If I could, I would select my dinner companions based on the topic, regardless of the interpersonal dynamics of the persons.  For example, it might be difficult for Moses and Hitler to become good friends.  That wouldn’t be the point; the exercise would be purely to indulge my own selfish self-interest:  for my guests to provide perspective on a given topic and, in doing so, revealing the essence of who they are (or were).  With that in mind, I’ve chosen five distinguished individuals from U.S. history, whose lives spanned the 20th century, and are no longer living, and convened them for a theoretical dinner party hosted by yours truly.  I selected deceased persons with whom I TRULY would love to spend time in a dialogue, as I’m going to be wildly speculating on how I THINK they might respond on the topic of racism. 

(NOTE:  I guess part of me hopes that, someday, I might actually have a chance to engage some of my living icons in a dialogue, and I wouldn’t want a record of my “pretend” discussion clouding my expectations!)

 My dinner party guests are as follows:

W.E.B. DuBois (1868-1963) 

Paul Robeson (1898-1976)

Rosa Parks (1913-2005)

Gene Roddenberry (1921-1991)

Tupac Shakur (1971-1996)

************************************** 

Clockwise from top left: Roddenberry, DuBois, Foster, Shakur, Robeson, Parks

Me:  Welcome, friends.

Gene Roddenberry:  Thanks for the invite, young man.

Paul Robeson:  Indeed, a pleasure to be here.

Rosa Parks:  Thank you so much, Brian.  I don’t think I deserve the honor to be among these very accomplished folk. 

W.E.B. DuBois:  Of course, you do.  I, for one, am extremely honored to be among this company — particularly one as lovely as you, Mrs. Parks.

Parks:  Again, thank you all.  I’m a little tired; may I sit down?

Tupac Shakur:  I’m feelin’ you on that, sistah.  So, what’cha serving, man?  You know I don’t touch the swine…

Me:  Same here, Mr. Shakur.  Can I call you Tupac?

Shakur:  Yeah, that…or Makaveli…

Me:  Well, my fraternity brothers call me Macaroni…we could be related!  Coincidentally, macaroni and cheese is on the menu tonight, which will be served in a few minutes.

Roddenberry:  Is it Kraft macaroni and cheese?  That’s the only kind I eat.

DuBois:  I’m not that particular.  I just appreciate an opportunity to break bread in such esteemed company.

Robeson:  I concur, my good man.  So, what are we discussing tonight?

Me:  That’s you all over, Mr. Robeson:  straight to the point.  I admire that.  I invited you all here to offer your observations on racism as it exists in the United States today.

Parks:  After all these years of toil and accomplishment, and we’re still talking about it…

Me:  Yes ma’am — but I don’t mean just the bigotry and discrimination racist attitudes cultivate.  I also want to explore the necessity of identifying our fellow Americans first and foremost by their skin color.

Shakur:  You lost me.

Roddenberry:  Yes, I totally understand…although I’m at a distinct disadvantage in this company, as I have not been a victim of racism.

DuBois:  In some ways, you certainly have, Mr. Roddenberry –

Roddenberry:  Call me Gene.

DuBois:  I’ll be Dr. DuBois!  But seriously, Gene, you are victimized by racism as well.  For one, you grew up in a society where being white afforded you the chance to attain anything your mind could dream and your talent could achieve, while a segment of the same citizenry to which you belong couldn’t dare to imagine themselves as a famous TV writer.  For another, you were limited by the mores of society in whom you could call friend, neighbor, co-worker…and lover.

Roddenberry:  Good point.  I once had an intense relationship with Nichelle Nichols, who played Lt. Uhura on my TV show, “Star Trek.”  But we could never be a couple in public.

Robeson:  “Star Trek” was a wonderful show.  I see now why you’re here with us.

DuBois:  I concur, Paul.  That show may have done more for race relations than anything else on TV up to that point.  What it did is depict a future where things like skin color, nationality, and gender were no longer hindrances in achieving lofty goals.  People worked together, respecting each other’s differences without lingering on them.  Competence was the only prerequisite.

Roddenberry:  Dr. King told Nichelle essentially the same thing.  I cried when I learned that someone of his stature understood what “Star Trek” was all about.  Even the network brass didn’t totally get it.

Parks:  I can’t tell you the number of times I watched those episodes, feeling hopeful that the Star Trek universe COULD become our reality.

Me:  One of my favorite episodes was “Let That Be Your Last Battlefield…”

Shakur:  Oh yeah — dudes’ faces were painted white on one side and black on the other, but because the white part was on the right side of one guy’s face and on the left side of the other guy’s, they had major beef!   I wish that some KKK boys saw that and thought, “we’re a bunch of backward rednecks, cuz we’re just as stupid…”

Parks:  Today, they’d just listen to someone like Rush Limbaugh, who would justify their attitudes as a legitimate response to ‘losing their country’ or some such nonsense, and dismiss the show as liberal media propaganda…

Roddenberry:  Oh, they had dittoheads in the ’60s too!

Robeson:  Even earlier than that.  Once I declared I was a ‘radical’ Communist, I couldn’t get work in the U.S. — and was restricted from traveling abroad.

DuBois:  As our good brother Tupac would say, “I ‘feel’ you on that one, Paul.”  I had to move to Ghana to get some peace.  What’s so sad is that this generation has access to a plethora of information to educate themselves, but many choose not to.  It’s more expedient for many to listen to sound bites than to do their own research. 

Me:  Yes sir.  So many of our 21st century hatemongers depend on “volunteer illiterates” to be apathetic toward researching facts themselves, so they can just pour their own brand of “truth” into people’s heads.  And some of these folks invoke their own brand of Christian faith in order to do it. 

