Eight years from Now Things Could Look Very Different to Some People

I've already said a few things about what Obama's victory means for race relations in the United States. I don't want to go over the top with this, but I found this article that John McWhorter wrote last summer. McWhorter is black and conservative and frames the importance of an Obama presidency in very succinct terms. Read the article.

"Obamakids" by John McWhorter

What stands out for me, and what has always stood out for me, is the importance of seeing someone other than a white man in this symbolic position of power. It matters that a black or brown or female American can be a CEO or some sort of mega-popular Hollywood god or goddess. But it matters more that such a person can sit in the symbolic seat of the most powerful person in the country.

What McWhorter says about ten year olds living their entire formative years with this man as president is truly worth pondering. There is no way anybody can begin to measure how that might shake up the way people of different groups interact or see themselves. I'm quite looking forward to watching this play itself out.

Just some food for thought.

Professors Do Not Seem to Sway Student Opinions

According to recent research on that tired issue of politics in the classroom, the political opinions of professors do not seem to have any influence over the political opinions of students. (New York Times)

Having been included in the book, The Professors: The 101 Most Dangerous Academics in America, the issue hits close to home for me, as one might imagine. I'm not surprised, of course, given that I can hardly entice my students to follow my advice to read the newspaper, not to drink themselves into oblivion, cut down on consuming needless goods--let alone think like I do about a wide range of complex political issues that perplex me most of the time.

So I'm left to wonder about what students are learning in the classroom if they do not follow their professor's direction on political concerns. Granted I am biased, but I happen to think that my personal opinions about Obama and McCain and all of the other candidates are noteworthy. I'm a learned person and have given serious thought to which one would make a better president. For twenty-five years my full-time job has been to reflect on these kinds of issues and I think that students probably ought to listen to me...and then listen to the person teaching in class next to mine and the next person and so forth. Where are students receiving their information if not from professors? The Daily Show? Hardball? The fair and balanced commentaries on Fox News? Their parents? These alternatives are really not very appealing for the spread of democratic process.

Go beyond the idea that classrooms should be an objective-neutral-dispassionate-etc. space for the transmission of ideas. And step outside of the box labeled "professors have inordinate persuasive powers and should not impose their ideas onto vulnerable students." We throw our youth to the wolves every time they leave the home.

And why is it better or more acceptable for people to follow their parents over their professors? As someone whose job it is to unravel the bigotry and narrow-minded provincialism that some (perhaps "many") parents have imposed on their progeny--and this seems to begin as soon as consciousness forms--I'm not especially hopeful about the possibility of love-acceptance-generosity-tolerance-democracy flourishing if we primarily rely on the magical fertilizer of parent-child socialization.

OK, so that sounds harsh, but I'm trying to make a point. My experience has led me to conclude that most parents have relatively little information about lots of complex issues and therefore have no business imposing their narrow vision on their children. Oh, except they're parents and that's one of the privileges of being a parent, right? As a parent one gets to tell one's children all of the things that they wish our own parents either told or did not tell us.

So I guess what I'm really trying to say is that most parents do not think like me...and until they do they should let me brainwash their kids. Did I really just write that?

I'm Not Kidding. There Really is a Run On Guns

The symbolism of a run on guns starting on the morning after Barack Obama's election victory is almost too much to take. Finally, a black man is walking up the front steps to the nicest house in town, the one we all look to with reverence each time we pass, the one whose residents always more attention than any others in the neighborhood...and white people are scrambling for their guns.

Amazing.

Before you get defensive, let me clarify that I think that if Obama was a strong Second Amendment advocate, gun owners and ammo lovers would not think that he's going to pass some sort of gun control designed to either take their guns--presumably "from their cold dead hands"--or make it nearly impossible to buy more. In other words, I think that for most of these post-election gun enthusiasts, the fact that Obama is black has nothing to do with mad scramble for protection.

Did I just say "most"? Let me think about this again. Bill Clinton supported gun controls that were more extreme than those supported by Obama. Clinton supported the Brady Bill and an assault weapons ban. Obama wants people to be limited to purchasing one handgun per month! (In case you're not counting, that is twelve per year, or nearly fifty in a four year period.) OK, so Obama does support allowing local governments to shape their own gun laws, more extensive background checks, curtailing the sale of armor piercing bullets, and semi-automatic weapons. But still, Clinton campaigned on gun control and I don't recall lines at gun shops on the days following his victory.

Alright, I won't delve into cynicism. Maybe this economic melt down has everyone edgy and wondering whether a serious run on the banks might look like the urbanized 21st century version of the "Gunfight at the OK Corral." Get one more gun...just in case.

