I’m a White middle class sixty eight year old man with more than a few dollars in the bank. I can see the police and wave at them and drive safely on by. Thought I do not identify as White, in my soul and world view, I am the rainbow of experiences I’ve lived. I’ve lived in Yemen, Morocco, and traveled around the world. I can converse in five languages. I do not identify with my heritage of Irish and Jewish. I do not limit or define myself by this narrow band of racial identity. Nevertheless, I am viewed as White, and thus I will continue this line of thinking. I rarely have the fear the police will stop me with guns drawn, because I am viewed as White. I have my gossamer White protective shield. If I reach into my coat pocket for my ID I will not get shot with forty bullets like Amidou Diallo or the dozens of Black men and woman who get shot every year, like Breeona Taylor. Their only “crime” is living while Black. Being a White guy of European and Jewish descent I don’t have to worry that I will be mistaken for an American citizen named Mohammed, strip searched and given a rectal search at the airport looking for Weapons of Mass Destruction. However, given Timothy McVeigh’s role in blowing up the Federal buildings in Oklahoma it would seem reasonable that White guys should equally be suspect and the US. We should have launched an invasion of Scotland and given Mel Gibson a real war to fight. However, the United States generally doesn’t declare war on a White nations, we invade South American, Asian or Arabic countries. We seemed to have no moral compunction of dropping A bombs on civilians in Hiroshima or Nagasaki. When I apply for work my employers will generally not wonder if I was successful because of Affirmative action: The employer assumes I did it on my own merit or at the least perhaps if I did get into an Ivy League school, it was because I was smart or in the case of GW from a wealthy and well connected family. When I go into a grocery store and decide not to use a shopping cart and stuff a few things in my pockets; generally, it is assumed that I was in a rush and the management doesn’t call the police because there is a suspected shoplifter. Because I am a White elderly man who is not walking around in raggedy clothes mumbling to myself, it is assumed that I’m harmless, a little careless in not using a cart, but not a significant problem. I can walk around in clothes that are a bit raggedy and people will usually assume I’m not a homeless bum. I can usually walk into a bank and cash a check without ID. They will not ask me for four pieces of ID. I will not have the bank guard calling for back up because I get in an argument with a teller over an error in my bank account. As a White man, I know she will defer to her manager, and we will resolve this. Or on the check out line at the supermarket the person in front is asked to swipe her credit card, but when my friend who is a well-dressed Black man comes to the counter, the young lady asks him, “Do you also have an ID?” “Miss, the lady before me, didn’t have to have an ID.” “Just a formality for out of towners.” “How do you know I’m not from town?” You get the drift of the conversation? Does being Black or Hispanic mean, “Special ID required.” If I move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing housing in an area I want I don’t need to ask my friend to find an apartment. Some years back friends of mine, he was Black and she White, were looking for an apartment. Rejected several times as a couple, I went back to the same apartments with my friend’s wife and we rented the apartment immediately. The lease was in her name. The landlord was a bit surprised when they moved in. I can let the grass grow on my front lawn, have the hedges a bit shabby and the neighbors will think “He’s still a bit of a hippy.” But if my name was Gonzales would the neighbors think, “Those damn Hispanics – one moves into the neighborhood and look what happens!” When friends of mine who come to town, who are Black or Hispanic, do I need to tell them about our local police department’s history of racial profiling or bias? Like one Black friend of mine recounted his story with the local police. “Yes, sir officer. I know it looks suspicious me being a six foot tall Black man wearing a Brooks Brothers suit and tie waiting on the street corner for my wife. No, I wasn’t casing the store for a robber. Yes, officer I have identification. Yes, officer. Observe my hands going into my pocket and no I don’t have a gun or a knife.” It is the hundreds of small clues during the course of day that says, “You’re different. You’re not quite like us.” If it is a fistfight at the school do they assume the Black or Hispanic youngster is the aggressor? Is the same justice meted out to the Black and White kid? If there is drug activity in school are the minority kids the ones most suspected? Is justice really color blind? As a White guy, how does racism affect my life? Sadly, I can be oblivious to the impact of racism in my life. I can live in a White neighborhood, in a mostly White town, and pretend that racism doesn’t exist. But, I can’t accept a society, American society, where bigotry and racism exists. As the singer Solomon Burke said, “None of
Resist with Love
The Hill We Climb in Utialandia
