I've seen enough Tom Cruise movies to know what to expect with out even paying for them. It's pretty much the Carey Grant, in North by Northwest where he's on the run. With Tom Cruise, there is more physicality. The basic formula is this; one you have a good guy who demonstrates some heroic deed. Two; somebody has set him up. Three; he goes on some heroic quest to clear his name. Four, he finds justice some how and vindicates himself. Five, Tom Cruise goes on some media press tour to say, I've done a new film in new way. Don't believe me, go watch the following movies: the firm, the first Mission Impossible, Vanilla Sky and Minority Report. In at least three of these films the classic theme is "they set me up, they set me up." Pretty much that leads to my Tom Cruise moment. The difference is that Tom is white loaded with money and a life of fame where as I am black, loaded with debt and a new bitchy boss. It was the start of a new academic school year at SM. I know it's science and math, but more and more I see it as a plantation where the S and M mean slave and master. My grandfather is just recovering from his second cancer surgery, this time cancer of the esophagus. The relationship between me and Diane somehow took a nose dive and I am still trying to figure out why. My office mate, Barbra made it very clear, the honeymoon was over. So here I am, suddenly by myself running an audio visual department for a highschool without my partner, Robin, who was really instrumental in helping me get the job in the first place. Science and Math really was a place of premadonas. When I first got there, I was awe struck because from what was said to me from day one, NCSSM is not an ordinary place. Everyone was the best of the best. A top gun for high schools in North Carolina, spawning off nationwide extensions of itself. To be among them, I felt privileged. Of course this wore off once I realized that NCSSM was a smoke screen for overprivilaged white folks and folks with some degree of power. This to me was really made evident after my episode getting my boys off the chopping block. That episode really lulled me into the fantasy of truth, justice and the American way. That mantra worked for white folks and of course interplanetary aliens from Krypton. Us American everyday negros still had to settle for the hog malls of equality, fairness and democracy. My life was made rather interesting that fall and it all started with one laptop computer. My department LIT@COM was attempting lean itself more to information technologies and doing so we would loan technology based hardware. We acquired an IBM ThinkPad laptop for faculty to check out. Not a real problem except you have one laptop and 60 screaming faculty all who want the damn computer at the same time. Now remember, these are premadonas so nobody's need is more important than the individual who wants it at that particular point in time. Not a real problem because we have a circulation system and it's first come first serve unless the head white man in charge wants the computer and then, bang the world stops. The laptop must be found, re-acquired, and then given to the head white man in charge. The laptop was housed in my office. My office had two ways to get in, the hallway door, which I frequently used and the main library entrance which I really didn't care to use. Previously Diane began to have issues with the time I was coming to work. I lived in Garner, NC at the time and I would usually get to work at about 8:15 because Durham was two cities away and traffic in the morning wasn't the easiest thing in the world to navigate. Hence my 8:15 arrival. Additionally this was further impeded upon with my grandfather being sick in Chapel Hill. He was at UNC and we, the family, would alternate turns on when to go see him. One afternoon I told Diane that was going to visit my grandfather and I would be a little late getting in to work. I said to expect me in at about 9:30 to 9:45. She indicated that it wasn't a real problem. That same day, the laptop computer was in my possession and I placed it in my office in the cupboard where I normally had placed it before. OK, there is where you can start the Tom Cruise meter. The following morning, I arrive at work at 10:00 AM. Immediately I am summoned into Diane's office.
"What time is it?" she scolds,
"Ah 10:00, I realize I'm a little late."
She continues in like a circling shark,
"You said you would be here at 9:30." I am begging to get a little nervous because her tone is making me uneasy.
"I thought I said I would be her between 9:30 and 9:45. I'm 15 minutes on the outside of that, is that really a problem."
"I had five people come looking for you this morning, three of them said you had equipment reservations for them. I couldn't find what they needed and their classes were blown!"
"Diane, I don't remember any reservations with anybody. I'm sorry if you couldn’t find what you were looking for. What did they need?"
"It doesn't matter now, you were supposed to be here at 9:30! You weren't here!"
"Diane, I don't think I like you yelling at me like this, I made a mistake and"
"I'm not yelling! I am making a point. You said you would be here and you were not! People were looking for you and you were not here!"