Let me think positively and assume that white people are not afraid--well not most of them anyway--that black people are going to get out of hand. I'll maintain that the law-abiding center of middle white America is not afraid, that the people plopping guns down on the counters represent the fringe elements who believe the spam emails that are sent to them and still think Obama is a Muslim. But that center of middle America still thinks that our paramilitary police forces will still have the upper hand and they know how many guns white people own?

In my most optimistic state of mind, these antsy gun buyers simply fear one particular black man, not all of them.

Certainly all of this is one way to see how the United States has evolved as a nation because not long ago many more white people clearly would have been running for their weaponry. Seriously...probably the entire population of white people.

It's just the juxtaposition that makes me shake my head and ponder the irony that even the white power fighting, Black Panther supporting, Africa uniting, afro wearing black activists of the sixties could not have scripted this any better. "Why of course," I can hear them saying, "the white man just can't let it go."

Obama Really Does Matter

OK...so I've heard what I'm about to say so many times now that it's almost unthinkable to imagine myself adding to the chorus. But like every other pundit writing sound bites to the amorphous public, I have my own unique perspective and I can't seem to rest until I put it out there.

Obama. This is big. Really. For the countless interactions we haphazardly define as "race relations" in this country, I have to say that this is probably as BIG as the Civil Rights Movement. Here's what I see.

I heard from someone that upon realizing that Obama won the election Whoopi Goldberg said something to the effect of, "I feel as though I can finally unpack my bags." All but a few black people know exactly what she meant. Other people of random backgrounds have no idea what she was referring to. And some people no doubt get her point exactly and feel flabergasted at yet another person of African descent proclaiming that he or she has never felt like a full citizen. Let me make it real.

I know lots of people who never got that essential unconditional love as a child. Surely you know some of them also, right? No matter what they do, regardless of the successes they accumulate along the way, they always want some kind of intangible recognition that will presumably satisfy the deep seated yearning for acceptance and inform them that they are good enough. I must confess, I have a low tolerance for these people. Maybe it's because I seemed to manage quite fine in the quest for self love without having received a tremdous amount as a child; perhaps it's simply because I have a disposition that neither craves nor benefits from the love and recognition I receive from others around me.

In any case, when I encounter people like this I am often left wondering what it could possibly take for them to finally look in a mirror and say the imortal words of Stuart Smally, the Saturday Night Live character: "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me." For some people, of course, the answer is "nothing"; tt is never going to happen. For others, however, it can be one simple random achievement or a long-awaited rocognition from someone in their lives.

So let's flip the script and look at African Americans (as opposed to West Indians and more recent immigrants from Africa). Here is a population of people who were never accepted. In fact, they were called and treated as "beasts" and "sub humans" and every attempt to integrate them into the American fold and treat them as people with the inalienable rights as spelled out in the Constitution was met with violent and (usually) bloody resistance. This is true right up into the second half of the 20th century. Sure, each decade seemed to offer its own unique opening, but watching the police turn the dogs loose on peaceful demonstrators in the 1960s or the prisons fill will non-violent black men in the 1980s and 90s, leads me to conclude that those "rights" were often handed out sparingly.

So imagine the collective trauma and the stories people passed through their communities that allowed them to hold their heads up and see themselves as fully human when most everyone else did not agree. Without getting sacchrine and drawing on white guilt, I think that reading the post 1865 history of black America is the only way to fully envision how remarkable it is that this community remained both strong and proud.

Let me help make this more real. Consider the mythology that a child must create to explain how he or she is still a wonderful person in spite of the fact that that child's parents have told him or her repeatedly to look in the mirror and see worthless, good for nothing trash. Sure, they might have an endearing uncle or neighbor who warns not to listen, who tries to reassure with statements like, "Don't listen to him, honey, you're really quite beautiful. You're a little princess." Unfortunately, it is not difficult to imagine that for all but a handful of such child victims of parental brutality such words understandibly fall on deaf ears.

Back to the African American community.

Throughout slavery there was a black professional class -- doctors, dentists, lawyers, professors and teachers. It was small but it offered hope and an alternative vision for some. The end of slavery marked a relatively small uptick in possibility (since not much really changed in 1865), and some expansion of that hope in the black community. Over time this professional class grew, a black middle class emerged, a unionized and dignified working class started to take root. And then there were black mayors and CEOs and Generals and Congressional Representatives and even two Secretaries of State.

But it wasn't the mountaintop. White society never said "not only do we accept you, but actually we want to follow you...so why don't you lead us all of us." There is something about that cherished office, the highest in the land, and how giving the keys to a black American has symbolic meaning that cannot be measured. You see, like that broken person who never got that love, there have been just too many black people for whom those other achievements were not enough. Almost...but not quite.