Shakur:  It’s a game, y’all!  It’s all about money.  Whatever sells is what they’re gonna promote.  In my song, “Changes” I talk about how both black people and white people smoke crack.  But who you see on the 10 o’clock news?  I’ll tell you who:  NI–

DuBois:  Before you finish that statement, let me just say that I really don’t want to hear the word I think you were preparing to utter, Tupac.  I was one of the founding members of the NAACP; one of its purposes was to eradicate that moniker. I am extremely sensitive to hearing that word — especially from another ‘colored’ man…

Roddenberry:  I’m staying out of this one.

Shakur:  That’s wise of you, Gene.  You’re cool and all, but don’t even LOOK like you wanna say it.  And, that would be my response to you, Dr. DuBois:  that I can say this word, and Mr. “boldly go” here better not. 

Me:  I’ve heard that word used all my life from my friends and family.  My parents told me that it was a way to diffuse the sting when uttered by white people. 

Robeson:  Brian, you didn’t grow up when Rosa, DuBois, or I did.  Yes, we often called each other the ‘N’ word in private, but we were fooling ourselves into thinking it would make it less painful to hear it uttered towards us when used as an epithet.  I heard it used when I was a star athlete at Rutgers; my own teammates used it towards me!  This word is designed to attack us spiritually – it still is — and now, we’re doing it to ourselves.  Tupac, some of your contemporaries’ lyrics use the word, and others, in a demeaning fashion.  I find that hard to justify.

Parks:  I can hardly listen to any of it.

DuBois:  I don’t think we should pile on Tupac and other hip-hop artists.  I don’t want to speak for Tupac, but I would guess that these artists are expressing the anguish of living in a racist society, using the only language they know will reach their constituency.

Shakur:  Preach!

DuBois:  The people who are offended by the language are reacting to the surface, rather than exploring the context of his message.

Shakur:  Amen, Dr.  I didn’t think you’d understand.

DuBois:  I do.  Now, I must say that the glorification of misogyny and violence are problematic for me and many others, to be sure.  I don’t totally buy the “we’re just rapping about our experience” argument.  As I imply in my book, “The Souls of Black Folk,”  the most talented among us should be helping and inspiring the rest of the race…thereby, the greater society will benefit.

Robeson:  So, let me make sure I understand:  you’re saying that even the most vile of the hip-hop genre has merit?  I can’t say I agree with that.  

Parks:  When I lived in Detroit, I was robbed and attacked in my home by a young man.  He knew who I was, was aware of my experience, but it didn’t stop him from taking my money and hitting me.  There are many hip-hop lyrics which glorify that existence and behavior.  As you young people would say, “I ain’t down with that.”

Shakur:  I hear y’all.  You have a point, ma’am; I can’t front.  Lookahere though: when this country starts coming to terms with its own terroristic history towards the poor and people of color, then I’ll be open to criticizing my game.  In the meantime, I gotta do my thing…

Roddenberry:  OK, I’d like to speak up here…because, I think this discussion goes beyond hip-hop.  I think it speaks to all forms of artistic expression, particularly within the black community.

Me:  Really?  How so?

Roddenberry:  Well, I don’t profess to be an expert sociologist, but my experience with my show gave me insight as a white American:  mainstream society is not comfortable with having its role in perpetuating racist attitudes exposed.  It’s like you were saying earlier, Dr. DuBois:  people choose NOT to know.  That’s why revisionist historians like Glenn Beck and Mike Huckabee (in my day, it was people like George Wallace and Lester Maddox) focus on tidbits that demonstrate the best of “us” — and by “us,” they mean “white people” — while feigning amnesia on the near-genocide of Native Americans and the subjugation and enslavement of native Africans. 

Robeson:  Now, they’re doing it to Mexicans and Muslims…

Shakur:  Your point?

Roddenberry:  My point is, ANY form of artistic expression, whether it be in music, the theater, or literature, which depicts the underbelly of society is going to be attacked and downplayed.  Remember, “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” was not popular in the South when it was first published — and very well may have contributed to the ‘Wahr Betwain the States’.  And, should that expression bleed over into social action…

Parks:  Amen, Gene!  Now you’ve really opened a up hornet’s nest.  I know a little bit about social action.

Robeson:  What you and the SCLC did was a game-changer, to be sure, Rosa.  Not to downplay my own experiences, or that of the others here.

Me:  I think it goes without saying that everyone here is in awe of your courage and dignity, Mrs. Parks.

DuBois:  Hear, hear!

Shakur:  I think everyone here has risked something over their lifetimes.  In particular, Paul’s experiences were on a par with mine.  Cops hounded me to death, just like they did you…

Robeson:  Yes, the justice system certainly persecuted me quite thoroughly…and, the fact that it wasn’t legal did nothing to deter the perpetrators.  As a citizen, I had a right to my political beliefs.  But because it was I, a famous singer/actor, an educated scholar, an accomplished athlete — who just HAPPENED to be Negro – I was supposed to be satisfied with my station, instead of demanding respect. 

Me:  It’s what I call the “Boy-Don’t-Know-His-Place” syndrome.  Accomplished blacks are supposed to be happy with their achievements, and be silent;  one of the “good” ones…

Parks:  You were ahead of your time, Paul…and a great inspiration to us during the Montgomery bus boycotts.  Of course, we would not have had the organizational muscle without your vision of the NAACP, Dr. DuBois.

DuBois:  I was one of several, but I thank you nonetheless.

Shakur:  Yeah, big ups to you, Doc.  You the O.G. in this room!

Me:  I’m grateful to all of you.  So, before we get to dinner,  just want to kinda get back to my main topic:  racism today.  What do you see?

