Rhetoric and Innuendo

I’m not a political pundit, talking head, sociology expert or even a celebrity whose opinion might carry weight on this particular issue. I am however, the mother of two young black boys and I think what I have to say is worth listening to. The United States government cannot currently function because of our inability to have an honest, open dialogue about race. The president is right: what happened in Ferguson, New York and now Cleveland and what continues to happen to poor communities of color in America is not a black problem; it’s an American problem. Until we can address the fundamental causes of racial inequality in this country: i.e. inadequate schooling, housing, social and economic injustice and perhaps most importantly the rate at which we are killing ourselves. Not only through direct violence but the way many of us allow ourselves to be heard. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, much to the chagrin of my own people-we must take responsibility for ourselves and our communities otherwise we are doomed as a race. That doesn’t have to be the case. It is quite possible that Michael Brown would be alive today had he not been in the wrong place at the wrong time. In a society that believes black men are predisposed to violence-(a prejudice helped beautifully along by urban culture these days) it is suicide for a young black boy to brandish toy guns. In the case of Erick Garner, we all saw that he did not cooperate with the officers and he was in fact resisting arrest. If he had cooperated, he would have been alive today. Unfortunately Akai Gurley was in the wrong place at the wrong time at his home in the projects, simply walking up a staircase-and he was shot in the chest by a rookie officer for it. Here’s my question, or maybe it’s more of a statement: black men are 21 times more likely to die at the hands of police. Why? Fear? Prejudice? If so, then anybody considering a job as a police officer must seriously consider his true feelings about the community he/she is sworn to protect-most likely they will be facing the people that you are fearful of, and as Giuliani said: it’s not racism, it’s statistics: cops are placed where there is the most crime. How would we react if the majority of police officers were stationed on Park Avenue and not in East New York or Harlem? There would be outrage if there were no cops where they were needed. So, a cop who has prejudices (and it’s nothing to be ashamed of-we all have them-it’s why the intelligent among us become educated, or participate in training-to dispel the ignorance that binds us) and holds the power of life and death in his hands is a dangerous person to have patrolling the streets of high crime areas. People will call Giuliani a racist but hear him out. He makes a valid point. Some of us don’t like to hear the truth, and that’s just as destructive to us as racism. When are we going to stop killing, selling drugs to one another, robbing and harming each other and then expect the same cops we vilify to serve and protect us? Can sensitivity training help? Is community policing the answer? Would an independent prosecutor taking these cases away from the grand jury really make a difference? Are more laws, bureaucracy, red-tape, press- conferences, civilian review boards, and proselytizing going to solve America’s race problem? Talk is cheap. One mother speaking at a Ferguson community meeting after the riots put it best; “we’re tired of rhetoric and innuendos.” She’s right, but this works both ways. What are we going to do about this? We’ve tried community policing- broken window theory approach to deterence-after school programs, etcetera, etcetera yet, here we are days, months, and years after Anthony Baez, Abner Louima, Amadou Diallo, Patrick Dorismond, Sean Bell, Trayvon Martin, and the list is as long as history. Young black and brown men are still dying at the hands of police. Anybody who is arrested has the right to a trial by their “peers.” They have a right to let the justice system run its course; to prove beyond a “reasonable doubt” the accused’s guilt or innocence. They have rights as human beings, as citizens of a country that prides itself on justice and equality whether it’s an officer accused of a crime, or someone who is arrested for allegedly committing one. We are a nation of laws and no person or institution should be above the law. However, the right to trial was taken away the moment the officers decided to take matters into their own hands, tragically and I assume unexpectedly killing the perpetrators of the crime they had been accused of. They assumed they were above the law and so far they are- all of the officers have been acquitted of any wrong doing. They continue to get away with it. Denis Hamill wrote about how important it is for the community of victims of these tragedies see the wheels of justice turn-however slowly. He stated that the outcomes in the cases of Abner Louima, Amadou Dialo, and Sean Bell-all similarly egregious crimes produced no rioting because the officers involved were tried in a court of law. The community felt as though their anger, frustrations and unanswered questions were addressed in a court of law where justice should prevail. There is dignity in that, regardless of the outcome, it lets victims and families know that their loved ones mattered. In the case of Ferguson, and now New York, questions were unanswered: I mean how is it the world could see that a man was telling the officer he could not breathe, yet that officer continued to choke the life out of him? Somebody should answer for that. As a mother, it is my responsibility to make sure aren’t ever in the wrong place at the wrong time-iI can’t guarantee it, but I have to try-especially if you live in a