Monthly Archives: March 2016

White and Woke: How Whiteness Regulates Renegade Members

Posted on by under Culture, General Articles

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Almost a year ago, I wrote that I was done being a white man. I gave the reasons why, and I set out a new course for my racial identity.

Almost a year later, I’m still a white man.

The fact that I have, when possible, declined to give my race on applications and such has not changed the fact that anyone who sees me knows that I’m white. Even as I figuratively scrub at my skin like Lady MacBeth, I can no more change that damned spot than can the leopard – I remain in my pale camouflage that comes with a history of superiority and a future of possibility.

This is not an affliction. Being forced to retain privilege isn’t something that will ever make me ask for sympathy. Even if remaining trapped in a fallacious race is frustrating, well, at least my name will never cause my job application to be summarily thrown out. Don’t mistake this post as a diatribe of fake problems. My frustrations are very real, but I can’t claim that I’m a victim of injustice in this case.

Even though my physical condition has not changed in the past eleven months, I have continued to read and observe and listen and learn, expanding my knowledge and understanding of race – of blackness, of whiteness, and of the way in which the farcical American melting pot has boiled at such unbearable temperatures. I’m no expert, but these are things about which I’m often thinking and learning.

Whiteness is, of course, defined by what it is not (namely, not colored), but, just as much, whiteness lives on because of what it is. Or, more precisely, what it pretends to be. The fantasy of whiteness is built on the foundation of white supremacy, and it engenders what Ta-Nehisi Coates might call The Dream. This Dream is an American Utopia built on comfort and stability and the freedom to pursue the things that people are led to believe will make them happy. There is no room in this world for disturbance.

Awakened Americans with white skin are a threat to the comfort and stability of whiteness. So whiteness must have a solution for the thoughts, words, and actions of people like me, just as it has come up with ways to defend itself against red, brown, black, and yellow people. The solution has been to attempt to prove me wrong, to make me change my mind, or to silence me. Whiteness won’t try to expel me, but it will try to make a part of me disappear, even as it lays claim to my ethnicity. I am still white in the eyes of the world because whiteness will not let me go. Whiteness wants me to holistically blend into society. It wants what I have to offer just as long as there are no racial strings attached.

The strategy revolves around discrediting my views on any grounds that will deny racism and thus perpetuate white supremacy. So I’m told that I’ve been swayed by liberal media – that either my naivete concerning propaganda or my political party affiliation is what has misguided my racial judgement. I’m told that I’m too young to have any accurate idea of who Malcolm X was, or what the Black Panthers stood for. I’m told that I’m insufficiently educated, and that my understanding of history is wrong. I’m told that I can’t possibly understand police work because I’m not a policeman. I’m told that Christ is the answer and I should be more worried about the Gospel and less worried about social issues. In each example, an aspect of my identity (maturity, political ideology, age, education, occupation, religion) bears the brunt of my correction so that my whiteness may remain pristine and a view of people of colored may remain undisturbed.

This is no different from how whiteness explains the actions of other white radicals. When whiteness recognizes actual factual racists (which it rarely does) it explains them away based on geographical location and antiquated heritage – making obvious white supremacists a benign piece of Southern Americana rather than a fabric woven into the entire American tapestry. Whiteness sees armed organizations attacking state property and calls them “militias” with a slightly overzealous love of freedom. Whiteness explains away murderers like Dylan Roof on the basis of mental health. In each instance, whiteness insists that whiteness cannot be the problem.

Whiteness deals with me like it deals with out-and-out racists, civilian armies, and domestic terrorists: it comes up with a reason for us being wrong that preserves the felicity of whiteness.

There is another strategy which is perhaps the most insidious tactic of regulating awakened whites. It is to trap them on one side of the veil and to keep them on one side of the colored line. This tactic uses our own whiteness against us by claiming that, because we are white AND young/uneducated/liberal/idealistic/etc we cannot possibly know what life is like for non-white people (and in my case this has referred to black America). My opinion is discounted because I am not black, let alone poor, urban, and black. Whiteness quiets my opinion of blackness because I am not black, and this will, of course, not change because I can never be black.

But here is the coup de grâce: if I somehow did become black, my opinion on race still wouldn’t count. People of color have been shouting about race for generations and whiteness has not listened. Rather, they are maligned for unsettling the peace and comfort of The Dream. Protesters today are called thugs who whine and complain about imaginary problems instead of dealing with their own issues. Even as whiteness mitigates the offense of the Bundy “militia,” it lambastes every move of Black Lives Matter.

