Citizen Cain

Simply put, he is foolish; I actually hope he stays in the race so it's a slam dunk for Obama. The reality, as clear as it is to me at least, is that he will not get the nod, and politically, I am fine with that. However, what I do view with caution, is this brazen political gamesmanship within the GOP. It is incredibly obvious, that all of these allegations of promiscuous behavior materialized, only when he was considered a viable contender for the nomination. Equally, these accusers, when a considerable ammout of time has passed, suddendly, they have this urgent need to come forward and tell their stories: why now? I'm not saying they did, or did not, take place, nor is it my place to take on that responsibility; what I am attempting to do, is make a critical observation. These women who elect to come forward, have very little to gain, and/or, loose. That said, those who are behind the scenes, who have access to these alleged trysts, providing the platform for these women to come share their stories, obviously have political motivations. What I find grossly disappointing are the latent or hidden messages linked to black sexuality. Overtly, there is Herman Cain who is campaigning as a candidate for the conservative right. One of their platform topics is this notion of strong family values. In the wake of these allegations, he plays sharply against that, and in turn, can be seen as a black sexual deviant who, like the other myths of black sexuality, represents the hyper-sexualized African-American man; akin to Spike Lee's "Nola Darling" [S]He's Gotta Have It. On the other hand, the women (the accusers) too are suspect. Again, strictly interpretation, but they now could possibly come across as "Jezebels," one white, one black. I don't think this could rise up to the level of the Hill/Thomas hearings; simply for the fact that I have yet to see anyone challenge the credibility of either accuser in a legitimized political forum. This leads me to conclude they, in essence, are being used (though they are complicit) as political torpedoes. The bottom line for me is, I, as one who doesn't agree with Cain politically, still prefer to make those assessments based on his political qualifications for the job. I think he deserves a better quality of attack. This is where I find fault w- the conservative GOP. Like I said, I do not support the GOP, the Tea Party, or the Conservative Right Wing, so please don't consider this an endorsemebt of any type. Consider it more as a plea. If they (the parties mentioned above) tout this moral rightousnesss, then they should start by practicing some, and cease with (the political parties listed above) these sensationalized assaults on this man's family. He deserves better, his family deserves better, and we the American public deserve better.

Oppressed becoming the oppressors

Countdown To Being A Citizen: Again.

