Last week, I had the pleasure of being on NPR’s Tell Me More with host Michel Martin to discuss the Vibe Article, “The Mean Girls of Morehouse.” The conversation was really interesting as we were joined by Aliya S. King, the author of the controversial piece, and Brian Alston, one of the students profiled in the article. The article’s publication has caused a firestorm that has raised some important challenges to our community around masculinity, sexuality, and race. Take a listen to the piece here.

For some evidence of the percolated conversations, check out this clip of brothers on the yard discussing the article and the greater community.

If you cannot see the video, please click here.

Recently, I had the pleasure of appearing on “Our World with Black Enterprise” hosted by Marc Lamont Hill. The show hosted a panel discussion on education reform with me, David C. Banks – CEO of the Eagle Academy Foundation, and Keli Goff – Political Contributor on the Loop21.com. The conversation was a good start to seriously engaging the issues facing our schools, particularly Black boys. Check out the panel below and make sure to check out future episodes of Our World, which is covering some cutting edge topics.

If you cannot see the video, click here.

For the past few years, I have been diligently working on issues of inequality in well-resourced school settings. My book is coming along nicely, but I thought I’d share some of my insights with the public, well the non-academic public. As the nation turns its attention towards education, we cannot think that suburban spaces are more equal. While many of our families move to these cities for their reputation and resources, we are often locked out of these amenities. Check out my piece on theGrio.com about this.

The achievement gap. These three words have launched a million initiatives, all with the goal of closing the average differences in test scores between black and white students. While more and more people are getting in on education reform and more attention is being placed on it due to films like Waiting for Superman, we cannot make the mistake of thinking that black students who are not in the inner-city are safe from inequality. In fact, the gap in test scores between black and white youth in the suburbs is only slightly smaller than the urban and national gaps that we observe. As we turn out attention towards reforming education, we must think about inequality in the promised lands of suburbs.

Read more here.

This morning, another piece of my writing on education reform and “Waiting for Superman” was posted on theRoot.com. This is a lengthier discussion of the state of educational reform research and what we know. While I don’t cover the universe of education reform policies, I do cover six key ones: charter school success, money matters, evaluating teachers, teacher pay, paying students, and Promise Neighborhoods. I close out the piece with a discussion of solutions and food for thought around changing urban education. Check it out.

Education reform is a hot topic these days, thanks to the recent release of the much-hyped documentary, Waiting for Superman.  Directed by the same team that produced the award-winning An Inconvenient Truth, the documentary takes a hard look at the dilemma of American educational failure. Viewers get a heart-tugging tour de force of issues plaguing low performing American public schools. What viewers do not get, however, is an education on the realities that hamper real reform. The problems that our schools face are complex, but director Davis Guggenheim and crew tell viewers the solutions are simple and “we know what works.” While that’s a powerful statement, there is little research — or reality — to back up that claim.

The truth is, when it comes to implementing education reform, we don’t know for sure what works.

Read more here

This is my reflection on Ujima: Collective Work and Responsibility

For more than a year, I’ve entertained way too many conversations about the shortage of Black men and Black women who remain hopelessly single. I tend to avoid these conversations, because it seems little can come of them other than hurt feelings and finger pointing. Well while reflecting on Ujima, I wondered how the principle could help this discussion given my inbox and twitter feed was abuzz with a recent story on the “crisis” in the Black community. I am certain that the blame game that comes around from discussions of relationships nor is it something that is unique to Black folks. I however realize it can come into special relief when we begin to talk about the numbers of Black women and men that are not married or the number of “out-of-wedlock” births that we have. The “crisis” of the Black family is not new, the placing of blame on Black women is not new, blaming men is not new, but the repackaging of it continues to draw attention and the opposite of productive discussion, mainly it ends up being a new opportunity for us to sidestep personal work, overlook progress, and undermine community work.

The principle of Ujima asks that we all acknowledge our role in the current condition and collectively work to repair it, this seldom happens in the current discourse. The recent Washington Post profile of Helena Andrews and the Nightline segment on unmarried Black women have kept us consumed with chatter. The Nightline segment features a number of sisters talking about the dilemma of being single and successful and then they’re joined by relationship guru comedian (who is asked to speak on a serious social issue) Steve Harvey. Harvey offers some commentary on the women’s aesthetic beauty, says older men failed to socialize younger males, and then tells the sisters to date older men to fulfill what the story purports as “missing.” The story created quite a buzz and part of it, I’d say, is due to the way the piece is framed. The piece highlights an ever declining population of marriagable men and high achieving women, pitting men against women in a zero sum game which results in a decaying Black family. When I saw the piece I didn’t get bent out of shape about it and reach for a lighter to reignite the battle of the sexes,  instead I saw a more promising narrative on mate selection, accomplishment, and community. This was, in part, because I listened to the voices of the sisters, rather than the voice that framed the piece. If you listen to the women’s testimonies they articulate clear expectations, a desire to settle down, but not the desire to settle. Quite the opposite of what is popularly emphasized where sisters have unrealistic standards, are hungry to trap men, and emasculate the men in their lives. Their voices and stories, like so many that I’ve read or watched on the topic, get twisted and are used to suggest there is more space for discontent and disunity than for collective work and responsibility.