"Diane," by this time the conversation had become heated to say the least, "My grandfather is sick, I told you yesterday I was going to visit him at UNC and I would be late. I'm sorry about what happened but I'm not going to stand here and let you yell at me about that, excuse me." and then I left. No real issue or so I thought. A few moments later she came back to where my office was and tried to offer an apology, but by then she could have been Jesus and I would have closed the door in her face-- no slam meant on the lord. About two hours later, she is in my office, looking over my shoulder at my computer. Not liking prying eyes, I cut the monitor off.
"What were you looking at on the computer?"
One of my famous faux pas, never let people know what's on your mind, especially if you haven't had time to censor it first.
"Today you have been acting a little off your rocker, what is wrong with you?"
"I would like to see what was on your computer!"
"Diane, it was nothing, absolutely nothing."
"Then why did you cut it off?!"
"Because I don't like people spying on me nor looking over my shoulder at my computer."
"You will cut that machine on right now and let me look at it mister." Freeze. This is where we have one of these Matrix moments. I have to stop the action and explain what is happening her for any white readers. In my mind, or any black person's mind for that matter this directive has just removed me from the category of human being to "sit ubo sit, good dog, woff woff." If you really want us folk to cooperate with you, this is the sure fire way to get the opposite effect; hence my point. The surge protector was located right under my toe and mysteriously it just flickered.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you correctly, did you just tell me what I was going to do or ask me?"
"I told you."
"Well I'm sorry, I'm not going to do that unless you ask me politely." Now admit, I have some damn nerve, talking to my supervisor this way but respect is on the line and I was told never start something you can't finish. In this case the inverse is true, never allow disrespect to start because then respect is much harder to gain. She hit her hand on the door.
"Fine, we'll just see what Dr. Warshaw has to say about this."
"Great!" I exclaimed, "I'll follow you." In my mind, everything was already accomplished, she didn't look at my computer and hell I felt I could speak my peace about all the shit that had been going on that day. Boy was I in for a rude awakening.
"Russell, you've got to respect Diane, she is your supervisor. Diane you are in charge, try to be nicer to your subordinates." Again on the way back to the office, another phony ass apology. Well, by the end of the day, something came up missing, the laptop computer. Where was it? How did this happen. Great, on the day that my boss and I have the day of days the laptop gets missing. This is weird… But I go and tell Diane.
"Missing, how did it get missing?"
"I don't know, it's gone. The doors were locked."
"Well you better find it."
Wonderful, I have a bitchy boss and a missing laptop that was locked in my office. This is all too coincidental. This was no theft per se but more so a walk in snatch and grab and specifically that item. Of course any detective work I would do would be looked at with skepticism. In fact our own resident Kojak showed up trying to sweat it out of me.
"It's kinda odd Russell, that laptop being locked in your office and now missing."
"It is odd isn't it, including your insinuation that I had something to do with it. Hell I gave up my own laptop computer case which I have now lost."
"I don't understand it Russell. It's going to be kind hard if we don't get that laptop back."
"I hope you find the person before I do because I will crack their back if I get to them first. I'm no thief"
This went on for the rest of the day until Diane called me in her office again.
"Russell, I'm going to ask you one more time about the laptop."
"Save your breath because I told you all that I know."
"I am going to look into a polygraph test and everyone is going to be asked to take it."
Freeze… This is were I learned from my previous mistake, I didn't say what was on my mind but I failed to mention anything about physical demonstration. No I didn't smack her-- but
"Ok, with that said, I'm going home good day." some how the door had a harder thud when I closed it. Like cliché, something fell.
"Did I do that, Oh well, I don't know my own strength."
This polygraph thing was just a little too much. When I told mom about it, well lets just say she was not too happy.
"What's the bitch's number, I'm calling her right now."
"Ma you can't do that!"
"No that bitch can't do that, she can't threaten you with some damn polygraph test, that shit is illegal."
"Ma please don't call her, please."
"No! Normally I don't interfere with your professional business, but this is one time I make the expectation. I am not calling as your mother, I am calling as a member of NAACP. Did she talk to anyone else about the lie detector."
" I don’t know."
"Give me that damn phone."
Next thing I know, my mother is on the phone calling my boss everything but a child of God and I have to see her tomorrow.
"Russell I'm sure you know your mother called me."
"I know and I am sorry about that, I tried to prevent that as best as I could."
"I wouldn't force you to take a test like that but we have to get that back."
"Diane, yesterday was a bad day. I am willing to move forward if you can, I'll do my best to keep my noes to the grind stone."