Since I have started posting on Facebook and Twitter the quotes of me being a citizen again, it's funny the responses I have gotten from those who know me. My father, Priest was like, where are you, in jail? My aunt, Kathryn was no better, she was of the same notion. An old classmate, Dyson, he too was of the opinion that I had done some hard time.
The reality is that when you are poor and underemployed or unemployed, you are in a prison of sorts. You are effectively sequestered from the "American Dream." The anti-social politics of the experiment of democracy has in fact like Prince would say, has become Democrazy. The quest of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness is highly subjective. What that quest represents for me, which at present means paying my rent, having insurance for myself, some type of quality of life beyond having to beg to breathe, live, and eventually die another day (preferably one in the way distant future like 70 years off) would be drastically different from lets say someone born into Silver Spoons (yes that was a TV show indicative of the Reganomics 80s) or someone who in inherits poverty the same way some are born into privilege and wealth. When you are not an economic citizen in the United States in the 21st century, you instead are the socio economic American problem; at least to those who are in political and economic power. My experience is teaching me that no matter your educational status, if you don't have the money to pay your bills, you instead are subjected to a lower class status in our country. What is sad however is that our country, as "civilized" as we want it to be, has become cannibalistic in nature. The reason or desire to want to pay your bills, meet your obligations, whatever, doesn't mean a thing without a form of payment in hand. It's a cruel case of mind over matter. If you can't pay for X, then in the neo-conservative American formula of life, you simply don't matter. That's the cold bitter truth of the equation. If you don't have the money for the rent, you will be harassed, demeaned, and dehumanized, and subsequently problematized, possibly criminalized. Failure to have the money for your insurance be it health or car, categorizes you as a walking time bomb waiting to become an insurance company’s nightmare. There lies the problem. You have to be able to look for work. If you become ill or injured, you will rack up a plethora of bills. This in turn puts you so far back in the hole, that where you thought you’d reached the bottom, has now metaphorically become a financial bottomless pit. If you don't have health insurance, Michael Moore has shown us that you can, and will, be put out on to the street, regardless of the severity of your medical condition. For me, this has initiated a new level of compassion, I never thought I would have the capacity to demonstrate. That said, for me, this was where faith, logic, pragmatism, and quite honestly a chance to get even with the insurance companies, all converged, and I asserted a systemic moral right turn on the insurance companies. Having said that, the current class of politicians have shown us that if you don't have insurance, and cannot afford it, you really are not better off dead, but instead, to them, you should be put into a post industrial concentration camp: the military, or worse, prison. At least there you will get three meals a day, a health and dental plan, and of course, a roof over your head. Surprisingly, I’ve heard of strange tales in this economic climate. The stand out was the case of the $1.00 bandit. Here, an elderly man robbed a federal bank without a gun for a token $1.00 bill so that he could have a place to stay, food to eat, and at least get some type of health care. Yes, his liberty will be severely restricted, but never the less, he has forced the state to invest in him. And lets talk about this quality of life issue; because my quality of life, my prison, has not just impacted me, but also my son. There have been days when I feel we are cruising and then there have been days where I have said, he and he alone will eat, while I will just literally drink water and eat bread. Why, because my son is worth it. Still, there is nothing like going to bed with four different collectors on your mind. This is funny but still shockingly true. I would go to bed looking for the repo man to come at night to steal my truck, while wondering when the sheriff would come serve me with a set of eviction papers, while miricalizing (that’s praying to the Creator) for enough gas to make it to work so I could borrow money to make it through the next day. In a sick way, my financial imprisonment does in fact contribute to the economy. The question is which: the upper crust economy where the merchant is happy for my business, “Thank you for shopping at Crate and Barrel, we’ll have this delivered right away,” or the low brow class economy where the in articulate bill collector calls, or Larry, the cable guy, repossesses my car, while it is all televised on some crappy reality TV show. I mean seriously, when I think about the raced, gendered, and class politics of my prision, I really had to catch myself because I really saw the ugly in me creeping to the surface. When a woman called from the finance company threatening repossession of my truck if I did not pay the bill by X date, I began to challenge her. Through training and education, I could make some quasi-logical assumptions about the person’s ethnicity, gender, and class. In my mind I saw a heavy set, black woman, with limited education who was being paid to be mean in an attempt to extract money from me. Here’s how it happened:

Her,
Mr. Z I am calling about the 2005 x tr-re-ah.
Me,
I am he, and it’s called an x-tera.
Her
The reason I am calling is because you are showing 80 days past due. When it gets to this point, it’s only a day or so away from repossession.
Me,
Ok, I know that I owe, but repossession is a frightening word to me, I don’t have the money right now, I’m in the middle of a financial hardship/emergency.
Her,
Well why did you get behind?
Me,
I’d rather not go into that right now.
Her,
Well I’m just letting you know that repossession is possible.
Me,
You’ve said that, and I’m kindly requesting that we change the tone of the conversation. I know you have to get money from me, but you don’t have to berate me in the process.
Her,
How is telling you about repossession, which we can do, berating you. I don’t understand that. We are entitled to collect our collateral.



Me,
We? Our, collateral? The car is yours? With all due respect, I am going to pay for the car, but given the fact that I’ve already said that we are going through a real crisis, I need you to deescalate your collection efforts.
Her,
Mr.,
Me,
It’s actually doctor.
Her,
Well Mr.
Me,
No, I said doctor.
Her,
According to this contract, it says Mr., so I’m going to call you Mister.

Its’ at this point in the conversation where I really wanted to say, “Bitch (which is not nice, but then what follows ain’t exactly squeaky clean either), let’s keep it simple, because right now, there is a shortage of intelligence, so I am going to help you today. You are a fat-ass gorilla with a limited education who has been given a scrip, why? Because your handlers believe you lack any analytical ability. You are in an incubus of infection, working eight hours a day, being paid bananas to play a stereotypical sapphire, I get that. You have to eat, you have to feed your child. I get it. But were it not for this fucked up economy, and I were paying my bills in a timely way, you wouldn’t have a purpose for your company, you proudly represent. Your function for them, it would cease to exist. Lets do the math, as you work eight hours a day, and make maybe $11.00 per hour; I work only 4 hours a day making 45K per year, with holidays and weekends off, plus benefits, and I have upward mobility. That’s why I am called Doctor, and your stupid, fat, functionally-illiterate, bitch ass, will respect it!” Now of course I didn’t say that, but I felt it coming up, which is why I elected to disengage because even then, I know, that’s not where she wants to be, but it is, where she is, and if she had the opportunities and chances I had, there is a possibility she wouldn’t be there. This brings me to the last point: the mis-education of the African American little boy.

