As protest of the Trump presidency began all across the country, Trump and Obama met, for the first time ever. That is surprising, in and of itself, given the whole "birtherism" connection that these men share. Then again, that was a pretty one-sided connection, and it appears to have served it's purpose. The current sitting President, Obama, reassured America that his team would do everything possible to insure the success of the Trump team. Even going as far as saying, "Success for Trump is success for America". I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment, but it is not lost on me that many have not shared Obama's sense of unity over the past eight years. While that is exactly what Americans should expect a current president to express to his successor, and it is something that former President George W Bush afforded President Obama as well, it still feels as though something is missing. In the coming days, should I expect a prominent member of the Senate to step before microphones and say "his number one priority, over the next four years, will be to make sure that Trump is a one term President". With our current news cycle, such a tantalizing loop would surely be played time and again, on every major news outlet, making certain no one missed it, and setting the tone for national discourse for years to come. I'm glad our leaders realize the power they hold and use a more disciplined approach, or at least some of them.
Speaking of disciplined approaches, someone needs to do something about these nagging protest. They do not constitute the return to "law and order" that so many have been anxiously awaiting. My Facebook and Twitter feeds are filled with memes about the childish, crybabies who have taken to the streets, in protest of a reality that will not change for at least four years. What a waste of time and energy! I am also assured that no such protest occurred four or eight years ago, which is at least "partially" true. If I ignore the rise in talk radio and internet shows (insert Tomi Lahren or any of the plethora that now exist) created over the past 8 years, specifically for the purpose of feeding the "anti-Obama" cancer, I could get on with castigating these street-walking protesters as completely out of line. Personally, I have been trying to forget that time, earlier in the Obama term, when I went into Academy to buy my wife a gun for a special occasion. Somehow that became an "in thing" to do in red states recently. On my visit, I was underwhelmed by the public conversation between the clerk and another customer about how both guns and ammo were flying off the shelves since Obama took office. To hear the clerk tell it, the Tuesday delivery of .22 caliber rounds was selling out by lunchtime with each weekly delivery. Yes, someone please get these kids off the street and back into Academy, where people exercise their right to protest in a way more suitable for Capitalism and the second amendment. No one respects your first amendment childishness. If anyone missed it, that was sarcasm!
Does anyone else remember that early State of The Union address, where a sitting member of Congress yelled "you lie" at the sitting President on national television. No one really saw that, of course, because the State of The Union is not one of the President's largest audiences. Right? It is hard to know which is more damaging to our republic, normal people walking down the street yelling profanities, or breaking with tradition and decorum to yell during the SOTU address. One of those things happens every day in America. The other has happened once in my lifetime. Please, no one mention the over-the-top, visceral criticism hurled at the soon-to-be exiting President from day one. The blatant disrespect which built to the point that even during national disasters, sitting Republican governors refused to meet the arriving President on the tarmac for the traditional photo op. That break with modern tradition is hard to explain, especially if the tradition resumes immediately with a new President. Meanwhile, the talk radio arm of the Republican party amplified this into the new conservative 'chic'. As recently as the Republican debates, we were reminded by the debate participants themselves, of the unpopular mistake it had been for Chris Christie to meet and, how dare he, even hug President Obama as he arrived to coordinate federal relief efforts following Hurricane Sandy. Maybe I, as many of my conservative friends are choosing to do, can pretend that all never happened.
As I am writing this, I realize that many will say "well you are no better than anyone else who spends time stoking the flames of discord in our nation". You are just choosing a side and pouring gasoline on the fire. That would be true except for one small detail, I am not lambasting the other side. Instead, my energy is spent trying to improve my side. I have spent my entire voting life on the "Right", extolling the virtues of balancing the budget, lower taxes, smaller government, and a more controlled manner of dealing with even the most difficult of issues. I have been in large auditoriums, filled with mostly white, mostly male, and mostly older followers of a local, statewide, or national candidate. I have contributed to and subscribed to groups supporting small businesses, Chambers of Commerce, or policy groups shared from the national level down. That being said, I feel perfectly suited to point out the hypocrisy which took over the Republican party during the Obama years. When I registered Republican during my college years, the party was working toward "expanding the tent" and often said as much publicly. Over the years, the pendulum has swung back and forth, showcasing the talents of a J.C. Watts, at our national convention. Even daring to bring in a Michael Steele, as the party chair, shortly after the Obama election. I was there to recognize and applaud those efforts. I was there to interpret for myself, the degree to which the party was not being undermined by the undercurrent which has been ever-present since the Civil Rights Laws were passed in the 1960's. That culminated in the 1980's with The Reagan Revolution, which seemingly found ways to appease those who truly aspired to find a balance between the elements of the party seeking diversity and those who truthfully, would rather go a different direction.
In the years that followed Reagan, we (Republicans) had "a thousand points of light" and "compassionate conservatism". I knew what those were and I fully appreciated the outreach, which highlighted talents like General Colin Powell and Condoleezza Rice. I also knew that there were portions of the party which neither agreed with or wanted to see more of the same. Those voices built to a crescendo during the Obama years. An ugly, critical loudness always threatening something more. Some at the top, felt the current changing and tried to find ways to control the venom and animosity that can still be seen daily on social media, as some people refer to our sitting President as a POS (and NO, I will not translate). What I will do is remind anyone reading this that our actions today are always building toward something. Something connected, like a house of cards or a line of dominoes. The tact and empathy that is used when our electoral coin lands on heads, cannot be disconnected from the tails side of that same coin. When the coin is flipped again (read as the next election), the result may differ, but the emotional energy remains woven into our national discourse. As redundant and familiar as this may sound, there is only one America. Despite all the red and blue mapping, and all the juxtaposition of cities versus towns, and black versus white; America is a single place. It is fact that WE, Democrats and Republicans, are the opposite sides of the same coin. That FACT provides us our own instant Karma.
In the coming days and weeks, it will be the turn of the Democratic leaders to stand and denounce rhetoric that goes beyond the norm, and seeks to discredit or undermine our latest President-elect. That request would be awkward, coming from Republican leadership, given the fact that much of that same discord was promulgated from the highest levels of the Republican party during the Obama term. Even as those on my side, confidently offer advice and counsel, on the best ways to tamp down the marches and protest. Those at street level, on the other side, will surely meet that advice with reminders of the past 8 years. Those memories are still fresh! However, at some point, someone has to be the BIGGER person. Even if it is left to people who profess not to believe in God, someone has to exemplify our collective WWJD. Even if politically, this is the perfect time to throw caution to the wind and demonstrate how easily uncontrolled anger can be drawn out of the public at large, where does that end? After all, being out of power, even if only at the Presidential level, completely justifies a scorched earth approach. Right?
STOP!
JUST STOP!
BOTH SIDES....STOP!
We are fully capable of repairing our broken political discourse. But that starts with a genuine understanding that this game has gone beyond damaging our political parties and entered the realm of undermining our institutions. Everyone in America does not know, nor do they need to know, that our Presidential elections are always won by someone who gets about 25 percent of the people inhabiting our GREAT country to vote for them. It is critical that our political leaders know that. Everyone in America does not know that Obamacare was an attempted answer to a question being asked as far back as the 1980's. The average American doesn't need to know that if Obamacare, as that answer, were repealed today, the healthcare cost question would still remain. Yes, it would continue to impact our national debt, the long-term stability of medicare, and the ability of American corporations to justify keeping jobs here rather than export them. Even though everyday citizens don't NEED to know that, our congress does. The average American does not need to know that leaving seats vacant on the Supreme Court, even for 9 months..ish, actually removes the power of the third branch of our government. It's perfectly OK that most Americans don't realize we just had a predictably close election, much like the one we endured in 2000, which was resolved by the Supreme Court. The fact that the Trump campaign filed suit during this actual election, citing irregularities in the electoral process, knowing full well that the benefit of a 5-4 decision was not available because his side (my side) chose to leave a Supreme Court seat vacant, is not reassuring. It is critically important for those in power to make mental note of the bullet that was dodged. We cannot have a constant spinning of the chamber and pulling of the trigger, because Russian roulette always ends ugly if you play long enough. It is a seemingly small thing to have the FBI weighing in during voting. It is an equally small thing, judging by the reaction of the voting public, to have a foreign government attempting to influence an election using Watergate-like stolen campaign files (electronic though they may be). It is a dangerous irony that the benefiting candidate decried daily "this is bigger than Watergate", seemingly failing to understand that some, allies and enemies, were making that same connection.
All these things are behind us today and are things that we need not revisit, especially to the point that they become our norm. However, it is critical (I mean like super-important) that we not allow our politics to degrade our polity and our national discourse. Obamas and Trumps will come and go. We will have ebbs and flows with our parties and our politics too. I recognize, more than most, that often a small subgroup of Americans can pay a large price for the carelessness of a few leaders. Accidents occur most often because no one saw the accident coming. If bending the rules is allowed to become the norm, the accident is no longer an accident. It is a willful and wanton disregard for the importance that government constitutes. Even those who want as little regulation as possible, know that NO order (read as regulation) is not an option. Once that threshold is crossed, being Democrat or Republican ceases to have importance. At that point, the 25 percent of us who feel victorious, and the 50 percent of us who have a party to support and see that as important, will find ourselves outnumbered and overwhelmed by the 75 percent who either lost or did not participate. That larger group will truthfully say and honestly believe "he/she is not my President", or worse still, "I believe this system is unfair and rigged". When random citizens speak in those terms, it has some impact. However, Presidential candidates are not random citizens. Their words and actions are seen, heard, interpreted, and acted upon by varying groups within the citizenry. That is an awesome power, but when misused, it can become awesomely destructive too. WE ARE ONE!
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Saturday, October 22, 2016
Barrack Obama and Mitch McConnell... A Mix of Politics and History
“When I first came into office, the head of the Senate Republicans said, ‘my number one priority is making sure president Obama’s a one-term president.’ Now, after the election, either he will have succeeded in that goal or he will have failed at that goal.”
These words were spoken by Barrack Obama in the weeks and months just prior to his re-election. He was addressing the words spoken by the leader of the senate, Mitch McConnell, immediately following his election as president. Those words were almost certainly meant to convey a message to the Republican base. As a political science major and a minority within that Republican base, I am well aware of another message that it communicates. A message that undermines our ability to attract a larger number of minorities, when it is uttered by the highest ranking member of the party.
First, as I mentioned, I majored in political science, and I enjoyed every minute of it. I was, and still am, the guy who loved reading the history of America's political system and the histories of the men and women who played key roles in it. I was, and still am, the guy who can spend hours watching and interpreting the Sunday morning news shows. I like seeing the people who make and change the weekly headlines, by sharing their opinions and attitudes about our national news. Whether I agree or disagree with the talking heads all across the political spectrum, for me, is not the point. The point is knowing that the Rush Limbaugh's and Rachel Maddow's of the world, both represent and create perspectives for the America in which I live.
However, for me, it is just as important to be aware that my life does not exist in a vacuum and these opinions are not formed in a vacuum. America has a history and that history informs the opinions, tone, and texture of America's politics. While it is more fun and much more comforting, especially for a conservative of color, to assume that the backlash against Barrack Obama is based solely on his politics. History tells a much more colorful story. American politics in the last century can be readily defined as the gradual shifting and changing that has occurred around a few central issues. Within that story, there are two central figures, which are always at play: Race and Religion. In fact, if I listed all the potential reasons why Americans have voted for or against many ballot measures, these two factors would be ranked first and second in that tally.
Much to my dismay, when my Political Science professor posed the question in 1987, "which was the more powerful factor?", it was not religion. Said another way, groups of people who consider themselves "Christians" have not voted together as closely as people who consider themselves for, or against, issues delineated by race'. Example: Being "Christian" has not moved people from the Republican party to the Democratic party, or vice versa. However, being for or against the Civil Rights legislation passed in the 1960's did move millions of people across party lines. That being said, the massive, mostly southern shift that occurred as a result, is one that both political parties are still shaped by today.
When Mitch McConnell stood up and said "his number one priority would be to make certain" that our newly elected President, Obama, "would be a one term president", he was also communicating something else. In a way, he is paying homage to the political transformation that occurred across the southern United States following the passage of the Civil Rights legislation. Even fifty years later, Senator McConnell chose to remind the generations of former Southern Democrats of the very reason they are now Republicans. Sadly, whether we are students of history or, like the vast majority, just living our lives, Mr. McConnell's words impact us. Even those of us who refuse to allow a debate, resolved before we were born, to dictate our political positions or ideological preferences were dragged back into the rehashing of history. Fifty years can be a lifetime, but fifty years is but a moment in the history of mankind.