The reality, as I see it, is that the changing forms of family, gender, and community mandate that we not look at each other and assume we will replicate the systems of the past. This doesn’t mean a total disavowal of what we had, but it often means me must acknowledge what we used in the past may not work today. In order to begin collective work we have to agree upon a problem or set of problems, which I’m not sure we do. What if what one called a problem another saw as an evolution and a success? Too often we assume marriage is the bedrock for a strong community, however family is much more-so. And family, for African-Americans and people of African descent has been defined in many ways that clash the mythos of the nuclear family. Are we ready to begin the work of collective uplift be acknowledging we may not be all shooting at the same target of family? Are we ready to acknowledge the role that emotional scars hold for men and women in choosing partners? Are we ready to move beyond discussions of “baby mama” drama and enter the work of  co-parenting? These are some of the questions and topics I’d love to see tackled so that we may truly begin to see our brothers and sisters problems as our own, as well as, our brothers and sisters strengths as our own. From there we can begin to do the work of collective work and responsibility for the Black community.

This week, my dear friend Yusef Ramelize, took on the issue of homelessness. No, he didn’t decide to volunteer at a soup kitchen. No he didn’t decide to give out change to someone he saw as he was exiting the train. No he didn’t email his friends and tell them they should join a “homelessness sucks” cause on facebook. He decided to raise awareness about the issue of homelessness by getting first person experience. Yusef is going homeless for one week.

Yusef’s challenge to himself is paired with raising funds for the Coalition for the Homeless. His site contains all the information you could want to know and great personal reflections on the experience before he began the week. He will continue to update the site when he returns from his stay. I wanted to shout him out for taking action, learning, and pushing us all to contribute not just money but serious thoughts to one of the world’s most pressing issues. If you can, please do donate to the campaign. While he will only remain homeless until Saturday, most people do not have a choice in when they receive shelter again. So he will continue until May 1st or until he reaches his goal of 5000 dollars to donate. Please spread the word!!!!

“Support Black Business” this was my approach to the principle of Ujamaa for years, but I realized that supporting a business by someone who looks like me will likely get our people no closer to liberation. Okay, so maybe everyone isn’t going for liberation, but hear me out. The issue with simply thinking of Ujamaa as supporting Black business is that it 1) assumes Black people who own businesses are going to take their profits and reinvest in our community and 2) that capitalism is the only system for us to participate in. The first one is faulty for obvious reasons, if you need an example please see BET. The second point is one that folks tend to think I’m crazy for suggesting. We can have a system of trade that does not put financial capital at the center, but instead re-establishes the importance of exchange of goods that aren’t simply monetary and builds community.

What would our communities look like if we concentrated on contributing positively to each other lives, rather than concentrating on accruing financial capital? Basically, the desire to make money often takes precedent over our ability to contribute to each others well being. One of the consistent themes that I hear these days is “when I was growing up, we didn’t have much but we made due….” These types of narratives hinge on the idea that community has existed in the presence of few financial resources and may even be strengthened if we play our cards right. When we had little, we gave a lot to keep all our boats afloat. One of my favorite anthro books (don’t tell anyone) is All Our Kin by Carol Stack. It really outlines how cooperative economics need not hinge upon how much money you have or how much your neighbor has. As the financial crunch hits Black folks the hardest, we’d do well to think of economics beyond financial capital and work on social capital and cultural capital for the uplift of our community. After all, I know that kwanzaa credit card looked hot, but I doubt it will contribute to our collective transformation.

*Yes, I feel off the daily post wagon, but I’m going to finish out the principles of Kwanzaa because this is a year round thing, not seven days!

