Another Bloody American Tragedy: Ain’t that some s#!t?

My husband is as a-political as they come, and he pays little attention to the national news. He has an after-work ritual of getting into his American-made pick-up truck and turning on the sports news radio station, enabling him to endure the daily traffic from his job in El Segundo to our home in Eagle Rock, which as all Angelinos know, is not for sissies. On Monday, April 15, 2013, he was in his truck and ready to get caught up on all the straight skinny concerning the tight squeeze in the middle of the NBA Western Conference, as well as holler at the broadcasters for never giving his beloved Clippers enough credit for anything.

But on this day, his trip home would be filled with news and comments about the bombing at the Boston Marathon. When he got home, he was visibly shaken. My husband is a very large man who works supervising men and machines, loves basketball and karate, in which he is a black belt, and is a real man’s man. He is not easily shaken, or emotionally moved, as he was that day. His first words as he walked in the door were, “Ain’t that some s#!t?”!!

Usually when he comes home, he changes his clothes, sits in his big chair with the LA Times Sports page, and goes into his post-labor NBA man-cave for a while. But instead of a nearly obsessive interest in NBA basketball, he needed to talk, to debrief with me over the day’s tragedy.  These are the days I feel so lucky to be married to him. I realized in that moment, as we were sitting in our living room sharing our sense of shock and disbelief, that the only place I really feel safe is inside this man’s heart, as well as the hearts of everyone that I love: my son, my grandson, family and friends. The people we have to talk to when things like this happen.

I try not to use profanity in my writing, especially not in the title. It suggests to me an inability to find a better word. However, those words from my closest friend and partner just stopped me cold. The emotion and urgency in his voice was such a departure from his usual bold countenance. I was reminded of all those other American traumas; too many of them, and more frequently it seems lately.

I still remember the unbelievable shock and horror of all the violence of the 1960s, with the Civil Rights and anti-war demonstrations, and especially all of the assassinations: Malcolm X and Medgar Evers, followed by President Kennedy; and then the sense of being unable to escape this violence after witnessing the murders of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy. I remember waking up to my mother sobbing into a bath towel upon hearing the news of Bobby Kennedy’s shooting. I remember being glued to the TV after the assassinations, after Oklahoma City and 9/11, just as I am today, hungry for news from Boston.

I grew up with a sense that these incidents, while shocking and evil, were rare. But now, the rarity of these events is a distant memory, as we seem to be going through these national traumas nearly every month. Some of them, like Oklahoma City, 9/11, Newtown and Boston, blow a giant hole through our collective American heart. Others garner fewer national headlines, and/or for shorter periods of time than either of those above, but are no less heartbreaking for the community and families of those killed or injured in places like Aurora, Colorado and Oak Creek, Wisconsin.

And it takes its toll on all of us, each time our world stops, in order to process the latest horror being played out on our television sets. Not only does the present moment call for a collective, exhausting grief, it also awakens our memories of national traumas past, as well as making us feel a little less safe as we go about our daily routines. It used be easier to feel safe in this world, especially if you were just working day by day, minding your own business, like most of us do. But now, whether in venues of worship, entertainment, politics, or even shopping, there is no assumption that nothing crazy will happen to us. When did going grocery shopping, or to church, turn into a high-risk activity?

And now, I have to wonder when, and where, it will happen again. Because it will happen again. We all know that it will. Another day will come when we have to stop and look and grieve. Another day will come when our attention is diverted from something we were looking forward to, because it’s been pre-empted by something we could never imagine. It will come again because we have done nothing to prevent it from coming again. We are stuck in a cycle of violence that we think will go away, but it won’t. The cycle not only keeps on going, but speeds up with every complete revolution, in this seemingly endless American trauma ritual.