"OK" and I left.
There is a song by the temptations called smiling faces. Leaving that office, slowly the message of that song was resonating with me. A few days after the incident, I found out that no one in the office was informed of taking a polygraph test. Additionally there were numerous people on campus with a key to my office. The laptop had not been stolen, in fact I think some administrator may be typing away at it right now. In short, I was Tom Cruse; somebody set me up. The who was pretty clear, the why was what remained. In the days that followed new locks were issued were issued on my office. A 200 pound safe was acquired where the new laptop would be housed. Only library staff and I knew the combination and from now on I was ordered to come in the front door like everyone else. A temporary replacement was acquired to fill in for Robin but strangely he was not there for me, he was really there aid Diane also keep a watchful eye on me. Oh and by this point, I was given something new in my personnel file, a written warning for poor job performance. Like they said, smiling faces
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
My NCSSM Paycheck Crisis or Never F--k w-a Black Man and his Money
The month was April and the year was 1998. I got a call from Dr. Warshaw's sectary to meet her in the smoking section. This was kinda odd but followed up because something felt ill. I just couldn't put my mind on it. There she was, doing her puffing bit.
"Ok Belinda, what's up?" she took a drag and was like
"You know I saw something that you might be insterested in. I saw that Steve had a meeting scheduled with you and Diane for this Friday." I am like why, well I do know that Diane has had some issues but at the same time, her issues are like flakey at best. Being young and somewhat arrogant, I was a bit standoffish.
"Thanks for the information. But two things before I go any further. Why are you telling me this and what is the meeting supposed to be about?" She was cool about it. She respected me for asking the questions. Her logic was pretty straight forward. She realized that after I put my neck out for the boys, well, it was only a matter of time before my head saw the chopping block. This might be the time to watch my back. As for the contents of the meeting, she simply didn't know. -- This pretty much goes into Russell's Rules. Before you go into any meeting, make sure you know the purpose of the meeting. Of course I had to learn this lesson the hard way.
Friday morning, I walked into my office. Something told me that I needed to be dresed in slacks and be ready for anything. Thank God for intuition. This Friday morning, the students were gone and it was the last day of spring break. At 10:00, I went to see Diane, and sure enough, there was Steve, her direct supervisor. Ok I thought to myself, this is going to be intersting. Diane started by going to the door and closing it.
"Russell, the reason I have called you here is because I have a series of performance issues that need to be brought to your attention." I thought to myself, and suddendly the thoughts became verbalized.
"If that's the case, why is Steve here?
"Dr, Warshaw is a witness."
"Witness, why do we need a witness?"
Then Steve chimed in,
"Russell, why don't you let Diane finish."
Being quieted, I did. She proceded to let me know that there were a series of work performance issues that she was concerned with that apparently had jepordized the resources of the department. After going through a list of aproximately 8 items, I was left feeling pretty low.
Fractured, I really was at a loss for words. The obvious thing I did was to try to refute everything, even the things that had some sembelance of validity. Of course this didn't work in my favor.
"See Russell, it's that type of attitude. You're not taking accountability for anything." said Steve. In the back of my mind I am calling him everything but a child of God. You baldheaded mindless prick, I thought, you barely come down here, how the fuck would you know what goes on? Thinking that and saying that are two different things. If thoughts could be read, I proably would have been arrested. That said I was on shakey ground and chose my words carefully.
"Let's get to the bottom line, are you trying to say I am fired?"
Diane responed as she was reading from a script.
"At this time I am not prepared to answer that question." then Steve lowered the boom.
"Russell what we would like to do is give you some time to think about if this job is a good fit for you." At this time I was handed a letter which thorouglly documented all my faults along with another sheet stating I was suspended for two weeks without pay.
Dumbfounded, "this is a favor?"
"Russell, you gave us no choice." At this time, I had a new found respect for the pharse, no vasilne. I was asked to turn over all keys to Diane and calmly walked out the door.
What had just happened? I was completely flooded but yet somehow I went on autopilot. My paycheck was about to be cut, and that was something I just simply couldn't allow, especially with a car note and a rent payment hanging over my head. Within 45 minutes I found myself at the North Carolina Office of State Personnel. Again in the elevator I am like what the fuck just happened to me? I enter the office of Freda Wells, an HR associate who works with people in disciplinary problems with NC state govemrment.
"Ms. Wells, I don't understand it. I walked into her office for a regular meeting and the next thing I know I suspended without pay."