Shakur:  I STILL say America ain’t ready for a black president…

Parks:  Well, America actually elected one.  That was a pleasant realization! 

DuBois:  Despite itself, I would add.

Parks:  So, are you saying that Tupac is right?

DuBois:  Yes, he’s absolutely right, in the sense that America can’t see Barack Obama as our president; they see him as our BLACK president.  As such, there are those who believe Obama is unworthy simply because his father was Kenyan.  It blinds them to the fact that his mother was one of  ”them.” 

Parks:  To be fair, the black community does its best not to acknowledge Obama’s mother — perhaps that would rob them of the “blackness” of his presidency?

Shakur:  Yep, we’re definitely shortin’ Barack on his white heritage.  We gotta keep our icons “pure black” I guess.

Robeson:  So, Obama’s not ‘white’ enough for white America, yet black America would rather forget about his blended heritage altogether — or, suggest that he’s not black enough.  It is what it is, I suppose. 

Roddenberry:  Of course.  As you all clearly recognize, the first is always the “pioneer” – regardless of race. Therefore, we tend to deify that pioneer.  I think there’s a very vocal segment of society — the “Tea Party” for example — who wishes to undermine the deification of Obama’s presidency, this legacy of progress. Perhaps they think it mitigates their status as ’real’ Americans.  Obviously, I think there’s some justification in acknowledging that Obama is the first black man to hold the country’s highest office.

Robeson:  Perhaps, when he was first elected.  But the country should be way past that now, don’t you think?

Me:  And therein lies the problem.  As a country, we have progressed past the point of slavery, Jim Crow, segregation, and busing.  But still, the first thing we do when we think of each other is classify one another by race.  For much of mainstream society, there’s “Americans” and there’s “them other folk who ain’t like us.” 

DuBois:  You’re suggesting the country is developing a social caste system?

Roddenberry:  I’d probably put that in the past tense, Dr.

Robeson:  Absolutely.  There’s never been a moment in American history when the “haves” didn’t do their best to segregate themselves from the “have nots.”  Today, they’re back to using the prison industrial complex as a method to perpetuate the cycle of poverty — particularly in the minority segment of the U.S.

DuBois:  Which is why we need voices like Tupac’s — and Kanye’s, and Jay-Z’s, and T.I.’s — to keep beating the drum against the status quo.  I may find the content distasteful, but I trumpet its necessity.  It’s one of the few platforms available for those without power.

Shakur:  Not to mention, hip-hop sells.  Good lookin’ out, Doc.

Robeson:  Unfortunately, I have to concede your points, gentlemen.  I know what it’s like to be silenced.  And, Lord knows, we’re not going to see a reality show or cable news program in which to expound on these issues.

Parks:  Yeah, there’s no black “The Daily Show” is there?

Me:  There’s a handful.  Tavis Smiley has a show on PBS.

Robeson:  Roland Martin is out there, too.

Shakur:  I was feelin’ D.L. Hughley’s show for a minute. 

Parks:  But there’s too many of the shows like “Basketball Wives” and ”Real Housewives of” whatever…just nonsense.

Me:  So, the struggle continues?

DuBois:  I regret to say that it does.  But the struggle helps to make us stronger.

Robeson:  Yes.  Remember what Teddy Roosevelt said:  “Anyone can give up; it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that’s true strength.”

Shakur:  No doubt.

Roddenberry:  So, there’s hope, isn’t there?  I truly believe the world I created for “Star Trek” can become reality…

Parks:  I’d say that conversations such as the one we’re having this evening can go a long way towards making it happen, Gene.  This discussion MUST continue. Too many folks are fearful of even discussing the issue of race in earnest, for fear of saying something that would color them racist.

DuBois:  Or, the other side of that, Rosa:  We’re allowing bigots to initiate and limit the conversation, using code language to lend credence to racist attitudes and ideals.  By NOT participating in that exercise, we fuel the fire of ignorance, hatred, and dispassion.

Me:  Then, by all means, let us continue this dialogue over dinner, shall we?

This blog entry is dedicated to the memory of Rev. Ian McCrae — a great and gentle man who would absolutely love to participate in this conversation…and, most likely, already has!

As you know, I recently devoted a blog entry to your sister at Christmas, addressing her question about why President Obama was, is, and remains a target for vicious attacks on his policies, his character, his race, and his national origin.  The level of nastiness is unprecedented, rooted in centuries-old bigotry and ignorance, and is likely to ramp up as we come closer to the 2012 election cycle.  While I feel it’s my duty to be as informed as possible about what’s happening in my world, I become extremely disheartened by the degenerative level of intellectual debate in this country, as promoted by the media – and increasingly disturbed by my fellow citizens, who apparently have an appetite for salacious gossip masquerading as cutting-edge reporting.

The truly unfortunate byproduct of this reality is that there’s been a resurgence of overt bigotry – something I’d always hoped would be non sequitor during your lifetime.  To be fair, there will always be those who feel the need to disparage others in order to feel good about themselves and their station.  I was really optimistic that you and your sisters would be spared the indignity of being a target for racial confrontation.  In my home state of Oklahoma, a white politician (State Representative Sally Kern) suggested that blacks are inherently lazy, which is why they don’t perform well in school and are so populous in U.S. prisons (she also mentioned that women don’t want to work hard, either).  After observing me, my friends and our family, I think you know, at 11 years of age, how stupid a remark that was.  The problem is, this person is a LEADER – and the “unenlightened” among her constituency will accept Ms. Kern’s statement as fact.

My son: the responsible, disciplined and humble young man of my dreams...