What’s the answer? I’m sure that I don’t know. Because if we can’t even get our congress to enact legislation that the vast majority of our citizens desire – and not just on guns – then how are we to move forward? If every time something happens, we try to find a way to blame it on “the other side,” how can we have an intelligent, informed and compassionate discussion in which we describe and listen to one another in an attempt to understand and compromise in order to problem-solve? Is trying to convince and convert everybody over to our side more important than actually creating lasting solutions, in which everybody gives up something and gains something in return? This action and inaction will do nothing to arrest, or even slow, this truly vicious cycle of killing and ruining lives.

No one lives forever, and I’m glad that I have learned that we are all eternal in the hearts we touch; but while I’m here I’d like to feel a little safer at the grocery store, as well as at Dodger Stadium.

It’s up to us, America! What’s it gonna be? More of the same? Or something new and different in which we learn to honor all Americans, even those with whom we disagree? Which one makes you feel safer?

 

They Don't Know What They Don't Know: Thank You, Rand Paul, For Proving This Point!

            I appreciate the GOP’s continuing efforts to “reach out” to women and ethnic minorities; not only because it provides an endless source of entertainment for me, but because at least they are actually noticing us now, and trying to “relate.” At least they’re not ignoring us anymore; that is, aside from their efforts at preventing us from voting at all.

            This week Rand Paul paid a visit to Howard University in an effort to “reach out” to African-Americans. Okay, so far, so good. Then he opened his mouth. I find it difficult to find the words to accurately express my utter astonishment at the exchange between him and the students, as he proceeded to quiz a roomful of African-American students at one of the nation’s oldest and finest Black colleges, on the history of the NAACP. Astonishment doesn’t quite cover it, but it will simply have to do.

            The senator seemed surprised that everyone there knew that, at the time the NAACP was established, it was the Republican party that was the progressive party, and so its founders were Republicans. He seemed even impressed, in a condescending sort of way, when he admitted, “You know more than I do.” No kidding, Senator. We already knew that about you.

            It seemed to me that what he was really saying was, “You know more than I thought you knew.” Of course we do. And this is the crux of the problem for Republicans. Most educated ethnic minorities that I know, have a greater knowledge and command of American history than most Caucasians, even those educated at top universities. We know the white, manifest destiny history that we were all taught. Not being satisfied with being shoved to the back of the history pages in a white-dominated society and education system, we sought a deeper understanding of the historical forces that left our kind on the outside looking in for most of our American history.

            So you see, Senator, it is not you and your ilk who need to school us about our own history. Rather, it is you who need to be schooled by us, about all the many, many things of which you are so woefully ignorant. We know it’s not your fault, and we have tremendous compassion for the ignorant white people in power; even though we are often amazed at how white men can meet with such success, knowing as little as they do.

            We are used to these condescending attitudes and the ensuing shock when white people discover our brilliance. We know what you’re thinking; mostly because you have told us many times, in ways great and small, that you naturally assume a lower level of intellect and skill for us. By the time those students got to Howard, they had already been subjected to white assumptions of inferiority countless times. This exchange was not a new experience for them, although this particular one was probably more personally rewarding for them than most; but it was certainly nothing new to be underestimated by a white person in power. That is a common experience, as well as a much too frequent one. We’ve all been there hundreds of times by the time we get to college, and thousands of times by the time we retire.

Those numbers are not an exaggeration. If any white person out there doesn’t believe me, ask your darker-skinned friends, if you actually have any that would be honest with you, if this condescending lowering of expectations is something they have experienced in their lives. Ask them how often. That is, of course, only if you really want to know.

And that is a deeper crux of the same problem. Caucasians, especially conservatives, have indicated over and over, that they just don’t want to know. Even with membership falling and facing possible extinction, organizations like the Republican Party, Rotary International, and other conservative organizations, continue to ignore information and input from people who are vested in, and care about these organizations, and who don’t enjoy watching them die such a slow and painful death.  There is a plethora of information about us, and yet, we continue to be such a mystery to you.

I have served in a leadership capacity in conservative organizations and it is unfathomable to me how very careless they are with their messaging, even after being informed by members of the group that their messaging is sexist, racist and off-putting to people like me. I cannot help but to mention that since 2007, when Barack Obama began running for president, and especially after 2009, when he took office, how much worse this situation became, with insults increasing in vulgarity and number. And this I experienced after years of working with leadership to try to create an environment less hostile to women and people of color. It’s not like nobody told them how they sounded. And yet, their hostility gets worse and worse.