This is the ultimate welcoming to Americans of African descent, the one that far too many have wanted but, I can safely say, never expected so suddenly. And it is why black Americans by the millions are feeling as though they can finally unpack their bags and make themselves at home.

As someone who has spent nearly twenty years on the front lines of race and ethnic relations in the United States, I can say with confidence that this is really big.

Obama and Black Paranoia

OK...so "paranoia" is a strong word. But I wanted to grab your attention. Perhaps projection is a better way to describe a couple of things that I'm hearing.

First, Obama received support from 43 percent of white voters, while 55 percent of the white electorate voted for McCain. On one hand, this is seen by many people as a remarkable achievement. Imagine that. Some 43 percent of non Hispanic white Americans--remember that white people represent slightly less than 70 percent of the total American populace--case their ballot for a president of color. Take yourself back two years and imagine someone telling you that. How many of us would have believed it?

On the other hand, I have heard some somewhat disgruntled mumbling about how it was "only" 43 percent of white Americans. The underlying sentiment with that word "only" thrown in is that not even half of white America supported his presidency.

Such concerns are befitting a people who have a short attention span for the details of history, but they do not account for one powerful anecdotal fact: that 43 percent is a remarkable achievement when compared with past presidential campaigns. Consider the percentage of non Hispanic whites who voted for the following presidents:

2004 Kerry - 41 percent
2000 Gore - 42 percent
1996 Clinton - 43 percent
1992 Clinton - 39 percent
1988 Dukakis - 40 percent
1984 Mondale - 35 percent
1980 Carter - 36 percent

Obama beat all of them except Clinton's second campaign, a president who by that time was often referred to as our "first black president." The truth is, the majority of white Americans are Republican or Independent while blacks and other racial minorities lean heavily Democratic. This heavily impacts those numbers.

On another note, and this is more in line with paranoia, I've heard many black people voice their concern that Obama is going to be "judged more harshly" than previous (white) presidents simply or primarily because he's black. This reflects old school thinking emerging out of the black community and it's definitely not without merit. Anyone with an honest eye on race relations would conclude that black Americans have undoubted been held to a higher standard than other people, especially white Americans. This is not news to anyone paying attention, especially black people.

But in fairness, if black people go into the Obama years wearing these lenses, then we're in for some serious disagreements because ALL presidents are "judged harshly," even for silly seemingly mundane decisions. Obama has just taken the world's worst job. For every friend he'll make two enemies. For each slap on the back he'll receive another in the face. Remembering the harsh way in which all U.S. presidents are judged will do wonders for averting unnecessary arguments about the kind of job our new president is doing.

So all of the people who have had this concern, get ready for your man to take a harsh smack down for the next four or eight years. Trust me, it goes with the job.

Election Day Irony (Part II)

I'm sure some people are confused about the difference between a "marriage" and a "civil union" and don't understand why it matters to many people in the LGBT community which one they are are allowed to experience. Here's my quick take on the core argument, and keep in mind that I'm not a constitutional scholar.

Here is a prefatory comment.

Religiously inclined Americans hold a wide range of ideological perspectives when it comes to the nexus between civil society and their churches. Some, like the televangelist Pat Robertson, think this is a christian nation and that Christian "rules" and "laws" should dictate the behavior of the people living inside of the boundaries of the United States. Others, such as Jehovah's Witnesses, call for a severe separation of church and state and do not even support voting.

So what about marriage?

Depending on where you stand on the continuum, it is either a legal dictate of our secular government or a covenant from god...or both. Sociologically speaking, in every society there must be some sort of legal union that is sanctioned by the state or cultural leaders because people who hinge their lives together must account for emergent legal issues such as who is eligible to be a beneficiary of a person's life insurance, land and other estate payments. For example, are parents, spouses, or children primary beneficiaries?

But over time, such "legal unions" have come to involve god and so most religious bodies weigh in on how they are performed and what they signify. Generally speaking, the terminology changes when god enters the picture and we start calling these unions "marriages." And herein lies the brouhaha.

Why would anyone come to imagine that the "proper" coupling who deserves a marriage license must be a man and a woman? Where did we get this idea? Why religion, of course. We just walked into murky water.

And it gets murkier. Religious leaders in the United States have the power to dictate the conditions of these unions (i.e., marriages) that bind people together and settle secular legal questions and claims. In other words, people acting "on behalf of god" involve themselves in the affairs of the state -- which means that they are also acting, in effect, as "functionaries" of the government. So one would think that they should either marry everyone who wants to be married or be relieved of the power to perform ceremonies for select individuals on behalf of the government, ceremonies that create legal contracts that are recognized by the courts. If they refuse to do this, one could reasonably argue that they can no longer have the privilege of acting as agents of the state.