Utilialandia, or short for Utia, is one of the most progressive countries on the planet. I was grateful to be here during a recent kerfuffle due to the translation of the poem “The Hill We Climb” by Amanda Gorman into Utian. Though there are only 2,401 native Utian speakers, they are the most literate people. Everyone can read and write in at least four other languages. However, they were in a near state of bewilderment with the young new American poet. In Utia, they don’t distinguish between African American, Asian American, LGBTQ American, Irish American, etc. It was all confusing to them. My host asked me, “Aren’t you all Americans since you live in the USA?” Gorman, the young American poet (African American), wrote a lovely poem about hope and freedom. As far as Utians can figure, these are universal values and understandable by all. They selected their finest translator for this critical job. In Utia, the Ministry of Arts and Poetry is one of the most important departments, next to the Ministry of Happiness. They chose Uhuru Marieke, known for translating some of the most abstract and obtuse poetry. They had even translated my somewhat difficult Jazz Ku verses flawlessly. The Ministry of Poetry was pumped! A special paper was ordered. Fresh ink was ground up! And the finest calligraphers were on call. The verse would be translated, then printed, and large six-foot panels of the poem would be displayed downtown. Then the Ministry of Poetry was notified that Poetry Central in the USA forbade this. “The translator Uhuru is not African American, nor a person of color, and therefore forbidden to translate this poem into Utian.” The Minister of Poetry was mystified. “What does the color of your skin, the color of your eyes, or your predilection for ice cream have to do with your ability to translate poetry?” Poetry Central in the USA replied, “We’ve sent three pages of politically correct translation guidelines. We understand that there are no African Americans in UTia, but it must be translated by someone with an iota of African heritage for the poem to be genuinely translated or understood.” The Utians were puzzled and asked me, “Does that also mean that only Polish people can play Chopin or only Black musicians from Mississippi can play the Blues?” I was as mystified as my hosts of this literary, racial profiling. The Ministry of Technology ran the genetic algorithm on all Utians, borrowing computer times from MIT and Cal Tech, and discovered that Utians could indeed translate the poem. It turned out that all Utians had.0004 percent of African heritage. Utians were African and a rainbow of all nationalities, and with the new translation into Utian, we understood the poem, “The Hill We Climb.” We are not divided by race or ethnicity, gender, but we are defined by our collective journey to justice and equality for all. We are all inspired by the exquisite translation into Utian. I am grateful that my Utian hosts did not kowtow to provincial political correctness and allowed this poem to be read by all. Just imagine the magnificent land of Utia. Namaya has recently returned from Utia to the People’s Republic of Vermont.
Dear Joe and Kamala,
Re: Some modest wishes and best of luck Excuse me for being so informal and addressing you by your first names. Congratulations, a word that should have come from Donny the Id months ago. Nevertheless, the old goat will not easily give up the house he soiled, but like the Aegean stable, the mighty river of Democracy may be able to take some of this horrific stench away. The good news is that the nation did not completely disintegrate.Nevertheless, our Democracy took a terrible bruising. Enough of the old goat; he will be tied up in his web of lies and litigation until he dies. It is time to look to the future fearlessly. Welcome to the grand old house. You’ve been there before. Joe, I know, you wondered what it would be like to be the President, and now is the time. It is the time for enormous courage and conviction. Since I have your kind attention, my shortlist is simple: Immediately reverse the idiotic grandiose executive orders over the past four years. Universal health care for all Americans—one universal plan. No co-pay and no deductibles. If you want private insurance, pay for it. Pharmacy pricing is regulated like in Canada and Europe. Universal Education/ Vocational/ Job training program for all Americans and residents in the USA. In turn, universal service of your choice – Peace Corps, AmeriCorps, Volunteer service, or military for every year of college or school, a year of service. No deferments for bone spurs. Housing for all Americans. Clean water for all Americans All Mentally ill people will be treated and housed. Create a Department of Peace for peace building, conflict resolution. Pentagon/ military budget is set at a fixed rate of 10 % or less of the national budget. Most other countries are at 2-4% Sustainable green energy network by 2040. End of all pesticides for farm production and golf courses by 2030. All immigrants protected. Undocumented immigrants are fast-tracked for citizenship All lobbyists and groups like AIPAC are banned. No private money or donations for politicians or political campaigns. Presidential elections are limited to 3 months and funded by the public. End private prisons. End mass incarcerations of minorities. Americans prisons recreated on the Norwegian model Guns – Universal federal registry for firearms. That is my shortlist of wishes for your first 100 days, or is it for the first 100 months? Is it possible for your administration to embody our dreams and hopes for prosperity and real economic and social justice? My hopes are modest for the incoming regime. Sanity, reason, and honesty. The White House and the White House press room no longer a torrent of lies, racism, bigotry, and hate. As a nation, we are breathless of covid and bigotry So Joe and Kamala, our very best wishes to you and the next four years. We breathlessly await your vision, courage, and action.