Maybe, instead of trying to school us on subjects that we know more in depth than you do, perhaps you should do some listening. And some reading.

Read “The Devil’s Highway,” by Luis Alberto Urrea, before commenting about immigration.

Read, “Coming of Age in Mississippi,” by Ann Moody, before talking about how Jim Crow was, as Haley Barbour put it, “No big deal.”

            Read before you try to talk to us. Listen before you speak.

Or you can just keep on doing what you're doing, and keep on getting what you're getting, which is mostly chuckled at, by people like me. You certainly won't get our votes, or even our respect, until you have enough respect for us to step outside your comfort zone, and your preconceived ideas of who you think we are, and actually get to know us. We are just as American as you are. And soon, there will be more of us than there are of you; so we might as well create an America that is big enough for all of us.

           

BLINDED BY THE WHITE: THE GOP CONTINUES TO SERVE MOOSE-TURD PIE!



            I continue to be astonished at the Republican party’s insistence on doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Isn’t that how many of us define insanity? They hire pollsters and researchers and analysts, searching in the same old places, for the answers that keep evading them. The problem is that they do not seem to know how to admit that they are blinded by centuries of state and church sponsored white protestant male supremacy in these United States of America. Until they can accurately access their problem, they will not be able to fix it.

            Democrats have a long history of championing those Americans that the moneyed elite have a history of kicking to the curb, those who have been cast out as “the other”:  the poor, the sick, the aged, students, ethnic minorities, the LGBT community, women, and all of those who, until only the last 40 years, have been on the outside looking in. We care about them and make it a point to learn about these lives; as well being able to recognize ourselves in them and share our own stories. That is why those victimized by the “otherization” of conservatives have more routinely voted Democratic in those 40 years. And it is these voting demographics that are claiming a larger share of the electorate with each election cycle; and continue to be a mystery to the Republican leadership. They cannot win national elections without winning over a significant chunk of these voters.

            However, in order to be able to see and accurately evaluate the big disconnect with these voters, Republicans will have to look inside themselves and inside our American history, to discover, and learn to appreciate, some of the low points in our past; and the low level of compassion and respect for these groups that their party has repeatedly shown to us for decades.

            Just a few days ago, conservative Republican Congressman Young from Alaska used the term “wetback” to describe the labor force on his father’s ranch in the 1950s and 60s. While this is quite typical language coming from conservative speakers, what is different is that, this time, the GOP chairman actually demanded, and got, an eventual apology from this Alaskan representative. His first apology, essentially a lame excuse for an instilled and taught white supremacy, was not enough to satisfy anyone; another departure from Republican norms when insulting others. Usually we don’t even get an apology, or even an acknowledgement of how their choices of terms are offensive and obsolete. So, I think it is important to give credit for even the slightest speck of enlightenment in the Republican camp.

            This tiny ray of light, however, seems to be fueled not by a desire to understand the other, but rather to, somehow, figure out a way to get our votes, that is, if they are unable to suppress them. What Republicans don’t seem to understand is that we know, we can see for ourselves, that there has been no substantive change of heart. Their mathematical and demographic panic is a poor substitute for true concern and compassion. Knowing that you can’t make it without us is very different from actually wanting us around. The three largest growing demographics that will be coming into leadership in the next 10 years are Latinos, women and the millennials. All of these groups are smart enough to see through the thinly veiled attempts to attract our attention only out of desperation and confusion.

            It is their product that is no longer selling like hotcakes to a large white majority, largely ignorant of the lives and travails of “the other.” It is the product. It is the policies. It is their ingrained fear of, as well as constant underestimation of and condescension to, the other – ethnic minorities, students, the elderly, the poor, gays and lesbians and women who want to control their own destinies. It is what you say, as well as how you say it. It is that they do not know us, and what they think they do know about us is just wrong and degrading most of the time.