For me, right now, because I know the equalizing power of education, I am wondering if I will have the money to pay for my son's daycare that I know he needs so that he can have better life opportunities. If I don't do that, then he is subject to the public school system which I know for fact is drastically different from private schools. Public schools simply lack the sensitivity, the communicative skills, and the ability to engage African American boys. Instead, the school systems are taught how to problematize and criminalize them and to be blunt, I don't have the interest nor the time to continuously go to his school and play the role of the atypical African American parent who code switches, puts folks in check and on notice all the damn time. If I have to do that, then I need to home school. But again the quality of life when you are economically exiled to the island of the financially misfit, is nothing more than cruel and unusual punishment. Will you make it through the end of the day? Will you make it through the end of the week, Will you make it through the end of the month? If you don't, one of three things can happen: You could be dead.. You could be clinically mad... You could be in prison. But the reality is that while you are unemployed, underemployed, and/or in debt, you are socially disenfranchised and estranged from citizen in this country. You are in a sociological prison, some-days self-imposed, most days, societal; but you are still in prison. There is no time for good behavior; no time served. You are the prisoner.

Pseudo Science

This is one of those times I am just thrown. I mean I am completely beside myself. I just read this damn stupid article (I can be objective, but that objectivity is for things which make sense). Here is my response but first here is the damn story in Psychology Today

http://freedomlovejustice.com/


Greetings,
I am offended. I am grossly offended by the lack of editorial judgement to allow such filth to strike your pages. Having read the Kanazawa article, having come from an African American mother, I felt as though she, in addition to other women of African origin have been insulted. The science is the same type of science used to establish and reinforce the social constructions of race and the Eurocentric ideals of "beauty." The decision to print it, as it is your first amendment right, represents high levels of raced and gendered insensitivity. Racism and misogyny, in my opinion, represent psychological illness though they are not listed in the DMSR IV. I am shocked and saddened that a reputable magazine such as yours has succumbed to this raced and gendered debasement of African and African-American women.


Sincerely,

W. Russell Robinson, Ph.D.

You Don't Mess With A Lifeline

The older I get, either I am becoming more jaded or apathetic to the class structure we have in America. Here in North Carolina from what I understand the unemployment rate dipped to a level to where extended benefits would have to be terminated. In some instances that's good. However, if you are still among the long-term unemployed, then that's not so good. In theory this means the last check for you will come this week. However, the republican controlled house and senate have said they would make a bill to extend the benefits for 20 weeks under the proviso that the current governor reduces her proposed budget package. Frankly, I dont know what the budget proposal would be, and I don't know if I'd want to know in comparison to if I were going to continue keep my lights on, gas in my car (which incidentally is $4.00 per gallon) or making my health insurance payments. The politicians are really playing political games with the middle to lower class lifeline. I think this is why I cannot stand politics and politicians. You have the 10% (the social/economic elite) making decisions for the other 90%. To me, it represents the politics of disconnectedness. If the folks are so inclined to do the right thing, you do the right thing, no strings attached. You do the right thing because it is the morally and just decision to make for the greater good. I don't see that happening. I don't see it happening in DC, I don't see it happening in NC. The current social climate of the country is that we are a nation on edge. We live in a country where those on edge, are going over the side, in some cases willfully. I never thought I would live in a world where a congresswoman would get shot on a street corner, a mother would kill herself and her babies because of economic anxiety, or a military psychiatrist would go on a shooting rampage on a military base. This is scary and the folks we elected, to be our country's custodians either dont know or choose not to know how to fix the problems. Aloofly, the American political process is white, and aloofly, its stepping on it's citizens lifeline.