A way to resolve the problem is to say that everyone, including all religious believers, should have to accept a contract called a "legal union." People could still be married in their church, but that ceremony would not be sanctioned by the secular government unless a secular authority was there as a witness. In other words, without a secular representative that ceremony would not generate the rights and responsibilities of a secular union (e.g., determine a person’s estate beneficiaries and so on).

At issue is whether such "discrimination" under the rubric of the government is constitutional and whether religious believers should have the power to control the secular affairs of the state when they are acting in such a "discriminatory" way. This is, after all, a founding principle of the United States. (Of course, such religious believers who think homosexuality is a sin in the eyes of God rarely see their actions as "discrimination"; they're just carrying out God's will.)

In any case, this is the root of the idea that "prohibiting gay marriage is unconstitutional." At issue is that it's unconstitutional according to many state charters. With this in mind, it's only a matter of time before such anti gay marriage amendments are overturned in some states...or so it seems to me. But I'm no legal scholar. Remember, I'm the knucklehead who just last year said that we'd never elect a man named "Hussein" as our president.

I'll leave off with some words from Arnold Schwarzenegger in speaking about the passage of Proposition 8, the anti-gay marriage amendment in California: "It is unfortunate but it is not the end because I think this will go back into the courts. ... It's the same as in the 1948 case when blacks and whites were not allowed to marry. This falls into the same category."

And while Aaaaarnold is probably correct in saying that this will go back to the courts, it will certainly go back to the voters and they will eventually pass a pro gay marriage resolution. Exit polls show that a majority of young voters of color actually voted against Prop 8 in California (i.e.,the youth actually supported gay marriage). So it's just a matter or time before more waves of young people register to vote.

Watch Keith Obermann, the liberal commentator speak on this. I'm generally not prone to admiring such a one-sided perspective and for my tastes Obermann seems like he's filled with a mix of hot air and self-righteousness, but there is something unique about the way he pushes this issue right into one's face that makes me smirk. Perhaps it's my own self-righteousness and arrogance. He misses a couple of critical points, to be sure, but on at least one point--that this is really about love and relationship--it's thought-provoking. Of course, if you think that God frowns upon LGBT love, however it occurs, then don't bother to click on the link. It will just upset you. Wait, I just watched it a second time and I think it's really worth watching.

Watch the Video.

One Notable Irony on Election Day

There is much to say about the election of Barack Obama, and no doubt we will. For the moment, however, let me say that it's ironic that the Americans who were instrumental in bringing our first president of color into office (black and Hispanic voters) ALSO played a major role in rolling back progress on the road to egalitarian same sex relationships and marriage. Exit polls show that approximately 70 percent of voters in these groups supported gay marriage bans.

This was almost entirely religiously inspired, of course, given the disproportionate numbers of Catholic and evangelical Christians in these two populations. "Thank you Jesus for delivering Barack Obama to the great white house built by slaves...and for protecting us from the sin of loving the wrong person." Right brain open. Left brain close.

OK, so I don't want to offend anyone who believes that homosexuality is a sin but please, read on.

I'm wondering when members of these two groups will comprehend what it has taken white Americans so long to understand -- when we deny others the valued rights that our own group relishes we inevitably weaken our own grasp of these rights along with our ability of our government to exercise them when needed. It's a rather sobering realization, to be sure, and one that anyone who does not have a reserved seat at table of the ruling classes would be wise to note.

What's truly ironic about this, in my humble opinion, is that in another 20-30 years the children and grandchildren of the Obama youth may well look back to this election as another "shameful chapter" in this country's history of unequal treatment of minority groups. "Oh yeah, sure they elected Obama," I can almost hear some politicized college student say, "but they buried the rights of the gay ( or some new term) community. What good was it?" Electing a black man will be less noteworthy than disenfranchizing a gay person.

The difference will be that when this conversation occurs the fingers will be pointed in some unexpected directions given how anti-gay marriage amendments were supported by so many racial and ethnic minorities.

Most of the time I open my mouth I seem to be wrong--I was just reminded by a former student that last fall I stated that this country would never elect a man named "Hussein" as its leader, after all--but mark my words, the youth of the future are going to be somewhat more open-minded about race than current generations but they will surely also see homosexuality very differently. They are, I am convinced, going to be much more open about LGBT issues than voters today. I guess every generation will have to wage its battle with bigotry and fear...and grow stronger from it.

Rock on to them. Personally, I must say that I hope they make more progress on this issue than the current generations are making.

