her granddaughter in discovering her ethnic heritage. For the Staples guy? It seems as if his motivation was simply to tell me I should get to know my culture better and to show off HIS expert knowledge about China and Chinese society. And quite frankly, I have all the patience in the world for the nurse and none whatsoever for the "China expert." Because the nurse seems to desire a true interaction and a conversation whereas the China expert seems to want to talk at me rather than with me.

Post convention thoughts

I teach in an English department. I know the power of narrative, how persuasive the right combination of words can be. And I study popular culture and am aware of the strength of certain images and symbols. Politics, to a large degree, is about rhetoric and spin: it is about persuasion.

A LOT has been written about Sarah Palin, about what she does and doesn't do for the Republican ticket, about her being a heart beat away from the presidency and what her selection says about McCain's judgment in choosing her.

I was going to do an entire post about Sarah Palin and about the RNC, and comparing the RNC to the DNC, but there are so many other bloggers and media outlets who have already done this work (I'll embed some links within my post--it's nice, because essentially these posts are ones I would have written, perhaps in a different style/format, but they tackle the topics I would have tackled).

What I want to end the week with now, and the two solid weeks of being glued, alternately, to CSPAN, CNN, and MSNBC, are a few thoughts about what I would like to see happen (I know this probably *won't* happen, but I thought I'd try to be hopeful and stay positive, because there's just TOO MUCH NEGATIVITY, and I'm tired of the sniping).

*I would like to see an end to coded racist language against the Obama family, in particular, and African Americans, in general. I'd like to see an end to coded racist language against all people, but the truth is, in my opinion, African Americans get the brunt of this more than other racial groups in the U.S. The word "uppity" should only be used, in a vernacular fashion, to refer to objects that are placed beyond someone's reach, as in "Can you please grab that book for me? It's too uppity for me to get it." The word "uppity" SHOULD NOT be applied to a U.S. Senator who is also the Democratic candidate running for President, and by the way, is the first African American representing a major political party, as in this quote by Georgia Republican Rep. Lynn Westmoreland:

"Just from what little I’ve seen of her and Mr. Obama, Sen. Obama, they're a member of an elitist-class individual that thinks that they're uppity," Westmoreland said. Asked to clarify that he used the word “uppity,” Westmoreland said, “Uppity, yeah.”

*I would like to see an end to people equating Islam with terrorism or Muslim culture/references with Islamic terrorism. Here's a choice quote from another U.S. congressman:

"Rep. Steve King (R-Iowa) said that Obama's middle name – Hussein – is relevant to the public discourse surrounding his candidacy, saying in March that if Obama were elected, 'Then the radical Islamists, the al Qaeda, the radical Islamists and their supporters, will be dancing in the streets in greater numbers than they did on Sept. 11 because they will declare victory in this War on Terror."

*I would like both parties held accountable for telling the truth, about themselves and about their opponents. A great website to check out is FactCheck.org, which keeps track of both parties and holds both campaigns accountable for their misleading statements or outright lies.

And while The Daily Show is probably not as unbiased as the above site, their juxtaposition of key political figures and pundits is worth noting as we move forward in the final push to November 4:



*I do think that the families and particularly the children of politicians and public figures should be off limits. At the same time, I think that political candidates should not try to make political hay out of their children.

*I think people should be more respectful in their critique of Sarah Palin. Although I find the Republican call of "sexism" a bit hard to swallow in light of the treatment that Hillary Clinton has received during the last year and a half (and really the last twelve years because she got a lot of disrespect based on gender during the Clinton administration), I do think that there's quite a bit of sexist rhetoric, especially in the blogosphere. And if people want to critique Palin, they can do so without using sexist language. Critiquing her, just like critiquing any of her male peers, is fair game--having unfair gender expectations of her, is not.

*I would like people to recognize that women, just like men, are complex creatures. And that just because you are a woman does not mean that you can speak for all women or are in favor of what, politically, we refer to as "women's rights." Same thing goes for being African American--Barack Obama does not speak on behalf of all African Americans. He does not "represent" black American. He is not running for president of the American "black diaspora." He is running to be President of the United States.