Strictly from a political standpoint, I recognized what Senator McConnell was doing. As a student of history, I know that he wanted to reassure the Republican base that all was not lost and that the fight would be ongoing. However, I wonder if looking back on it today, with Donald J Trump now seated in the Whitehouse, McConnell wishes he had chosen an issue-based focus rather than making everything personally about Obama. For my money, the Republican leadership completely overplayed their hand. By focusing everything on being anti-Obama, while not having a single piece of legislative or budgetary excellence to recall during Obama's re-election campaign, Republicans (and not just Mitt Romney) made a second term inevitable. Voting and re-voting to repeal the Affordable Care Act (and even branding it Obamacare) has not borne much fruit, other than with the most conservative people within the party. Meanwhile, a laundry list of military triumphs, legislative achievements, and fiscal accomplishments, have brought the country back to a vaguely familiar place. The trend lines resemble the Clinton years, with a little less growth and far less scandal. Furthermore, because the Obama administration has largely avoided scandals, Obama has not become the easy target that Bill Clinton was by this point in his administration.
In retrospect, I hope McConnell recognizes the opportunity he missed. By playing to the worst instincts of the Republican base, while making everything about Barrack Obama, it was McConnell who began the roll out of the red carpet for Trump. Sure, the constant drumbeat of negativity and the refusal to acknowledge a single accomplishment of Obama's kept his poll numbers relatively low. Sure, having almost every Republican governor avoid being seen with him, even as storms and floods impacted their states, has impacted his popularity nationwide. However, the enormous amount of political clout wasted trying to make Obama look bad, has not left the Republican party unscathed. In fact, the Republican Party is on more shaky ground than at any time in modern history.
If anyone had told me in 1987, that one day the single most recognizable figure in the Republican Party would be Donald Trump, I would have laughed. Mostly because Trump was not even a Republican in the 1980's. That fact aside, the 1980's Republican Party included unmatched political thinkers: Newt Gingrich, Phil Gramm, William F. Buckley, Jack Kemp, George Will and the list could go on and on.
Truth be told, it was the University of Oklahoma connection, represented by J.C.Watts, that went a long way toward opening my mind. I feel confident, not one of those guys would choose a former Russian KGB agent over a sitting American president, even if that president was Barrack Obama.
It is an illogical reality that the current American President would compare the sitting President unfavorably with a Cold War adversary seeking to re-establish his country's position on the global stage. That is a reality co-sponsored by the current leader of the U.S. Senate. The ultimate political miscalculation was delivered with a smile that surely belied the opening of this Pandora's box. Mitch McConnell's miscalculation of the long term consequences of an off -the-cuff remark about a new President has become this. Whatever this now is?
The one lesson that I am certain will be learned in the coming election cycles is that we must forever resist the temptation to go backward. As a Republican Party, we cannot afford political blunders. We cannot fall victim to the one, ever present, temptation that came with the influx of millions of new members from the 1980's forward. Without a positive theme, platform, or a guiding principle, pulling us toward a well-planned future, we will always be subject to fall back. At a time when we need ALL HANDS ON DECK, we cannot be divided by some reverence for the past. The world will not wait for the United States to get our act together. We cannot be admired for moving forward and leading, while secretly longing to go back.
These words were spoken by Barrack Obama in the weeks and months just prior to his re-election. He was addressing the words spoken by the leader of the senate, Mitch McConnell, immediately following his election as president. Those words were almost certainly meant to convey a message to the Republican base. As a political science major and a minority within that Republican base, I am well aware of another message that it communicates. A message that undermines our ability to attract a larger number of minorities, when it is uttered by the highest ranking member of the party.
First, as I mentioned, I majored in political science, and I enjoyed every minute of it. I was, and still am, the guy who loved reading the history of America's political system and the histories of the men and women who played key roles in it. I was, and still am, the guy who can spend hours watching and interpreting the Sunday morning news shows. I like seeing the people who make and change the weekly headlines, by sharing their opinions and attitudes about our national news. Whether I agree or disagree with the talking heads all across the political spectrum, for me, is not the point. The point is knowing that the Rush Limbaugh's and Rachel Maddow's of the world, both represent and create perspectives for the America in which I live.
However, for me, it is just as important to be aware that my life does not exist in a vacuum and these opinions are not formed in a vacuum. America has a history and that history informs the opinions, tone, and texture of America's politics. While it is more fun and much more comforting, especially for a conservative of color, to assume that the backlash against Barrack Obama is based solely on his politics. History tells a much more colorful story. American politics in the last century can be readily defined as the gradual shifting and changing that has occurred around a few central issues. Within that story, there are two central figures, which are always at play: Race and Religion. In fact, if I listed all the potential reasons why Americans have voted for or against many ballot measures, these two factors would be ranked first and second in that tally.
Much to my dismay, when my Political Science professor posed the question in 1987, "which was the more powerful factor?", it was not religion. Said another way, groups of people who consider themselves "Christians" have not voted together as closely as people who consider themselves for, or against, issues delineated by race'. Example: Being "Christian" has not moved people from the Republican party to the Democratic party, or vice versa. However, being for or against the Civil Rights legislation passed in the 1960's did move millions of people across party lines. That being said, the massive, mostly southern shift that occurred as a result, is one that both political parties are still shaped by today.
When Mitch McConnell stood up and said "his number one priority would be to make certain" that our newly elected President, Obama, "would be a one term president", he was also communicating something else. In a way, he is paying homage to the political transformation that occurred across the southern United States following the passage of the Civil Rights legislation. Even fifty years later, Senator McConnell chose to remind the generations of former Southern Democrats of the very reason they are now Republicans. Sadly, whether we are students of history or, like the vast majority, just living our lives, Mr. McConnell's words impact us. Even those of us who refuse to allow a debate, resolved before we were born, to dictate our political positions or ideological preferences were dragged back into the rehashing of history. Fifty years can be a lifetime, but fifty years is but a moment in the history of mankind.
Strictly from a political standpoint, I recognized what Senator McConnell was doing. As a student of history, I know that he wanted to reassure the Republican base that all was not lost and that the fight would be ongoing. However, I wonder if looking back on it today, with Donald J Trump now seated in the Whitehouse, McConnell wishes he had chosen an issue-based focus rather than making everything personally about Obama. For my money, the Republican leadership completely overplayed their hand. By focusing everything on being anti-Obama, while not having a single piece of legislative or budgetary excellence to recall during Obama's re-election campaign, Republicans (and not just Mitt Romney) made a second term inevitable. Voting and re-voting to repeal the Affordable Care Act (and even branding it Obamacare) has not borne much fruit, other than with the most conservative people within the party. Meanwhile, a laundry list of military triumphs, legislative achievements, and fiscal accomplishments, have brought the country back to a vaguely familiar place. The trend lines resemble the Clinton years, with a little less growth and far less scandal. Furthermore, because the Obama administration has largely avoided scandals, Obama has not become the easy target that Bill Clinton was by this point in his administration.
In retrospect, I hope McConnell recognizes the opportunity he missed. By playing to the worst instincts of the Republican base, while making everything about Barrack Obama, it was McConnell who began the roll out of the red carpet for Trump. Sure, the constant drumbeat of negativity and the refusal to acknowledge a single accomplishment of Obama's kept his poll numbers relatively low. Sure, having almost every Republican governor avoid being seen with him, even as storms and floods impacted their states, has impacted his popularity nationwide. However, the enormous amount of political clout wasted trying to make Obama look bad, has not left the Republican party unscathed. In fact, the Republican Party is on more shaky ground than at any time in modern history.
If anyone had told me in 1987, that one day the single most recognizable figure in the Republican Party would be Donald Trump, I would have laughed. Mostly because Trump was not even a Republican in the 1980's. That fact aside, the 1980's Republican Party included unmatched political thinkers: Newt Gingrich, Phil Gramm, William F. Buckley, Jack Kemp, George Will and the list could go on and on.
Truth be told, it was the University of Oklahoma connection, represented by J.C.Watts, that went a long way toward opening my mind. I feel confident, not one of those guys would choose a former Russian KGB agent over a sitting American president, even if that president was Barrack Obama.
It is an illogical reality that the current American President would compare the sitting President unfavorably with a Cold War adversary seeking to re-establish his country's position on the global stage. That is a reality co-sponsored by the current leader of the U.S. Senate. The ultimate political miscalculation was delivered with a smile that surely belied the opening of this Pandora's box. Mitch McConnell's miscalculation of the long term consequences of an off -the-cuff remark about a new President has become this. Whatever this now is?
The one lesson that I am certain will be learned in the coming election cycles is that we must forever resist the temptation to go backward. As a Republican Party, we cannot afford political blunders. We cannot fall victim to the one, ever present, temptation that came with the influx of millions of new members from the 1980's forward. Without a positive theme, platform, or a guiding principle, pulling us toward a well-planned future, we will always be subject to fall back. At a time when we need ALL HANDS ON DECK, we cannot be divided by some reverence for the past. The world will not wait for the United States to get our act together. We cannot be admired for moving forward and leading, while secretly longing to go back.
Saturday, September 24, 2016
Phil and The Blanks...originally posted 1/26/13.
Funny how the things we take for granted, or fail to fully appreciate, later become the things that give life shape and texture. I will never forget the first time I saw Phil & The Blanks. It was at a club called the "U Club" in Norman, OK and I think it was the grand opening. It was like stepping into a John Hughes film, before that was an iconic place to be. A good friend had been telling me about this club and the band that would be performing there. It was within walking distance (not that we ever actually walked) of my apartment. Not really sure what the atmosphere would be, I was not sure whether my dance shoes would be needed or more laid back attire, to watch a live band. It turned out to be the latter, but that was an easily forgotten side-note to many incredible nights.
The atmosphere started right at the front door, where I saw my first faux-hawk. This combination of a Mohawk and some sort of curl (which I will resist the temptation to characterize) was pretty impressive to this Oklahoma City kid. My imagination had not yet ventured beyond bland Afro or a clean-shaved head. Keep in mind, this is the 1980's and I am talking about a black guy with Flock of Seagulls-styled hair. Not many people could pull that off. This doorman did it with ease.
Who had the audacity to open a night club on the east side of Norman? Slightly farther away from the OU college campus than seemed practical and, because it was in the opposite direction from the interstate, seemingly in an odd spot for a night club. Not sure what to expect, both my friend and I played it safe with basic Harold's attire.
Harold's was a mens clothier, on campus corner at the University of Oklahoma , the likes of which seems impossible to find in 2013. It was required living (for many OU students and former students) in the 1980's. From my first time inside this store, I thought it would be a part of my life forever. Two words: "Shut" "Up". Who would have thought? A clothier where a person could be measured and tailored to fit, on the corner of a college campus. What's more, they offered bottled Coca-cola to their customers, at no extra charge. Really, they could have offered a 100 level college course in fashion basics. I had finally found a place, where seemingly anything from the fashion pages of GQ could be obtained. I mean, who knew that wool came in light, medium, and winter weights? Not I! Who knew that the plaid patterns actually had names, like tartan, glen, and my personal favorite, black-watch? I was very familiar with the characteristics of cotton; washable and low maintenance. But I was not aware that other fabrics, like rayon and linen, had pros and cons too. Most important, who knew that buying higher quality clothing meant that 25 years later, I would still have some of this clothing around (and as comfortable as ever). Someone should have offered an entry level course in this stuff, Harold's 101. I took it, but my transcript never seemed to show my credits.
Pardon my digression. As I was saying, Harold's attire was a safe bet for most things and this night club was no exception. Denim shirts, dress pants, and Cole Haan shoes seemed to be the order of this and many nights to come. My friend and I were both safely adorned with the correct attire on many such nights, but I took pride in venturing off the map from time to time. Nothing like mixing in some brightly colored plaid pants to bring out those looks that seemed to say, "who is this clown"? (See Andre 3000 on the interior cover of the Speakerboxx album).