Dropping the N-bomb - Part One

I was facilitating a group discussion last week and a white participant raised the question of why it's acceptable for black (and brown) people to drop the N-bomb but not white people. "It's an unfair double standard," she said, as have hundreds of other before her.

I've always found this to be an odd complaint. There are all sorts of things that each one of us can say to family and friends that would be off limits if a total stranger said those very same words.

But so many white people have voiced this double standard complaint over the years that I've come to see their struggle as rooted in more than the issues unique to race relations and the disturbing legacy of that word. What I see now is that young white people in this generation do not want to drop the N-bomb (with the "a" ending) as a means of entitlement, "If you get to say it, we get to say it." I'm starting to think that they want to do so because that word has become the "gold standard of cool."

Let's face it. Urban African Americans are the epitome of coolness. It's been like this for generations. Jazz. Cool. Rock -n- Roll. Cool. Hip Hop. Cool. Timberland shoes worn by white people. Uncool. Tims worn by black people. Cool. You get my point.

Watch Dave Chapelle and Chris Rock and a long list of lesser others kicking around N-bombs. What white person with any healthy barometer of coolness does NOT want to be as cool as Chapelle or Rock? And what it looks like these days is you're not going to get there if you can't drop the N-bomb -- especially in mixed company, with black gatekeepers of cool nodding or laughing in approval. THAT is the ultimate statement that says "I'm cool," AND "I've been admitted into the club."

Very simply, young white people may be wrestling with "nigga" not so much as a racial signifier as a signifier of "cool." In comparison to the generations that preceeded them, black people have reshaped the word from its singularly hateful focus and now it stands in the center of the culture as an indicator of much more than the state of race relations.

More to come...

The Demise of the Race Traitor

I first heard the term "race traitor" about fifteen years ago while watching a documentary on white supremacist groups. A KKK member used it in reference to white people who marry outside of the white race and, in her estimation, weaken the "natural and God given supreme power of white people." Years later I began hearing references to race traitors coming from some members of the black and Chicano (i.e., Mexican American) communities. They used it to refer to black and Mexican people who do not embrace the "white privilege leads to white racism leads to black and brown disempowerment" paradigm. An example of this kind of race traitor would be Ward Connerly, the conservative-libertarian African American activist who has fought to roll back government and social policies that put minorities in special categories such that they are, in his words, "treated differently than members of majority groups" (e.g., affirmative action programs).

So recently I've read some references to Obama as a "race traitor" because he has stood behind some ideas that have been popular among people who are often demonized by leftists as racist and bigoted. One of these ideas is that some of the responsibility for impoverishment and disenfranchisement in communities of color rests with the members of those very communities. For example, Obama has excoriated black and Hispanic men for fathering and not taking responsibility for children. (Nearly two-thirds of black babies are born to unmarried women, as are nearly half of all Hispanic babies.) He has chastised people young and old for searching for a quick dollar but being unwilling to suffer through the sweat and strain of school and moving up the social mobility ladder from minimum wage to something better by way of hard work. Yes, this does sound reminicent of the criticisms that I've been listening to all of my life: "all minorities want to be on welfare" and "blacks and Hispanics don't want to work hard."

Certainly the problem is that such blanket generalizations are absurd and, for the most part, racist. Most people on welfare are white, after all, and the vast majority of blacks and Hispanics have jobs and work as hard as anyone else. But as a community activist who has spent many years in neighborhoods that have been rocked by joblessness and limited economic and educational opportunities, Obama has witnessed his share of people who actually do NOT take responsibility for the decisions they make and who consequently weaken the social fabric of their communities. What Obama has said is that when these decisions negatively affect others--as when a poor, unmarried woman gets pregnant or a jobless man gets a woman pregnant--other people must invariably step in to help provide social and economic assistance. In other words, responsibility must shift from one person to another person, family, or even an entire community.

Complicating all of this, Obama has argued, is that sympathetic observers and sometimes the actors themselves often try to defend the negative behavior by claiming that it is caused by racism, as though individuals could not have acted otherwise. This type of thinking, he insists, will never change the underlying structures of inequality that undermine poor communities; it only leads to white resentment and further unwillingness to critically example past wrongs and their present-day consequences.

In this sense, Obama represents a new generation of activists and thinkers in the black and brown communities, people who are willing to publicly examine the ways in which poor people participate in their own plight. They are open to examining the nexus of individual free will and the structural constraints of human behavior. In doing so they offer all of us an opportunity to step away from old arguments that bury opportunities for dialogue and move us toward some new kind of common ground.