*Having said that, I wish people would start to recognize the pervasiveness of racism and racist thought in this country--or perhaps conversely, how difficult it is to recognize white privilege and white supremacist thought. Notice I didn't say "racist people"--Jay Smooth already covered this a few months back. But I've had numerous conversations with friends who have older white parents who are struggling with their internalized racism--these are older white Democrats who have never voted Republican and don't plan to vote for McCain, but they balk at voting for a black man because the picture of Barack Obama and his family is NOT the picture they have of a first family. These are not bad people--and they have raised children who are liberal and progressive minded.

But really--THIS is the reason I teach what I teach, why I focus my research on race, and why I started a blog called Mixed Race America. Race is such a pervasive part of American culture/society/history/politics. It's large and amorphous, fluid and flexible. No one is ever "right" about race, and just when you think you've figured everything out, something changes, something happens, something erupts to blow your previous theory and conceptions, of race, right out of the water.

*And really, what it all boils down to, for me, about Obama and his historic candidacy and the issue of race are two lines from a Pat Parker poem:

"For the White Person who Wants to Know How to Be My Friend"
The first thing you do is to forget that i'm Black.
Second, you must never forget that i'm Black.

I like "Stuff White People Like"

There is a blog that is sweeping the nation. The LA Times has written about it. Kanye West put in a plug for it on his website. And I've received several links from friends telling me about

"Stuff White People Like"

Created by Christian Lander, a transplanted Canadian currently living in California, this blog is both satirical and smart about race. Because what Lander seems to be doing in this blog is to shine a light on whiteness--to talk about being "white" as a racial construction--to highlight that being "white" like being "Asian American" or "African American" or any of the other racial and ethnic permutations we can think of, has a set of cultural values and assumptions and stereotypes.

Although many of the comments have noted that the entries are oriented to a middle and upper-middle class background, and therefore aren't necessarily race-specific and should be called "Stuff Yuppies Like" or even if racially inflected, should be refined to "Stuff White Hipsters Like," Lander's point in creating "Stuff White People Like" was to call out the assumptions people have about what it's like to BE white--and part of the default to whiteness is an assumption about class--that if you are white you are middle class, college educated, and have certain cultural tastes.

(By the way, the comments are incredible--every post gets between 150-300 comments, and they range from people loving the site, both white and non-white commenters, to people who are offended by the site, both white and non-white commenters, to down-right racist and angry people who create their own "lists" of things "Black people like" which includes every egregious stereotype imaginable. This site has OBVIOUSLY hit a nerve!)

Lander was interviewed on "The Assimilated Negro" blog and you can read the interviews in two parts (Part 1 and Part 2). Be sure to check out the interview and this blog post--#81 "Graduate School" did hit home with me. Although I'm not white, I did identify with many of the things written about graduate school, especially a PhD program in English--this is my favorite quote:

"It is important to understand that a graduate degree does not make someone smart, so do not feel intimidated. They may have read more, but in no way does that make them smarter, more competent, or more likable than you."

Oh...it's so true.

Promoting more Asian American Artists

The New York Times has two articles prominently displaying two different Asian American artists involved in theater. Paul Chan, a video artist and political activist, recently staged performances of Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot in two different location in New Orleans--with a cast that came from a Harlem production of Godot that had made Hurricane Katrina and the breaking of the levees the central setting/theme of Beckett's work.

David Henry Hwang, most famously known for his play M. Butterfly, has a new production opening at The Public Theater called Yellowface, which blends fact and fiction in describing the central character D.H.H., a playwright who protests Jonathan Pryce's "yellowface" casting/performance as "The Engineer" in Miss Saigon and who struggles with the realization that, years after his Saigon protest, he has cast a white man as a lead in one of his Asian American plays because he believed the man was mixed-race.

For more on the Godot/Chan piece click here.

For more on the Yellowface/Hwang piece, click here.

It's an interesting coincidence that two Asian American artists are featured in the headlined sections of The New York Times and that both pieces discuss the intersections of race, politics, and art.

In particular, there is a quote in the Hwang piece that basically sums up the questions I've been struggling with lately regarding race and how to talk about race in my upcoming book project:

"[H]ow do you talk about the nuances of race, both the desire to get past race and the awareness that racism exists. How do you balance these two?"

How do you indeed...does anyone know?