First, I should say I’m very proud of you.  You’re not perfect, but no one is.  As long as you do your best, you’ll have no problems from me.  You have been subject to a LOT of repetitious lectures from your mother and me, most of which are designed to equip you with the tools and tactics for becoming a successful, mature, and happy adult.  It is our belief that every person must consistently exude three characteristics for success:

Responsibility

Discipline

Humility

The fact that people like Sally Kern are becoming more emboldened in espousing their ridiculous rhetoric only elevates these characteristics in their importance.  You’ve already experienced having one kid in your school who questioned your heritage – suggesting you “pick a color.”  Being biracial, as President Obama is, I’m sorry to say that you’re likely going to begin encountering a few more people like that during your lifetime.  You may find that friends of mine will have that attitude.  You may also discover that members of your own family might pressure you to identify with a specific racial identifier…suggesting that it’s necessary.  Indeed, I need to prepare you for the reality of being perceived and treated as an African-American – and I’m proud to do so (it’s kind of a tradition in my family!).  However, as your father, who grew up during the civil rights movement, and has been confronted with racist attitudes and discrimination my entire life, I also say to you:  You do not have to accept other people’s labels of who you are.  It is my opinion that you get to do that for yourself.

During Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech in 1963, he stated that he hoped his “four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”  Well, we may be a little closer to that day than Dr. King was during his lifetime, but we are not quite there yet.  You have friends from diverse racial and cultural backgrounds.  You live in a diverse neighborhood.  Your family is racially diverse.  You are the walking embodiment of diversity, Sam!  But, that’s only part of the journey; the other part of that statement relates to character.  What I’m suggesting to you is this:  you can’t control how others view you (what other people think of you is none of your business), but you CAN control how you view yourself.  Part of building the best Sam you can be is by being the kind of person Sam respects.  Let’s look at that.

The first characteristic is RESPONSIBILITY.  That means “doing what you’re supposed to do when you’re supposed to do it.”  You learned that when you were two.  Probably the first responsible thing you learned was going to the bathroom, instead of in your diaper.  You control that to this day.  You know what to do, and when to do it; when it comes to bathroom breaks, you’re responsible.  As you age, the list of things you know you’re supposed to do grows – as it should. 

The second is DISCIPLINE, which means “doing what you’re supposed to do when you’re supposed to do it – even when you don’t feel like doing it.”  It’s easy to not do your homework; your parents have blessed you with a multitude of “distractions” to keep you from doing your schoolwork.  You know you need to get your homework done, but sometimes, that Wii is calling you a little louder than your chapter on photosynthesis.  When you make the choice to get your work done, without your mother or me threatening to lodge one of our shoes in your butt, it builds our trust in you – and your confidence in yourself. 

The last one is HUMILITY.  This is challenging to describe; the way I put it is “getting what you want last.”  It is my contention that this is a quality that can’t be taught, but just about everyone learns it at one time or another.  Ever felt like you deserved the benefit of the doubt, but didn’t get it?  That’s humility.  How about being picked last on the playground?  Yep.  When you want to ride your bike to a friend’s house, and we say no?  When you wanted the last piece of pie, but we let your friend have it instead?  When your sister has the remote on the “big” TV downstairs, and you have no choice but to watch the program she chooses?  All that’s humility.  Now, imagine that you’re imposing those same restrictions on yourself!  That’s the character-building kind of humility I’m talking about.  Again, I don’t think you can teach that – but perhaps, I (and others) can be an example for you.

For all three of these character traits, you should add the word SELF in front of it.  When you become an adult, and no longer under my authority, you’ll be making decisions on what you want to do, and who you want to be – without your parents looking over your shoulder (well, maybe we’ll take a peek now and then!).  During those first steps into adulthood, you’ll find that your newfound freedom of choice (life is ALL about choices, son) will expose your selfish nature more than at any time in your life.  Selfishness in and of itself isn’t bad; it’s what keeps us alive (it’s called self-preservation).  But in applying discipline and humility towards your responsibilities to yourself, your family, your employers, and your community, you can prove the lie of bigotry and prejudice that some people would have us believe is justified.  Any person – no matter what their race, creed, color, religion, sex, national origin, height, weight, education, or hygiene (OK, that last one really matters!) – who demonstrates these three characteristics is worthy of our respect.  I believe there are many people of color, including President Obama, who exemplify those qualities.  I believe that, with some practice and a little prayer, you too will fully develop those qualities yourself.   Those who would not grant you the courtesy of being treated with the dignity those qualities demand exposes them as persons lacking in those same qualities.  I would suggest that your response to them should be an abundance of kindness…and pity.

Remember, son:  YOU are responsible for your own happiness.  Don’t rob yourself of happiness by dwelling on other people’s assessment of you that doesn’t involve your character.  You are special, Sam – just the way you are.  Don’t let anyone take that away from you.

Then of course, the choice is yours

You can get with this, or you can get with that

You can get with this, or you can get with that

You can get with this, or you can get with that

I’ll think I’ll get with this, ‘cause this is where it’s at

Black Sheep, “The Choice is Yours”

Love always,

Dad

Nearly three years ago, I approached my pastor, Rev. Holly McKissick, to express my…displeasure with the mainstream media for persecuting another pastor, Jeremiah Wright, for some very strong comments he made, in reference to the September 2001 terrorist attacks against the United States, from the pulpit.  I was “displeased” because, while the comments were ripe for discussion, no one — regardless of political leanings — was willing to address the CONTEXT in which Wright made that infamous statement.  It was clear to me that the motive behind the discussion was simply to link Rev. Wright’s out-of-context statement to then-Senator Barack Obama (he was once a member of Wright’s congregation), and even clearer to me that the pontification was magnified due to the racial makeup of the principals (don’t recall Jerry Falwell’s controversial 9/11 statements receiving anywhere near the level of vitriol directed at Wright).  I wanted to do something.  So, a team was cobbled together (thanks David, Viannella, Mark, Brandon, Emanuel, and many more!) to see if we could figure out a healthy way to address this race thing.   In my opinion, one of the better solutions we created was this blog – whose purpose was, is, and remains to enable a sacred conversation on our perceptions (or misperceptions) around race, prejudice, and bigotry, in order to foster a revealing and healing dialogue.