            We can tell that white conservatives see themselves as superior to us, morally and intellectually. Why else would they say such things? That they themselves cannot see this is obvious, and the fact that they refuse to face this truth is what very well may continue to decimate their party for years to come.

            It is obvious that Congressman Young honestly felt that it was okay to use the term “wetback.” We know what racial slander John Sununu was pedaling when he described President Obama as “lazy.” There are images conjured-up when these words are spoken. We know that Haley Barbour couldn’t possibly have known what he was talking about when he described growing up in segregated schools as “no big deal.” No big deal for him, I’m sure. We know what kind of image Newt Gringrich was inviting when he said that poor black children don’t know what work is because they have no experience of seeing people go to work all day. We know that these images are what white conservatives see when they see dark-skinned people; and that it is nearly impossible for them to see someone like me, someone like President Obama, for who we truly are – members of groups traditionally discriminated against who had to work 10 times harder than Young, Sununu, Barbour and Gingrich combined just to be able to get into good schools, and much more so into the Ivy League.

            In saying this, I do not suggest that white conservatives, who continue to use racial slurs and sexist jokes as if it was 1959, are all evil or stupid or unpatriotic. In fact, my experience in large conservative groups, like Rotary, has proven quite the contrary. For the most part, they are good and decent people who want to do the right thing. I heard many similar comments at my Rotary meetings, which is largely the reason that I am no longer a member. And yet, having come to know them more personally, I knew that the people saying these things were not mean people; just ignorant. And it is this same ignorance and pride that prevents the current GOP from moving forward with the new demographics. For me, these kinds of comments and antics arouse my curiosity more than any sense of slight. For how can this fear of “the other” trump even the survival instinct? Would they really rather die off than love us? Wow! How Christian is that? Why is it so hard for them to admit that they don’t know what they don’t know about us?

            I recall a cut from a Utah Phillips album called, “Moose-turd Pie,” in which he baked a beautiful pie made of moose dung. It’s really a funny routine. But when Republicans try over and over again to serve us moose-turd pie, it’s not so funny. You see, it really doesn’t matter if you serve this pie on the finest china, or garnish it with parsley, or try to make it look or smell like something else, we can still tell that it’s moose-turd pie, and it is not to our liking. We’re still not gonna eat it. Ever!

Marriage Equality and the Supreme Court: What to Make of it All!

 

            For two days this week, proponents and opponents of the rights of gays, lesbians and transgender Americans to be afforded the same marital protections that heterosexual couples enjoy, camped out in front of the United States Supreme Court in our nation’s capital to lend their voices and energy to their side of this most divisive argument. We saw the usual signs being carried, some by children who probably don’t really understand, but have been recruited by their parents and their community to evince intolerance or radical behavior, depending on which side you are on. We heard the talking heads all tell us how useless it is to predict how the court might rule, but they all did it anyway.

            I don’t want to get into the jurisprudential nitty-gritty on the possible outcomes because, quite frankly, I have no idea what the ruling might be and, as with the ruling on the Affordable Care Act, may be something unanticipated by the experts. What I really want to talk about is the tone and manner of the questions posed from the bench, and how they reveal a very deep cavern of woeful ignorance from some of the best educated men in the world. Moreover, why were the questions posed from the women Justices, as well as Justice Kennedy, much more representative of the reality of daily living for same-sex couples?

            First and foremost, is the manner in which, not only Justices Scalia and Alito, but Chief Justice Roberts as well, seemed to fear the newness of same-sex couples falling in love and wanting to get married. Talk about playing to the lowest common denominator! Homosexuality is nothing new. It’s even in the Bible. The only thing that is new about issues of homosexuality, is that in the 21^st century, most Americans have evolved out of their bigotry, which has been church and state sponsored for centuries. This institutionalized “otherness” is really what is at the core of this, as well as many other issues of our time.