Guillty Pleasures

We all have them--guilty pleasures. You know, the things you are embarrassed about liking. If you're a vegetarian, it'd be the occasional prime rib. If you're a feminist (like me) then you are embarrassed about receiving monthly issues of Glamour. Yes, I subscribe to Glamour. Now, here come all the caveats:

1) It's free. It was one of several options* I had in order to redeem miles that were about to expire through Northwest airlines (or Delta or American...I honestly can't remember now). [*It should be noted here that I did have options and so yes, this is why Glamour is a guilty pleasure--I chose it. I grew up reading discarded copies from my aunt, and of all the fluffy, women-focused magazines out there, it's the one I return to for my "fix" so to speak]

2) It's not that bad, in terms of negative body issues. I mean, yes, I just found an ad today about breast implants (YUCK!) and yes, there are plenty of skinny celebrities and a concentration on fashion and makeup that negatively contributes to skewed body images and consumerism. But, there are also some more intriguing things, like an attempt at feminism and global awareness by showing everyday women who are making a difference here and around the world--women who fight hunger in Columbia and female-genital circumcision and Mormon polygamy. And women who are educating others and being activists and who are trying to make the world a better place.

Now. All that being said, one of the things I find troubling about Glamour is the way in which it simultaneously tries to encourage racial diversity and sexuality while reinscribing both a racial and hetero normativity (yep, big words for a blog but what do you expect from an English professor?).

Case in point: the new Jake. "Jake" is a column written by a single guy who is supposed to give "the guy's point of view" for women--to chart his dating and relationship life, and when he finally does settle down, he passes the mantle onto the next "Jake." It's a column that has been running for the last 40 years, but for the first time, Glamour has allowed its readers to select the new "Jake," from 3 different candidates, which also means that for the first time, "Jake" will not be anonymous.

All 3 candidates were single white men. And the one who "won"--whom women voted for, was the most "guy" like or perhaps "dude" like of the 3. And I thought, what if the new Jake were black? Or self-identified as mixed race? Or identified as bi-sexual? Wouldn't that be amazing to push the boundaries of what we consider to be acceptable along a dating spectrum and a hierarchy of desirability? What if the new Jake were an Asian American man? Guess I'll just have to keep wishing and waiting.

Talking about race

Why is it so hard to talk about race? This may seem a naive/obvious/pointless question to ask, but I come back to it, again and again, when I find myself in situations where race is either the main issue or subtext or pretext of the issue at hand. And all of a sudden it's like there's the proverbial elephant in the room and no one wants to offend and everyone is well intentioned and no one wants to utter the "R" word (racist/racism) and so things get swept under the rug, or not, and people get tense and everyone wants to avoid the confrontation. And more likely than not, this discussion occurs among mixed groups of whites and non-whites, of people of color and non-people of color, and even among people of color and whites, points-of-view don't always adhere the way you think they will.

I'm thinking of a particular case-in-point, but professional courtesy as well as issues of confidentiality prevent me from giving particulars. Suffice it to say, the group in question are all highly educated, liberal minded, people, trained in critical thinking and dedicated in their respective activist causes. And yet, even in such a group of people there is a tendency to hide behind politeness and an unwillingness to probe further the real role of race and white privilege, in order not to offend or because people are well intentioned.

And I admit, I hold my tongue sometimes. Because tension is hard to deal with and everyone wants to be liked and respected and it's hard to be the sole person speaking truth to power, especially when there are things like pre-tenure review and politics of academia. But I also think that at heart, I sometimes hold my tongue, not only because I don't think it's an educational moment or because it's not politically expedient but because I don't want to offend--I am caught up in my gender role of compliant female, of quiet Asian American woman. And perhaps it's not gender or race, perhaps it really just is the desire not to be mired in conflict, not to create tension, to let sleeping dogs lie.

But in my classroom, I espouse and encourage my students to speak honestly about race, and I have made this my top pedagogical priority, because I think there are far too few places to speak honestly and openly about race, particularly in mixed-race settings.

I just feel discouraged over this particular professional incident, because it seems that if the best and brightest and most liberal in our midst can't come to the table to talk about race--if we continue to feel hemmed in by a need not to place blame or not to make people feel uncomfortable, how are we going to address the real issues of inequality, oppression, and racism?

