Miss MEW's Musings

Obama radiates an ethos of integrity, humanity, good manners and elegance that I’m beginning to miss, and that I suspect we will all miss a bit, regardless of who replaces him.

But a white actor in Hollywood with black children has a moral obligation to speak out publicly against an industry in which their kids do not see reflections of themselves. They are duty-bound on behalf of their children to work for change in an industry that overlooks, justifies and perpetuates the notion that whiteness and white talent, however extraordinary or mediocre, is more worthy of celebration.

I am trying to raise a free-spirited black daughter, one who will fully inhabit every room she enters without shrinking, recoiling or trying to will herself invisible at the approach of a bully, a charming boy or an abrasive authority figure. I am trying to raise her to believe she belongs anywhere she dares to venture, can pursue any safe activity she chooses, can twirl or belt out a song in public. I want her to believe she can take risks.  But I am acutely aware that “free-spirited” means something quite different for a low-income black family than it does for a middle- or upper-class white one. For us, it isn’t merely representative of whimsy. It’s a last resort. Freedom of spirit is the only liberty we can guarantee our children.

The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices, to be found only in the minds of men. For the record, prejudices can kill, and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all of its own, for the children and the children yet unborn. And the pity of it is that these things cannot be confined to the Twilight Zone.

It suggested that while the leopard cannot change all of its spots, changing one or two might not be out of the question. A lot of epiphanies don’t stick, but one that often does is the realization that other people are in just as much pain as we are at times, and that by reaching out, we momentarily heal ourselves as well as them. Once you’ve learned that lesson, you don’t forget it. It colors all the other problems that you continue to deal with, and suggests solutions to them. Whether you decide to pursue them is, of course, entirely up to you.

When nonviolence is preached as an attempt to evade the repercussions of political brutality, it betrays itself. When nonviolence begins halfway through the war with the aggressor calling time out, it exposes itself as a ruse. When nonviolence is preached by the representatives of the state, while the state doles out heaps of violence to its citizens, it reveals itself to be a con. And none of this can mean that rioting or violence is "correct" or "wise," any more than a forest fire can be "correct" or "wise." Wisdom isn't the point tonight. Disrespect is. In this case, disrespect for the hollow law and failed order that so regularly disrespects the community.

Perhaps the starkest description of the situation is this: More than one out of every six black men who today should be between 25 and 54 years old have disappeared from daily life.

Black art and entertainment shouldn’t exist solely to promote the most spotless representations of black people. The black experience is at its most unfiltered when white folks aren’t watching. We speak with a candor and honesty that is uniquely ours; we dance freely and divinely. No one tells you don’t say “ain’t” or “nann” and no one tells you not to shake your hips quite so loosely. Not when you’re free to be you, as opposed to being shackled by the respectability that racism has conditioned you to believe is your public uniform.

I can't help but think that the reason the rich and middle class find poverty so confounding is that they have that Hollywood version of poor people in mind: easygoing stoners and drunks with nice apartments and tons of free time, who have unlimited access to transportation and are held back only by an inability to make sound, long-term decisions. Why would you ever feel sorry for those people? Why would you ever help them? They should get off their asses and just go get a high-paying job writing greeting cards.