"Wait a minute Mr. Robinson. You just walked into an office and they suspended you on the spot without any notice. They can't do that."
I didn't understand. Ms. Wells explained to me the basics of due process. By the state perosnnel definiton, what happed to me was a prediciplinary conference. A predicplinary conference offers an opprotuntiy for the employee to address concerns before any discipline is issued. By NCSSM- Diane in particular giving me a note that says I am suspended on the same day of the disciplinary conference meant they were pre-disposed to anything I had to say. In short, I walked into a situation I was not supposed to win.
"Ok, with that said what do I do?"
"What would you like to do Mr. Robinson?"
"I'm sorry I don't understand."
"Mr. Robinson, what they have given you is a two week vacation with pay. This simply cannot stand as it was not done aboveboard. You have the option of alerting them to this fact and returning to work immeidalty or you may take the time to look for a new job or take a vacation." With the law behind me and my job quasi safe, somehow this vacation, didn't seem like I had won the lottery. What do I do for two weeks? Do I even tell people I got suspended for two weeks. This was a tuffy.
I told my roomate what happened.
"Damn, that's foul. But at least you get paid, I wouldn't sweat it. Chill. Sleep in late, watch the satelite tv."
For some reason, this just didn't seem right. These bastards have tried to railroad me and did a pretty damn good job of putting me on the tracks. If I only kept my mouth shut and had not testified for those boys, I'd proably be sitting pretty at the moment. Of course, I failded to adhere to the golden rule, a still tounge makes a happy life. Me and my big ass mouth. Like it said in my yearbook, Russell, you're a smart guy, just don't let your mouth get you into trouble. From my point of view, if this wasn't trouble, it was a pretty good damn simulation.
Not knowing any better I sent some letters to a few people. I started with our HR director. In short I basically siad, the suspension was fradulent, I plan to protest, do not under any circumstances fuck with my money. The arrogance of folk in power of course allowed her to say, we did nothing wrong, everything was by the book and that is that. So to even stir the pot further, I walked in to Diane's office, on purpose while she was in a meeting.
"Russell I'm in a meeting and you are suspended."
"I'm sorry to interupt your meeting as I am sure you too are quite sorry. This is simply to let you know of my immdaite plans." it was the closest I could come to slapping her.
Again she too stated, everything was aboveboard. Since they liked to deliver bad news on fridays, I figured I would return the favor by sending the note coming OSP infroming them of their grave error.
A few days later a greivance committee was put together and Diane returned with my keys.
"thank you Diane, now about my paycheck."
"that really was Steve's idea, I mean we had to get to you somehow. I mean we really didn't want to do."
"I'm greatful, I'll see you at the grevience hearing."
Leaving this, I was like my God, only because of their ignorance, is my paycheck safe. The next time I may not be so lucky.
"Ok Belinda, what's up?" she took a drag and was like
"You know I saw something that you might be insterested in. I saw that Steve had a meeting scheduled with you and Diane for this Friday." I am like why, well I do know that Diane has had some issues but at the same time, her issues are like flakey at best. Being young and somewhat arrogant, I was a bit standoffish.
"Thanks for the information. But two things before I go any further. Why are you telling me this and what is the meeting supposed to be about?" She was cool about it. She respected me for asking the questions. Her logic was pretty straight forward. She realized that after I put my neck out for the boys, well, it was only a matter of time before my head saw the chopping block. This might be the time to watch my back. As for the contents of the meeting, she simply didn't know. -- This pretty much goes into Russell's Rules. Before you go into any meeting, make sure you know the purpose of the meeting. Of course I had to learn this lesson the hard way.
Friday morning, I walked into my office. Something told me that I needed to be dresed in slacks and be ready for anything. Thank God for intuition. This Friday morning, the students were gone and it was the last day of spring break. At 10:00, I went to see Diane, and sure enough, there was Steve, her direct supervisor. Ok I thought to myself, this is going to be intersting. Diane started by going to the door and closing it.
"Russell, the reason I have called you here is because I have a series of performance issues that need to be brought to your attention." I thought to myself, and suddendly the thoughts became verbalized.
"If that's the case, why is Steve here?
"Dr, Warshaw is a witness."
"Witness, why do we need a witness?"
Then Steve chimed in,
"Russell, why don't you let Diane finish."