Truth be told, I took a peek or two at the front door, trying to see who this guy was with the confidence to wear a faux-hawk. I would later find out that he was a Norman High graduate, who was friends not only with the club owner and band, but with a large number of what became "the regulars". While the doorman was cool, at least in my book, the show-stopper on this night would be the most understated band I had seen to this point in my young life. With a name like Phil & The Blanks, I was fully prepared to be underwhelmed. When they took the stage, dressed like everyone else in the club, I expected a dud. Instead, I was treated to a night of songs from beyond my own expanded repertoire. I would later find that most of these songs were not originals, as I had thought, but were from European bands, some of whom I was not yet familiar. Songs with lyrics that could and did take me to places far beyond the fours walls of the "U Club". As someone who had loved music for as long as I could remember, it was an unbelievable experience to hear mellow songs in succession that lulled the crowd, and me, into a non-drug-induced state of chill-laxed. Okay, maybe we weren't quite chill-laxed in the 80's, but the music was.
Later this same year, I would be treated to the Dallas, TX version of our little club, complete with unisex bathrooms and people who fully appreciated the Robert Smith character before I knew he existed. On this night, however, I would happily settle for the lyrics and riffs of some of my future favorites:
"say goodbye on a night like this
if its the last thing we ever do
you never looked as lost as this
sometimes it doesn't even look like you
It goes dark, it goes darker still
please stay
and I watch you like I'm made of stone
as you walk away"
At a time when hard hitting riffs seemed to be the order of the day, epicurean and esoteric lyrics quickly became my preference. Songs that left me wondering if the meaning I found was the intended meaning of the writer. Apparently, I was not the only one who felt this way, because the original songs from the band seemed to follow this same quirky style and there was no shortage of applause when each song ended. Songs with relaxing rhythms and dramatic lyrics seemed to flow all night from a 4/5 piece band, which included a keyboard on songs that required one.
"bring on the dancing horses
headless and all alone
shiver and say the words
to every lie you've heard
first I'm gonna make it
then I'm gonna break it till it falls apart
hating all the faking
and I'm shaking
while I'm breaking your brittle heart"
Somewhere in my mind, there was a world where it would be possible to live in this space and time forever. Three point two was the number that opened the door to that world, on this night. Once inside, I was forced to confront a reality that still remains true to this day, at least for me. Sometimes a bar stool and a band were as good as life got. A place where the music captured more than riffs and lyrics and atmosphere. A place where common bonds are easily forged through shared amazement with uncommon vocal talent or good lyrics over great music. Most importantly, a place where people, including myself, let their guards down just long enough to find the good in the person on the next bar stool (or sofa, when those seats were available). If only we could somehow capture these moments and sprinkle them into the monotony that would surely return with the coming days lectures, test, and homework. What would it be like to venture onto the other end of the pen that wrote lyrics describing the great escape that we had found, but could only manage to capture for a few fleeting moments on nights like this.
" I was on the outside when you said
you said you needed me
I was looking at myself
I was blind, I could not see
A boy tries hard to be a man
his mother takes him by the hand
If he stops to think, he starts to cry
oh why?"
For this semester, The "U Club" was our escape into music. Our tour guide was Phil & The Blanks, who would remain on the scene well after the "U Club" vanished. Lesson: Some time wasted can turn into time well spent and great memories.
Songs above:
1) The Cure from the album Head on The Door (1985)
2) Echo & The Bunnymen from the album Songs to Learn and Sing (1985)
3) U2 from the album Boy (1980)
The atmosphere started right at the front door, where I saw my first faux-hawk. This combination of a Mohawk and some sort of curl (which I will resist the temptation to characterize) was pretty impressive to this Oklahoma City kid. My imagination had not yet ventured beyond bland Afro or a clean-shaved head. Keep in mind, this is the 1980's and I am talking about a black guy with Flock of Seagulls-styled hair. Not many people could pull that off. This doorman did it with ease.
Who had the audacity to open a night club on the east side of Norman? Slightly farther away from the OU college campus than seemed practical and, because it was in the opposite direction from the interstate, seemingly in an odd spot for a night club. Not sure what to expect, both my friend and I played it safe with basic Harold's attire.
Harold's was a mens clothier, on campus corner at the University of Oklahoma , the likes of which seems impossible to find in 2013. It was required living (for many OU students and former students) in the 1980's. From my first time inside this store, I thought it would be a part of my life forever. Two words: "Shut" "Up". Who would have thought? A clothier where a person could be measured and tailored to fit, on the corner of a college campus. What's more, they offered bottled Coca-cola to their customers, at no extra charge. Really, they could have offered a 100 level college course in fashion basics. I had finally found a place, where seemingly anything from the fashion pages of GQ could be obtained. I mean, who knew that wool came in light, medium, and winter weights? Not I! Who knew that the plaid patterns actually had names, like tartan, glen, and my personal favorite, black-watch? I was very familiar with the characteristics of cotton; washable and low maintenance. But I was not aware that other fabrics, like rayon and linen, had pros and cons too. Most important, who knew that buying higher quality clothing meant that 25 years later, I would still have some of this clothing around (and as comfortable as ever). Someone should have offered an entry level course in this stuff, Harold's 101. I took it, but my transcript never seemed to show my credits.
Pardon my digression. As I was saying, Harold's attire was a safe bet for most things and this night club was no exception. Denim shirts, dress pants, and Cole Haan shoes seemed to be the order of this and many nights to come. My friend and I were both safely adorned with the correct attire on many such nights, but I took pride in venturing off the map from time to time. Nothing like mixing in some brightly colored plaid pants to bring out those looks that seemed to say, "who is this clown"? (See Andre 3000 on the interior cover of the Speakerboxx album).
Truth be told, I took a peek or two at the front door, trying to see who this guy was with the confidence to wear a faux-hawk. I would later find out that he was a Norman High graduate, who was friends not only with the club owner and band, but with a large number of what became "the regulars". While the doorman was cool, at least in my book, the show-stopper on this night would be the most understated band I had seen to this point in my young life. With a name like Phil & The Blanks, I was fully prepared to be underwhelmed. When they took the stage, dressed like everyone else in the club, I expected a dud. Instead, I was treated to a night of songs from beyond my own expanded repertoire. I would later find that most of these songs were not originals, as I had thought, but were from European bands, some of whom I was not yet familiar. Songs with lyrics that could and did take me to places far beyond the fours walls of the "U Club". As someone who had loved music for as long as I could remember, it was an unbelievable experience to hear mellow songs in succession that lulled the crowd, and me, into a non-drug-induced state of chill-laxed. Okay, maybe we weren't quite chill-laxed in the 80's, but the music was.
Later this same year, I would be treated to the Dallas, TX version of our little club, complete with unisex bathrooms and people who fully appreciated the Robert Smith character before I knew he existed. On this night, however, I would happily settle for the lyrics and riffs of some of my future favorites:
"say goodbye on a night like this
if its the last thing we ever do
you never looked as lost as this
sometimes it doesn't even look like you
It goes dark, it goes darker still
please stay
and I watch you like I'm made of stone
as you walk away"
At a time when hard hitting riffs seemed to be the order of the day, epicurean and esoteric lyrics quickly became my preference. Songs that left me wondering if the meaning I found was the intended meaning of the writer. Apparently, I was not the only one who felt this way, because the original songs from the band seemed to follow this same quirky style and there was no shortage of applause when each song ended. Songs with relaxing rhythms and dramatic lyrics seemed to flow all night from a 4/5 piece band, which included a keyboard on songs that required one.
"bring on the dancing horses
headless and all alone
shiver and say the words
to every lie you've heard
first I'm gonna make it
then I'm gonna break it till it falls apart
hating all the faking
and I'm shaking
while I'm breaking your brittle heart"
Somewhere in my mind, there was a world where it would be possible to live in this space and time forever. Three point two was the number that opened the door to that world, on this night. Once inside, I was forced to confront a reality that still remains true to this day, at least for me. Sometimes a bar stool and a band were as good as life got. A place where the music captured more than riffs and lyrics and atmosphere. A place where common bonds are easily forged through shared amazement with uncommon vocal talent or good lyrics over great music. Most importantly, a place where people, including myself, let their guards down just long enough to find the good in the person on the next bar stool (or sofa, when those seats were available). If only we could somehow capture these moments and sprinkle them into the monotony that would surely return with the coming days lectures, test, and homework. What would it be like to venture onto the other end of the pen that wrote lyrics describing the great escape that we had found, but could only manage to capture for a few fleeting moments on nights like this.
" I was on the outside when you said
you said you needed me
I was looking at myself
I was blind, I could not see
A boy tries hard to be a man
his mother takes him by the hand
If he stops to think, he starts to cry
oh why?"
For this semester, The "U Club" was our escape into music. Our tour guide was Phil & The Blanks, who would remain on the scene well after the "U Club" vanished. Lesson: Some time wasted can turn into time well spent and great memories.
Songs above:
1) The Cure from the album Head on The Door (1985)
2) Echo & The Bunnymen from the album Songs to Learn and Sing (1985)
3) U2 from the album Boy (1980)
Our Lady Peace: A Canadian Excursion...originally posted 5/21/14.
How cool would it be to get to see one of my new favorite bands in concert in another country? That was the question I kept asking myself when I heard on Canadian radio that Everclear was touring with some band called Our Lady Peace. All I could think of was how impressed the Canadians would be with a great band from Portland, Oregon. Well, that and how lucky I was to have the opportunity to see them live, while working in Ontario, Canada.
So when I returned to the office, after my day in the field ended, I immediately began asking around to recruit some of my fellow workers for what I was sure would be a great show. The only thing was whenever I mentioned Everclear, what came back was mostly confused stares. It was only after a brief attempt to describe the band and a mention of their opening act, Our Lady Peace, that I found no shortage of people wanting to attend. Most insisted on correcting me first and saying there was no way that Our Lady Peace would be opening for anyone in Canada. After some discussion on the merits of Everclear, who several of my new acquaintances from Toronto insisted on calling Euclid, we agreed on a plan to purchase tickets for about 10 people. Since the concert was almost 4 weeks away, the band comparison became an almost daily discussion.
From my perspective, there was no comparison between the two bands. I had been introduced to Everclear in 1995, when I heard their song Santa Monica while riding in a friend's car in Norman, OK. At the time, it was hard for me to believe that a 3 piece band could have such a rich sound. That statement seems absurd, once you consider that I was now across the U.S. border to the north and was actually having this discussion with a group of workers from Toronto. Duh! It seems that Canada has never been short on talented musical trios. Both Triumph and Rush hail from Canada and both are 3 piece bands with huge a sound. Both are also bands that I became very familiar with during my high school years in south Oklahoma City. That being said, the comparisons stopped there. Triumph was formed in 1975 and most popular in the 1980's, about the same time as Rush. With songs like Lay It On The Line, Fight The Good Fight, and Magic Power; Triumph established themselves as a very capable band with adoring fans on both sides of America's northern border. Not to be outdone, Rush, at the time of my writing, has been inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Rush created music that was almost cosmic in nature and could take the listener up close for a battle over sunlight and supremacy between species of trees in the forest. Bringing their fans along for a lyrical ride in a Red Barchetta with such great detail that one could feel the "screaming engine" and imagine "screaming through the valley" being chased by police cars. This was the Canadian music history I knew, but had briefly forgotten in the heat of my defense of Everclear. Luckily none of my compatriots were old enough to fully appreciate either Triumph or Rush.
Everclear, on the other hand, was built in the 1990's on candy-coated rock music. The lyrics from lead singer and guitarist, Art Alexakis, were designed to make very deep and difficult topics paletable for the general public. With topics ranging from abandonment as a child (Pale Green Stars) to a relative's suicide (Queen of the Air), the artful crafting and layout of the songs often left me dancing moreso than properly disturbed by the images just beyond the melody. For me, that was pure, unabashed genius. Like a friend walking up and saying "the absolute worst thing ever happened to me today" and then somehow explaining it to me so that I felt good about it. Everclear songs often started slow, then built to the brink of chaos, before finding a soft place to land. For my ear, at the time, this was good stuff. I couldn't wait to see the stage show and to see all the Canadian mouth's agape in sheer delight. As an added bonus, I would be getting to see the up and coming Canadian band, Our Lady Peace.
One of the neat things about Canada is that the radio stations are required to play a certain number of Canadian acts hourly, or at least they were in the late 1990's. I was told the law was passed to prevent their brothers down south from usurping their entertainment market completely. At any rate, it was good for me, while driving around the countryside, to get to know some of the Canadian bands. Of those bands, at the time, this Our Lady Peace outfit seemed to be most consistently hitting their stride. With a new album entitled Clumsy, and songs on the radio like the title track and Superman's Dead, it was clear that the band was talented. But translating studio work to the stage can be a bit tricky and I had never heard of Our Lady Peace prior to this trip, so how good could they possibly be?