I provide this review, because whenever I promote this particular blog, I receive mostly positive feedback.  Depending on the topic, I often find myself in a spirited debate (the one that has has so far been the most polarizing is this entry).  Sometimes, people reveal personal insights into their experiences with race (as I did in a “valentine” to my wife here).  On occasion, I’ll get on a soapbox (as I did during last year’s Black History Month observance, when I took one of my favorite actors to task:  Morgan Freeman).  My favorite ones are those which reveal factual information by addressing a subject which is widely misunderstood. For example, if you’re interested in getting the facts about Affirmative Action, check out the actual letter I wrote to Pat Buchanan.  I’ve heard more than once that this endeavor “isn’t going to change anything.”  Not that I’m comparing our efforts, but I have a feeling the SCLC heard some similar sentiments during discussions on the Montgomery bus boycott.  Ultimately, this exercise — which we feel is conducted with the best intentions, and within a welcoming spiritual atmosphere — help us along our journey past tolerance towards acceptance. 

This entry falls within the “personal insights” category.  It’s not only a good memory, but it’s one of the my fondest memories of my childhood.  In my early years, I was a very skinny kid.  I wasn’t very self-conscious about it at first, until I earned my first nickname on the playground around the 4th or 5th grade:  Crazy Legs.  I earned that moniker because I was undergoing a growth spurt, and grew some fairly large feet beneath some really long legs.  So, while I held my own on the ball field with the fellas, I wasn’t what you’d call the most coordinated guy out there.  Think Weird Harold from “Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids” – except, perhaps, better dressed (and a much better musician!).  Suffice it to say, I was a little self-conscious about my slender build.  Hey, I was self-conscious, period.  All I wanted to do is fit in with my contemporaries, because, at 11 years old, I didn’t know how to build confidence in myself.  Of course, my peers didn’t either…but I didn’t know that.  I felt that, in order to be truly happy, I needed people to approve of and be accepting of me; without others’ blessing, I was forever destined to live as an outsider. 

Some may remember that busing was in vogue in the 70′s, and my first busing experience was to Eisenhower Middle School in the 6th grade.  For many of my friends, it was the first time they had been around many white kids.  I went to a private Catholic school through the 3rd grade (what up, Villa Teresa!), where I was one of a handful of blacks in the entire school; compared to the other kids in my neighborhood bused to this previously lily-white enclave, I was a seasoned veteran.  Truthfully, it wasn’t that bad.  Yes, there were a few moments of tension, but all I really remember is that when it came right down to it, we all were facing a common enemy (the Oklahoma City Public School system), so the race thing didn’t seem to be at the forefront of my problems.  Yes, the blacks all sat at the same tables in the lunch room apart from the whites, but I attributed that to geography more than skin color.  Everyone on my bus pretty much grew up together, so of course we gravitated towards one another.  No biggie.

So one day, the school announces tryouts for the 6th grade basketball team.  In 1974, I only cared about two sports:  baseball (because my dad was a coach) and basketball (because it looked like it was a game that skinny people could play well!).  I had a lot of basketball heroes at this time:  Walt “Clyde” Frazier, JoJo White, Wilt “The Stilt” Chamberlain, and of course, Julius “Dr. J” Erving.  My ultimate hero was George “Iceman” Gervin:  a rail-thin, silky smooth shooting guard for the San Antonio Spurs.  I had a Nerf hoop at home, and as my family will attest, I spent hours on that thing, practicing jump shots, dunks, and…finger rolls!  At school, I would wad up tens of sheets of paper, and practice shooting through the hydraulic supports on doors.  This was in addition to pursuing every opportunity to actually play at the park, at the rec center, or at school (you say obsessive, I say dedicated).  The first practice was at 6am in the morning.  6am.  In the morning.  On the other side of town.  This was a test, to see who wanted it bad enough; what 6th grader wanted to get up at 4:45am, so his dad could take him — TO SCHOOL — to participate in a practice when said 6th grader had no guarantees of making the team?  I did that for a week, Monday thru Friday, along with about 40 other guys. 

(Note:  Some of my former classmates, and one particular family member, may attempt to clown me on my subsequent roundball skills since the 6th grade.  To those individuals:  bring your money!)

Friday came, and Coach Heath (he was also my math teacher) hadn’t yet announced the 12 guys who made the cut.  Whatever my teachers covered that day, I am certain I got zeroes on, because I was all knotted up inside with the anxiety of a condemned man sweating his last few hours on death row.  Right before my final period, the pressure got to me.  I was late to my last hour class, so I had to go to the office for a “permission slip” (code:  offer pound of flesh to the vice principal in the form of a punctuality lecture).  On my way back to class, an announcement came over the P.A. system, with the results every 6th grader was waiting to hear — especially the 40-odd gentlemen who had spent the last five days going to bed at 7:30pm.  My heart stopped as each name was read:  “Darryl LeSure…Johnnie Johnson…Charles Douglas…”  I was happy for my friends, but would hate them if my name wasn’t called.  Then, miraculously, I heard my name.  I remember exactly what I did:  I asked the custodian in the hallway, “Did she say ‘Brian Foster’ just now?”  Of course, he wasn’t paying attention, so he just looked at me.  I RAN back to my classroom, because a couple of the guys who made the team were there, and I knew they’d tell me.  I walked in the class, and Johnnie was smiling.  My seat was next to his, so I went to my seat, figuring he’d slap me five if I’d made it (we didn’t have “high-fives” or “fist pounds” back then).  If he slid the five — even if it was on the black-hand side — I’d know that both of us had made it.  There was a bit of a delay in my confirmation, because I had forgotten to give the teacher my slip, so I had to turn around and give it to her.  I return to my seat, this girl — this white girl — named Jeannie Purdy said “congratulations” to me. 