Being quieted, I did. She proceded to let me know that there were a series of work performance issues that she was concerned with that apparently had jepordized the resources of the department. After going through a list of aproximately 8 items, I was left feeling pretty low.
Fractured, I really was at a loss for words. The obvious thing I did was to try to refute everything, even the things that had some sembelance of validity. Of course this didn't work in my favor.
"See Russell, it's that type of attitude. You're not taking accountability for anything." said Steve. In the back of my mind I am calling him everything but a child of God. You baldheaded mindless prick, I thought, you barely come down here, how the fuck would you know what goes on? Thinking that and saying that are two different things. If thoughts could be read, I proably would have been arrested. That said I was on shakey ground and chose my words carefully.
"Let's get to the bottom line, are you trying to say I am fired?"
Diane responed as she was reading from a script.
"At this time I am not prepared to answer that question." then Steve lowered the boom.
"Russell what we would like to do is give you some time to think about if this job is a good fit for you." At this time I was handed a letter which thorouglly documented all my faults along with another sheet stating I was suspended for two weeks without pay.
Dumbfounded, "this is a favor?"
"Russell, you gave us no choice." At this time, I had a new found respect for the pharse, no vasilne. I was asked to turn over all keys to Diane and calmly walked out the door.
What had just happened? I was completely flooded but yet somehow I went on autopilot. My paycheck was about to be cut, and that was something I just simply couldn't allow, especially with a car note and a rent payment hanging over my head. Within 45 minutes I found myself at the North Carolina Office of State Personnel. Again in the elevator I am like what the fuck just happened to me? I enter the office of Freda Wells, an HR associate who works with people in disciplinary problems with NC state govemrment.
"Ms. Wells, I don't understand it. I walked into her office for a regular meeting and the next thing I know I suspended without pay."
"Wait a minute Mr. Robinson. You just walked into an office and they suspended you on the spot without any notice. They can't do that."
I didn't understand. Ms. Wells explained to me the basics of due process. By the state perosnnel definiton, what happed to me was a prediciplinary conference. A predicplinary conference offers an opprotuntiy for the employee to address concerns before any discipline is issued. By NCSSM- Diane in particular giving me a note that says I am suspended on the same day of the disciplinary conference meant they were pre-disposed to anything I had to say. In short, I walked into a situation I was not supposed to win.
"Ok, with that said what do I do?"
"What would you like to do Mr. Robinson?"
"I'm sorry I don't understand."
"Mr. Robinson, what they have given you is a two week vacation with pay. This simply cannot stand as it was not done aboveboard. You have the option of alerting them to this fact and returning to work immeidalty or you may take the time to look for a new job or take a vacation." With the law behind me and my job quasi safe, somehow this vacation, didn't seem like I had won the lottery. What do I do for two weeks? Do I even tell people I got suspended for two weeks. This was a tuffy.
I told my roomate what happened.
"Damn, that's foul. But at least you get paid, I wouldn't sweat it. Chill. Sleep in late, watch the satelite tv."
For some reason, this just didn't seem right. These bastards have tried to railroad me and did a pretty damn good job of putting me on the tracks. If I only kept my mouth shut and had not testified for those boys, I'd proably be sitting pretty at the moment. Of course, I failded to adhere to the golden rule, a still tounge makes a happy life. Me and my big ass mouth. Like it said in my yearbook, Russell, you're a smart guy, just don't let your mouth get you into trouble. From my point of view, if this wasn't trouble, it was a pretty good damn simulation.
Not knowing any better I sent some letters to a few people. I started with our HR director. In short I basically siad, the suspension was fradulent, I plan to protest, do not under any circumstances fuck with my money. The arrogance of folk in power of course allowed her to say, we did nothing wrong, everything was by the book and that is that. So to even stir the pot further, I walked in to Diane's office, on purpose while she was in a meeting.
"Russell I'm in a meeting and you are suspended."
"I'm sorry to interupt your meeting as I am sure you too are quite sorry. This is simply to let you know of my immdaite plans." it was the closest I could come to slapping her.
Again she too stated, everything was aboveboard. Since they liked to deliver bad news on fridays, I figured I would return the favor by sending the note coming OSP infroming them of their grave error.
A few days later a greivance committee was put together and Diane returned with my keys.
"thank you Diane, now about my paycheck."
"that really was Steve's idea, I mean we had to get to you somehow. I mean we really didn't want to do."
"I'm greatful, I'll see you at the grevience hearing."