The answer came after Everclear had left the stage. To my surprise, they had actually been the opening act and not the headliner. But when the stage was finally set for Our Lady Peace and their introduction was complete, I could not hear anything that I,or anyone in my group was saying for the roar. I also noticed, for the first time on this night, that the Corel Center had a 3rd level and I could see smiling faces peering down from it in adoration of the stage performers. I would spend the next couple of hours learning that this band, of whom I had never heard, was something truly special. They performed with a screen behind them that showed short films. The films were like grainy, silent movies and depicted an elderly man wearing pale-face and lipstick, who seemed to be some lost circus performer. He also seemed to be the character upon which many of their songs, at least for their latest album, were based. A sad figure, like those often depicted in silent movies, he was not the center of attention, but an ever-present side show in his own life. The band, however, was the center of attention and played great song after great song. They managed to achieve that studio quality sound that often leaves the audience wondering if it is live (or Memorex, for those of us old enough to get that reference).
Needless to say, more than a decade later, both my sons,who were not even born at the time, recognize Our Lady Peace songs when we stumble across them on the radio. Also, I was forced to admit that the Canadians had actually won our little wager over which part of the concert would be the best. For my concert going friends, who love live music and refuse to accept the fact that time is catching up with us quickly; if you get the chance to see Our Lady Peace, do yourself a favor and don't be late. Better still, don't leave it up to chance, the albums and songs are available for download and I can attest to the fact that some of them will stick with you for a very long time, maybe forever.
So when I returned to the office, after my day in the field ended, I immediately began asking around to recruit some of my fellow workers for what I was sure would be a great show. The only thing was whenever I mentioned Everclear, what came back was mostly confused stares. It was only after a brief attempt to describe the band and a mention of their opening act, Our Lady Peace, that I found no shortage of people wanting to attend. Most insisted on correcting me first and saying there was no way that Our Lady Peace would be opening for anyone in Canada. After some discussion on the merits of Everclear, who several of my new acquaintances from Toronto insisted on calling Euclid, we agreed on a plan to purchase tickets for about 10 people. Since the concert was almost 4 weeks away, the band comparison became an almost daily discussion.
From my perspective, there was no comparison between the two bands. I had been introduced to Everclear in 1995, when I heard their song Santa Monica while riding in a friend's car in Norman, OK. At the time, it was hard for me to believe that a 3 piece band could have such a rich sound. That statement seems absurd, once you consider that I was now across the U.S. border to the north and was actually having this discussion with a group of workers from Toronto. Duh! It seems that Canada has never been short on talented musical trios. Both Triumph and Rush hail from Canada and both are 3 piece bands with huge a sound. Both are also bands that I became very familiar with during my high school years in south Oklahoma City. That being said, the comparisons stopped there. Triumph was formed in 1975 and most popular in the 1980's, about the same time as Rush. With songs like Lay It On The Line, Fight The Good Fight, and Magic Power; Triumph established themselves as a very capable band with adoring fans on both sides of America's northern border. Not to be outdone, Rush, at the time of my writing, has been inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Rush created music that was almost cosmic in nature and could take the listener up close for a battle over sunlight and supremacy between species of trees in the forest. Bringing their fans along for a lyrical ride in a Red Barchetta with such great detail that one could feel the "screaming engine" and imagine "screaming through the valley" being chased by police cars. This was the Canadian music history I knew, but had briefly forgotten in the heat of my defense of Everclear. Luckily none of my compatriots were old enough to fully appreciate either Triumph or Rush.
Everclear, on the other hand, was built in the 1990's on candy-coated rock music. The lyrics from lead singer and guitarist, Art Alexakis, were designed to make very deep and difficult topics paletable for the general public. With topics ranging from abandonment as a child (Pale Green Stars) to a relative's suicide (Queen of the Air), the artful crafting and layout of the songs often left me dancing moreso than properly disturbed by the images just beyond the melody. For me, that was pure, unabashed genius. Like a friend walking up and saying "the absolute worst thing ever happened to me today" and then somehow explaining it to me so that I felt good about it. Everclear songs often started slow, then built to the brink of chaos, before finding a soft place to land. For my ear, at the time, this was good stuff. I couldn't wait to see the stage show and to see all the Canadian mouth's agape in sheer delight. As an added bonus, I would be getting to see the up and coming Canadian band, Our Lady Peace.
One of the neat things about Canada is that the radio stations are required to play a certain number of Canadian acts hourly, or at least they were in the late 1990's. I was told the law was passed to prevent their brothers down south from usurping their entertainment market completely. At any rate, it was good for me, while driving around the countryside, to get to know some of the Canadian bands. Of those bands, at the time, this Our Lady Peace outfit seemed to be most consistently hitting their stride. With a new album entitled Clumsy, and songs on the radio like the title track and Superman's Dead, it was clear that the band was talented. But translating studio work to the stage can be a bit tricky and I had never heard of Our Lady Peace prior to this trip, so how good could they possibly be?
The answer came after Everclear had left the stage. To my surprise, they had actually been the opening act and not the headliner. But when the stage was finally set for Our Lady Peace and their introduction was complete, I could not hear anything that I,or anyone in my group was saying for the roar. I also noticed, for the first time on this night, that the Corel Center had a 3rd level and I could see smiling faces peering down from it in adoration of the stage performers. I would spend the next couple of hours learning that this band, of whom I had never heard, was something truly special. They performed with a screen behind them that showed short films. The films were like grainy, silent movies and depicted an elderly man wearing pale-face and lipstick, who seemed to be some lost circus performer. He also seemed to be the character upon which many of their songs, at least for their latest album, were based. A sad figure, like those often depicted in silent movies, he was not the center of attention, but an ever-present side show in his own life. The band, however, was the center of attention and played great song after great song. They managed to achieve that studio quality sound that often leaves the audience wondering if it is live (or Memorex, for those of us old enough to get that reference).
Needless to say, more than a decade later, both my sons,who were not even born at the time, recognize Our Lady Peace songs when we stumble across them on the radio. Also, I was forced to admit that the Canadians had actually won our little wager over which part of the concert would be the best. For my concert going friends, who love live music and refuse to accept the fact that time is catching up with us quickly; if you get the chance to see Our Lady Peace, do yourself a favor and don't be late. Better still, don't leave it up to chance, the albums and songs are available for download and I can attest to the fact that some of them will stick with you for a very long time, maybe forever.
Apples, Oranges, and Bananas: Taking Sides on Race and Losing OurFreedoms...originally posted 8/25/14.
I am not always at my best. That fact is what makes me human. However, that does not mean that I should not strive to be at my best. Often times, at the worst possible moments, when life has called me to step up and be a leader, I have chosen instead to follow the group. Other times, when trust, faith, and positive thoughts were required, all I could muster was incredulity.
One day, while walking down the hall of my high school, I saw a crowd gathered around two girls fighting. One of the girls happened to be brown (according to Crayola, see also African American or whatever the latest incorrect reference is) and the other white. Without thinking, I stepped in to break up the fight. Some of the people watching were not impressed that I had broken it up. Some even suggested that I had been more harsh on the brown girl than the white girl and some discussion ensued along those lines. I couldn't help thinking how lost some kids were to think along racial lines when people are hurting each other. Besides, I felt pretty safe breaking up a fight between two girls, who were younger and presumably weaker than me.
Fast forward 30 years...I am driving home, with my wife and two boys, from a weekend visiting relatives in Texas. We had stopped at a gas station to get gas. When I got out of the car to pump the gas, I heard a loud voice yelling something. I looked over to find a well built, young man, who must have been in his early twenties, yelling at what looked like a high school kid. Upon further inspection, I noticed that the mother and younger sister of the teenager were standing helplessly nearby. As the yelling voice became louder and louder, I looked down the rows of people pumping gas to see why no one was stepping in to diffuse the situation. As the older of these two young men, became more agitated and angry, he began yelling at the mother also. Meanwhile, the sister had begun crying. It was all I could do to stop myself from rushing into a fight, that I felt sure would not end well for me. Then, like in slow motion, it happened. The twenty-something, who had been yelling, hit the kid on the side of his face and head. The kid, clearly in shock, stood there red faced and now crying, as the older guy began moving around as if a fight had commenced. Then, I saw a single man, walking toward the doors of the convenience store. When he got close, he exchanged words with the older, more aggressive young man, and soon he found himself punched also. A small, skirmish ensued and I found myself running full speed toward the fight. As I approached, I began yelling "break it up, break it up". Although, by this time, I was really angry myself and my adrenaline was definitely flowing. Two things crossed my mind: 1) I am the only person of color (other than my wife and kids) anywhere around and 2) if the police show up, they will probably assume that I am somehow at fault here. Luckily, for me, by the time I got to the fight, they were falling and I braced their fall and then helped hold the aggressor down until he was calm. At this point, he got up, and with a little coaxing, walked away. I went back to my now filled car, got inside, started it up, and drove away. I was thankful that the police had not arrived and I had not had to explain myself. I was also curious as to whether the convenience store workers had called the police to report their now broken storefront glass.
For the next 30 or 40 miles, I heard from my wife, who had yelled my name as I was running toward the fight, that my decision there had probably not been one of my best. She laid out for me, in some detail, all of the potential pitfalls of my actions, including the fact that I might have been injured or worse, since I had no idea who any of these people were. In that instant, without really thinking it through, I said the following:
"When I saw that mother and sister standing there helplessly, I thought of you and the boys. Maybe you were in a convenience store one day and one of the boys stepped on some one's shoe or said something about them shoplifting (as kids will do) and this was you standing out there, with me no where around. Maybe, some stranger stepped in to help, because he felt some sense of obligation, and was overtaken by the younger, stronger, angrier man. I will never drive away from that. Yes, that means someday you may see me hurt or worse. But you will not see me standing by and watching when I am needed, even by strangers."
Great speech, right?
Yet, I have asked myself 50 times, what would I have done if I saw three strong men jumping an off duty cop, who was tasked with making them leave the bar? That specific situation occurred recently in Oklahoma City. What would I have done if the guy looked a little more menacing, maybe a tattoo sleeve or some sign that he was in a gang? Would I have offered help? What would I have done if there were 5 policeman subduing a large man on the pavement as he insisted that he could not breathe?
I am writing this story now for one reason and one reason only. Every day on Facebook and Twitter, I see new people posting stories of either police shooting people of color or young men of color killing other people. Often, those posting are people I like, know personally, and respect. These are generally speaking, intelligent people, so caught up in the moment that they have begun comparing apples, oranges, and bananas. The question posed most often in the subject of the post: "where is the outrage"? I encourage people on both sides of this debate, especially people of good conscience (some might use the word Christians), to think twice about what you post. Stop and think, "outrage" is not needed for crimes that are solved. When people are arrested, their cases adjudicated, and their innocence or guilt decided. Why would we be outraged at a justice system that has done what it was designed to do?
"Outrage" should rightfully be reserved for the lives: young, old, white, black, or any other color; which are taken AND the world moves on, as though nothing happened".
People of good conscience have plenty in this world to be outraged about, like the countless crimes that are never solved. Outrage should be reserved for crimes that are allowed to continue for years because no one cared enough to connect the dots. Outrage should be saved for the growing numbers of cowards who kill innocent people, and then themselves, in the name of some distorted ideology. What we do not need to be outraged about is criminals who are caught and punished. The reason we are not outraged about that is because "apples" are not "oranges", and if you think they are, you are "bananas".
In our world today, we could use fewer bananas: who still insist on diverting resources from the very real "war on terrorism" to our very fake "war on drugs", which targets specific communities and groups of people for heavy punishment, while ignoring statistics which show just how widespread drug use/abuse has become. Bananas: who complain about high taxes, but are perfectly content spending four or five times more to incarcerate a person than to educate that same person. Bananas: who think that laws like "stop and frisk" are great laws, mainly because they cannot fathom anyone in their family or friend circle actually being stopped and frisked. For once, I think we should all just pass on the fruit salad and get back to healthier things.