Over the past week, the media and everyone who could jump on the bandwagon of wagging fingers, frowned brows, and we told you so’s in relation to the Big Three has. While I don’t think all of these sentiments are misplaced, I wonder the most about the people of Detroit, not the Big 3. I’ll make a clear distinction here. The Big 3 being GM, Ford, and Chrysler represent the business interests of the automotive industry. The people of the Detroit Metro area are beneficiary’s and burden bearers of the Big Three’s ability to remain solvent and even profitable in these turbulent financial times. Pretty much we’ve come to the point that industry is realizing that we’re pretty far down the rabbit hole and major changes are going to come down the line. The thing that both scares, and maybe even reassures me a little, is that Detroit has been at the bottom before.

Detroit remains the classic example of the “failed city” the “dead city” the city that was forgotten. Well, while the economics, politics, and social organization of Detroit has been on decline for years, the people and their commitment to change has not been. In many ways, the one thing that these stories don’t talk about are the people in Detroit who despite increasing layoffs, increasing segregation, asset sucking casinos and odds that increasingly mount against them, continue to fight to build a better Detroit.

There is a boatload of critical work happening in education there. There is the push for viable public transportation. There is the movement to slow the “invisible hand” of foreclosures. There is work on urban space and converting brown fields. There is a vibrant arts scene. These people and these voices will remain invisible. Sure, their voices will never get as much press as the Big Three, but they demonstrate a resilience that the rest of the nation is going to have to come to grips with really soon. The age of watching industry fall in one area and not have it affect another is gone. Are fates have been intimately linked and we’ll see these connections with even greater consequence during this financial debacle.

The way people from Detroit tend to get mentioned in these discussions is if they are sitting around getting fat off of union pensions and benefits. If you’ve been to Detroit, lived in Detroit, or know folks who have worked for years for the Big Three, it’s simply not the truth. As we watch the Big Three scramble for assistance, be sure to watch who gets thrown under the bus first. Is it the 20,000 dollar jets or the family that lives on 30,000 a year?

If you aren’t accustomed to clicking links on the side of this page, I hope this will help. This is a videoblog by Jay Smooth, long time Hip-Hop head and host on his blog illdoctrine.com. Jay in mid August posted a guide to “no homo“, he really comes with it… [not gonna say it Jay!]

I am linking to a post by Jafari Sinclaire Allen about Morehouse, sexuality, and community. Jafari was before my time at Morehouse, but he lays out some heavy, powerful, and challenging issues in his post about his time at Morehouse, Atlanta, and beyond. Please, please, please … did I mention please, give it a read. It eloquently displays many of the questions that plagued me about the brotherhood at Morehouse, the larger Black community and the greater potential for social change. Brother Jafari, thank you for caring enough to share.

For those who don’t know, Morehouse is my alma mater and I hold her near and dear to my heart. I have always wished that Morehouse offered a freshman year course like Spelman College’s African Diaspora and the World, but one that focused on issues of gender privilege, sexuality, and leadership. Maybe we will get there someday… hopefully soon.

At about 1 in the morning I strolled along the main artery of Harlem, 125th street. As I walked from East to West I got to thinking about the transformation that Harlem is undergoing. Some call it gentrification, revitalization, land grab, urban pioneering, no matter what you call it, things are changing. When we talk about gentrification, we talk about those who have homes, but we forget those who go without consistent shelter.

As I passed the State building, I watched homeless citizens hover on concrete benches. As they lay resting, it almost looked like they were at perfect peace. Like the stone that was their pallet was made by Sealy mattresses, but that’s likely not true. As they lay huddled beneath Adam Clayton Powell with his top coat flapping in the wind, I began to wonder what he would have thought? Did he think about these Harlemites? I began to wonder, do today’s heroes of Harlem think about them?

The juxtaposition of the consummate Black political figure to the Black homeless was more than a sight. A sight would be too transient, too dissimive, too temporary. No, for the folks seeking refuge under ACP’s cape, poverty was not temporary or passing, it was their long term reality. As Harlem undergoes yet another Renaissance I wonder what is to come of the folks who never saw the booms of prosperity? The folks that didn’t have leases to be tricked out of. Are the stares that folks shoot them on 125th tonight the same as the stares that newcomers to Harlem will shoot them in 10 years? Or will they even be there?

My job as a professor really gives me a great opportunity to talk to folks about the sociology that we live through everyday. This past week in my Sociology of the African-American Experience we had some involved conversations about Black men, unemployment, and culture. We, like good sociologists, talked about the structural issues associated with getting ahead, the cultural dimensions of what it takes to keep jobs, and the ways employers view urban Black men. The conversation was maginificant, but when I asked students what could be done to shift Black men’s employment opportunities, it felt like all our suggestions were like tossing starfish into the ocean one by one. That however is not the biggest issues of when the sociological becomes personal, it is when we have to individually make sense of larger sociological problems like unemployment, etc.