            Justices Scalia and Alito expressed a dumbfoundedness regarding timing and history. When did this maliciously institutionalized discrimination become illegal? And what if this experiment doesn’t work out? And isn’t there research out there suggesting that being parented by homosexuals is bad for kids? This argument reminds me of the arguments against biracial marriages in the 1960’s, which went something like this:  We can’t let these people get married because their children will suffer at the hands of the empowered racists in our country. This argument clearly empowers oppressors and bigots, and excuses their malicious and unlawful conduct as a societal norm. I thought America was about empowering freedom, not state-sponsored hatred. Why are we always playing to the lowest common denominator, even in the face of an overwhelming national change of heart on this particular issue?

Justice Roberts seemed reluctant to see the plaintiffs as victims, and seemed to blame the pro-gay lobby for the fact that this case was even before him. Isn’t that kinda like saying to defendants Miranda or Gideon, “Well, you made it this far – all the way to the Supreme Court, so you obviously don’t need any 5^th or 6^th amendment protections because you have evidenced how empowered you are just by getting here. So go back to jail.”  What kind of judicial review is that? As I listened to these questions I was simply astounded at such profound ignorance in such a majestic setting! Which makes it all the more evident that we really need more women and ethnic minorities on every court in the land. I do not include Justice Thomas in the class of ethnic minorities, but more of an “honorary white” man, as that appears to be his desire.

            Justice Kennedy seemed to struggle with some of the same issues as his male counterparts, but asked questions about the children growing up in these families, showing his human side. Justice Kagan essentially proved the unconstitutionality of DOMA (The Defense of Marriage Act) directly from the bench by reading from a congressional report and revealing a clearly impermissible legislative intent. Justice Ginsberg’s “skim milk” marriage comment made it clear that she easily perceived the distinctions between a marriage that was fully recognized by the federal government and one that was not. Justice Sotomayor also evidenced a focus on the practicality of daily living, as well as a keen awareness of how the history of “otherness” plays out in our society.

            I don’t know what this court will do. It certainly has been full of surprises for everyone. I was hoping that Chief Justice Roberts was smart enough to see the handwriting on the wall, and seize this as his Earl Warren moment, when the then-Chief Justice showed us all how to make an about-face when it is appropriate, and just, to do so. But, alas, that does not appear likely.

            One thing we learned for sure is that old white conservative men, including Justice Thomas, don’t know what they don’t know.

Our New Pope: Reflections of a Catholic Taoist

 

            I have to admit that, as I watched the new pope, Francis I, addressing the crowd last night, I juggled a jumble of emotions – from anger to ecstasy to hope for a newer world. The anger stemmed from, not only the recent chaotic hypocrisy revealed by the child molestation scandals, but also from a life-time of wondering when the church might move past the 3^rd century and address the reality of spiritually parched Catholics all over the world in the 21^st century. We’ve been waiting for a long time.

            Like a lot of people I know, I grew up in a Catholic home and a largely Catholic community. I call myself a Catholic Taoist because, no matter how hard I try or how mad I get, I just can’t seem to tell myself that I’m not a Catholic anymore. Besides, some very nice nuns told me that the word “catholic” really just means universal. When I go to mass or observe Catholic Feast Days, it is because it feeds me inside somehow, and not out of any sense of obligation or duty. As a woman, it is really hard to support an institution that discounts me for no logical reason. Jesus never discounted women. He celebrated and honored us. But, I digress.

            The truth about my faith is that I cannot explain it to you because it is beyond definition, beyond what I can put into words or pictures, beyond fathom. It is a mystery, an unspoken blessing; a leap into the unknown and unknowable. For me, Taoism is the only place where my faith is allowed to be without limits, without prejudices, without need and without demands, other than those self-imposed as a measure the self-improvement and enlightenment which results from devotion and surrender to the Tao. I think whatever helps any individual to connect to the Spirit is a good thing. Catholicism, at some point, ceased to be an aid in communing with the Divine for me, and many others, I’m sure.