Emphasis here, what is new about their approach, is that they want to do this publicly. Members of black and brown communities have always been engaged in this debate--it's just that somehow when the debate shifted to a public volume free will and individual responsibility were toned down while the structural constraints of racism and discrimination were voiced loudly for all to hear, especially white people. The fear has always been that if concerns about individual responsibility were carried into the public arena, then white people would use these concerns as an excuse to no longer accept their share of responsibility for the racism and discrimination that does exist and that does benefit white communities. This is why the Rev. Jesse Jackson whispered that he'd like to "cut off Obama's nuts" for continually attacking irresponsible black men. According to the thinking of Jackson and others, these black men would not be "irresponsible" if it were not for deeply institutionalized racism and descrimination, if they had had a fair shake in the marketplace of school and work.

Jackson's criticism makes sense, of course, but the genie may be out of the bottle and these new activists of color may not be willing to keep these criticisms localized to the black and brown communities. They want an open, honest conversation because they believe this is crucial for the change they want to see. And even if it means that leftists like Obama and Corey Booker, the young mayor of Newark, New Jersey, are sitting at the same table as conservatives like Connerly, the conversation is going to take place in public. The only way to create the change that all sides want to see, they say, is to focus on empowerment and THAT must come by way of a thorough accountability for people's actions--white people AND black and brown people.

As the old guard lose their grip on the public conversation, their ability to silence the "race traitors" is going to become increasingly difficult.

The Color of Poverty

I was listening to a story on National Public Radio this evening about "poor people"--which turned out to be about black and Hispanic Americans living in a central city somewhere in the U.S. I was troubled by how often we focus on black and Hispanic people when the topic is about poor people--as if the two are the same. Given this lopsided way race and poverty are portrayed and discussed in our media, it is not surprising that so many of us (including black and Hispanic Americans themselves) assume that connection.

In truth, however, half of all black and Hispanic families are "middle class." Granted, that term is extremely broad and, in fact, most Americans consider themselves "middle class"--including many people who earn over $100,000 and less than $15,000 per year. This is because for most people the category has as much to do with cultural values as it does income, wealth, and status.

Nevertheless, with respect to their economic circumstances, families can be considered more or less firmly embedded into the middle class. Economists call this "Middle Class Economic Security," and a report was published this past summer by Demos, a non-partisan public policy research and advocacy organization, in which the security of black and Hispanic middle class families was examined and compared to the security of middle class American families as a whole. (Unfortunately they left Asians and Native Americans out of their analysis.) By and large the research seems to be carefully crafted--and the findings are worth considering.

To begin, they measure "security" according to five broad indicators:

1. Assets: number of months able to live at 75% of a family's current living expenses using only savings
2. Academic Degree: a family with at least one person with a college degree is more secure
3. Housing: percent of after tax income spent on housing
4. Budget: amount left over at end of year after paying taxes and all expenses
5. Healthcare: number of family members covered by health insurance.

From these indicators, they create an "index of security" that they use to ascertain how secure a given family or group of families appears to be. Here is a summary of their findings:

While 31 percent of American middle class families are securely in the middle class, only 18 percent of Hispanic families and 26 percent of black families have the combination of assets,
education, sufficient income, and health insurance to ensure middle-class financial security.

And while one in five (21 percent) of American families are at high risk of falling out of the middle class, one in three (33 percent) African American familes and twice as many (41 percent) Hispanic families are in serious danger of slipping out of the middle class.

Keep in mind that the security index of "American families" includes black and Hispanic families and is not an index measure of white families -- and so it is skewed downward. Having said that, it is worth pondering just how many Americans of all ethnic and racial backgrounds are at risk.

Consider this:

* A full 95 percent of African-American and 87 percent of Hispanic middle class families do not have enough net assets to meet three-quarters of their essential living expenses for even three months if their source of income were to disappear. Both figures are well above 78 percent, the national average among all middle-class families.

* Sixty-eight percent of African-American and 56 percent of Hispanic middle-class households
have no net financial assets whatsoever and live from paycheck to paycheck. Just over half (52 percent) of Americans in general have no financial assets.

Check out the "By a Thread" report. It is worth thinking about.

Though it is essential to understand these differing patterns of wealth and poverty between groups, it is also important to notice how often our perception of this data is skewed by the sheer number of times the media mixes the term "poor" with the term "black" or "Hispanic."

Obama and Undecided Voters: What Role Does Racism Play?

There is considerable discussion these days about how racism of many undecided white voters might be the factor that keeps Barack Obama out of the White House. This is something worth pondering and an idea that I've been thinking for several months now.

In effect, large numbers of white people have conflicted feelings about black people and other racial minorities, just as many black and brown people feel conflicted about white people. And regardless of their political leanings, white people tend to want to be open-minded and accepting of other people who are not like them--and they tend to believe that they "don't see color." However, below the surface many of them unwittingly have questions and concerns that often do not become articulated thoughts.