One day, while walking down the hall of my high school, I saw a crowd gathered around two girls fighting. One of the girls happened to be brown (according to Crayola, see also African American or whatever the latest incorrect reference is) and the other white. Without thinking, I stepped in to break up the fight. Some of the people watching were not impressed that I had broken it up. Some even suggested that I had been more harsh on the brown girl than the white girl and some discussion ensued along those lines. I couldn't help thinking how lost some kids were to think along racial lines when people are hurting each other. Besides, I felt pretty safe breaking up a fight between two girls, who were younger and presumably weaker than me.
Fast forward 30 years...I am driving home, with my wife and two boys, from a weekend visiting relatives in Texas. We had stopped at a gas station to get gas. When I got out of the car to pump the gas, I heard a loud voice yelling something. I looked over to find a well built, young man, who must have been in his early twenties, yelling at what looked like a high school kid. Upon further inspection, I noticed that the mother and younger sister of the teenager were standing helplessly nearby. As the yelling voice became louder and louder, I looked down the rows of people pumping gas to see why no one was stepping in to diffuse the situation. As the older of these two young men, became more agitated and angry, he began yelling at the mother also. Meanwhile, the sister had begun crying. It was all I could do to stop myself from rushing into a fight, that I felt sure would not end well for me. Then, like in slow motion, it happened. The twenty-something, who had been yelling, hit the kid on the side of his face and head. The kid, clearly in shock, stood there red faced and now crying, as the older guy began moving around as if a fight had commenced. Then, I saw a single man, walking toward the doors of the convenience store. When he got close, he exchanged words with the older, more aggressive young man, and soon he found himself punched also. A small, skirmish ensued and I found myself running full speed toward the fight. As I approached, I began yelling "break it up, break it up". Although, by this time, I was really angry myself and my adrenaline was definitely flowing. Two things crossed my mind: 1) I am the only person of color (other than my wife and kids) anywhere around and 2) if the police show up, they will probably assume that I am somehow at fault here. Luckily, for me, by the time I got to the fight, they were falling and I braced their fall and then helped hold the aggressor down until he was calm. At this point, he got up, and with a little coaxing, walked away. I went back to my now filled car, got inside, started it up, and drove away. I was thankful that the police had not arrived and I had not had to explain myself. I was also curious as to whether the convenience store workers had called the police to report their now broken storefront glass.
For the next 30 or 40 miles, I heard from my wife, who had yelled my name as I was running toward the fight, that my decision there had probably not been one of my best. She laid out for me, in some detail, all of the potential pitfalls of my actions, including the fact that I might have been injured or worse, since I had no idea who any of these people were. In that instant, without really thinking it through, I said the following:
"When I saw that mother and sister standing there helplessly, I thought of you and the boys. Maybe you were in a convenience store one day and one of the boys stepped on some one's shoe or said something about them shoplifting (as kids will do) and this was you standing out there, with me no where around. Maybe, some stranger stepped in to help, because he felt some sense of obligation, and was overtaken by the younger, stronger, angrier man. I will never drive away from that. Yes, that means someday you may see me hurt or worse. But you will not see me standing by and watching when I am needed, even by strangers."
Great speech, right?
Yet, I have asked myself 50 times, what would I have done if I saw three strong men jumping an off duty cop, who was tasked with making them leave the bar? That specific situation occurred recently in Oklahoma City. What would I have done if the guy looked a little more menacing, maybe a tattoo sleeve or some sign that he was in a gang? Would I have offered help? What would I have done if there were 5 policeman subduing a large man on the pavement as he insisted that he could not breathe?
I am writing this story now for one reason and one reason only. Every day on Facebook and Twitter, I see new people posting stories of either police shooting people of color or young men of color killing other people. Often, those posting are people I like, know personally, and respect. These are generally speaking, intelligent people, so caught up in the moment that they have begun comparing apples, oranges, and bananas. The question posed most often in the subject of the post: "where is the outrage"? I encourage people on both sides of this debate, especially people of good conscience (some might use the word Christians), to think twice about what you post. Stop and think, "outrage" is not needed for crimes that are solved. When people are arrested, their cases adjudicated, and their innocence or guilt decided. Why would we be outraged at a justice system that has done what it was designed to do?
"Outrage" should rightfully be reserved for the lives: young, old, white, black, or any other color; which are taken AND the world moves on, as though nothing happened".
People of good conscience have plenty in this world to be outraged about, like the countless crimes that are never solved. Outrage should be reserved for crimes that are allowed to continue for years because no one cared enough to connect the dots. Outrage should be saved for the growing numbers of cowards who kill innocent people, and then themselves, in the name of some distorted ideology. What we do not need to be outraged about is criminals who are caught and punished. The reason we are not outraged about that is because "apples" are not "oranges", and if you think they are, you are "bananas".
In our world today, we could use fewer bananas: who still insist on diverting resources from the very real "war on terrorism" to our very fake "war on drugs", which targets specific communities and groups of people for heavy punishment, while ignoring statistics which show just how widespread drug use/abuse has become. Bananas: who complain about high taxes, but are perfectly content spending four or five times more to incarcerate a person than to educate that same person. Bananas: who think that laws like "stop and frisk" are great laws, mainly because they cannot fathom anyone in their family or friend circle actually being stopped and frisked. For once, I think we should all just pass on the fruit salad and get back to healthier things.
Roger Goodell and The Leadership Opportunity Missed...originally posted9/11/14.
The new NFL policy regarding domestic violence represents a muddled and confused message. Suddenly, we are looking to the National Football League to be the "standard bearers" and the "last beacon of hope" for a culture adept at both avoiding and scapegoating most issues. Rather than the priest, doctors, lawyers, judges, congressmen and women, fireman, policeman, teachers, CEO's, and insurance salespeople one might expect to lead the charge on an issue as important as domestic violence, the NFL has thrust itself into the breach. Yes, we have turned to the young men of the National Football League and asked of them, not what the law requires, but an even higher standard. From this day forward, when drafted into the NFL, a player will be subject to more strict rules than any other profession in our society. Let me see....yep, that sounds right. The ability to risk your body on the football field surely provides a foundation and training to become the most ethical and moral of all U.S. citizens.
I, personally, have no problem with tougher laws designed to protect women (or really anyone) from the growing violence in our society. If we, as a society, decide to make our laws more strict, I am all for it. But, if we start looking to create tougher rules for specific groups of people, I hate to be the one to break the news, but we (as a country) have a terrible track record in this area. What's more, with Wikipedia and the internet readily accessible from every Ipad and smart phone, it is not difficult to find the evidence of just how bad we (the United States) have been in this area. Please fire up the closest browser and search "domestic violence". After a few minutes of reading, the conclusions there are crystal clear: 1) women in our society are far too often the targets of violence at the hands of their partners, 2) this is not a recent trend, and 3) it is not isolated, by any means, to the National Football League. Domestic violence seems to be the by-product of a culture, hell bent on using violence to solve every problem.
While it can be debated whether there is a connection between the violence in football and a higher propensity toward violence in general, ONE (Roger Goodell) might need to examine the existing levels of violence in society, as a whole, prior to making that leap. Then, if ONE were so inclined, ONE might look into other sports (hockey, boxing, auto racing, baseball, etc.) to determine if ONE's hypothesis was rooted in reality, bigotry, or hypocrisy. While an exclusive club, and some would argue that is what the NFL has become, can certainly make rules to determine who can and who cannot belong. It would seem arbitrary, at best, to expel a member of the club for actions taken before a newly pondered, but clearly decisive ruling regarding domestic violence existed. There are a whole series of laws regarding "double jeopardy" written to prevent second and third bites at the same apple. Lest we conveniently forget, those laws protect us all, and often from our more influential neighbors.
No, I am not oblivious to the fact that we, as a society, sometimes have a mob mentality (some might even say "lynch mob"). However, we often find ourselves hiding behind some sense that we didn't realize the disparities in treatment between the differing groups which often result (see also: disparities in sentencing for drug offenses). However, since we now have the benefit of literally billions of pieces of information constantly at our fingertips, it is only through sheer laziness that we are able to blindly follow the mob. That means that neither Roger Goodell, nor any "would-be-leader" of an organization can simply flip a coin and decide that some minority group (yes, that is a double-entendre' for the fact that the NFL is a very small group and also heavily weighted in the brown pigmentation) should have a different set of rules from the rest of society. Said another way, it is always a good idea to pursue "justice" in the face of a mob. The larger and more vocal the group, the more important it becomes not to waiver on principle in the decision making process. As the NFL will surely learn, AGAIN, the problem with vigilante justice is that it eventually gets around to us all and we are never as passive when it is our turn in the hot seat. The one strike rule is only easily acceptable when you are not the person whose career is at risk.
Yes, I know that it is difficult to wait for our slow justice system to work through all the idiosyncrasies in these situations. I am certain that none of us (non-NFL members), would ever want it to be considered that we were law abiding citizens right up to the point that we went "ultra-stupid". No, we would never want the court to adjudicate our fate, taking into account the totality of our actions, our history, or any demonstrable "goodness" we might ever have possessed. After all, we are a nation of laws and we do better when we resist any temptation to suspend those laws because it seems more expedient in a given situation. That type of rationality and consideration of fairness is surely reserved for those of us who are fortunate enough to kill others (accidentally) at the dirt track. How ironic, the public sentiment seems to have been that missing two races was far too harsh a punishment for Tony Stewart, rather than the other way around.
All across the sports world today, no one is asking about "fairness" and no one is asking about "justice". Why? Because domestic violence is ugly stuff! Whether seen through a video, a photograph, or through the eyes of the countless children who grow up as witnesses to it. Domestic violence is so bad that it cannot be defended, regardless of the circumstances. Whether a single occurrence or a weekly routine, after a night out drinking with the boys, domestic violence is unacceptable. Meanwhile, all across this country the calls will continue to pour in, by the hundreds, to police departments from small town to big city. Week after week, month after month, and year after year; policeman return to the same homes, to see the same people, until someone is either dead or missing. AND....for anyone who cares, it happens in cities and towns without NFL franchises too.
"True Leaders" often find great opportunities to teach in the face of great upheaval. Those leaders use the high levels of emotion and tension to impart lessons that are remembered long after the leaders themselves are forgotten. Yes, it is much easier to discard the individual nuisance and get back to more important things, like building new stadiums with mammoth-sized, flat screens and over-priced, personal-pan pizzas. However, when a Google search for "domestic violence" in 2020 reveals the same results that it did in 2014, or worse results, what that will point out is not the stupidity of Ray Rice's decision in that elevator. Any 5 year old could see his actions were dumb! No, what the lack of any noticeable change, over that period will make crystal clear for us all is that billionaires and millionaires make dollars, but often have no idea how to make sense. That task, my friends, falls to us. We can decide to politicize this issue and make it all about the NFL players of our world, giving them especially harsh treatment because it makes us feel better or we can choose instead to muster all the resources focused on this issue and use them for the good of a country, in which domestic violence has been allowed to thrive. In the same way that Tony Stewart will find ways to make something positive out of his mess, given that chance. Good people, who do dumb things, often work very hard to redeem themselves and in the process, they often benefit us all.
I, as a man of forty-seven, have never hit a woman and I cannot imagine a scenario where I would. Yet, my teenage sons, who have never witnessed domestic violence at home, sat through a painful (for them) discussion of the domestic violence issue at our dinner table this week. Why? Because NFL players account for a very small fraction of the domestic violence cases in our country. It is our culture that produced those players, not the other way around. Lest we lose sight of the real problem here, our children are marinating in the very same culture that gives us domestic violence every 9 seconds. Let that soak in: EVERY NINE SECONDS. It does not begin, nor end, with the less than 2500 men playing football in the NFL. Yes, those men are easy targets and we can pick them off one by one, but we are a nation of 300 million people.
Dear Roger, there was an opportunity here to do something of substance, I am sure of it! Please look around at the countless examples of young men, who have made big mistakes early in their careers and gone on to become good (some would even say great) people: Ray Lewis, Chris Carter, Michael Irving, Randy Moss, and the list could be as long as this page. I wonder how many of them would have survived under your regime? Dear Congress, do not look at this low point for the NFL as your opportunity to deflect blame. Your organization, is one of a very few, with a record that can make the NFL players look like choir boys. Yours is also an organization much more responsible for the tone and texture of our culture than the NFL.