            So now we have what we might call, “a regular guy,” chosen to lead the world’s Catholics, Pope Francis I. While I hardly expect the ordination of women any time soon, there is something special about this man that signals possibilities for reform. He appears to be a true shepherd of the many, whose most powerful tool is the love of God. Particularly inspiring was the manner in which he asked the faithful to pray over him, and ask God’s blessing upon him. The powerful silence of the crowd in their communal prayer was heard around the world. This man distinguishes himself in announcing a new set of priorities: the poor, the sick; and all those who live without. Without food. Without shelter. Without love. Without even being noticed by most of us as we go about our busy lives.

            As I watched that spectacular sight, on a most historic night, I cried. I miss my mother a lot, and we would have been on the phone, if not in each other’s company, sharing this experience. But that wasn’t the only reason I was crying. I felt something stir within me. Was it my soul leaping for joy? Was it recognition of a kindred spirit? Or was it a whisper of a wind that brings a new age? A new era of enlightenment and understanding. Is that possible?

            Saint Francis has always been one of my favorite saints because of his love for animals and all those who have no voice in our busy world; the poor and dispossessed. I think it is significant that he chose this saint name; the first ever to do so. I think it is wonderful that we now have a pope from the new world, the Americas. The first Latino Pope ever! And a Jesuit! Wow! For a church that has done things the same way for centuries, this is new. I have known priests who don’t even consider the Jesuits real Catholics.

            Things are changing. Maybe not fast enough for me, but they are changing, and rapidly. There are many beautiful spirits about these days, encouraging us to find a new way to communicate, a new way to govern, a new way to live and a new way to love one another, as we are all in need of love and forgiveness. From Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday to Marianne Williamson’s Sister Giant movement, encouraging more women to, not only run for political office, but to bring their spirituality with them when they succeed, to Miguel Ruiz’s Toltec wisdom to Eckhart Tolle’s New Earth; the messengers are everywhere, championing compassion and respect for each other and for our earth, as we move forward each day, in creating the world that we so desperately want to see, the paradise of plenty that is waiting for us.

            So in this moment, the significance of a new focus on prioritizing, rather than demonizing “the other;” the stranger, the one who is not like us, the meek, who will one day inherit the earth, is truly a breath of fresh air. Could this pope be one of the messengers announcing that that day is upon us?

            This possibility turned my anger to ecstasy, and my ecstasy to hope. I hope. I hope.

Birds, Baseball and the Coming of Spring

by M. Irene Daniel

                Last week I became alarmed when I walked into my living room and there was a layer of soot all over the floor in front of our fireplace. We hadn’t had a fire for several days, and I could not figure out how all that soot got from the fireplace to the floor. I got out my vacuum cleaner and began to try to clean up the mess, and the more I cleaned, the more I realized that a film of grunge had settled on my entire living room. When I turned off my vacuum cleaner, I heard a noise rustling inside the chimney. It appears that some kind of varmint was trapped inside the chimney.

                I went on to other tasks, as I do have to work for a living; and when I returned to the living room some time later, I could see a pretty little bird that was now trapped inside the fireplace. I wondered if it could breathe okay with all that soot, but I also didn’t want to let it loose to fly around the house spreading more soot. Moreover, I wasn’t sure how my dog, Maggie, would react. So I called my husband and told him to hurry home after work to help me get this bird out of our fireplace.

                We were able to trap the bird in a large garbage bag. I held the bird, with its head outside of the bag, and went to let it out outside. It chirped a loud bird scream until I let it go outside my front door and watched it fly away.  It seemed none the worse for the wear of falling down my chimney.

                As I watched it fly away, I remembered how my mother so loved birds, and I felt an unfamiliar sense of freedom. I thought about how I was so like that bird these past few months. I too had fallen into a deep darkness that was blinding and suffocating. The more I struggled alone, the more I fretted and wore myself out. I also lashed out at times at those who tried to help me, for in my dark state, I could not recognize the assistance that was right before me. I too screamed when help arrived in the form of matters requiring my attention, my talent, my love; things that only I could offer to my family, friends and clients. And I too, am ready to fly out of the darkness and isolation of grief and despair.