sundown state like Ferguson Missouri, or countless other southern states. I pray my boys will never, find themselves in such a situation –it’s my duty to prepare them, to teach them so that they know better; but if they do not, I will warn them that America is not as safe for them as it is for white boys and I will show them the evidence. If a 12 year old boy gunned down by the police for simply playing with a toy gun doesn’t put the fear of God into them, I don’t know what will. So far in New York the protests are peaceful, but in Ferguson we watched the city burn. Sadly, Ferguson is already plagued by racism-it was simply a matter of time before the bomb went off. I will never condone the willful destruction of property- especially property belonging to the very community burning it down-nor can I condone the violence that claims lives-black, white or other. It has not eradicated racism- it never will. We will never fix racial disparity until the system changes, until we address the fact that schools require adequate funding to keep young black men (and women) in school, increasing the likelihood that they will go on to college and earn decent salaries thereby eliminating the possibility they’ll get shot for participating in illegal enterprise. If they happen to be fortunate enough to be drafted by a professional sports organization without finishing their education, they will be educated and informed enough to not look foolish standing in front of cameras on national television, apologizing and begging for their jobs back because of they did something they never would have done if they had proper guidance or training. They wouldn’t be reliant on an organization that promotes and profits from the perceived innate savagery of black men. (Hello Ray and Janay Rice) My emotions are as scattered as this piece. My heart breaks for black men in this country-especially the most important negro in charge-Barack Obama, the half-white black man-(I always have to point that out so we can see just how deeply entrenched racism is in this country) who has fought and is still fighting to defy the angry black man stereotype that plagues black men who dare to achieve, or like him, do their jobs-but can’t because at the end of the day, all they really are to most of America are thugs, and criminals whose lives are meaningless. Blacks, especially black men should sit down, shut up or be put down. Isn’t that the desired outcome of censuring the President of the United States of America? Is it me, or a coincidence that in the latter days of Obama’s presidency we are seeing an increased amount of violence against young black men? I was never one for conspiracy theories but lately, they seem to make sense. Until we discuss race-honestly-then and only then (I’m thinking house and senate republicans -some democrats too-really need to sit in a room and air out why the just can’t seem to agree with the black man) can this country progress and live up to its ideal: one nation under God indivisible with Liberty and Justice for All. Only then can we heal and get to the important business of safeguarding this sacred republic. God Bless America. God bless us all.

I almost didn’t see Boyhood, not that I didn’t want to. I, like most people who were anxious to see the film, was impressed by the fact that Richard Linklater had used the same cast over a 13 year period, which would seem to lend some authenticity to the story. Linklater's candid and sometimes frightening assessment of human relationships which he explored in the Before Sunset trilogy; the things that bring us together and keep us together are often the very things which end up tearing us apart, are bittersweet facts of life and I have come to appreciate the way they are beautifully depicted in his films. However, a recent review by Imran Siddique in The Atlantic (Not Everyone's Boyhood)m.theatlantic.com/boyhood) dismissed the film’s most poignant and beautiful points simply because there were no people of color in supporting roles. I find this offensive. First of all, just because a film doesn't portray a “Black” person as the protagonist’s best friend, receptionist, nurse, or cop-the supporting roles blacks usually play- doesn't make it racist. It is also a fact of life that people of color are not as abundant in some areas of the United States as they are in others. It is also a fact of life that a boy might not have a black best friend. This does not make the film racist or insensitive to the plight of people of color. Boyhood takes place in Texas (primarily Austin and Houston) where whites and Hispanics outnumber blacks so it’s not unusual to find less black people in the picture. Furthermore, Boyhood details Mason Evans Jr.,’s experiences not the experiences of people of color that he may or may not have known. The review also mentioned the contrasting boyhoods of African American boys portrayed in movies like Boys in the Hood and Fruitvale Station. While both are tragic coming of age stories for young black men who experience violence as well as class and social inequality on a daily basis. Mason is not African American; he is not growing up with a single black father in South Central LA or a single black mother in the Bay area. It is ridiculous to suggest that Mason’s life experience reflect a world he does not live in. Does this make Mason’s story any less authentic or necessary? As a mother of two young boys who happen to be black, it was refreshing to see a movie where the protagonist’s life was not cut down too soon by gun-violence, usually at the hands of another black man, or the police. I was happy that at the end of the movie my head wasn’t hurting from bawling. I must confess that I wish more movies about African American boys could play out as beautifully as Mason’s