That day was so validating for me, on a couple of levels.  First, this was the first real, public confirmation of my value in the world I knew:  whatever else I was, I was a member of the Eisenhower Middle School 6th grade team.  I was chosen — one of 12 special men deemed worthy of representing the school.  This was my very first fraternity, and most of the guys were already my brothers from the neighborhood, making it all the more special.  I thought I could play — I was never the “last one picked” in neighborhood games — but, now, I believed I had a singular talent sought after by, in my mind, the keenest of athletic observers in Coach Heath (the math teacher).  I was going to be in the yearbook!  I was gonna play in front of screaming fans!  I was going to wear an actual basketball jersey, instead of a grungy t-shirt with a ’44′ drawn on the back with a permanent marker! 

The other validating aspect of this significant emotional experience:  Jeannie Purdy (whose surname, in hindsight, also doubled as an apt description of her) never really said one word to me until that day — at least, none that I can recall.  Maybe she was shy, maybe she was self-absorbed, maybe she was scared, or maybe she was instructed not to talk to the “colored boys.”  All I know is, in that moment it seemed like that all Jeannie saw was a person:  just another student, who looks different, has different interests, comes from a different part of town, a product of a different history, but is now a representative of OUR school.  That day, we began a shared experience, a common goal:  beat all the other middle schools in basketball, and enjoy the journey along the way.  I’m forever grateful to her.  I don’t know where Jeannie is now, if she’s got kids, if she’s happy.  I don’t think she ever realized her role in creating one the most euphoric moments of my life.  There have been few events that have topped that day.   Nowadays, I don’t feel I need others to validate who I am; I am content defining that for myself.

Our country spends a great deal of time and energy arguing, fighting, and insulting each other over political and social ideologies, religious beliefs, and whose sports teams are better.  Seems like part of being an American is tearing down anyone who doesn’t think like you, then turn around and preach to the world about how great we are at respecting each other’s right to free speech and freedom of religion.   I fear the world views us as mediocre professors:  If you can’t do, teach!   Most of the world has long since dismissed us as hypocrites and imperialists; to them, America is an out-of-control, consumer-driven, greedy, irresponsible, busy-body, foul-mouthed, godless, know-it-all society.  They have a point; we have a military presence on every continent but Antarctica, we spend more than we have on stuff we don’t need, and one of the most popular shows on our airwaves is “Jersey Shore.”  People voted in greater numbers during the 2010 season of “American Idol” than they did during the 2010 congressional elections.  The same people who spout messages of “moral values” also support a U.S. state supporting a law that potentially criminalizes a segment of their citizens for ”looking like an illegal Mexican.”  The same people who are screaming that they want to “take our country back” — from whom, by the way? — spend precious time and resources undermining the current leader of “their” country by wasting time on ridiculous “we’re-in-charge-now-boy” votes to repeal healthcare reform, and demanding that leader “prove” his citizenship by producing a birth certificate.  Andy Shepard, the lead character in “The American President,” makes a statement during his climactic speech:  “We’ve got serious problems, and we need serious people.”  They’re talking to you, Mr. Beck.  They’re talking to you, too, Mr. Olbermann.

There isn’t much you could say or do to convince me that much of the posturing isn’t based in large part on race — African-Americans, Hispanics, Chinese-Americans, Middle-Easterners.  Of course, the disdain is hidden behind code words, so as not to appear too bigoted (it’s not working; smart people get what they’re doing).  That’s ugly enough as it is; what’s even more disturbing to me, as a man who holds to Christian tenets, are so-called Christians are ignoring the “golden rule” as outlined in Matthew 7:12 in order to attack Islam and the Muslims who practice their beliefs right out in the open.  What a lot of these folks are either forgetting — or ignoring outright — is that we are occupants of the same planet (Earth), running in the same race (the “human” race), hoping for the same outcome (happiness).  It is my fervent belief, my friends, that emphasizing our connections as people sharing the planet is the secret to racial harmony…and the reason I continue to post these blog entries.   If everyone adopted the attitude Jeannie conveyed towards me all those years ago…perhaps we can achieve what even the most bigoted individuals want:  peace on Earth, goodwill towards men.

Did I mention that our 6th grade team was undefeated that year?

When this picture was taken, people were actually nice to one another!

One of the reasons I wanted you to attend Obama’s inauguration was so that you could be a part of an historic event — arguably, the most historic event in my lifetime.  I realize you’re only 6 years old, but I think you’re old enough to understand that you don’t have to LIKE everyone, but you need to RESPECT everyone.  And by that, I mean “courtesy” — which, unfortunately, isn’t so common anymore.  Whenever you see your mother or me watch “Keith Olbermann,” “Bill O’Reilly,” “Real Time with Bill Maher,” or even “The Daily Show,” you see people yelling, screaming, and fighting.  You’ve heard rude talk on the sports talk radio stations I listen to, and the pregame shows I watch.  You’ve witnessed rude talk at the baseball stadium.  You’ve watched yelling on commercials for “Cheaters,” “Jerry Springer,” and “Dr. Phil.”  And, you definitely saw it on all the negative political ads during election season.  Most of the time, the discussion is not even that important; the parties involved are simply focused on winning.  Unfortunately, that’s what our society teaches:  it’s more important to BE right than to DO right.