North vs. South -- Part III

This is the last posting about why I prefer North Carolina to South Carolina, and I have to begin with a report I heard on NPR this afternoon that Raleigh, NC was listed as the third most desirable/livable city for African Americans, right behind Atlanta and Washington DC. And Charlotte was also in the Top Ten, with Greensboro, NC coming in at a close #11. Is this a reason for me to prefer North to South Carolina? Well, it certainly doesn't hurt.

Especially because of a comment that was made during a boat tour of the Sea Islands. The tour group was arranged as part of the post-conference ASLE trip to the Penn Center. I have to say that overall the trip was not what was I was expecting. There was a lack of leadership, for one, although I give credit to our guide, Steve, a Furman University professor, for trying to provide some cohesion and organization to our trip. However, the trip was really about the ecology of the area rather than the culture--and yet, it had been billed as a trip that would explore both the ecological and cultural aspects of the region, with an emphasis on educating us about the local Gullah people (made famous by Julie Dash's film Daughters of the Dust). Despite this billing, however, the Gullah portion was only about 2 hours worth of the whole trip.

But I digress.

We're on this 3 hour boat ride around the sea island wetlands/marshlands, and our tour guide and person driving the boat is giving us a local history of the area, the various plantations that were once a part of the landscape, and he mentions, casually, that they were occupied up until the time of the war of northern aggression. Wait, let me repeat that for you. In tones completely unironic and matter-of-fact he referred to the Civil War as THE WAR OF NORTHERN AGGRESSION. And, for anyone who understands the meaning of making this comment in the 21st century to a boat load of liberal, environmentally minded literature professors, 5 of whom are African American, well, lets just say that at that point, if I could have jumped ship, I would. The guide continued on with the history as if he had said nothing out of the ordinary, and I whispered to my friend Sofia that I felt like singing the Battle Hymn of the Republic, but she cautioned me to stay quiet--this was not an educational moment and this comment was made in the first half hour of the trip. With over 2 hours left, we wanted to return to shore, in tact, and so I remained silent (although largely because I couldn't quite remember the lyrics--only the chorus, and even then I was spotty about whether the line was "The Truth Keeps Marching On"--can't quite remember).

This comment came a day after I was at a bar, on my way to the post-conference trip, trying to catch up on my Tiger Watch--Day 3 of the US Open. I was drinking an Arnold Palmer (half lemonade, half ice tea) and a white couple in their 60s was also watching golf at the bar. The wife was chatty and friendly and struck up a conversation with me, asking what I was doing. When I explained that I was in town for a conference on literature and the environment, her husband snorted derisively and said, "I'm a logger!" to which I said "Oh" and then the bartender, a friendly guy, Darryl, said, "Did you cut down a lot of those big trees?" And Mr. Logger said, "Well, I'm retired now, but I didn't cut down the trees. I carried a gun." "Why a gun?" asked Darryl. "To use against all those people hugging those damn trees!" said Mr. Retired Logger.

All of this was said without irony. Without laughter. To goad.

To which I kept my eye on the TV screen and rooted for Tiger (at this point he was tied for the lead at 3+).

So that's that. I mean, in the scheme of things, these comments could have happened anywhere, and probably do. I know that racism is not confined to single regions of the U.S. and that even the most liberal among us can still have biases and prejudices. And I know that rudeness (which the ex-logger's comments certainly were--rude and uncourteous) could also happen anywhere. But I have been lulled into believing the stereotypes about Southern hospitality and gentility. Guess I'll have to rethink them.

But, I'll say this: it may not be representative of North Carolina, but I like my liberal slice of heaven, and I'd rather take my stand here than anyplace else in "The South." And I don't plan to return to South Carolina anytime soon.

Katrina, Debs, and Environmental Justice

Hurricane Katrina. Spartanburg Debutantes. Environmental Justice. One of these things is not like the other. Perhaps none of them is like the other. Or perhaps they all share something in common: they are all being housed at the Marriott Hotel in Spartanburg, SC. OK, well obviously Katrina and EJ are things that can't really be "housed" per se, since hurricanes and movements aren't things we think of as needing lodging. But I'm here in the Spartanburg Marriott, having presented my paper as part of a panel on Environmental Justice literature (mine was on the links between social justice and environmental justice in Ruth Ozeki's My Year of Meats, an excellent novel in case anyone is interested in some summer reading). The panel went well--the conference was great, in particular the morning plenary on the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, the ways in which we, as a nation, have failed to provide substantial relief to people still suffering from the aftermath of the levees breaking and the lack of governmental support. And, of course, the way that environmental racism also impacts people living in New Orleans and the surrounding region, with respect to issues of environmental justice. Robert Bullard, a pioneer, a founding father, if you will, of the Environmental Justice movement, delivered a power point presentation with devastating images of the area. But there is also hope and faith and the passion of committed activists to want to DO more--to want to CHANGE the world--and to use literature and eco-criticism as a means to enact this change--to activate others in the world we want rather than the world we have.