This morning I was leaving the train station and watched a man struggle down the steps with a large suitcase. As he descended the stairs clumsily, I saw a man about 45 or so begin to descend next to him, but not heading down the stairs. As I watched, the second man reached his hand into the pocket of the man with the suitcase. For a minute the men were so close I thought, wait they must know each other. Then the man with the suitcase felt his hand and looked over and noticed it was a pickpocket attempt. Immediately the man with the suitcase was like, “Hey!” and took the other man’s hand out of his pocket. The guy who was attempting the pickpocket buzzed down the steps and tried to divert attention by yelling, “Don’t block the stairs again man!”

As an onlooker I had like ten things going through simultaneously.Here were a few, “what would I have done if it was my pocket?” I wondered, “Why didn’t you say anything?” “Should you call the cops?” “What good would calling the cops do?” When the issues of the world become personal, are we able to understand and contextualize behavior or do we go back to saying folks who do crime, etc. are just deviant? It’s too easy to dismiss the situation and suggest that the offender is just a bad apple. It’s also too simple to say that there are no jobs. In both cases, we know NOTHING about the life of the guy who attempted the pickpocket. But I think when things become personal, we too easily forget about the context that informs the behaviors folks employ to “make it.” In many conversations among friends and colleagues, over the years, I’ve heard folks provide context to all sorts of actions but when it came to their personal well being being threatened discussions began to sound like AM talk radio. When the sociological becomes personal, what is your first reaction… and your second?

Nas’ song has been burning through my head as of late. Could be the late nights, early morning, the travelling, the writing, but whatever it is, it’s in my head. The events of the past week with Don Imus really made me think about the traditions that we carry on or let go. After a week Imus has been dropped from TV and Radio syndication, largely as the result of two folks who will inevitablely be chastised, berated and hated. The names Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton are (in)famous. In talking to people, even the ones who have no clear “politics”, they can always muster an opinion on Jesse and Al and “the old civil rights guard.” What’s yours? I’m going to give you some of mine below.

I guess part of this is written in defense of Jesse and Al, especially when I see more and more people calling for their ‘removal from office’ or any other downgrading metaphor. We all know neither of them are elected officials, but even without election, they “play their position.” When many folks see Jesse and Al they look at them as glorified camera and victim chasers, but honestly have you ever thought that it’s the cameras that chase them now? Now granted to get the attention they now garner, they had to chase some cameras over the years, but as a dear friend once pointed out to me, when Jesse and Al show, the media shows. Even whenJesse and Al threaten to bring the cameras out change gets facilitated. Now I don’t think these are the brothas and sistahs who are in the trenches locally every day, that would be ridiculous to suggest, but sometimes they get the shine to those who need it in the trenches. The combination of their visibility and hard grassroots work can lead to some really impressive outcomes.

Sure Foxnews will wield Tawana Brawley and Hymietown references as their alpha & omega, but for all their “failures” haven’t they brought some justice forth?As we step out to combat injustice the targets on our back become large, sometimes it blows up in our faces, but nonetheless, shouldn’t we remain committed? Who has the committment and conviction to speak out on these things?

So when we talk about removing the old guard and redefining our goals as a people, who will carry on tradition? For that matter, should tradition even be carried on? Surely Al and Jesse aren’t the only tradition we have. If you go to any locale you will find small time heroes who lead big lives, but never get/got the respect they deserve. Over in Benton Harbor a warrior is imprisoned. In Detroit a warrior slashes weekly with her pen. A month ago we saw a legend give his last public words down the street from where much of it all began. The struggles we engage in daily are local, but are at same time global.

A couple years back I really anticipated Todd Boyd’s book the New HNIC: The Death of Civil Rights and the Reign of Hip Hop anxiously. But when I finally read it, I was disappointed. Mainly because questions of renewal and redefinition of the movement were largely glazed over or missed. As the young vanguard, do we believe in leaders? What does new leadership look like if so? What will be the moments that define our lives and our children’s lives, because always remember a few short moments can change the course of history.

As I returned to my state of Michigan a few weeks ago, I was greeted with the image of a dark skinned man sporting a fedora tipped to the side with a magenta shirt, and a white striped suit strolling out of the courthouse. In a matter of moments, for better or for worse, I knew I was home. As I visited my favorite Internet sites, I saw the image of Nathaniel Abraham splattered around. Abraham’s flamboyance in dress attracted heavy media attention, but just 8 years ago his use of shotgun grabbed national attention. As I turned on the news, video of him strolling in the parking lot in his suit was accompanied by voice overs discussing how residents were up in arms that Abraham was going free and would live in an apartment and attend college on the state’s dime. It was almost as if I could her the music entering as the news described the scary welfare queen in redux, this time only in the form of the cold blooded Black male killer. Let me make this clear up front, this piece is not about supporting Nathaniel Abraham’s killing, nor his dress, nor anything of that sort. This piece is about understanding what Nathaniel Abraham means to us and what he should represent to us, not what we’ve come to represent him as.