At the same time, large numbers of white people feel inundated with the message that "all racism is bad." Naturally, they learn a coded language for how to think and act in multicultural situations or whenever one's behavior and ideas about race might be judged; they learn to say the right thing and appear as though they're a member of the multicultural team, even if they play for another side. Extensive research on "latent racism" (i.e., the racism that is largely buried just beneath the surface of our waking consciousness) clearly suggests that when the moment comes to pull the lever for a black man, many white people are not going to be able to do it.

Dick Meyer, an editorial director for NPR Digital Media, has written a very balanced piece that suggests that Obama's run for the seat in the Oval Office may well be derailed by our inability to create a society that is not mired in prejudice and racism. I'd like to think that Mr. Meyer's research is off base and ill-informed, that he's digging up divisive issues and playing the race card, and that the American public is progressing away from racism. But from what I know about the sociological underpinnings of racism in our society today, I think he may be on target.

You be the judge:

Against the Grain: Obama, Race and Undecided Voters

What DNA Testing Cannot Do for Race Relations

I thought Penn State students were with me on the cusp of a new era. Even though most of us live (and too often die) by the “racial” group to which our appearances give us membership rights, I thought that DNA ancestry testing would inspire us to re-imagine how we identify ourselves—and how we relate to one another.

I was wrong.

It’s not that I don’t spend time pondering these issues. I have been sitting in circles with college students scaling the mountain of race relations for nearly fifteen years. When I do the math, it turns out that I have either facilitated or observed close to 1,000 small group conversations on the topic. Given all of the straight talk and sensitivity, breakdowns and breakthroughs that have occurred on my watch, I can say that there have been no topics too small or too large for us. We talk in earnest about everything from who can call their hair “nappy,” to the nature of historical trauma, to how different cultural groups bathe, raise their kids, and think about the future. I thought DNA ancestry testing would be a welcome addition to our conversational repertoire.

So when Sam offered the opportunity to take such a DNA test (www.ancestrybydna.com) as part of the SOC 119 curriculum, I expected the experience to catalyze the weekly discussion groups in ways that we had never seen. Each student received an estimate of the proportions of their heritage drawn from West African, West European, East Asian, and Native American population groups. Most were shocked to discover that at least two-thirds of them are some “mix” that they did not anticipate. I expected that this surprise would naturally begin the process of dismantling the unsophisticated views of race to which Americans hold so tightly in our politics, our policies, and our personal relationships.

Wrong again.

Instead of critiquing the way we categorize a person as “Asian” whose ancestry may include significant influences from other population groups, or someone as “black” when barely half of their ancestry originates from Africa, the vast majority of students focused on their own results. And they exhibited the gamut of emotion that occurs when individuals learn who was chosen to be on the team or to receive the first place prize. One dark-skinned woman excitedly posted the fact that she was “27 percent European” on her away message, while one light-skinned woman angrily destroyed the CD containing her results when she discovered her ancestry to be 100 percent West European. But this wasn’t meant to be a contest to see who was in and who was out.

So much for the lesson plans.

In almost every instance, my attempts to initiate a discussion of the test were met with unusually curt replies. “The test makes no difference,” I heard over and over again. “I know who I am; a blood test won’t change anything,” many huffed. “People won’t treat me any differently because of the results,” others insisted, “so what’s the point?” This was the tenor of comments I even heard from the teaching assistants who recognized the value in untamed conversations of all varieties and who had been willing to go with me into the wildest terrain. These were not individuals who participated on the margins; these were the ones who jumped in and got wet.

I didn’t get it. Genetic science seemed poised to tear down our accepted racial categories on a massive scale by revealing the false groupings that we follow like a religion—and everyone was acting uninterested. All I wanted was for us to ponder what it could mean if science was showing us that the way we classify our groups is inaccurate, or to explore what might happen if we realized that few of us wear our precise racial affiliations on our sleeves (as so many of us believe), or to picture how things would be different if we had to ask for this information when we met someone (as opposed to determining it haphazardly for ourselves in the time it takes to notice them rushing by to catch a train).

No one seemed to care about all of that.

But finally, I have begun to make sense of the collective malaise I encountered. One insight came last semester when a student posed an intriguing question to one of the discussion groups. He asked, “How would we treat each other if we came together without the baggage of our respective histories?” The consensus was that, without our histories, none of us would be who we are. So the thought experiment was impossible, the group concluded.

Click.