Leaving this, I was like my God, only because of their ignorance, is my paycheck safe. The next time I may not be so lucky.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Epiphanies on Whiteness
A local newspapr columnist raised this question about his point of view regarding the duke incident-- he wrote the following:
Am I a racist Uncle Tom?
Jun 4, 2006
The national media descended on Durham when the Duke lacrosse rape case broke and described a town that was racially divided.
It made me and other locals want to holler and throw up our hands, because there we were again, on that downward image spiral that makes Reyn Bowman's job at the Convention and Visitors Bureau so hard.
Granted, there are railroad tracks in Durham, but they don't separate the rich from the poor.
So we rejected what Geraldo Rivera and them were reporting. Durham, we retorted, is not stuck in the Jim Crow era, no outward racism around here.
Inward racism? Well ...
There was a time when some deemed brilliant my little comments about the Duke lacrosse case. That's when I was laying it on the accuser real thick, when I was saying the stripper hired by members of the lacrosse team had it coming, that rape -- while never deserved -- comes with the territory in a profession like hers.
Man, some black folks tore me up! They were appalled that I, as a black person, would speak out against the sister.
Well, that's how it was until I wrote the other day that the lacrosse players, too, bore some responsibility. I said we wouldn't even be having this discussion had they not decided to hire some strippers in the first place. So, I continued, even if the accuser is lying, the situation they find themselves in is self-inflicted.
My approval rating with white readers slipped faster than President Bush's with registered voters. And just like that, I became a racist, after that one column.
Hey, I'm a big boy. I can take the heat. No doubt, as I suggested pertaining to the Duke lacrosse case, I brought this on myself. You're as entitled to your opinion as I am to mine.
But let's at least agree on one thing -- that maybe the national media wasn't that far off base when describing Durham's racial divide. Not that we're at each other's throats, not outwardly.
Inwardly, though?
See, this isn't about me being able to take it as well as I can dish it. The hateful comments from white people came from somewhere deep within that caught my naïve self off guard.
Black people who've accused me of being an Uncle Tom sometimes ask if a white person has ever called me a nigger. I was proud to always tell them no.
But I can't say that anymore, not after that column. I was called a nigger and then some.
And it bolstered what I'd been told about how one day it'd happen to me, that sooner or later white folks would show their true colors and I'd then see the need to pick up not one but two chips -- one for each shoulder.
Listen, I love white people, black people, Chinese, folks from Iraq -- I just love people. Period.
So this episode won't make me lose hope.
But this much is true -- those nasty e-mails in my inbox came from as far away as El Segundo, Calif., and from Flushing, N.Y.
So if Durham, in fact, is racially divided, then apparently the rest of America hasn't embraced that divorce from Jim Crow, either.
John McCann's column appears Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Contact him at jmccann@heraldsun.com or 419-6601.
I had to reply internally with this
You know I didn't write this, but damn if it does not prove something. This guy is African American and a bit conservative for my tastes but I’ll damn if it doesn't prove something about being in the good graces of white folks. Now, I can't say all white folks but I can say that some of his white audience and possibly some of the black audience as well, they can easily turn on you like a dime. As he pointed out, while he was chastising the stripper saying, these are the risks go with the job, he was like Armstrong Williams. But then when he called the white boys on the carpet, well he fell out of their good graces suddenly becoming Malcolm X. It's like what Malcolm X said, "too black, too strong." Apparently, brother McCann became a brother on the run as he was a little too black when he stepped out of "his place" questioning and challenging white people—lets qualify this—white people with social status and money. What's sad is that people--a majority of white people, fail to recognize that. This ambivalence and most cases overt denial stuns me. [About to have a Dr. Phil moment here] In my opinion, individuals first need to recognize who they are within their immediate context. Who are you, what are you, what do you stand for, when you are stripped down raw, what is your foundation? Once done, this acceptance allows for some degree of cognizance and thus opens the door to, POSSIBLE change. Racism, like poverty, disease, and even wealth is acquired not exclusively by initial exposure but by more so inherited. If the conditions are manifested, conditioned, and socialized then there is a greater likelihood that these systems will rupture into a full blown malady. Not only is this country endemic of racism but, we really should consider it an epidemic. That said, on the other hand, if there is recognition at an early stage, then interventions can be installed to quell the full blown manifestation of the disease, possibly to its full remission. Racism, in my honest, best, and