As a White Guy How does Racism F– – With My Life?
I’m a White middle class middle-aged man with more than a few dollars in the bank. I see the police and can wave at them and drive safely on by. If I reach into my coat pocket for my wallet and identification I will probably not get shot with forty bullets. I can shout out my magic protective words, “Don’t shoot me, I’m White. Put on some James Brown, see I can’t dance!” Oops, did I just fall into a stereotype? So, as a White guy does racism affect my life? Being White and of European descent I don’t worry that I’ll be mistaken for a brown Muslim named Mohammed, strip searched, and undergo a rectal probe at the airport. However, given Timothy McVeigh’s role in blowing up the Federal buildings in Oklahoma it would seem reasonable that White guys should equally be suspect and the US should have launched an invasion on Scotland. (Though it is still puzzling to me why fifteen Saudis attacked the World Trade Center Towers and the US invaded Iraq and not Saudi Arabia: A case of the US being geographically challenged?) When I apply for work and they look at my credentials or college education employers will not wonder if I was successful because of affirmative action. The employer may assume I did it on my own merit or at the least perhaps if I did attend an Ivy League school, it was because I was smart or in the case of GW from a wealthy and well connected family. If I was from that well connected family a gentleman’s C grades will do. When I go into a grocery store and decide not to use a shopping cart and stuff a few things in my pockets; generally, it is assumed that I was in a rush and the management doesn’t call the police. Because I am a White middle aged man who is not walking around in raggedy clothes mumbling to myself (most times) it’s assumed that I’m harmless, a little careless in not using a cart, but not a significant problem. If I was Black or Hispanic, how long would it take before the police are called? I can walk into a local bank and cash a check without an ID. They will not ask me for four pieces of ID, even though I might have had a bank account there for years. I will not have the bank guard calling for back up because I get in an argument with a teller over an error in my bank account. As a White middle aged middle class professional, I know she will defer to her manager, and we will resolve this. If I move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing housing in an area which I can afford and in which I would want to live. I don’t need to ask my friend to find an apartment. I can let the grass grow on my front lawn, have the hedges a bit shabby and the neighbors will think “He’s still a bit of a hippy.” But if my name was Gonzales would the neighbors think, “Those damn Hispanics – one moves into the neighborhood and look what happens.” It is the hundreds of small clues during the course of day that says, “You’re different. You’re not quite like us.” If there is a fistfight at the school do they assume the Black or Hispanic youngster is the aggressor? When an African American friend of mine comes to town, do I need to give them a heads up about our local police department’s history of racial profiling or bias. If he is stopped does he need to do his Black thing? “Yes, sir officer. I know it looks suspicious being a six foot tall black man wearing a suit and tie waiting on the street corner for my wife. No, I wasn’t casing the store for a robber. Yes, officer I have identification. Yes officer, observe my hands as they are going into my pocket. No, I don’t have a gun or a shiv.” Do people of color and various ethnicities feel safe and welcome coming into town? Will they spend their money for shopping? Will they buy second homes here? Will they invest their talents as lawyer, carpenter, artist or poet? Will the richness of many diverse cultures that have strengthened our collective national cultures be welcomed and become an asset to our community? Does racism affect me in my life? On the surface it doesn’t. As a White middle-aged man, living in a predominantly White community, racism can be a ghosted shadow drifting invisibly by. However, racism/ bias/ discrimination, is the sure and slow corrosive acid that that eats away at the fabric of a community. It says there is an “us and them.” It is another wall in the community that divides neighbors, differenced solely based on ethnicity or color.