                This time of year is usually pretty joyous for me. March Madness approaches, early spring blossoms smell sweet and defy winter with pretty flowers. And especially, Major League Baseball Spring Training comes to the Cactus League of Arizona. Spring training is one of the things I most missed when I moved to California, and I try to catch a couple of games every year when I visit home. Regular season games at Dodger Stadium are not the same at all.

                But this year, as the thrill of spring is at hand, with all the newness and freshness it brings, the first anniversary of my mother’s death approaches, and I am having a hard time feeling the wind beneath my wings. For now when I visit home, I can only visit a grave, instead of feeling my mother’s little arms wrap tightly around me, and I find it difficult to find happiness in the little joys and miracles of spring. I don’t even want to go to a spring training game. The thought of seeing the desert in all its beautiful glory, painting the desert with pastels and the bright yellow-green blooms of the Palo Verde trees, is somehow frightening now. My mother was alive last spring and now she is not, and I face the bittersweet experience of a new spring without her laughter and bright smile.

                And yet, I also know that it is time to let go. Let go of my mom. Let go of my grief. Let go of all of my despair and self-doubt. Let go, let go, let go!!

                And today there is new life in my back yard; and I watch squirrels steal fruit from my trees, and I hear the baby birds in their nests. My peach and plum trees are blossoming now. And soon my roses will be blooming again, and let’s not forget the sweet scent of the orange blossoms.  All of this beauty and new life is all around me and I cannot close myself off to it any longer. For to do so would certainly not honor my mother’s memory, and the memories of her joy in seeing the coming of spring. Sometimes I think that I can actually hear her voice telling me to let go now. Let go of death. Embrace life.

THE GOP’S SEARCH FOR ANSWERS: HISTORY ANYONE?

by M. Irene Daniel 

            Ever since the election results of 2012 revealed a gaping disconnect between the Republican party and people of non-caucasian ethnicity, we have heard a great deal of discussion about GOP soul-searching and trying to figure out what went wrong. Republicans seem to be absolutely baffled at the poor performance among, essentially, all demographics except for white men and old white people. The answers that continue to elude them seem glaringly obvious to someone like me, a 2^nd generation Mexican-American women, who is a product of LBJ’s Great Society. While the views expressed here are my own, I know my perspective on this issue is shared by many of us who, until recent decades, were on the outside looking in for so long. So, as CPAC convenes this week-end, here are my reflections on their current state.

            Before I go any further, I want to establish that I do not hate Republicans or conservatives. I do not hate white people. I am married to a white man whose only vote ever cast was for Ronald Reagan. The father of my only child has a strawberry-blonde complexion, and our son was born with a fuzzy red head. I know that this won’t stop the accusations of racism or liberal bias from my conservative friends and readers, but I offer these facts in an effort to demonstrate an open-mindedness that I find very liberating. For while I may be unable to understand a particular viewpoint, I acknowledge that it makes sense to somebody for whatever reasons that are beyond my grasp. People just do what makes sense to them.

            Moreover, this social blindness is not unique to the Republican party. Many groups that have been traditionally dominated by the white male establishment, country-club crowd, are experiencing a similar lack of diversity; and, consequently, a decline in membership and membership dues. Such was my experience as a Rotarian for several years. What I found most puzzling was how such educated, intelligent and community minded, good and decent people possessed little or no understanding of basic demographics, and how best to use them in order to maximize the group’s potential. Hence its membership rolls would continue to drop, as there were not enough younger, darker and more female faces to replace those who were, literally, dying off.

            What I find even more puzzling is how tone-deaf conservative Caucasians are when it comes to humor; or even non-conservative ones, as Oscar host Seth MacFarlane’s tasteless jokes reveal. Even Newt Gringrich commented after the election that there seemed to be something that he and his fellow Republicans were not seeing. So what we can all agree on is that there seems to be something very much amiss in GOP efforts to reach out to ethnic-American voters.