unqualified opinion must not only be classified as a medical psychological disorder, but furthermore must be seen as social stigma that must be rooted out. Racism to me represents a psychological illness feeding off of delusions of grandeur--almost like schizophrenia. It’s like a detachment from reality that through one's quest—now obsession to be human, they negate all things that are not human by their self definition. This negation extends itself into typologies or even racial taxonomies whereby one places themselves at the focal point of that particular hierarchy. For example, I know a dog is a dog by definition. With that same definition or classification, we are both mammals, but are we of the same species? No. Humans have their way of doing things, Canines have theirs. But then when we humans, these ethnocentric values that has been inscribed at every level, socially constructed and scientifically validated, we humans have been taught to believe that some of us aren't quite human enough; and therefore qualifying them for the level of the animal in some cases below the animal. This is delusional-a gross detachment from reality. It’s very much like that character in the film "A Beautiful Mind." "You're not real," was the recurring theme. Because you are not real, for sanity sake, I have to ignore you, I have to distance myself from you because if I have relationships with you, then I am among the not normals. If we take that same theory and apply it to race, at least in this country, then you have a whole lot of white folks chanting, "you're not real" to a lot of people. You're not real because, you're skin tone isn't like mine, you're not real because you are not of my sexual preference, you're not real because of your religious affiliation, you're not real because-- and you fill in the blank. What is bad (and that probably is a poor choice of words for this discussion) is that this is reinforced through our domestic and international policies, what we call cultural norms, how lies have been grossly enabled to infiltrate our individual belief systems, our psyches; all because there is this quest to be real. This personification of "being real," represents a power. Power of definition, power of acceptance, power of social self construction. This power must be defused from the small minority of those who enslave the majority.
Am I a racist Uncle Tom?
Jun 4, 2006
The national media descended on Durham when the Duke lacrosse rape case broke and described a town that was racially divided.
It made me and other locals want to holler and throw up our hands, because there we were again, on that downward image spiral that makes Reyn Bowman's job at the Convention and Visitors Bureau so hard.
Granted, there are railroad tracks in Durham, but they don't separate the rich from the poor.
So we rejected what Geraldo Rivera and them were reporting. Durham, we retorted, is not stuck in the Jim Crow era, no outward racism around here.
Inward racism? Well ...
There was a time when some deemed brilliant my little comments about the Duke lacrosse case. That's when I was laying it on the accuser real thick, when I was saying the stripper hired by members of the lacrosse team had it coming, that rape -- while never deserved -- comes with the territory in a profession like hers.
Man, some black folks tore me up! They were appalled that I, as a black person, would speak out against the sister.
Well, that's how it was until I wrote the other day that the lacrosse players, too, bore some responsibility. I said we wouldn't even be having this discussion had they not decided to hire some strippers in the first place. So, I continued, even if the accuser is lying, the situation they find themselves in is self-inflicted.
My approval rating with white readers slipped faster than President Bush's with registered voters. And just like that, I became a racist, after that one column.
Hey, I'm a big boy. I can take the heat. No doubt, as I suggested pertaining to the Duke lacrosse case, I brought this on myself. You're as entitled to your opinion as I am to mine.
But let's at least agree on one thing -- that maybe the national media wasn't that far off base when describing Durham's racial divide. Not that we're at each other's throats, not outwardly.
Inwardly, though?
See, this isn't about me being able to take it as well as I can dish it. The hateful comments from white people came from somewhere deep within that caught my naïve self off guard.
Black people who've accused me of being an Uncle Tom sometimes ask if a white person has ever called me a nigger. I was proud to always tell them no.
But I can't say that anymore, not after that column. I was called a nigger and then some.
And it bolstered what I'd been told about how one day it'd happen to me, that sooner or later white folks would show their true colors and I'd then see the need to pick up not one but two chips -- one for each shoulder.
Listen, I love white people, black people, Chinese, folks from Iraq -- I just love people. Period.
So this episode won't make me lose hope.
But this much is true -- those nasty e-mails in my inbox came from as far away as El Segundo, Calif., and from Flushing, N.Y.
So if Durham, in fact, is racially divided, then apparently the rest of America hasn't embraced that divorce from Jim Crow, either.
John McCann's column appears Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Contact him at jmccann@heraldsun.com or 419-6601.