The heresy with which Michigan residents were disgusted by the prospect of Abraham being eligible for programs designed for abandoned youth, is the same disgust they should have felt when he was tried as an adult. It is the same disgust that we should hold when young men and women of color are released back into a society with few social supports. To me, it’s not a mystery that when a person, is isolated from social opportunities from childhood, and then you force them to “participate” fully there will be issues. As the old adage goes, “you gotta crawl before you ball.” Spending nearly half your life in prison cannot prepare you to succeed outside of prison. As the cameras snapped images of a man in outlandish attire, I could only see a manchild.

Recently when I was spending time with my little brother who is 11 and we began talking about independence and what his mother let’s him do. A typical conversation among pre-teens. As we talked, eventually we ended up telling him the story of Nathaniel Abraham, he looked on in shock and disbelief. My little brother is smart, top of his class, has his “head on straight” and I quickly realized the idea of leaving society and returning in 9 years was unimaginable. He, probably like most 11 year olds, found the prospect hard to swallow. As we talked more he repeatedly asked me questions like, “What happened to Nathaniel?” “Why’d he do (the murder) what he did?” These were difficult questions to answer. I still cannot fully answer them, but even my inability to answer speaks volumes.

I wonder about Nathaniel, not simply because he’s a human, but because I wonder what kind of world produces a manchild like him. I remember reading Fox Butterfield’s account of Willie Bosket and thinking that he told part of the story. Though I may not be able to retrace Nathaniel’s life, I’m sure there are more than enough elements that would trouble us. While the national cameras usually fixate on Detroit as a city in decline or post decline, seldom do people think of Pontiac. Pontiac, which sits not far from Detroit, is just as ripe with social ills and dangers: high amounts of crime, drugs, unemployment, and single headed households. While we all love the stories of “beating the odds” and want to highlight the exceptions to the rules of poverty, these stories are in many ways disingenuous. I think Nathaniel represents the rule, the rule that we need to grapple with, simply put: Your chances for success (however you define it) are severely limited (if not eliminated) if you grow up poor, Black, and male in America.

As the media spins images of Nathaniel “pimping the system” and people grow concerned that a “monster” lives on state support, we still have to ask, what/who created this “monster”? In reality, we all did. When we neglect and ignore the conditions of the youth, particularly poor and Black youth, we are assured that Nathaniel will not be the last Nathaniel. When there is bipartisan support for cutting social programs, we assure the development of the manchild. When we assume that things “aren’t that bad” because we can see downtown Detroit open a few shops, we ink poor children’s fates. Unfortunately, there will be more Nathaniels, people locked away with little ability to transition back into “society.” So the next time you hear of them getting “social support” before you ask “How could this happen?” you should ask “How did this happen?” In my estimation, his apartment and some tuition are a pittance compared to the life that we allowed Nathaniel to live before. Lastly, ask yourself, if you were Nathaniel, could you live up to the request of Judge Eugene Moore, “Show us all that you have become a caring, productive member of society”, without assistance.

“I’m not a racist.” Another variation on it is often, “I’m not a racist but…” or better yet, “Are you trying to say I’m a racist?” All three of these things are beginning to make me literally sick to my stomach. A few weeks back Michael Richards’ outburst set the blogosphere on fire, which in turn set the media a fire, which in turn drove Richards to say, “The funny thing is, I’m not a racist.” Well to Mr. Richards and all others who utter these words, I have one simple comment, “Yes, (fill in name here), you are a racist.” Many folks get jarred by this statement, so read it again in the “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus” tone. Does that help you stomach it?