did, however that is not the world we live in and I don’t think this movie was intended to be a referendum on race-relations in America. The movie dealt with the issue of race the way America should; as an everyday ordinary, natural occurrence not worth riling ourselves up about. Black, white and Asian citizens were seen in the film as classmates, diners at restaurants living their lives and tending to their normal everyday business. As an African American woman I can say that this is the way I want to exist in the world-conflict, chaos and drama free. I’m black but I don’t always want or feel the need to be a political statement. Forgive me for sounding trite but I think Mason and his dad’s support for the Obama campaign spoke volumes about how they felt about race. It was a non-issue. President Obama was recognized as a presidential candidate they would/should vote for, because they cared about his ideals-his race didn’t come up. But for those of us, like our reviewer who want to drag it into the conversation, there was the scene where Mason asked a man with a confederate flag in his window if he could put an Obama sign in the yard. The man angrily responds, “Do I look like a Barrack Hussein Obama supporter? Linklater gave racism the attention it deserved and that was enough. Fatherhood. Single motherhood. Mason’s relationship with both of his parents. Mason’s relationship with himself. A woman struggling to create an identity and a life for herself apart from being a mother and an ex-wife. A father trying to connect with his children. The loss of innocence…these are the issues worth discussing because these are the things that shape our lives and our experiences. They have made Mason who he becomes. One of my favorite scenes is a car-ride where Mason Sr. asks Mason and his sister Samantha about their lives. They don’t respond as openly as he would like. He tells them he’s not going to be the father who takes them out for the weekend and buys them things. He wants to hear from them. He wants to know how they are doing. They respond by telling him it’s not that simple, they then turn the tables on him and demand that he tell them what is going on in his life. As a parent, I was humbled by this scene. We expect our kids to be open with us-to communicate with us and connect with us but we don’t show them how because as parents it’s our responsibility to make sure the rules we make to protect them don’t get broken, in order to do that we come across as stiff and unfeeling, never showing our human and vulnerable sides to our children. This is unfair and robs us of the most magical and mutually beneficial relationships we will ever have. Who knows us better than ourselves if not our kids? They become who they are because of how we nurture them socially and emotionally, which is just as important as their physical and intellectual development. Even Mason Sr. has some lessons to learn as he seems to come of age at about the same time Mason graduates from high school and is about to start a new phase in his life as a married man with a new baby to raise. We see Mason literally growing up before our eyes. The scene in which Mason’s mom, Olivia drives him to school annoyed that he would pretend to be sick because his stepfather shaves his head. He tells his mother that it’s his hair and his stepfather didn’t even ask him if he could cut it. She looks into his face and recognizes his maturity. We watch Mason pull down the larger than life stills of the girl who breaks his heart from an exhibition at his school and our hearts break too. Our spirits are lifted once again as his father steps in to remind him that he was too good for her. “After all,” he reminds Mason, “she left you for a jock.” When Mason is packing for college, his mother becomes emotional and tells him he’s about to have all of these wonderful experiences while the only thing that’s next for her is the grave. He accuses her of being melodramatic. She says she didn’t expect him to be so happy about leaving. When he finds an old photograph among his things, he asks her why she packed it, and she tearfully explains it’s the first photograph he’s ever taken. He calmly tells her it’s all the more reason to leave it behind, with her. In the scene where Mason Sr. gives his children the contraception talk, the kids would rather not talk about it, but as he jokingly tells them he doesn’t want them to follow in their parent’s footsteps, we can tell from the looks on their faces that they get it. Fathers are not often celebrated and in cases of divorce especially in popular culture and mass media, dad is often portrayed as the bad guy. Mothers can’t walk away from their children as easily as some fathers can, but in this movie, Mason Sr. has proved himself. He truly loves his children and wants to know them and demands to be actively involved in their lives. He reminded me of my own dad who could make sense of a cruel world in a way that enabled me to treat people with dignity, even if they may not have always deserved it. I owe everything I am to who he was. Of course several mistakes were made along the way-but that’s the beauty of the film. Clearly Olivia and Mason Sr. aren’t perfect parents but they did their best with what they had. I am able to look at the world and know that I have a place in it because I, like Mason Jr. learned enough from my imperfect parents not to make the same mistakes. On his first night at college Mason and a friend contemplate this idea; perhaps the moments seize the person and not the other way around. These moments take us where we are supposed to be, teaching us the lessons that are ours to learn. They are the essence of life and the universal theme of the film. Boyhood is not a film about race simply because it doesn’t have to be.