That’s game over, isn’t it? My opinion doesn’t matter because I’m white and don’t really know what goes on, but if I was black, then my opinion wouldn’t matter for an entirely new set of reasons.

But I don’t believe it is game over – otherwise I don’t think I would do what I do. Bleak as it may seem I think there is a way forward, and it will come when people of all colors work together towards these goals. James Baldwin writes: “If we – and now I mean the relatively conscious whites and the relatively conscious blacks, who must, like lovers, insist on, or create, the consciousness of the others – do not falter in our duty now, we may be able, handful that we are, to end the racial nightmare, and achieve our country, and change the history of the world.” And, whereas Baldwin mostly rejected religion, I believe that the Gospel does have the power to help unify people across racial lines.

Yet, even when peaceful racial unity and reconciliation is the mission, whiteness feels threatened. Dr. King was murdered. The FBI assassinated Fred Hampton. Do not forget that.

And, as whiteness continues to regulate renegades like me, I wonder how to awaken white people – how to insist on or create their consciousness – when there was no red pill in my own experience. My awakening was a long and complicated process. I don’t know if I began to mortify prejudice because I liked aspects of black culture, or if my interest in aspects of black culture prompted me to mortify prejudice. There’s no fool-proof formula. All I know for certain is that education is key, and that’s why I hope to teach people about these things going forward.

But a further complication is the racial ambiguity that awaits whites who awaken. To deny your whiteness is to deny yourself a race. I hate my whiteness, so even though I will be white forever I will never feel like I’m a part of the white community. But I can’t be black either. There’s no home for my identity offered there. And rightfully so. I can’t become black just because I like Kendrick Lamar, The Wire, Lupita Nyong’o, or any other aspect of black culture and heritage (and trust me – I like a lot of them). Just because I get emotional listening to “Glory” from Selma doesn’t mean that I can really put myself in community with John Legend when he sings “One day when the glory comes it will be ours” (well, depending on how you look at it, I can and I should, but that’s another discussion). I can’t be sure yet what toll this will take, and how that might affect potentially awakened whites.

So, nearing the end of my first year of attempting to deny whiteness, I’m still white. No surprise there. I knew that wouldn’t change. What I didn’t know was how fiercely whiteness would fight to keep me. I didn’t know how ruthless the regulation of race could be.

I didn’t know I’d be such a nightmare for The Dream.

Recommended Reading

  • The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. Du Bois
  • The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin
  • Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates
  • The Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man by James Weldon Johnson
  • Quicksand by Nella Larsen

Forth now, and fear no darkness (or whiteness).

Soli Deo Gloria

– Peter

The Gloomy Last Days of LeBron

Posted on by under Sports

Steph Curry has completed his coup d’état. But was the end of LeBron’s reign deposition, or was it abdication?

curry and lebron

Niccolo Machiavelli famously wrote in The Prince: “It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both.” King James has never quite mastered either.

Here we are in the third phase of LeBron’s career, and we are neither having fun nor fearing for the safety of the NBA’s 29 other teams. Instead, malcontent grips his literal and figurative court as the league’s crown passes to the fun and terrifying Steph Curry-led Warriors.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. When LeBron went home to Cleveland, it looked like we had a wildly entertaining basketball story ahead of us. But, after the Andrew Wiggins for Kevin Love deal, a deal I still believe to have been the wrong decision, it became clear that LeBron was expediting the process of building a contender, trading a beautiful struggle for the weight of expectation. Even so, Kevin Love and Kyrie Irving apologists thought the team would be dominant as well as fun.

It’s been neither.

Last year’s Finals was tragic basketball bushido. What looked like it might have been a glorious Spartan last stand became something akin to the ravings of a mad monarch. That wasn’t fun. That was morose.

This Cavaliers team is depressing, not enough fun to watch, laborious to follow, and, ultimately, doomed.

After losses to the Raptors and Wizards had the Cavs doing some soul-searching, the team came back and won three in a row, including two routs in which they exhibited a small ball game plan and then some true grit. But then, just as quickly as it looked like they might have been figuring something out, they lost in tremendous fashion to a team missing its three best players. They let the Grindfather score 26 points on them. And now we’re engulfed in Cavalier concern again – what’s wrong with them? Does LeBron believe in his teammates? Do Kevin and Kyrie want to be there? How should they incorporate Kevin into the offense? Is Tyronne Lue making the right moves?