I tend to let my mind ferment during the evening by watching reality TV or playing my Nintendo DS (oh it’s so great!). Tonight, I opted for Reality TV. I decided to watch the Real World Denver (no I don’t think I have a real reason to watch this trash, but I did). Tonight’s episode was yet another “big race episode” (this reminds me of when they would say things like, “Next week, a very special Webster” remember that? I digress). The characters end up in a tussle and the N word is barked by a drunken White male, Davis, within earshot of at least one Black roommate. I’ll summarize so you don’t have to watch the episode, they (producers) take the White roommate away for the night to a hotel and he returns the next day so the cast can talk it out. The result, the Black roommates forgive him and he says… you guessed it, “I’m not racist.” One Black roommate Tyrie asked him (and I paraphrase) “So I just want to know, when you used that word. Where did it come from? Is that something you’ve been thinking or did it come out of anger or…?” Davis quickly responded, “Out of anger.” This was particularly important to me because I knew once Tyrie gave him an “out” – mentioning anger, he would immediately jump at that reason. The episode closes with the Black roommates forgiving him and Davis staying so he can show them he can “watch what he says” and “he’s not a racist.” Dammit, you are a racist!

Now if any of you reading have had the pleasure (or pain) of sitting in on one of my guest lectures on race and ethnicity you know about this. Towards the beginning of the lecture I have all the people in attendance point to their neighbor and say, “You’re a racist” and then have them point to their other neighbor and say, “You’re a racist.” After people follow in a Pavlovian style they usually look back at me, half of them with some form of pissed expression. I then allay their fears by saying, “Now that everyone has been called a racist and called at least one person a racist, we can stop being scared of being labeled a racist.” The label racist is avoided like Jehovah’s Witness’ on a Saturday morning.

Now being the good sociologist that I am, I know that is because most people associate racism with individual deliberate actions towards someone of a subordinate group that are meant to harm and are based on prejudice. Which really means that nobody wants to be considered a Klan member (well except of course Klan members who are out of the closet). That’s the big problem, when I’m in a room of over 150 people and I ask, “Who is a racist?” and maybe one or two people raise their hands, we have a problem!!! The problem is not anger, the problem is not drunkeness, the problem is not hecklers and losing our cool, it’s racism! I know you want a nice out or absolution, I know you want to prove you’re not that bad word, but dammit you gotta claim it to change it.

Imagine this, you go the doctor, you ask him about a piercing headache you keep on having. The headache is usually bearable but on occasion it causes you to yelp in pain for others to hear. The doctor takes does a full exam, xrays, scans, etc. and sees you have a tumor on your brain. When the doctor comes back to talk to you and you ask the doc, “Am I alright?” The doc responds, “You have a cold.” A cold, hell nawh you have cancer!!! Racism is a disease, one that needs to be addressed. Unfortunately everyday we ask the world not to label ourselves or others as racist, which drives us further away from curing the sickness of racism. A doctor who prescribed Ludens to you (you know those cough drops you always wanted because they tasted like candy but your momma wouldn’t let you have them) instead of chemo would be in serious malpractice and in violation of the their oath. But everyday, people ask me, “Why do we have to say someone is racist?” “Can’t we call it something else? or “I get what you’re saying, but calling someone a racist is ugly.” Racism is ugly!!! I could go into my definition of racism but here is a link to a basic definition of racism that should get you started. If you’re already with me, read on.

For me, dropping the term racist from our lexicon weakens our ability to call everyone to the task of being accountable for inequality. Admittedly not all inequality is racial, but many of the social ills that we see have a strong racial component. To borrow from Beverly Tatum racism is like pollution, you may not have started it, but you must live with it and everyday your actions contribute to it. The true question is what are you going to do to reduce it? By ignoring racism and the people and institutions that perpetuate it, we retard social progress. Because we have dropped racist from our lexicon, racial discrimination (disproportionate impact) does not legally exist until animus is demonstrated. Because we stopped calling out people as being racist, the very people who support systems of oppression now label us racists. Because racist became perverted, some are now distorted enough to think the oppressed are the oppressors.

I know this getting way too long, but let me conclude by saying, we live in a world without racists, but in a world full of racism. While I am forgiving, reasonable, and solution oriented, it disturbs me to see us sidestep the root of the hatred that we see in the disparate worlds we live in and in the malice ridden words we speak. I’d rather have chemo than candy. Wouldn’t you?

I spent the day in suburban Detroit trying to convince White men to sit down and share their views and opinions about race and social opportunity with me in a survey. As you can imagine, it would have been easier for me to learn Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 in C minor (and trust me I don’t even know how to play an instrument)in between writing dissertation chapters. If nothing else was confirmed to me today, its that most White Michiganders don’t want to talk about race and ethnicity, unless it’s on their terms. The survey is a lengthy one, so I can understand people being intimidated by length, but I was intrigued by one White man’s response. He took the survey, looked it over for about 5 minutes and returned it to me empty and said “I’m not prejudice in any way and I’d rather not take this.” So the good social scientist in me says, “Well Dumi, he thought you were trying to get him to answer in a certain way, thus you tainted the experience.” But the catch comes in that this same man when I asked him about the city of Detroit a few minutes earlier told me, “It’s going no where” and the problem of the city were because “people want to play the race card.” He went on to explain some issues with race and how they were too trumped up, etc, etc. His returning of th survey reminded me of 2 things about White dialogues about race: 1) we can talk about race and ethnicity, but only on White folks’ terms and 2) the race card is real in White folks’ minds.