Poor Southern Whites

Being young gifted and Black still does not trump poor southern whites. This morning I had to address a legal matter and at the risk of being honest, I am quite dissatisfied with how the structures we call the legal system and municipalities function. I've been working on the same problem now for a month and it has hit emergency levels twice. In both instances I have been left fuming. When I informed the police, twice I have an attorney but they are not accessible, their reaction is wait until she is. You see the from what I understand, law is reactive, not pro-active. So in essence someone (preferably a white female) needs to be killed so that laws can be magically created to prevent it from happening again. So when as an African American need the laws to work for me, I get the Negro Treatment. Case and point. Back to my situation, I am trying to talk to my lawyer, but instead, I get the pa. As I said, I just came from a pretty harrowing experience on Friday and low and behold I'm not too happy. It showed and the pa could detect it. The words that set me "don't get snippy with me." Snippy. I had to catch myself during this episode I've had some southern, low to middle class, prune face Caucasian woman try to check me within the context of this problem. Last Monday it happened twice: today, a third time. Like I said before, were I the same person I am today, just White, this treatment would be non existent. I understand, let's get someone to look into that for you right away, you are covered. However, when I attempt to assert my anxiety and dissatisfaction I am pretty much told, negro, mind your place, your problems aren't that serious. I think what added insult to injury was the minimalistic cavalier approach to quell my concern as though my life, my time, my issues are minimal. Again mind you, in the court system or at least regarding my case, the pa network appears to be comprised of this particular demographic. I think sincerely that may be a large part of the disingenuous treatment I'm on the receiving end of. Mind you this is a personal theory which has yet to be scientifically tested. Being a Black man down south is hard. Being me, my world right now, no contest, I think the Black man in the south has got the leg up on me today.

Recovery Update

Its been a few months since I can honestly say that I have had a relapse. Emotional relapses are costly. Don't get me wrong; there are times I get angry, but the positive side to anger is that it's normal to be angry. Now when I am angry, like last week with the loss of my iPhone, did I go ballistic? Certainly not, it's just chalked up as a loss and learning experiences as what to and what not to do regarding the security of my pocket electronics. One thing I have done is take up the interest in Olympic weightlifting. Unequivocally, this transition has taken some physical tolls on my body. The stress I was under can easily contribute to higher levels of cholesterol and simply put, that's not good. When faced with emotional upheaval some folks turn to food. Me, I am the exact opposite; I just will not eat. I will withdraw and uncharacteristic to the African American male cool pose stereotype, I will bawl and cry in the floor. So here's what happened: in December 2009, I was in the floor bawling. January 2010, sobbing. February 2010, sniffling. March 2010, weeping. April 2010, a tear would fall. During that time I went from 175 to 158. Yeah, crying mixed with not eating is a hell of a weight loss program, but I don't recommend it :-). During this time I was copping, though I had not fully accepted what had happened. For me, life represented a haze where I would just go through the motions. But as I did that I did find myself going back to my gym with some regularity. As I later found out, healthy exercise does wonders for the mind. The endorphins release a type of dopamine which in turn travel via the neural transmitters to areas of the brain. Among these areas are locations that regulate emotion. So in essence, the gym really worked out for me, I know, bad pun for me. I think by challenging myself physically and mentally has and does continue to enable me to visualize success. No I am not going to get 1000 pounds over my head, though I have leg presses 1080 pounds, doing something like that, pushing my body to limits I didnt know it had really translates into new found self confidence. From the physical accomplishments, for me at least, they extend into academic, social, spiritual, and parental gold stars. As with anyone, I had and still negotiate the politics of self esteem. I am very self conscious about my image. I mean literally, my face I've always thought needed tweaking. My body image, I can work on that. Those things I can work on but the sting of rejection never really goes away, it just gets layered, if you are lucky. In my case, you would think I have a strong foundation but I don't. I am just a fragile regarding my emotions as anyone else. It just so happens when you turn 40, you become certified to tell people what you really think and the consequences become more or less a moot point. In my case, relapses turn into days of recovery. From recovery comes reinvention.