Miami Heat's LeBron James

For those of you who don’t know much about the goings on in the NBA (or care), Mr. James exercised his right as a basketball free agent and selected to play for the Miami Heat over the next five years, with his good friends Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh.  Included in his decision is 1) taking less than market value for his talents, 2) sublimating his ego to team with players of similar talents, and 3) leaving the only home he and his family have ever known (Cleveland/Akron), in the pursuit of a championship ring.  For that, he is being crucified just about everywhere…except in Miami, of course.  Hey, LeBron is a grownup; he should be able to cope with the disappointment and hurt of his former, fair-weather fans.

With that said, I have a HUGE problem with the remarks from Dan Gilbert, the owner of the Cleveland Cavaliers.  OK, I get that he’s embarrassed, disappointed, hurt, etc.  But Gilbert just threw a man who made hundreds of millions for him – by filling up the arena, creating a national presence, and fielding a competitive team – under the proverbial bus.  I didn’t exactly enjoy reading Gilbert’s statement that “This shocking act of disloyalty from our home grown ‘chosen one’ sends the exact opposite lesson of what we would want our children to learn.”  But I was offended by Gilbert’s most telling comment: “It’s not about him leaving; it’s the disrespect.”

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.  Somebody’s taking this “owner” thing a bit too literally.

It’s called “free agency” for a reason, Mr. Gilbert.  Your fellow owners created the system, in partnership with the players.  When you acquired the team, you KNEW this was a possibility.  OK, you hoped he would stay, but he didn’t.  OK, he chose to make this an “event” during primetime (with a little enablement from the NBA, ESPN, Nike, and every basketball fan who watched it).  If it would have been me, I would have taken Ron Burgundy’s immortal words to heart, and kept it classy, Cleveland.  Instead, they’re hot in Cleveland now – warming themselves by the LeBron jersey bonfires. I wonder how each of us would react if our decisions received the same level of scrutiny.

Gilbert’s attitude can be described by what I like to call the “Boy-Don’t-Know-His-Place” syndrome.  Anytime a prominent Black male does something contrary to whatever is in the best interests of the mainstream power structure – for example, being elected President of the United States – there’s a very loud chorus of vitriolic criticism directed his way (and not just from News Corp. outlets).  These are the kind of people who promote freedom when it suits them (free trade), but decry it when it doesn’t (free speech).  Talk show hosts like Howard Stern, Rush Limbaugh, Don Imus, Armstrong Williams, Laura Schlesinger and Chris “Mad Dog” Russo can say pretty much anything they want about anybody they want; it doesn’t even have to be true. Larry Flynt has been celebrated as a protector of free speech, and was immortalized in a major Hollywood film (I guess Hustler magazine is considered a “national treasure” — I sure thought so…when I was 17!). Brett Favre has made an annual game of “will-he, won’t he…and where” regarding his playing.  Many years ago, Stanford University quarterback John Elway told anyone who would listen that he refused to play for the Colts if they drafted him, which influenced the draft; more recently, Eli Manning did the same thing to the Chargers.  This kind of stuff happens in sports. Today, Elway and Eli are celebrated as heroes…and champions (as is Favre). So why are Black athletes with extraordinary skills on the playing field seemingly excepted from this rule? I have a theory (surprise).

A few years ago, Warren Sapp described his NFL service as “slavery.” His descriptive was quickly dismissed by the talking heads on sports programs as “hyperbole.” Maybe it was, but I don’t think he was off by much. Most people said Sapp was wrong to use that term because 1) he was well-paid to play a game, and 2) he could quit at any time. Those were the facts. I think people were too quick to identify the facts, in order to avoid exploring the context of what Sapp said. So I’ll do it. I invite you to compare the NFL to the life of many “house” slaves. “House” slaves were given great food, the finest clothes, comfortable accommodations, and liberties not afforded to “field” slaves (e.g., vacations — and not just on Christmas). That sounds a lot like the life led by most NFL stars. After the end of the Civil War, when slaves were granted freedom, many slaves (particularly ones of the “house” variety) didn’t WANT to leave the plantation — even though it meant continued servitude and less freedom — because the rewards were too great (OK, some slaves were “tricked” into sharecropping, granted). Gee, that sounds an awful lot like what faces many NFL players on the downside of their careers. So, when examined with some intelligence, and without the inflammatory aspects of the slave institution (as practiced in the U.S.), Sapp’s comments can be viewed, within the context of freedom, as the life of an NFL player is comparable to that of a “house” slave — enjoying the benefits that his “master” provides (maybe that’s why he’s called an owner).

Slaves in general, but especially the “house” slave, were expected to be grateful and loyal to their “masters.” Those who weren’t were punished — sometimes, they even lost their lives. All because these rogue slaves didn’t exhibit proper allegiance to their lot in life. Does this mentality, whether consciously or subconsciously, still exist today among the beneficiaries of slavery? Are the descendents of slavery truly free to exercise the “rights” granted to them in 1863, by the descendants of those who created those rights for themselves in 1776? I suggest that the United States needs to engage in a meaningful exploration of the answers to these questions before piling on someone like LeBron James.

There are many folks who feel like I just made too much out of the reaction towards LeBron James.  Maybe I have, I don’t know.  All I know is, I’m very disturbed by the treatment this young man has received.  LeBron James, despite having a “healthy” ego (and we are ALL complicit in that), has been unselfish and hard-working as a basketball player.  I could just dismiss these folks as “playa haters” (in this context, it’s literally true!), but I fear that “boy-don’t-know-his-place” -ism is too insidious to diminish as a mere pop-culture colloquialism.  I’ve got news for these “haters:”  you cannot unring the bell chimed by Abraham Lincoln back in January 1863.  It’s too late.  Try as them haters may to rollback civil rights accomplishments, modern-day soul brothas (and sistas) just ain’t gonna give up the narrow freedoms they enjoy.  Many are complaining about the work still left undone.  Fortunately for Black people, there are like-minded White people who feel the same way.