Most things we hear from the Cavs are gloomy. Every winning streak is shattered by every disappointing loss. And all LebronCurrythis bellicose drama is augmented by the Sword of Damocles that hangs over whomever makes it out of the East to face the Warriors or Spurs. The Cavs can’t win it all this year. Or at least it will be damn near impossible.

And so, by extension, LeBron isn’t having fun. He isn’t fun to watch – not only because he doesn’t do the amazing LeBron things like he used to, but because there isn’t the rampant joy that now makes the Warriors so lovable.

The lack of fun would be okay if LeBron and the Cavs were terrifying. We can’t expect all of our champions to be lovable. In English football, last year’s Chelsea team was unlikable, and their success came with snarls as often as smiles. But good gracious me did they play fine soccer. They were a beast to reckon with, and that made them worthy EPL champions, even if they were villainous whiners. Fun as Michael Jordan must have been to watch, his demeanor was thoroughly mirthless, right?

But the Cavs aren’t terrifying. They’re rather tame. They got beat at home by the ‘effin Grizzlies and then moped about the state of their team.

This is a premature end to LeBron’s reign. Even though he’s at the end of his prime, this feels so much more like the twilight of his career.

Now we must consider how unsatisfying his reign was. To say that it began anytime before the 2008-09 season would be a reach. Even as he was winning that first MVP award, Kobe was leading those Lakers to the first of back to back championships. But from that season through 2012-13, LeBron won four MVPs and won two out of three trips to the Finals. And even if you extend his reign into the next two seasons, in which he appeared in two more Finals, in neither season was he the MVP. In fact, last year, there were three or four players more deserving of the MVP than LeBron. And, of course, Stephen Curry is going to win the award again this year. So even a generous estimate of LeBron’s reign would reach from 2008-2014.

That reign was full of controversy, failure, pressure, scrutiny, villainy, and treachery. Even as LeBron had the best seasons of his career, he was slow to make himself loved or feared.

But, for a small window of time, in the midst of Miami’s back to back championships, it looked like everything was coming together. LeBron was dominating. His team was owning the East and had bested two Western Conference champions in a row. He was having fun. His team was having fun. And, finally, we were having fun. The haters were quiet. LeBron had, after a long journey, arrived at the place an NBA monarch is supposed to live. I think the world of the NBA breathed a collective sigh of relief.

And then it crumbled so quickly in the wake of that Finals rematch with the Spurs. Before that, it looked like we were headed for a few more years of blissful Miami Heat basketball teams. I seriously thought the rest of LeBron’s career would be a breeze, in which he won a few more MVPs and a couple more Finals, all while having tons of fun with D-Wade and Bosh.

Leaving Miami didn’t destroy the chance for a happy future, but it did change the game. And, like I’ve already said, this new phase of LeBron’s career has not contained the fun it could have had and it certainly has not struck fear in the way that I think LeBron must have envisioned as he and David Griffin built this roster.

I think we missed out on something special. The time to really enjoy LeBron was all too short. NBA fans of the last 30 some odd years could enjoy the greats like Kobe, Duncan, Jordan, Magic, and Bird in clearly defined eras of dominance. And while LeBron’s first years in Cleveland playing for bad teams were fun, and while he was an ascending star, the definitive years of his career were cut short so soon after it had stabilized into something magical. All things considered, for a player who will be in anyone’s top five or ten when it’s all done, it was a brief and unremarkable stay atop the NBA.

The rest of his career may very well be filled with joyless regular seasons, Eastern Conference championships by default, and losses in the NBA Finals, all while posting a high PER but never again getting serious MVP consideration. Even if he, individually, is a very great player well into his 30s, he won’t be the king of basketball ever again.

Trust me – I hope I’m wrong.

But it’s so rare that a deposed ruler reclaims the throne.

Forth now, and fear no darkness.

Soli Deo Gloria

– Peter

The Shawshank Redemption and the Hypocrisy of Incarceration Nation

Posted on by under Culture, General Articles

prison

I would bet against me avoiding political commentary in the coming weeks and months. For now, we’ll focus in on an issue that – surprise surprise – has not  managed to hold much place in the ongoing political dialogue. Dialogue is, I suppose, much too kind a word for the bloviating that dominates political rhetoric and disscourse (extra ‘s’ intentional).