RETROSPECT Back when i didn't care what i said, or what i did I lived I was beautiful. I was young. I was confident. I was stupid. I was free I was unafraid to go in the direction of my dreams Even though I had no idea where the fuck I was going, or how to get there. Now I'm stuck. You got rid of your panther, I always knew you would. I couldn't afford to get rid of mine so here it is a hideous stain of what once was that i can never get rid of. When people ask me what it is, I chuckle and remember the story so perhaps-in retrospect-it was worth it. On the other hand, in retrospect, It reminds me of you and it reminds me of the simple promises we made to each other that seemed impossible to break like us. Or so we thought. Retrospect is a luxury that along with many other things I've had to give up, I can no longer afford.

It's been a long time...

Yeah. I know. Craig this is for you. The unfortunate thing about this post is that I don't really have much to write about right now-the kids are asleep-finally-after fighting with me over who is going to hold the book and turn the pages during story hour-they actually won, ripped one of the pages (my husband is going to kill me-he gets so upset when the boys get after the books) and in a fit of rage and misunderstanding, I just don't understand why they won't sit with me, thoughtfully engaged like they do with their father-well, that's a lie. I know why. I started to let them hold the books when I read to them because I think it's a good practice. It's like they are actually reading; the way they flip through the pages and talk to themselves, pointing at the pictures and stuff. However, they started to get overexcited, fighting among themselves for who would get control of the words and the colors, in essence who would wield the power that reading and learning is. As I said, they tore a page in the book, the one thing my husband begged me not to let them do, so I tore the books away from them and they were left without a story to put them to sleep. To my surprise they bawled for about two minutes and then complete silence as they fell fast asleep to the sounds of Singers and Swing on Music choice on t.v. My poor babies...I'm sure they were tired. Today was a long day and their naps were continually interrupted. At least they got to hold the book and flip through the pages, which they wouldn't have been able to do if daddy were home. The book they were fighting over is pretty awesome so I don't blame them for wanting to hold it. It's called "One", by Katherine Otoshi and it deals with colors, counting, bullying, self-esteem and it's just so brilliantly done. So colorfully poignant! Then there's the classic "Where the Wild Things Are," by Maurice Sendak, which I hoped would distract them and well, what can I say? I don't blame them for wanting to take that from me too. I can't wait until they are truly old enough to understand that one. I guess the real issue here is the difference in our parenting styles. Sometimes I think hubby is a bit too rigid; and I think I'm right-mommy always knows best, but then when I see the obliterated books, ( "The Very Hungry Caterpillar," by Eric Carle is another victim) I understand his point-the books need to be around for when they can actually read and understand them. Right now they aren't talking, I know they aren't actually reading or counting but I'm anxious and I want to give them a head start. I actually got them "Mama Bear, Mama Bear," also by Eric Carle, which is a fabric book, which is perfect because they can eat it if they like, which they seem to enjoy- try to tear it apart, smash it, step on it toss it in the garbage, but of course they have no interest in destroying that book because of course, it can't be destroyed. So what the hell is my point with this blog post? Nothing really...I just wanted to do what I've always done. Reintroduce myself and I'm not making any promises, but I will try to keep posting regularly. You see, it's not that I haven't been writing-actually, I've written more since my kids were born then I did before I had them. I guess there's a sense of urgency now. I've been writing. I can assure you. Besides, it's a late night, I'm home alone and the kids are asleep so it's an opportune time to do some stream of conscious writing. Well, maybe this is not true stream of consciousness but you don't want to know what my consciousness is streaming right now. That being said, it's time for a night cap. Hey Craig-are you listening? Oh...and I apologize for that grotesquely humongous head of mine that takes up way too much of the screen-I can assure you I am the very antithesis of what that stupid picture represents. I'm trying to get rid of it...so bear with me. Good night. Talk soon?