To the true supporters of freedom, I say, thanks…and God bless you.

~Brian

(Note:  A portion of this blog includes information I previously posted in a different blog site.  So, I’ve plagiarized…myself!)

As some may know, Saint Andrew Christian Church publishes a weekly devotional message, written by a rotating cadre of members.   The January 13, 2010 entry, by our Director of Children’s Ministries — the wonderful Denise Dugan — touched me deeply.  Not only is The Sneetches one of my favorite Dr. Seuss stories (The Grinch Who Stole Christmas is still my #1), it aligns perfectly with the theme of this blog site.   I think her entry is a beautiful story, written with poignancy and warmth.  Considering the lack of compassion displayed towards the recent Haitian earthquake victims by “Christian” televangelist Pat Robertson (I’ll offer compassion to Pat by not attacking his comments…today), I thought her devotional was a timely one.   Over time, I hope the legacy of this tragedy (and others yet to come) is NOT how one individual sought to anoint himself and his audience as superior over fellow human beings…but, rather, how the world ultimately embraced one another as equals – as the Sneetches eventually did.  

With Denise’s permission, I’ve reprinted her devotional message, as follows:

One of my favorite stories as a child was Dr. Seuss’s The Sneetches. Do you remember it? The Sneetches with stars on their bellies discriminate against the Sneetches with no stars on their bellies, until one day when Sylvester McMonkey McBean arrives with a machine that will add a star to your belly — for a price. Come to find out, the machine will also remove stars from bellies — for a steeper price. As you can imagine, the Sneetches with the original stars have a terrible time trying to keep themselves separated from those “other” Sneetches, until they all run out of money (except Sylvester McMonkey McBean) and they finally learn that their two groups are really not so different after all, and they all become friends.

I don’t remember any lectures from my parents when I was a young child about the evils of prejudice and discrimination, although there were many discussions on the topic as my brother and I grew older. But I did learn pretty young (or do young children already know this until adults teach them different?) that we are all really the same inside, and it’s not fair to look down on or treat anyone differently for any reason, but especially because they look different than you.

I used to wonder why there weren’t more lectures and strongly dealt advice from my parents, as my friends described hearing from their parents. Then I remembered the Sneetches, and other stories that were common fare in our household when I was growing up. All the books we received as gifts. And not just stories out of books. Stories about real people, real choices and decisions, real lives. Maybe it’s because my dad is a preacher, but both parents seemed to instinctively know that stories make a much more lasting impression than lectures.

It’s why we all hate to miss Sunday mornings at Saint Andrew – because Holly is the quintessential storyteller. Most Sundays I can’t escape the sanctuary without tears coming to my eyes at least once as I listen to her preach (Yes, tears, that’s my measure of a good story – yours too, I bet.) It’s also why our 2010 theme for women’s ministries at Saint Andrew is “storytelling.” It’s why the church’s children’s nook is filled with books for our kids to read. Because our faith is shaped by the stories we hear and live out day to day.

What stories have set you on this course, shaped your values, changed your life? I bet they’re worth remembering, and honoring, and sharing.

Gracious Creator, we thank you for the stories that have made us who we are, and the stories that show us who you are. Grant us the courage and love to invite others into the story too. Amen.

~Denise Dugan

*If you look around
The whole world’s coming together now

Can you feel it?

Can you feel it?

Can you feel it?

  

It’s been over 18 years since that fateful night when an intoxicated Rodney King was beaten in the street by four Los Angeles police officers.  I’d think that we all remember the initial outrage at the video footage of the “suspect apprehension,” the disconsolate feeling of the state trial verdict, the disbelief at the community’s riotous reaction, the horror of the retaliatory assault on truck driver Reginald Denny, and the emptiness of the federal verdict convicting two of the four policemen.  The thing I remember more than anything — particularly during the holiday season — are the words spoken by King himself, in an effort to quell the violent uprising within the African-American community:

Linus Van Pelt

  

*Feel it in the air,
The wind is taking it everywhere, yeah

 

Can you feel it?

Can you feel it?

Can you feel it? 

1. If we truly employed this rule, without prejudice, world peace could be achieved. 
2. Employing the rule is not as simple for the doer as it seems; the recipient must welcome the treatment you’d want for yourself.  

Giving some thought to Thanksgiving, I couldn’t help but reflect on the irony of celebrating a holiday that acknowledges the treatment those early settlers received from the natives who saved them from a winter of starvation — but does NOT acknowledge how that kindness was returned over time.  Indirectly, the Native Americans who greeted those Pilgrim settlers at Plymouth (and, before that, Jamestown) set in motion events which ultimately led to their own quasi-destruction.  The truth is, just about every holiday we celebrate has some blood on it.  Think about it.  Christmas?  Should be difficult to discuss the birth of Christ without mentioning the role King Herod played in Mary and Joseph fleeing from Bethlehem, but we seem to manage.  Independence Day?  Oh, we make it about “freedom” and “taxation without representation” and “building a republic.”  Might not have ever come to that if a group of Boston protestors — among them a “free” Black, Crispus Attucks, who took that first fatal musket ball — hadn’t heckled those British soldiers.  Memorial Day? Veterans’ Day? Easter?  Should be self-explanatory.  Valentine’s Day?  Named after St. Valentine, a Roman priest believed to have been martyred for refusing to give up Christianity…and, lest we forget, Al Capone and his orchestrated February 14 ”massacre.”