I, personally, have no problem with tougher laws designed to protect women (or really anyone) from the growing violence in our society. If we, as a society, decide to make our laws more strict, I am all for it. But, if we start looking to create tougher rules for specific groups of people, I hate to be the one to break the news, but we (as a country) have a terrible track record in this area. What's more, with Wikipedia and the internet readily accessible from every Ipad and smart phone, it is not difficult to find the evidence of just how bad we (the United States) have been in this area. Please fire up the closest browser and search "domestic violence". After a few minutes of reading, the conclusions there are crystal clear: 1) women in our society are far too often the targets of violence at the hands of their partners, 2) this is not a recent trend, and 3) it is not isolated, by any means, to the National Football League. Domestic violence seems to be the by-product of a culture, hell bent on using violence to solve every problem.
While it can be debated whether there is a connection between the violence in football and a higher propensity toward violence in general, ONE (Roger Goodell) might need to examine the existing levels of violence in society, as a whole, prior to making that leap. Then, if ONE were so inclined, ONE might look into other sports (hockey, boxing, auto racing, baseball, etc.) to determine if ONE's hypothesis was rooted in reality, bigotry, or hypocrisy. While an exclusive club, and some would argue that is what the NFL has become, can certainly make rules to determine who can and who cannot belong. It would seem arbitrary, at best, to expel a member of the club for actions taken before a newly pondered, but clearly decisive ruling regarding domestic violence existed. There are a whole series of laws regarding "double jeopardy" written to prevent second and third bites at the same apple. Lest we conveniently forget, those laws protect us all, and often from our more influential neighbors.
No, I am not oblivious to the fact that we, as a society, sometimes have a mob mentality (some might even say "lynch mob"). However, we often find ourselves hiding behind some sense that we didn't realize the disparities in treatment between the differing groups which often result (see also: disparities in sentencing for drug offenses). However, since we now have the benefit of literally billions of pieces of information constantly at our fingertips, it is only through sheer laziness that we are able to blindly follow the mob. That means that neither Roger Goodell, nor any "would-be-leader" of an organization can simply flip a coin and decide that some minority group (yes, that is a double-entendre' for the fact that the NFL is a very small group and also heavily weighted in the brown pigmentation) should have a different set of rules from the rest of society. Said another way, it is always a good idea to pursue "justice" in the face of a mob. The larger and more vocal the group, the more important it becomes not to waiver on principle in the decision making process. As the NFL will surely learn, AGAIN, the problem with vigilante justice is that it eventually gets around to us all and we are never as passive when it is our turn in the hot seat. The one strike rule is only easily acceptable when you are not the person whose career is at risk.
Yes, I know that it is difficult to wait for our slow justice system to work through all the idiosyncrasies in these situations. I am certain that none of us (non-NFL members), would ever want it to be considered that we were law abiding citizens right up to the point that we went "ultra-stupid". No, we would never want the court to adjudicate our fate, taking into account the totality of our actions, our history, or any demonstrable "goodness" we might ever have possessed. After all, we are a nation of laws and we do better when we resist any temptation to suspend those laws because it seems more expedient in a given situation. That type of rationality and consideration of fairness is surely reserved for those of us who are fortunate enough to kill others (accidentally) at the dirt track. How ironic, the public sentiment seems to have been that missing two races was far too harsh a punishment for Tony Stewart, rather than the other way around.
All across the sports world today, no one is asking about "fairness" and no one is asking about "justice". Why? Because domestic violence is ugly stuff! Whether seen through a video, a photograph, or through the eyes of the countless children who grow up as witnesses to it. Domestic violence is so bad that it cannot be defended, regardless of the circumstances. Whether a single occurrence or a weekly routine, after a night out drinking with the boys, domestic violence is unacceptable. Meanwhile, all across this country the calls will continue to pour in, by the hundreds, to police departments from small town to big city. Week after week, month after month, and year after year; policeman return to the same homes, to see the same people, until someone is either dead or missing. AND....for anyone who cares, it happens in cities and towns without NFL franchises too.
"True Leaders" often find great opportunities to teach in the face of great upheaval. Those leaders use the high levels of emotion and tension to impart lessons that are remembered long after the leaders themselves are forgotten. Yes, it is much easier to discard the individual nuisance and get back to more important things, like building new stadiums with mammoth-sized, flat screens and over-priced, personal-pan pizzas. However, when a Google search for "domestic violence" in 2020 reveals the same results that it did in 2014, or worse results, what that will point out is not the stupidity of Ray Rice's decision in that elevator. Any 5 year old could see his actions were dumb! No, what the lack of any noticeable change, over that period will make crystal clear for us all is that billionaires and millionaires make dollars, but often have no idea how to make sense. That task, my friends, falls to us. We can decide to politicize this issue and make it all about the NFL players of our world, giving them especially harsh treatment because it makes us feel better or we can choose instead to muster all the resources focused on this issue and use them for the good of a country, in which domestic violence has been allowed to thrive. In the same way that Tony Stewart will find ways to make something positive out of his mess, given that chance. Good people, who do dumb things, often work very hard to redeem themselves and in the process, they often benefit us all.
I, as a man of forty-seven, have never hit a woman and I cannot imagine a scenario where I would. Yet, my teenage sons, who have never witnessed domestic violence at home, sat through a painful (for them) discussion of the domestic violence issue at our dinner table this week. Why? Because NFL players account for a very small fraction of the domestic violence cases in our country. It is our culture that produced those players, not the other way around. Lest we lose sight of the real problem here, our children are marinating in the very same culture that gives us domestic violence every 9 seconds. Let that soak in: EVERY NINE SECONDS. It does not begin, nor end, with the less than 2500 men playing football in the NFL. Yes, those men are easy targets and we can pick them off one by one, but we are a nation of 300 million people.
Dear Roger, there was an opportunity here to do something of substance, I am sure of it! Please look around at the countless examples of young men, who have made big mistakes early in their careers and gone on to become good (some would even say great) people: Ray Lewis, Chris Carter, Michael Irving, Randy Moss, and the list could be as long as this page. I wonder how many of them would have survived under your regime? Dear Congress, do not look at this low point for the NFL as your opportunity to deflect blame. Your organization, is one of a very few, with a record that can make the NFL players look like choir boys. Yours is also an organization much more responsible for the tone and texture of our culture than the NFL.
When Our Culture Betrays Us (My Take on The Adrian Peterson Saga) ...originally posted 10/6/14.
For the first 20 years of my life, I was very accustomed to seeing some sort of grease can around most of the kitchens I entered. Those cans are where the flavoring I loved, as a child, originated. While Crisco was a great start for deep frying almost anything, all the best cooks kept the meat-flavored, leftover grease for later use. There was pork, beef, and chicken flavored grease available to spice up any recipe. Often, when I tasted cabbage, or greens, or some other incredibly flavorful dish, the flavoring was from pork or beef cooked weeks prior. Then, without warning, word came from on high : FRIED FOODS ARE UNHEALTHY. It seemed that suddenly we had all discovered that Crisco was not the godsend we had once thought it to be. In fact, it may have been building up inside our bodies and causing problems ranging from heart disease to high blood pressure to diabetes. Slowly, over the coming years, the grease cans would become less and less prevalent. "Soul Food", as it had come to be called, would become something to be had on rare occasions, rather than in the daily doses of my childhood. Crisco was replaced by vegetable oils, of varying types, and the healthiness of food became more of a concern than flavor. Before long, even the healthiness of cooking with butter was being questioned. What would be next, some crazy suggestion that second-hand cigarette smoke might be deadly or that too much exposure to the sun could cause cancer? Funny how times change.
In many of the same homes where I saw those grease cans, including my own, there was another practice that has just recently become a major concern: "corporal punishment". Over the last few weeks, I have heard countless discussions of Adrian Peterson, his method of disciplining his young children, and where that method fits along the spectrum from spanking to child abuse. Let me clearly state here, my commentary is not as much about Adrian Peterson himself, as the millions of Adrian Peterson's out there, who are not part of the National Football League (NFL). Despite the national outcry, in complete opposition to "corporal punishment", in some circles, it is a way of life. In fact, I did a little research on attitudes regarding "corporal punishment" and confirmed my own suspicions. There are some vast differences of opinion on "corporal punishment" within our country and social scientist have taken the time to study those differences. A few of the differences are: 1) Religious people support "corporal punishment" more than non-religious people. 2) Southerners support it more than Northerners. 3) Blacks (which is a time-honored name for people who are often brown and yellow) support it more than whites. For those of you with math minds, if you have already made note of the fact that a person who is religious, southern, and black has the highest propensity to support "corporal punishment"...BINGO!
Just like "Soul Food", the tradition of whipping (or whooping, as I often heard it called as a kid) has had tremendous staying power. Strangely, when I looked to my dictionary to find the derivation of the word "whooping", it did not provide the clarification for which I had hoped. "Whoop" can refer to shouting or calling vigorously. Whereas, "whipping" refers to the unmistakably cruel punishment that has survived from biblical times until today. As a child, I am certain that I experienced some "whippings" (of course, not by an actual whip) that caused me to do a little "whooping". While it is very easy to look at a single person, Adrian Peterson in this case, and assume that he is simply ignorant and irrational when it comes to discipline. The real explanation for his actions might lie somewhere in his history, which I might add, is probably not too far from my own. For many, like myself, we are only one generation removed from a thought process that reasoned physically punishing young children (out of love), might save them from being physically punished later by people much less concerned with their well-being. Irrational thoughts? Maybe. But those fears are fed daily in newcast across our country, which too often depict young men of color as the subjects of violence. Sometimes traditions, born out of desperation and fear, are stubbornly persistent.
The only thing I can say with certainty is that as a child, the word "whooping" was solidly worked into my vocabulary, and my life experience. I never questioned it's derivation, as a word, nor the logic of it's practice. It wouldn't have mattered if I did. I, like most of my relatives, found my way to various trees and picked many "switches" (though some would argue not nearly enough). I know, first hand, what it means to sit in a room, with my siblings, comparing the marks left behind by "switches". I know those "switches" often broke our skin. I have to admit that knowing my own history, I was a little surprised to see that in recent studies, "blacks" (read also as brown, if you are partial to the common sense applied by Crayola) show the highest approval of "corporal punishment", higher than any other ethnic group. That is the very definition of tradition: repeating the practices of our parents and/or grandparents, without questioning the logic or efficacy. Does anyone still eat fried chicken or even fry their Thanksgiving turkey? On a related note, does anyone call things "black", when they are clearly brown (or do we only do that with people). Tradition?
In the interest of full disclosure, I did attend the same university as Adrian Peterson. That being said, I have followed his career and take a little pride in having seen him do well in the National Football League. However, there is a much more important issue here that draws my attention and begs for my comment. For some in this discussion (like me), the stakes are far too high. Any day, I can turn on my television to see the story of a "young, brown man" who was beaten or killed. The level of violence that we, as a society condone, is incredibly high. Yet, somewhere there is a magical line between the innocent four year old child (that many would vocally defend) and the 14 - 20 year old young men, who no one defends, accept the very parent that we dare lecture about "proper whooping techniques".
As for me, I am on record as choosing Adrian Peterson (and his chosen method of discipline). I am also on the record as thanking my parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles for my upbringing. They did the best they could with what they had. Remember, we did not always have cell phones and video games to take away from our 1st graders. No, my parent's and grandparent's ideas about discipline were not perfect, but it was not for lack of love, and I would not trade it. It was not uncontrolled rage, demonstrated by a clinched fist or wanton violence. There was a family structure, complete with authority figures, rules, and punishments. Although there were times when things probably went further than any of my relatives intended, I cannot imagine a scenario where OUR society could have offered sound moral advice.
I hope that I have learned different ways by which to impart life lessons to my two sons. However, I will wait to see the finished product, before I render a final verdict. For the record, I make no bones about the fact that I will choose, even the most incompetent parent (and maybe that includes Adrian Peterson), attempting to discipline their own child, over multiple policeman with nightsticks, tasers, and guns, a decade later. My hypocrisy and sanctimonious ire cannot be raised over broken skin (even on a four year old), when broken bones and lives lost have become inconvenient background noise.