            As an avid history buff and occasional activist, I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that Caucasians don’t know the American history of the Indigenous, most of whose ancestry predates European presence on this continent. I remember being taught in school about Kitt Carson and John C. Fremont, and how many Indians they killed; but not until I was much older, and largely as a result of my own curiosity rather than any curricular requirements, did I learn about how these frontiersmen are viewed from the perspective of the Native American.

            We learned about slavery and lived through the Civil Rights Movement, and were told that we are all equal now. And yet, my dark-skinned brother was advised to enlist in the army in 1969, instead of thinking about college, even though he was 3^rd in his class in high school. We learned to tolerate the insensitive humor of the Caucasians because we needed the jobs, college admissions, scholarships and all the other opportunities from which we had been previously, and often brutally, excluded. So we put up with it all, and learned about our own, and each other’s ethnic American pasts, almost of all of which was filled with brutality and betrayal. We began to reach out to one another and support each other’s efforts and causes.

When I was in law school at UCLA, there were very few of the wealthy white crowd in our midst when, every spring, we protested the abandonment of real diversity as we had once known it on our Westwood campus. And every year, Black, Latino and Asian alums would come and talk to us, and support us and inspire us to continue our demands for equal opportunity. It was at one such demonstration that I heard words that I will never forget. They were spoken by an African-American alum whose name I do not recall and who I have never seen again; but his words resonate with me still. “None of us have made it, until all of us have made it,” was what he said. That sentence said it all to me. For even though I have been told that I could “pass” for white if I wanted to, and leave other victims of discrimination to fend for themselves; I had to speak out or else I would just be as bad as those who do the discriminating because I know better. I know what it feels like. And I think this is what Caucasians don’t understand about us. They don’t know us. They don’t know our history. And they don’t want to know.

I say this because I have witnessed countless examples of white persons who are successful and advanced in their fields that know little or nothing about race relations or any American history that is not something of the Manifest Destiny variety. For example, I have a very dear friend who is also UCLA Law School grad, and who went on to clerk for a U.S. Supreme Court Justice; as well as serving as an officer in the U.S. Navy. He is white and conservative and we disagree on many things, including the movie, ‘The Help.’ I found it woefully lacking in truth and reality, in its omission of crucial facts regarding the daily torture, murder and brutality of the ever-present white-on-black terrorism of the KKK that dominated Jackson, Mississippi in 1963, and for decades previous and subsequent to that time.

I found this deficiency disgraceful. However, my friend revealed to me that, until he saw this movie, he never realized how prevalent and all-encompassing the racism in the south really was at that time. What? I was absolutely incredulous. For how could someone with an outstanding professional education, at a “liberal” school no less, and who had served as a Naval officer; and especially who had clerked for a U.S. Supreme Court Justice, and therefore had to have read Civil Rights cases of the greatest import, be in such a state of unknowing about one of the pivotal issues in our entire national history?

So you see, white people don’t have to know anything about us, and they can do just fine. But we have to know even more about white people than they know about themselves, much less about us, to be truly competitive in what is still to this day, a very white man’s world. Look at who has been empowered from the beginning – white men with property. Those of us who do not fall into that historically empowered group, have to work harder and be more resourceful in order to compete because we can’t take anything for granted.

So, if Republicans really want to understand the real lesson of the election of 2012, perhaps they should learn more about us, and about the causes of, what appears to be, an inherent mistrust of one another. We’ve read all your white history; now why don’t you read some of ours?

Here is a suggested reading list to get started on the enlightenment of the white tribe:

1.      Coming of Age in Mississippi, by Ann Moody;

2.      The Devil’s Highway, by Luis Alberto Urrea;

3.      Anything by Howard Zinn;

4.      Bless Me, Ultima, by Rudolfo Anaya.

That should be good for starters, and these are just suggestions. The point is, if you want to see what we see when we see you, perhaps you should learn a little bit about what our lives have been like when only white people are in charge. It’s not pretty and we don’t hate you, Republicans. But we don’t trust you either, and there is plenty of reason for that. There is also plenty of opportunity to change perspectives, but not if we continue to be invisible to you.

After all, we’re all only human.