Now you can say I am unfairly characterizing a group, White men, on this guys response, but trust me, I had a number of guys be not so kind to me after the survey. I don’t think it was simply the people who I bumped into today, but this country and Metro Detroit has a serious silence on the dialogue of race. Now Detroit is the most segregated major metro area. Want the evidence of it? I spoke to people who have lived over 10 years in the suburbs of Detroit who admitted to me that they had only been into the city 2 or 3 times. When I informed some people I wanted to get their opinions about Metro Detroit they said things like, “Well I don’t know anything about the Detroit area.” Ladies and Gentleman, if you live in the same county, less than 8 miles from the city limits, you may be a part of the Metro Detroit area. I didn’t make the term up, hell if you watch the news they say it at least 30 times each morning. But somehow, White Metro Detroiters, seem to consider themselves autonomous, and in many ways are. If you live in a completely segregated space, attend segregated work, and socialized in segregated ways, you are autonomous. But if you live in those conditions then why not talk about race?

Well because talking about race means that someone is going to play that dreaded card. That’s right, there is always a hold card tucked deep in my hand. It’s more powerful then a flush and apparently all Black folks are adept at playing it, it’s the race card. I think the term the race card is really interesting in that it immediately trivializes social experience. There is nothing cool or joyous about being pulled over and having police officers approach your car with their gun drawn because you’re a young Black man. There is nothing fun about being followed around stores when you’re really trying to buy something. There is nothing amusing about living in substandard conditions because you inherit the debits of your family’s “misfortune.” When I talk about race, I’m not playing shit, I’m telling you my experience. Don’t discount my experience because you have lived a different one than me. I don’t discount your experiences. What if I said, “Oh he’s playing the class card.” People don’t say that, because folks who are White, Black, Asian, Latin@, Purple know that social class matters. Isn’t it peculiar that race and ethnicities, which are just as “socially real” as social class, are part of a game.

There are so many rhetorical tricks around the issue of race in the country that silence the dialogue. If you want some good reading on them check out Eduardo Bonilla-Silva. I think the first step to real dialogue about race and opportunity is realizing that no one here is playing a card or a game. The stakes of segregation, discrimination and deprivation are real. See cause if this was a game, I would be holding chips under the table, because the race card doesn’t seem to “win” me much. Ah man, I’ll write more later.

The video below is done by Kiri Davis and its entitled “A girl like me.” It’s a short film from the Media that Matters Film Festival. Dance posted the link to it on her page earlier this week and I found myself too busy to check it out, then my sister sent me to it, so I decided to watch it. Honestly, it made me cry, literally. I just grabbed it off of youtube so you could click on it directly and not be like me and just pass it by. One click. Please watch it.

One of the reasons I cried was that for someone who studies race and children everyday, in someways I have to believe or want to believe “things have changed.” Her “replication” of the doll study, was the thing got me gushing tears. As a social scientist I’ve toiled over, rationalized, and critiqued the Clark findings by saying, well the doll was painted, etc. which had an effect … blah, blah, fucking blah! There is something powerful and clear about this video. Scientifically we’ll always debate self-esteem among African-Americans, but I’m not sure science can tell us some of the things that we’re living.

So I was in Montreal this past week for the Association of Black Sociologists and the American Sociological Association meetings. The meetings went well, I got chance to see a number of people that I haven’t seen in a year or two and I got a chance to fish around for future opportunities (graduate school must come to an end).

The title of the post comes from my tour guide on the “Tour of Black Montreal”. Our tour guide was a 50 year old White man who was of French descent. I should have known the tour was going to be shady when he told us that he was going to give us “a standard” tour of Montreal and highlight some Black history. Well, for two hours, I sat on a bus, along with about 50 Black sociologists and we heard him randomly mention Black people. I learned that there are two Black communities in Montreal: the Black English and the Astians (that’s Haitian to you none French speakers I also learned that the World Expo of ’67 changed his life and he met people from Africa and that the Africans loved the Expo so much they just decided to stay. I learned that lgbtq prefer to be called “sexual minorities” because it’s politically correct.