Testing blogger plus

This is a test of blogger plus

Was I a militant

What a dumb question to ask myself. Was I a radical? Again, a dumb question to ask myself. Its ironic that I find myself asking these question on MLK day 2011. But as I sit back and think about my previous MLK day experiences, I am left with a resounding YES. I go back to my NCSSM years, possibly my most embryonic years with being racially conscious and I don't think any of the moves I made there were any less different than Dr. King. I remember on one particular celebration, I made a speech where I challenged the dynamics of color and how color plays such a role in our society. How we have this association with all things white being good and all things not white being bad. When I made this association with the White House, students lost their damn minds. But that was the tip of the iceberg. Looking on my Iphone at the various MLK day celebrations of life and opportunities for service, I saw that NCSSM had again touted their MLK day celebration in the news paper. Curious, I looked and really didn't see any activities planned. Thinking back at my tenure there as the staff council president, I was left asking myself how effective was I as the staff council liaison to the NCSSM Board. In a hypothetical press conference, I found myself addressing my performance 10 years later by saying, some folks would say I single handedly crashed the NCSSM staff council. On the other hand, some folks would say that I was Quixotic, meaning there was not a fight I wouldn't back away from. The middle for me was this, I represented the people who elected me while at the same time, taking no shit from anyone. Now of course this is not the language of King, nor Malcolm X. It's a bit of a post modern neo soul radical who was the son of Shaft and Coffey who's favorite uncle was SuperFly. How do I begin to qualify this? There were numerous experiences which forced me to learn how the North Carolina Office of State Personnel System worked. Some were opportunities while some were just straight up land mines. In either case, I was thrust into a system that really treated workers like property and less like human beings. If you were African American, the system I worked in was pretty much like indentured servitude with unrealistic expectations, or at least they were in my case. I was unfairly disciplined, under equipped with resources, and was subjected to second class citizenry. In other words, I felt to a great degree my tenure at NCSSM under my immediate supervisor was that of Nigger. I've always said this. You don't have to say the word, but actions breath life into the word's personification. That's how I felt. Having said that, I worked hard to allow my body of work there to be antithetical while at the same time, trying desperately to maintain some sense of cultural and raced identity. Beyond the theory, I flash forward to when I was elected the Staff Council president/chairperson. For some, this was their dream while a nightmare to others. In my first three months, I managed to placed in the cross hairs of being fired. (No pun intended) By the age of 33 I grew tired of being treated as the Kafir Boy, particularly by my immediate supervisor. Many folks were saying to me, look Russell, this is the way things are. My internal reaction was, fuck that shit. You are White, so naturally it's easy for you to say that. You're not oppressed by your supervisor, let alone by society. However, recognizing the politics of diplomacy, I stated, I beg to disagree and kept it moving. Doing some sidebar research, I found that even the sate of NC concurred that African American males were begin treated disparately. Well as from provisos entries, I was suspended after pretty much saying to my superiors, you are not going to treat me this way. As the story goes, I suffered a panic attack which escalated into a full blown nervous breakdown. Taking a three month leave of absence, I had to collect myself and decide who was I? Did I want to take my episode lying down. After some consultation with my therapist, I went back to work, no change of supervisor, no type of accommodation made by the institution. In short, I elected to go back to hell. However, I couldn't change the people who were oppressing me, so I had to change my responses. From a strategic standpoint, many folk, particularly my supervisor, knew I was still emotionally fragile. In fact, this was capitalized upon. Taking a hyper aggressive stance, my supervisor took it upon themselves to continue harassing me. It all came to a head one day when she snatched a piece of paper out of my hand. This represented one of those moments of truths. Do I leave the building in tears never to return or do I smack the teeth out of her mouth? See one of those two things in her mind was supposed to happen. Realizing this was a trap, I left the building and promptly made my way to the city magistrate's office and took out a warrant for her arrest for simple assault. I had a two track playing in my head.. The first track was, man are you sure you want to do this? The other track was saying light the bitch up by any and all means. I apparently wasn't too phased because my fiance and I had a martini and I smoked a cigar later that evening. Of course, came repercussions. The next day, again a Martin Luther King day, I'm coming to the table of brotherhood with the Director of Human Resources, The Director of Campus Security, The Executive Vice President and I think one other person. It was me against Whiteness, I was the only brother there. Russell, one asked, tell us what happened. I think it was calculated arrogance mixed with Angela Basset when she is smoking a cigaret after setting a car on fire. She did this, I did that, and here we are. Of course here comes the question of why. Again, I am hearing the conflicting voices in my head. The passive voice is more timid where the other voice, well, I'm just happy that passivity won out. Simply put, I stated, you failed to address what I perceived as a threat to my mental health, because of your inability to act, I had to re-act with measures which protected my health first and foremost. On numerous occasions I stated there was a problem and you refused to listen on numerous occasions. Of course hindsight is a bitch isn't it, well we're listening now. Russell, is it true, you took out a warrant for her arrest? I have no reason to lie about that, in fact here is the paper, were I you, I would recommend you let her know as opposed to her being busted and taken away in police cuffs. (in the back of my mind, I am thinking, this is exactly what the heifer needs) Russell, what are we supposed to do with this? I don't know; I expect you to do as you have done in the past, nothing. That said, I went back to my office and I think someone told her to leave me the hell alone because she was a changed person. I think this is where I pretty much began the cycle of taking no more shit. In fact, in one of my staff council episodes, I remember having a meeting and asking the human resources director to leave. It was there at that meeting where I pretty much said that administration was making deals with under the table providing select departments with salary upgrades as opposed to following a system which was publicly agreed upon. Of course this pissed people off but it was the truth. I even had to place the vice president of operations in check I won't even say I was polite.. He tried to play the president of the institution against me, saying the president said I don't have to turn over public documents to you because he said you and he made a deal. Fed up I was like this; dude, you are either going to do it or not. I can't make you do anything. Just know if you don't, you're breaking the law, of which I am obligated as a custodian of the state of North Carolina to report. That and a stern letter from the ACLU, pretty much solidified my no BS policy.
Was I King, no.
Was I Malcolm, no.
Was I Harriet Tubman, no.
Was I Angela Davis, no
Was I militant and radical, yes. I guess I had some good teachers.