I had to reply internally with this
You know I didn't write this, but damn if it does not prove something. This guy is African American and a bit conservative for my tastes but I’ll damn if it doesn't prove something about being in the good graces of white folks. Now, I can't say all white folks but I can say that some of his white audience and possibly some of the black audience as well, they can easily turn on you like a dime. As he pointed out, while he was chastising the stripper saying, these are the risks go with the job, he was like Armstrong Williams. But then when he called the white boys on the carpet, well he fell out of their good graces suddenly becoming Malcolm X. It's like what Malcolm X said, "too black, too strong." Apparently, brother McCann became a brother on the run as he was a little too black when he stepped out of "his place" questioning and challenging white people—lets qualify this—white people with social status and money. What's sad is that people--a majority of white people, fail to recognize that. This ambivalence and most cases overt denial stuns me. [About to have a Dr. Phil moment here] In my opinion, individuals first need to recognize who they are within their immediate context. Who are you, what are you, what do you stand for, when you are stripped down raw, what is your foundation? Once done, this acceptance allows for some degree of cognizance and thus opens the door to, POSSIBLE change. Racism, like poverty, disease, and even wealth is acquired not exclusively by initial exposure but by more so inherited. If the conditions are manifested, conditioned, and socialized then there is a greater likelihood that these systems will rupture into a full blown malady. Not only is this country endemic of racism but, we really should consider it an epidemic. That said, on the other hand, if there is recognition at an early stage, then interventions can be installed to quell the full blown manifestation of the disease, possibly to its full remission. Racism, in my honest, best, and unqualified opinion must not only be classified as a medical psychological disorder, but furthermore must be seen as social stigma that must be rooted out. Racism to me represents a psychological illness feeding off of delusions of grandeur--almost like schizophrenia. It’s like a detachment from reality that through one's quest—now obsession to be human, they negate all things that are not human by their self definition. This negation extends itself into typologies or even racial taxonomies whereby one places themselves at the focal point of that particular hierarchy. For example, I know a dog is a dog by definition. With that same definition or classification, we are both mammals, but are we of the same species? No. Humans have their way of doing things, Canines have theirs. But then when we humans, these ethnocentric values that has been inscribed at every level, socially constructed and scientifically validated, we humans have been taught to believe that some of us aren't quite human enough; and therefore qualifying them for the level of the animal in some cases below the animal. This is delusional-a gross detachment from reality. It’s very much like that character in the film "A Beautiful Mind." "You're not real," was the recurring theme. Because you are not real, for sanity sake, I have to ignore you, I have to distance myself from you because if I have relationships with you, then I am among the not normals. If we take that same theory and apply it to race, at least in this country, then you have a whole lot of white folks chanting, "you're not real" to a lot of people. You're not real because, you're skin tone isn't like mine, you're not real because you are not of my sexual preference, you're not real because of your religious affiliation, you're not real because-- and you fill in the blank. What is bad (and that probably is a poor choice of words for this discussion) is that this is reinforced through our domestic and international policies, what we call cultural norms, how lies have been grossly enabled to infiltrate our individual belief systems, our psyches; all because there is this quest to be real. This personification of "being real," represents a power. Power of definition, power of acceptance, power of social self construction. This power must be defused from the small minority of those who enslave the majority.
Comments on the Duke 44
orginally published June 3rd 2006 Durham Herald-Sun
Reading John McCann's column asking if the 44 other lacrosse players can go back to "normal," I have to respond with a witticism from my late grandfather about the "the devil's advocate." He'd say, "de devil don't need no advocate," and, in this case, I strongly agree.
Further, this issue of "normal" begs definition. What is "normal" and who has the luxury of defining what is "normal" within this society? Does it mean returning to a life of white male privilege with impunity? If so, never let their lives be normal again.
This pseudo/macho "Tom Cruise/Clint Eastwood" emblem of normal must go with all deliberate speed. Could it be that the "Duke 44" now must wear the scarlet letter linking them to an episode so disgustingly vile that it would make their grandmothers cry? Or does it mean that the "Duke 44" now and forever shall be presumed guilty before they are proven innocent? In a word, yes. Is this a bad thing? Maybe. Did I write the rules to this game? No.
However, this is in fact what American justice looks like -- the American Express race card, where membership has its privileges. No professor at Duke or N.C. Central could teach them this valuable lesson in critical and arguably critical race theory. The lesson is what it is like to be among the marginalized, the "not normals," in short, the stigmatized. Welcome to my world.
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