I also learned that there are no ghettos in Montreal, which is interesting. Well really interesting because my friend stayed in a “hotel” in the “red light district” and while walking her to her door, I saw two drug transactions, a fight, and we had to ask the resident prostitutes to move off the stoop so she could get in. Come to think of it, it does make sense there are no ghettos, cause there are no poor or homeless. After all, I learned from our guide that there are enough social services and that anyone I saw on the street (those who we in the States would consider homeless), wanted to be on the street. I mean even if it does get down to -37c (-34.6f) according to our tour guide. They just didn’t want to go into shelters. I guess the human condition is just different in Montreal.

Well maybe not, my friends came across “The Illuminated Crowd” Statue on McGill, it’s pretty intense.

A visitor to downtown Montreal almost can’?t help walking by a large sculptural group outside a bank building on McGill College Avenue. Called The Illuminated Crowd, the work is by the European artist, Raymond Masson, and it was installed in 1986. It’?s made of polyester resin painted a kind of vanilla yellow and itÂ?s a crowd, all right! Dozens of figures, from the frenzied to the serene, seem to jostle each other for a place on the sidewalk. According to the descriptive text, the piece deals with the nature of man, violence and hope and the quest for the ideal. According to this writer, it’?s one of those works that divide people into two groups Â? those who love it vs. those who hate it. Quote from Montreal Behind the scenes

Here are some more views of it (1,2,3,4). Well I’m back and still black at Michigan so I’m gonna get to working.

Update: I neglected to mention that at the close of the ABS conference we shared the hotel with Anthrofest aka a Furry convention. Now I wonder what my tour guide would have referred to them as???

Whenever I lecture of race and ethnicity envitably I get questions about racism around the world. I always hesitate to answer the questions, trying to feel what the person is asking. For me to answer accurately, I would have to know the situation they were talking about, as well as the social, historical, and political dimensions of the landscape to really give a decently accurate response. I guess it’s a response to not wanting to be “wrong” or misread a situation or continue to perpetuate the belief that race, as it is lived in this country, is the way race functions everywhere else. There are some particular things about the ways race and ethnicity function in this country that make it unique, but certainly not an outlier.

On the global level, racial or ethnic divisions can be seen, but not necessarily in the fashion that we construct them here. A couple of years ago a I had a student come up to me and tell me that he was trying to explain to an African immigrant to this country that he was Black. He said, “Man, Dumi I tried to tell him, but he just didn’t understand.” Besides feeling shame for having clearly produced a student who missed the nuascences in these social categorizations, I was reminded that my student, like most people read the US constellations of race and ethnicity as global. This shouldn’t be suprising, hell, most Americans see the rest of the world through their own positionality. It is not to say that we all don’t have a unique view point, but Americans seem to seldom interrogate why they view the world as they do. Who is Black? Who is White? Who is male? Who is female? All of these answers can vary dependent upon where you are. So why do American insist on reading race, in particular, in a US centric fashion? Maybe because sometimes it fits or does it?

Recently, the state of Michigan has been ripe with discusion of this ad. You’ll have to enlarge the ad to read the text. Essentially it talks about how when Jesse Owens in 1936 campaigned for a Republican candidate. In the quote Owens explains he campaigned for him because when he won his gold neither Roosevelt nor Hitler would shake his hand, but the Republican candidate did. The ad goes on to explain how African Americans have long been treated poorly by the democrats and now it’s time for a change (I assume he wants me to vote for Dick DeVoss). I think the ad is pretty interesting for its imagery and argument. Also shout out to Daily Kos for publishing it. I had a hard time locating it, probably because of the Hitler image. For the past five years or so, I keep hearing Republicans and members of the right talk about how African-Americans are considered a given to the Democrats and how we’ve been SO mistreated, so we should really not show our allegiance. This type of reasoning always reminds me of the quote “No permanent enemies, no permanent allies, only permanent interests.” So I ask, what the hell interest does the right have for my condition?

I agree that democrats have been “hoeing” us for a long time. I agree that we are one of the most reliable blocks, but honestly the other side of the fence doesn’t seem to have my interests at heart. Let me count the ways: 1) anti-felon voting rights, 2)disproportinate sentencing, 3) reduced social spending, 4) anti-affirmative action, 5) increased military presence internationally… and the list goes on and on like Shyheim. Good try on the ad fellas, but please do realize we’re a little smarter than seeing a set of images and thinking what was in the past, is in the present. The context of Owens’ life (domestically and internationally) was one of exclusion and hatred and in many ways, African-Americans’ lives remain analogous. But I think we’re clear who won’t shake our hands now… ain’t that Right?

And on a related note kinda, how about that World Cup finish?