In many of the same homes where I saw those grease cans, including my own, there was another practice that has just recently become a major concern: "corporal punishment". Over the last few weeks, I have heard countless discussions of Adrian Peterson, his method of disciplining his young children, and where that method fits along the spectrum from spanking to child abuse. Let me clearly state here, my commentary is not as much about Adrian Peterson himself, as the millions of Adrian Peterson's out there, who are not part of the National Football League (NFL). Despite the national outcry, in complete opposition to "corporal punishment", in some circles, it is a way of life. In fact, I did a little research on attitudes regarding "corporal punishment" and confirmed my own suspicions. There are some vast differences of opinion on "corporal punishment" within our country and social scientist have taken the time to study those differences. A few of the differences are: 1) Religious people support "corporal punishment" more than non-religious people. 2) Southerners support it more than Northerners. 3) Blacks (which is a time-honored name for people who are often brown and yellow) support it more than whites. For those of you with math minds, if you have already made note of the fact that a person who is religious, southern, and black has the highest propensity to support "corporal punishment"...BINGO!
Just like "Soul Food", the tradition of whipping (or whooping, as I often heard it called as a kid) has had tremendous staying power. Strangely, when I looked to my dictionary to find the derivation of the word "whooping", it did not provide the clarification for which I had hoped. "Whoop" can refer to shouting or calling vigorously. Whereas, "whipping" refers to the unmistakably cruel punishment that has survived from biblical times until today. As a child, I am certain that I experienced some "whippings" (of course, not by an actual whip) that caused me to do a little "whooping". While it is very easy to look at a single person, Adrian Peterson in this case, and assume that he is simply ignorant and irrational when it comes to discipline. The real explanation for his actions might lie somewhere in his history, which I might add, is probably not too far from my own. For many, like myself, we are only one generation removed from a thought process that reasoned physically punishing young children (out of love), might save them from being physically punished later by people much less concerned with their well-being. Irrational thoughts? Maybe. But those fears are fed daily in newcast across our country, which too often depict young men of color as the subjects of violence. Sometimes traditions, born out of desperation and fear, are stubbornly persistent.
Rare is the time that we (humans) pause to look critically at ourselves, our history, and the legacy we have created. Whether we, as Americans, want to admit it or not, the lingering history of over-zealous punishment, even abuse, is one that has been passed down. Words like whipping and whooping refer to a specific type of punishment, a type that we now formally call "corporal". Since we are so quick to associate the south and slavery with "whipping", we add a dimension that makes the subject very difficult to honestly discuss. Our "whipping" tradition however, runs a little deeper. If one were to Google "flagellation", Wikipedia would explain in infinite detail how both our prisons and our military have used this form of punishment for centuries. While it is not as common in western civilization today, we are not as far removed as we might like to imagine. Literal "whipping" is still seen in some former British colonies and the far east to this day. I was particularly amazed by the names in Wikipedia: belting, birching, spanking, caning, and switching. I think the unpdated versions might include: house-shoeing, extension cording and hot-wheel tracking to name a few modern adaptations.
While it might seem that I am making light of the pain I am certain Adrian Peterson's four year old suffered, I am not. On the other hand, I cannot help but laugh at the thought of my parent's, grandparent's, aunts, and uncles as "child abusers". If my grandparents were here today, after I gave them the biggest hug I could muster, through tear-filled kisses, I would tell them how much I have missed them. Then, I would talk at length about how much the world has changed in the twenty something years they have been gone. Then, I would get right to work on this child abuse thing. I would let them know, in no uncertain terms, that regardless of their intentions, sending us out to pick "switches" from trees and then using those "switches" on us was child abuse. Furthermore, teaching our parents to do the same, and encouraging them to use varying methods for better results was organized crime and they were the leaders of that crime ring. After a good scolding, I would let them know again that I love them and miss them, then I would turn them over to the proper authorities. Although, I am not certain who those authorities might be. From my reading, parents across the country have a great deal of latitude in disciplining their own children, unless (of course) they happen to be in the NFL.
While it might seem that I am making light of the pain I am certain Adrian Peterson's four year old suffered, I am not. On the other hand, I cannot help but laugh at the thought of my parent's, grandparent's, aunts, and uncles as "child abusers". If my grandparents were here today, after I gave them the biggest hug I could muster, through tear-filled kisses, I would tell them how much I have missed them. Then, I would talk at length about how much the world has changed in the twenty something years they have been gone. Then, I would get right to work on this child abuse thing. I would let them know, in no uncertain terms, that regardless of their intentions, sending us out to pick "switches" from trees and then using those "switches" on us was child abuse. Furthermore, teaching our parents to do the same, and encouraging them to use varying methods for better results was organized crime and they were the leaders of that crime ring. After a good scolding, I would let them know again that I love them and miss them, then I would turn them over to the proper authorities. Although, I am not certain who those authorities might be. From my reading, parents across the country have a great deal of latitude in disciplining their own children, unless (of course) they happen to be in the NFL.
The only thing I can say with certainty is that as a child, the word "whooping" was solidly worked into my vocabulary, and my life experience. I never questioned it's derivation, as a word, nor the logic of it's practice. It wouldn't have mattered if I did. I, like most of my relatives, found my way to various trees and picked many "switches" (though some would argue not nearly enough). I know, first hand, what it means to sit in a room, with my siblings, comparing the marks left behind by "switches". I know those "switches" often broke our skin. I have to admit that knowing my own history, I was a little surprised to see that in recent studies, "blacks" (read also as brown, if you are partial to the common sense applied by Crayola) show the highest approval of "corporal punishment", higher than any other ethnic group. That is the very definition of tradition: repeating the practices of our parents and/or grandparents, without questioning the logic or efficacy. Does anyone still eat fried chicken or even fry their Thanksgiving turkey? On a related note, does anyone call things "black", when they are clearly brown (or do we only do that with people). Tradition?
In the interest of full disclosure, I did attend the same university as Adrian Peterson. That being said, I have followed his career and take a little pride in having seen him do well in the National Football League. However, there is a much more important issue here that draws my attention and begs for my comment. For some in this discussion (like me), the stakes are far too high. Any day, I can turn on my television to see the story of a "young, brown man" who was beaten or killed. The level of violence that we, as a society condone, is incredibly high. Yet, somewhere there is a magical line between the innocent four year old child (that many would vocally defend) and the 14 - 20 year old young men, who no one defends, accept the very parent that we dare lecture about "proper whooping techniques".
As for me, I am on record as choosing Adrian Peterson (and his chosen method of discipline). I am also on the record as thanking my parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles for my upbringing. They did the best they could with what they had. Remember, we did not always have cell phones and video games to take away from our 1st graders. No, my parent's and grandparent's ideas about discipline were not perfect, but it was not for lack of love, and I would not trade it. It was not uncontrolled rage, demonstrated by a clinched fist or wanton violence. There was a family structure, complete with authority figures, rules, and punishments. Although there were times when things probably went further than any of my relatives intended, I cannot imagine a scenario where OUR society could have offered sound moral advice.
I hope that I have learned different ways by which to impart life lessons to my two sons. However, I will wait to see the finished product, before I render a final verdict. For the record, I make no bones about the fact that I will choose, even the most incompetent parent (and maybe that includes Adrian Peterson), attempting to discipline their own child, over multiple policeman with nightsticks, tasers, and guns, a decade later. My hypocrisy and sanctimonious ire cannot be raised over broken skin (even on a four year old), when broken bones and lives lost have become inconvenient background noise.
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
Defending The Dichotomy (and impeding our own progress).
A little over a month ago, those of us who tuned in to the BET awards, hoping to see a performance by some new and obscure performer, were instead either TREATED or OFFENDED by an acceptance speech of someone many of us did not know prior to the start of the night.
Mr. Jesse Williams acceptance speech for the Humanitarian Award walked a fine line that left many people wondering how to respond. In fact, even as the audience applauded, the television viewer could see looks of approval, tinged with some bewilderment and discomfort, even in a crowd of celebrities. I think many in the audience were surprised. Here was this man, who embodies the blended ethnicity of America, lambasting the America that makes his story possible. But why would anyone so close to the line, choose to defend one half of himself at the expense of the other half? Why not choose instead, the path so artfully and tactfully followed by our current President?
Shortly after his speech, many viewers took to Twitter to voice their approval or disapproval, of all or part, of the speech. Predictably, the familiar American dichotomy of thought began to come into focus. We (Americans) do an impeccable job of taking our world, filled with color, and filtering it down to "black and white". Justin Timberlake, who would normally be an accepted and/or appreciated part of the BET audience, found himself being taken to task because he dared to say that he agreed with the speech. The quick-tempered and ill-conceived backlash identified Timberlake himself, as the essence of those who are "extracting our culture, our dollars, our entertainment like oil, black gold..." As is often the case, when anyone wades into the deepest waters that we (as Americans) know, many people are drowned by the glut of thoughts, feelings, and history contained therein. Some JT defenders pointed out that he is from Memphis, TN. Others listed the various entertainers he has worked with and offered as a defense that he has helped to grow the R & B/Rap genre. While those are accurate and admirable cases for sure, I believe they missed the point. Justin Timberlake's defense was written years ago, decades ago; long before Timberlake himself arrived on the scene. The names Goodman, Chaney, and Schwerner are his defense. The existence of arguably the most well known Civil Rights speech EVER is his defense. When Martin Luther King Jr. implored us to judge each other, not by the color of our skin, but by "the content of our character", he was speaking of a two way street. Whenever we run to our corners, divide and sub-divide ourselves along racial lines, or any lines for that matter, we abandon our best selves for the comfort of the only history we know.
The speech given by Jesse Williams was heady stuff. Over the course of the uniquely American history of race relations, this topic has been tackled by many well known and thoughtful men: Alexis de Tocqueville, W.E.B. Dubois, Booker T. Washington, Albert Einstein, Marcus Garvey, Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, and more recently President Barrack Obama. In fact, one could fill a library with all the writings that look at American race relations from various perspectives: philosophical, historical, political, and even theological. Unfortunately, this is the kind of information that is much easier to study alone than to share in large groups. As Jesse Williams no doubt realized, he was indeed speaking a foreign language. Everyone in the audience knew a few key words and phrases, but few have the time or make the time to better understand the complexities and intricacies of the subject matter.
Examples abound, but here are a few that struck me:
Mr. Jesse Williams acceptance speech for the Humanitarian Award walked a fine line that left many people wondering how to respond. In fact, even as the audience applauded, the television viewer could see looks of approval, tinged with some bewilderment and discomfort, even in a crowd of celebrities. I think many in the audience were surprised. Here was this man, who embodies the blended ethnicity of America, lambasting the America that makes his story possible. But why would anyone so close to the line, choose to defend one half of himself at the expense of the other half? Why not choose instead, the path so artfully and tactfully followed by our current President?
Shortly after his speech, many viewers took to Twitter to voice their approval or disapproval, of all or part, of the speech. Predictably, the familiar American dichotomy of thought began to come into focus. We (Americans) do an impeccable job of taking our world, filled with color, and filtering it down to "black and white". Justin Timberlake, who would normally be an accepted and/or appreciated part of the BET audience, found himself being taken to task because he dared to say that he agreed with the speech. The quick-tempered and ill-conceived backlash identified Timberlake himself, as the essence of those who are "extracting our culture, our dollars, our entertainment like oil, black gold..." As is often the case, when anyone wades into the deepest waters that we (as Americans) know, many people are drowned by the glut of thoughts, feelings, and history contained therein. Some JT defenders pointed out that he is from Memphis, TN. Others listed the various entertainers he has worked with and offered as a defense that he has helped to grow the R & B/Rap genre. While those are accurate and admirable cases for sure, I believe they missed the point. Justin Timberlake's defense was written years ago, decades ago; long before Timberlake himself arrived on the scene. The names Goodman, Chaney, and Schwerner are his defense. The existence of arguably the most well known Civil Rights speech EVER is his defense. When Martin Luther King Jr. implored us to judge each other, not by the color of our skin, but by "the content of our character", he was speaking of a two way street. Whenever we run to our corners, divide and sub-divide ourselves along racial lines, or any lines for that matter, we abandon our best selves for the comfort of the only history we know.
The speech given by Jesse Williams was heady stuff. Over the course of the uniquely American history of race relations, this topic has been tackled by many well known and thoughtful men: Alexis de Tocqueville, W.E.B. Dubois, Booker T. Washington, Albert Einstein, Marcus Garvey, Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, and more recently President Barrack Obama. In fact, one could fill a library with all the writings that look at American race relations from various perspectives: philosophical, historical, political, and even theological. Unfortunately, this is the kind of information that is much easier to study alone than to share in large groups. As Jesse Williams no doubt realized, he was indeed speaking a foreign language. Everyone in the audience knew a few key words and phrases, but few have the time or make the time to better understand the complexities and intricacies of the subject matter.