And then, there's the debutantes. As I was walking back to the hotel after the morning plenary, I noticed a florists' truck and then these photos of largely blonde haired, blue eyed women and then the announcement that there would be a debutante ball going on that night. And the contrast between the ASLE (Association for Literature and the Environment) conference and this ball is so stark. Made especially so after this powerful talk about Hurricane Katrina. And I suppose I shouldn't begrudge others their pleasures--the rituals that they partake in. But I've never been comfortable with debutante balls. They smack of a kind of privilege and power and an infantilization, a "virgin at the sacrificial altar" kind of ritual that makes me feel that these young girls are being conditioned into a way of life that I can't fathom.

And yet, who am I to judge? Because that's what I'm doing--judging people based on their money and their conspicuous consumption. But it's just so hard NOT to have a knee jerk reaction--not to realize that the inequities we face are so great--and to see that inequity as starkly as the juxtaposition of a talk about a hurricane and a bunch of white southern belles setting up for this one extravagant night of consumption. With nary a person of color in sight.

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.

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.

Paris Redux

Well apparently I'm not the only one appalled by the turn-of-events surrounding Paris Hilton's release from jail. She's been ordered back to court this morning because Judge Sauer feels the Sheriff's department was too hasty in letting her spend the remaining time under house arrest instead of incarcerated in the LA County Jail. The Sheriff's department also received over 400 email messages and more than 400 phone calls from people around the country protesting her preferred treatment status as a celebrity incarceree.

And I am wondering about justice. I mean, if Paris Hilton actually does serve jail time, does this mean that justice was served, that the penal system works? It's probably not so cut and dry, but I also wonder to what degree both the judge and the sheriff's office was influenced by public opinion, which is definitely against Hiton at this point, or at least against her release and her serving her sentence under house arrest (which, again, I have to think, how punitive is that for her? Sure she can't go out and about, but she certainly could have her picture taken by the ton of papparazzi surrounding her house if she still wants to be in the public eye and she certainly can have her handlers bring her food, news, various sundries--I mean, it's not like people can't see her, she just can't go out. And she lives in a 4 bedroom home in a very tony part of LA--really, how bad can her house arrest be? I suppose there's the potential shame factor, but considering there have been numerous photos and videos of her in various states of undress and in various sexual positions, how ashamed can she be feeling? And am I being too harsh in saying this--in not feeling much if any sympathy for this particular American heiress?)

Again, I wonder to what degree popular opinion plays into this. That my sentiments are shared by several people around the country seems fairly accurate to say at this point, given the outcry against her release to house arrest.

And race may not be playing an overt factor in all of this, but I don't think it hurts that she's white and blonde and privileged. And yet, I wonder if that's part of what is being judged in the court of public opinion too. The fact that she's so much the poster child for the overindulgent, overprivileged person. In the AP story they interviewed a man who was also at the LA County Courthouse fighting a traffic ticket, Moses Baltazar, who had once parked Hilton's car when he was a valet. Apparently she only tipped a dollar, which miffed him considering (a) she's rich (b) he helped fend off the papparazzi for her. And he's miffed that she is receiving special treatment given her celebrity status.

Special treatment. This seems to be at the heart of white privilege--the fact that there is a special treatment that white Americans often receive, whether consciously acknowledged or not, that people of color don't. I really think Peggy McIntosh articulates this so clearly in the list of privileges that she has in her invisible knapsack. And it's also the thing that ruffles us, in the court of public opinion--the idea that certain people do have special privilege because of who they know, how much money they have, and where they were born.