Openly, I am a little pissed today

The BlaquePhone Gen3 has been hijacked. BlaquePhone Gen3 aka my IPhone 4 got lifted today as was heading to teach a class. This stupid holster--the otterbox which did me right with BlaquePhone Gen2, aka Iphone 3G. I am going through cellular withdrawal. I never thought it would happen. But it did and I have to reviver. I was going buy an IPad as an early graduation present for myself but now I don't know. Maybe its all for the best. The Geek Gods have informed me that the IPad II will be coming out in March with the same camera front and back just like IPhone 4. So when you think about it, I'm kinda paying for it up front. I loved my IPhone, I am not even going to try to lie about it. Since they launched the face time app for the Mac, oh I have been imagining how I can use this for classes and virtual field trips. I mean man, I'll have it back tomorrow. So my positivity is short lived. Its a phone, not a bible.
Dissertation wise, I feel good. I am in Chapter 5 and have some made some headway. I hope to really put it to bed by Jan 20 so I can get ready for the pre-defense. I've got one job lined up already and I would love to have another offer for fall 2011. I love teaching at the university level and hope to continue to do that. I had a great class today with my newest Mass Comm students, though I think they are a bit intimidated. I had an excellent teacher whom I model myself after. He came to class, didn't open a book, just started spitting knowledge. That's who I wanted to be like when I was 20. Just come in with the knowledge in your head and know the theorist, and connect the applications with theoretical examples and the real world. That to me is a mark of an excellent teacher.. I hope I can come close not only in my ability to teach but also in my scholarship.
Well if I had my phone, I could say how many days I had until graduation--but I can can always count. The bottom line though is that there will be no graduation if this dissertation doesn't get completed.. so this weekend, back on my grind.!!!

Welcome to 2011

Man I am so happy to see 2010 go away. That's one year I hope not to see again. It was just too damn rough. So here is where I start the new years resolutions... whoever came up with that I will never know.

1) complete my degree-- I am starting chapter 5 the last chapter!!!!! of my dissertation.
2) drop 30 pounds... there i said it. I want to drop 30 pounds but I want it to be fat an not muscle.
3) get a tenure track job in north carolina as opposed to out of state.
4) start the path to buying a house..
4a) become more fiscally responsible
5) be an even better role model to my son
6) become more spiritually aware...
--
Enough resolutions, now its time to put the plan into action---