Examples abound, but here are a few that struck me:
1) The reference to strange fruit was from the a 1939 Billie Holiday song which has a long, turbulent history all it's own. From the original writer's life story to the 1978 Grammy Hall of Fame induction, the song's journey is only surpassed in grandeur by it's lyrics and blunt truth. The strange fruit metaphorically hanging from poplar trees in the 1930's was "men of color".
2) The Tamir Rice reference, so close to Tamir's birth date, and the way that it was characterized by Williams, is a debate in and of itself. Categorizing what happened to Tamir as a "driveby shooting" portends a subtle historical reference to the gangland America that most Americans know of only through movies and music. The idea that a 12 year old child could have such an interaction with uniformed police is so disturbing that it forces much of America, but not all, to look away. There are still those who choose to go about the task of excusing even this killing: "he looked older", "we couldn't distinguish between a real gun and a toy", or "the police have a tough job". Shootings of minority men have become so common today, that more people are upset when a basketball player leaves town (see Lebron James or Kevin Durant) than when a man of color, unarmed or otherwise, is shot and killed. Silence is the most common and acceptable response. We can only cry silently, on the inside, so as not to alarm our children or our peers with the intense screams that are echoing through our hearts and minds.
3) "It is not the job of the brutalized to comfort the bystander. That is not our job". The clairvoyance in this passage was and is genius. Why is it that truth must withstand examination from hearsay, conjecture, and often even fantasy? Why is it that reality has to yield the right of way and wait for understanding from those who refuse to understand? Murder cannot be justified by a uniform or a badge. Law enforcement is a job best done at the bequest of the citizenry and those citizens should be made to feel safer by the presence of the law. The irony of those arming themselves against the potential tyranny of their own federal government, while explaining to fellow citizens that a 12 year old being mistakenly shot for holding a toy gun is a fair price for freedom, cannot be easily topped.
4) The back and forth about "brands on our bodies" is nothing short of genius as well. The consumerism that is so much of how Hollywood manifest itself in our daily lives is only outdone by the consumerism that is so much of who "black" America has become. When your past is so ugly that you dare not look at it, dare not speak of it, even while it nips at your heels on a daily basis; life can easily become an attempt to escape into a reality beyond the one that drowns us all. The thoughtful articulation of the "brands on our bodies", which is always the story of the Red Carpet at awards shows, played against the historical reference to "branding on our bodies", which was a literal marking of ownership normally reserved for cattle, but which labeled some humans as chattel, was poignant. That is a story that has been the subject of no shortage of dissertations and books. Any of these three topics could have been a speech all it's own, with countless references to points in history and counterpoints showing the repeating loop that ties 1616 to 1816 and 2016.
The main point of Jesse Williams speech, from my own perspective, and one that I think was lost on much of the audience, was when he spoke of "this invention called whiteness". If there were one thing in his speech that deserved and cried out for further examination, this was it. While the Twittersphere and Social Media were aglow with high levels of debate, argument, and race shaming on both sides; the debate was woefully short on any mention of this concept of "whiteness" as an invention. Which it is, along with it's counterpart, "blackness". Both are social constructs which make no sense and have no meaning beyond race, and more often than not, racism. During America's darkest days, no pun intended, we allowed ourselves to be divided. From the same caldron that gave us the Klan, came a decree that if someone had a single drop of "black" blood in them, they were forever to be considered black. From this idiocy, we attempted to construct separate society's for "white" and "black". We made rules about who should live where, who should eat where, who should drink where, and who should do all things commensurate with living freely where. Even though we (Americans) have fought wars together, sent men to the moon together, and accomplished all manner of great things together, we cannot seem to think beyond this false construct of "black and white", which was detailed to the nth degree after the Southern Reconstruction in a period commonly referred to today as "Jim Crow". Time and again, the idea of "black and white" has shown itself to be nothing short of lunacy. Yet, when someone dares to stand up and point this out, it literally falls on deaf ears. As both sides took sides, they both failed to see that the days of debate over "black and white" harken back to a time period we have spent the better part of a century trying to escape.
At some point, this all ceases to make sense, like when the past president of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) had his genealogy profiled and was found to have 18% African genes and more than 80% genes from other places (mostly European). My math tells me that Ben Jealous is so many other things before he is "black". Most importantly of all, he is American. It is only through our mental gymnastics and unnecessary daily work to remain separate that we make sense of the nonsense. However, in America all those other things cease to matter. They are all drowned out by a matrix designed to separate us based on some silly paradigm of "black and white".
2) The Tamir Rice reference, so close to Tamir's birth date, and the way that it was characterized by Williams, is a debate in and of itself. Categorizing what happened to Tamir as a "driveby shooting" portends a subtle historical reference to the gangland America that most Americans know of only through movies and music. The idea that a 12 year old child could have such an interaction with uniformed police is so disturbing that it forces much of America, but not all, to look away. There are still those who choose to go about the task of excusing even this killing: "he looked older", "we couldn't distinguish between a real gun and a toy", or "the police have a tough job". Shootings of minority men have become so common today, that more people are upset when a basketball player leaves town (see Lebron James or Kevin Durant) than when a man of color, unarmed or otherwise, is shot and killed. Silence is the most common and acceptable response. We can only cry silently, on the inside, so as not to alarm our children or our peers with the intense screams that are echoing through our hearts and minds.
3) "It is not the job of the brutalized to comfort the bystander. That is not our job". The clairvoyance in this passage was and is genius. Why is it that truth must withstand examination from hearsay, conjecture, and often even fantasy? Why is it that reality has to yield the right of way and wait for understanding from those who refuse to understand? Murder cannot be justified by a uniform or a badge. Law enforcement is a job best done at the bequest of the citizenry and those citizens should be made to feel safer by the presence of the law. The irony of those arming themselves against the potential tyranny of their own federal government, while explaining to fellow citizens that a 12 year old being mistakenly shot for holding a toy gun is a fair price for freedom, cannot be easily topped.
4) The back and forth about "brands on our bodies" is nothing short of genius as well. The consumerism that is so much of how Hollywood manifest itself in our daily lives is only outdone by the consumerism that is so much of who "black" America has become. When your past is so ugly that you dare not look at it, dare not speak of it, even while it nips at your heels on a daily basis; life can easily become an attempt to escape into a reality beyond the one that drowns us all. The thoughtful articulation of the "brands on our bodies", which is always the story of the Red Carpet at awards shows, played against the historical reference to "branding on our bodies", which was a literal marking of ownership normally reserved for cattle, but which labeled some humans as chattel, was poignant. That is a story that has been the subject of no shortage of dissertations and books. Any of these three topics could have been a speech all it's own, with countless references to points in history and counterpoints showing the repeating loop that ties 1616 to 1816 and 2016.
The main point of Jesse Williams speech, from my own perspective, and one that I think was lost on much of the audience, was when he spoke of "this invention called whiteness". If there were one thing in his speech that deserved and cried out for further examination, this was it. While the Twittersphere and Social Media were aglow with high levels of debate, argument, and race shaming on both sides; the debate was woefully short on any mention of this concept of "whiteness" as an invention. Which it is, along with it's counterpart, "blackness". Both are social constructs which make no sense and have no meaning beyond race, and more often than not, racism. During America's darkest days, no pun intended, we allowed ourselves to be divided. From the same caldron that gave us the Klan, came a decree that if someone had a single drop of "black" blood in them, they were forever to be considered black. From this idiocy, we attempted to construct separate society's for "white" and "black". We made rules about who should live where, who should eat where, who should drink where, and who should do all things commensurate with living freely where. Even though we (Americans) have fought wars together, sent men to the moon together, and accomplished all manner of great things together, we cannot seem to think beyond this false construct of "black and white", which was detailed to the nth degree after the Southern Reconstruction in a period commonly referred to today as "Jim Crow". Time and again, the idea of "black and white" has shown itself to be nothing short of lunacy. Yet, when someone dares to stand up and point this out, it literally falls on deaf ears. As both sides took sides, they both failed to see that the days of debate over "black and white" harken back to a time period we have spent the better part of a century trying to escape.
At some point, this all ceases to make sense, like when the past president of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) had his genealogy profiled and was found to have 18% African genes and more than 80% genes from other places (mostly European). My math tells me that Ben Jealous is so many other things before he is "black". Most importantly of all, he is American. It is only through our mental gymnastics and unnecessary daily work to remain separate that we make sense of the nonsense. However, in America all those other things cease to matter. They are all drowned out by a matrix designed to separate us based on some silly paradigm of "black and white".
How I love the sweet irony of my own family reunions. On my mother's side we have people of all hues represented. We find variations from light to dark, as well as differing eyes and hair. In a world of normalcy and logic, we would seek to know and understand how that came to be, but in America we are all relegated to our "blackness". Any discussion of our ancestry, which does not begin and end in Africa, is wasted, because "Jim Crow" told us 100 years ago, that part of our history was not "real" and cannot be recognized. We were instead given to being "black", and later "African-American". Titles that separate us "to infinity and beyond" in the minds of those who refuse to see that "we" are more like "them" than "black and white" might indicate. The logic of placing African before American and allowing it to stand for generations, for those who have fought to defend America, but never even visited Africa, is lost on me. Maybe next we will be the Non-American, Americans. Makes perfect sense, Right?
Even as a child, when I and my siblings, marveled at the brightly colored eyes and hair of relatives both close and distant, while attending family reunions on my father's side; the work had begun. While my childhood friends were excitedly becoming Italian and Irish and Argentinian and Columbian, we were reluctantly becoming "black". A description not derived from a region of origin, or shared characteristics, or even genealogy. In fact, a description absent the basic curiosity that most elementary children express. Ours was a description absent any true meaning, like that of an erased blackboard, which once contained both problems AND answers.
It was very early when I refused to be that , and four decades later, I am still refusing. Refusing to lump together histories as diverse as Kenya, Ghana, Ethiopia, Sudan, Puerto Rico, Brazil, Cuba, Haiti, and the Dominican Republic into a single word: black. Refusing to lump together experiences from Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, Washington D.C., Kentucky, New York, California, and literally all of the 50 states into a single word: black. Refusing to replace the diverse backgrounds of Michael Jordan, Sammy Davis Jr., Serena Williams, Jimi Hendrix, Muhammad Ali, James Baldwin, Kareem Abdul Jabbar, Langston Hughes, Jackie Robinson, Al Green, Barrack Obama, Sam Cooke, Tiger Woods, Otis Redding, Lebron James, and millions more into a single word: black.
We cannot go back in time and change our language to recognize the history and diversity lumped together by hatred and/or laziness. However, that does not mean that we will not have to reconcile our "made up" reality, which we sometimes fight so hard to defend, with the coming realities of genealogy and science. One day very soon, we will be forced to acknowledge that 49.9 and 50.1 were never so far apart as to have required the labels "black" and "white". At that time, someone will stand up to say "one drop", out of literally thousands of drops, is an insignificant and meaningless fraction. Until then, Jesse Williams speeches will have to suffice.
It was very early when I refused to be that , and four decades later, I am still refusing. Refusing to lump together histories as diverse as Kenya, Ghana, Ethiopia, Sudan, Puerto Rico, Brazil, Cuba, Haiti, and the Dominican Republic into a single word: black. Refusing to lump together experiences from Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, Washington D.C., Kentucky, New York, California, and literally all of the 50 states into a single word: black. Refusing to replace the diverse backgrounds of Michael Jordan, Sammy Davis Jr., Serena Williams, Jimi Hendrix, Muhammad Ali, James Baldwin, Kareem Abdul Jabbar, Langston Hughes, Jackie Robinson, Al Green, Barrack Obama, Sam Cooke, Tiger Woods, Otis Redding, Lebron James, and millions more into a single word: black.
We cannot go back in time and change our language to recognize the history and diversity lumped together by hatred and/or laziness. However, that does not mean that we will not have to reconcile our "made up" reality, which we sometimes fight so hard to defend, with the coming realities of genealogy and science. One day very soon, we will be forced to acknowledge that 49.9 and 50.1 were never so far apart as to have required the labels "black" and "white". At that time, someone will stand up to say "one drop", out of literally thousands of drops, is an insignificant and meaningless fraction. Until then, Jesse Williams speeches will have to suffice.
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