I also know that special treatment is what anti-affirmative action people shout about--and then they quote from MLK Jr.'s "I Had a Dream Speech" where he talks about wanting to be judged by the content of his character rather than the color of his skin. But this is going to bring me into a different type of rant, so I'm just going to say that I really hate it when the neo-conservative anti-affirmative action camp does this, because I'm sure MLK Jr. would roll over in his grave if he knew that his words were being parroted back in this way and for these purposes.

As for Hilton, I don't think it's the color of her skin that she's necessarily on trial for so much as the flaunting of her privilege that really rankles a lot of people--and that if we do judge the content of her character, well, I don't think that someone who tries to have her family buy her out of her misdemeanors is someone who is showing a whole lot of character.

Justice, Paris style

Today I had some consultants from Best Buy come in to give me the low down on where I should be placing the new LCD flat screen tv I plan to be purchasing in the next few months (the Samsung 13" that I bought 12 years ago is finally on the fritz and since I paid $350 originally, and since it would cost at least that much to fix it, I figured a new tv was on my horizon). For those of you who will derisively tell me that getting consultants in was a waste of money, I actually think for someone as technologically challenged, both in terms of know-how and in terms of current trends, having them here was very helpful, although they pretty much regarded me like a crazy person when I told them I was not investing in HDTV, and no, I don't have TIVO or On Demand or anything else (I pay $20 for cable and adding HDTV would be $50--why do it? I don't want that much tv, but I want to sink a tv on my wall and watch movies).

Why am I bringing all of this up? Partly to show how ignorant I am of technology trends, or maybe trends in general, which is a bit myopic for one who claims to be interested in race and popular culture.

But I just feel like I can't be bothered and it's now how I want to choose to spend my money. I mean, sure, I could spend a ton of money on a home theater system. But since I watch about 2 hours of tv a day, at most, this doesn't seem to be a good investment. And since I don't care all that much about the quality of my picture or sound, again, doesn't seem like the best way to spend my money--I even turned off the text messaging function on my cell phone because I can't be bothered with receiving, let alone sending messages.

And thus, I also don't follow certain celebrity trends and stories. Like the Paris Hilton jail thing. I mean, one can't help but hear rumblings about all of this, and yet, I never bothered to click on the link in the NY Times...until today. Because today's headline announced that after 5 days, Paris would be moved from her prison cell to her home--that she would spend her remaining jail time under house arrest.

Gross.

That's what it feels like. A gross injustice of the American penal and justice system. A gross injustice in terms of class and celebrity status. And since I pretty much feel Paris Hilton is gross herself (I just don't get why she's all that--blond, thin, and willing to wear skimpy clothing and act stupid, is that her appeal?), gross seems to be the right word to describe how I feel about this whole situation. It's gross that she was able to buy her way out of jail because of her family's power and her current celebrity status.

And really, is anyone surprised that a rich, blond white girl would be able to cry her way out of jail? I'm sure all the incarcerated prisoners, of color or not, who are poor, working class, and particularly those who are black and Latino who have been targeted, racially, I'm sure they can all empathize with poor little Paris.

No Diploma for You!

There is a high school in Galesburg, IL (Galesburg High School--go figure) which denied five of their graduates their diplomas on graduate day because their friends and families "cheered" for them as they walked across stage. Apparently Galesburg has been having a problem with rowdy graduations--or more specifically, with people applauding, whistling, yelling, and blowing air horns so loudly that other friends and family can't hear the name of their beloved graduate as they walk across the stage. And so the administrators implemented a "no cheering" policy--and to enforce it, they threatened (and carried out) the punishment that the graduates would not receive their diplomas.

So let me break it down. Five students had their family members reported as cheering too loudly, too racously, too vociferously, during graduation--they upset the sense of dignity and decorum that the Galesburg High School administrators were seeking. They made these students sign contracts that their family members would hold applause until all graduates walked across the stage.

Now. Does it surprise anyone that the five graduates were all students of color? And I don't mean this as in, of course they have rowdy families but rather, of course they were the ones who got nailed--of course they were targeted. According to the article in the NY Times, the families (4 African American, 1 Latino) said that there were white families who cheered, but only they were singled out--only their students were denied their diplomas.

I'm not trying to say that it was a necessarily intentional act of racism. But I do think that people of color often stand out, especially when they are in the minority (not sure if that's the case, but it does seem like it may be). And therefore, these families stood out. And therefore they were singled out. Unintentional racism. Yet racism none-the-less.