The justice system in this country is in need of major fixes and some total overhauls. Among the necessary changes to the justice system is prison reform. The current prison system is a bloated panacea that has become a supplier of neo-slave labor. Additionally, it has disproportionately contributed to the plight of many black communities and created a warped sense of reality that frustrates statistical interpretation and projection. White-collar criminals have unfairly avoided prison sentences or bought their way into nicer detainment centers. There are numerous incidents of prison guards grievously abusing inmates. The current system emphasizes punishment rather than rehabilitation, and life after prison is a really tough go for ex-cons – creating such a high re-incarceration rate.

Despite all the wrongs of the prison system, it seems that Americans, in general, don’t care about their incarcerated compatriots. There’s not a lot of sympathy going around for people locked behind bars. Of course – of course – there are some individuals in prison who are dangerous and deranged and should be kept in prison for the well-being of society. But even the psychopaths should be treated humanely. For the most part, people just tend to not think about the millions of people in prison.

And this neglect, apathy, and outright disdain persists despite the fact that prison is – what’s the word? – I honestly can’t think of the right word. It is a horrific, dangerous place to be. At its most basic level, prison is a box that holds people that need to be kept away from society for a while. But prison so often becomes a cruel and unusual punishment. Taking away life’s luxuries is one thing – subjecting people to physical, sexual, and psychological trauma is another. If you can stand it, listen to a few seconds of what solitary confinement sounds like (hint: it’s not quiet).

But here’s the disjointed and hypocritical part of Incarceration Nation that I want to get at: sometimes we really like prisoners. Sometimes we empathize with them. In fact, I think it’s our natural inclination to have pity on the prisoner.

Because you realize that arguably the most-loved American film of all-time is about prisoners, right? Yes, The Shawshank Redemption has a wrongly-convicted man as its main character, but it takes almost no effort for the filmmakers to get the audience to love all the prisoners, with the obvious exception of the men who repeatedly rape Andy. We’re thrilled, as an audience, to see the prisoners gain some nice things like the library, and everyone has a few notes played on the heart strings in the famous “Opera Scene.”

Morgan Freeman’s character, Red, has to be one of the most beloved characters Freeman has ever played – and he’s a black prisoner who readily admits to murdering someone!

Shawshank isn’t the only example of this either – Cool Hand Luke is another iconic film about prisoners – albeit in a setting that’s a little less “maximum security,” given that we’re supposed to believe most of the prisoners aren’t there for the long haul. Still, this film also manages to make the audience love the convicts and celebrate their happiness and mourn their hardships.

So what the heck is up with that? Why do we like these prisoners but hate the ones in real life?

Is it because of the sadistic wardens and guards? It shouldn’t be – there’s plenty of those in real life too.

Is it because of the vibrant characters? Shouldn’t be that either – there’s some interesting people locked away right now.

Is it because the prison life doesn’t seem as bad as in real life? Well, maybe, but if it was worse in the movies, wouldn’t that make us pity them all the more?

I think we just have to accept this as disjointed and hypocritical. We like the fictional characters that are safely locked away on the big screen, but we ignore and even hate the real life convicts that once walked among us. Watching those films, we can let our desire for freedom and our touting of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness dictate how we feel. We set aside our prejudices and embrace empathy as we see humans locked away in a place none of us want to be.

But when does this disjointedness reveal an unnatural mindset: when we watch the fiction or when we consider the real life prisoners? In other words, are we fooling ourselves when we pity the dangerous criminals on screen or are we dishonest when our empathy withers as the detainees become very real?

I don’t know. I am pretty sure, despite our acceptance of Morgan Freeman’s character, that there’s a racial component to it (and, besides, could we really be scared of Morgan Freeman?). It is worth noting that Red is, if my memory serves, the only non-white character in either film (and in Stephen King’s story, Red is not black).

But racial factors probably compound what might be the real underlying hypocrisy – we can get invested in fiction because it’s fiction. It’s easy to watch a movie and then feel inspired to make a difference, but actually acting on real life problems is so much tougher. Obviously.

What remains clear is a dissonance between our love of freedom and our sympathy for fictional inmates and the way we treat prisoners in real life. Prisoners are people too. Yes, many are dangerous, and many should be behind bars for the safety of others, but the Chateau D’if that we’ve made of  the American prison system needs some major reworking

Forth now, and fear no darkness.

Soli Deo Gloria

– Peter