I got it. The ancestry testing did not even begin to discredit our concept of race simply because…it couldn’t. We don’t know how to live without the dividing lines that we have inherited to define us. We don’t know how to identify ourselves or how to recognize one another without them. So we have no choice but to side-step new information, dutifully fitting ourselves “into” the only available categories—even when we sense that those categories are wrong.

So it seems that DNA ancestry testing is a mirror. And if we dare to behold its reflection, we get to see how little imagination we have when it comes to race, and how much we resist living without our familiar fault lines. But genetic science has found its way to the surface and is now demanding that we respond to its challenges with something more substantial than our worn stories and stereotypes.

Unfortunately, what I see every day is that individuals of all colors share a propensity toward provincial views, overly simplified assessments of issues, and thinly veiled prejudices about other groups. That means we are walking together on the edge of a perilous cliff with few among us of any color prepared to truly assess the landscape we are facing. Many seem resigned to waiting for a lightening bolt for direction—like the student who poignantly stated, “It will probably take something a lot bigger than a DNA test to really change my outlook on race and racial issues.” All I could imagine was September 11th. That was the last time I thought something large enough had happened to begin to shift the dynamic of race relations in this culture. I thought it had to offer us a clearer vision of ourselves.

I was wrong then too.

So I’ve learned that what really matters are the tiny epiphanies that happen off stage, one at a time, when one person comes to see what another person sees and they view the world with the same eyes for a moment. In that instant, all who are present feel the ground breaking beneath their feet because, when we have the opportunity to witness a change of heart live, we know something profound is happening.

Of course, these singular awakenings turn out to be more about effort and grace than about lesson plans. But I am convinced that they do more to undermine the tangles of our bigotry than the more dramatic events that we all keep mistaking for the cure. That is why I continue to sit in conversation circles, doing my part to unravel our knotty multicultural macramé, person-by-person, story-by-story—because, as my students and a DNA test have so convincingly demonstrated to me, there are just no shortcuts to undoing the breadth of our illusions.

I don’t think I’m wrong about that.

Laurie

A Side Note About "White Power" and Our Political System

I found a seven minute video that offers an interesting analysis of "power" as it is related to our political system. I think it is worth viewing; it will provoke some outside-the-box thinking.

As you watch, however, keep in mind the following:

Politics is all about how people manage the concentration of power in any system. Myriad decisions must be made in every large collectivity and it is impossible for all members to participate equally in each and every one of them. Consider the many collective resources that we all utilize: waste removal and clean-up, water purification and delivery, electrical generation, road construction and maintenance. This list is long and increasingly convoluted.

And because it is impossible for everyone to have a say in every aspect of collective (i.e., governmental) services, we must find ways for individuals and groups to "represent" the interests of the collectivity as a whole. Think about how EVERY organization has leaders who meet and make untold numbers of decisions on behalf of the that organization. There are always too many decisions to make for us to arrange an organization (or collectivity) in any other way.

But how do we select those representatives? How do we decide which individuals or groups will sit at the head of the table and think and act on everyone's behalf?

For most government positions in the U.S. we do this with elections. But how do we determine who has an opportunity to run for one of these positions? If they meet select criteria such as certain minimum age requirements or legal residency of a state or district, any citizen is eligible to run for any office. All they need to do is get their name out to the voting populace and convince those people to vote for them.

And that's the difficult part, of course, because that requires money--lots of money for major elections (i.e., positions of greater power). People who are wealthy can largely self-finance their elections on their own (e.g., Mayor Bloomberg in New York City who is a billionaire) while people without money can turn to other individuals and groups for help. Turning to masses of individuals is ideal--get everyone involved and expand the democratic base--but it takes a lot of effort and upfront money to convince isolated people to donate small amounts of cash. So what generally happens is that candidates turn to fewer numbers of wealthier individuals and groups who can contribute larger amounts. But here's the catch.

Few people give money with no strings attached. Would you donate to a campaign without concern for the specific policies that a candidate will pursue once elected? Probably not. And who could blame you for wanting something in return for your hard earned cash?

And so we have very well-organized and powerful groups contributing the bulk of the funds for political campaigns that each year are more and more expensive, and to the exclusive parties that each season are more and more lavish. It is not difficult to imagine that every one of these groups, let's say the "telecommunications industry," has legislation pending before Congress that could lead to millions or billions of dollars in profits or losses, depending on how bills are written. While this legislation may or may not be in the public's interest, it is always in the interest of the companies footing the bill for those campaigns and parties. Why else would they do it.

So what about race?

Take a look at the video at the end of this essay. Look at the people partying at the exclusive venues during the Democratic and Republican National Conventions. What's their racial background? They're nearly all white. It's a club that does not deliberately exclude black and brown people, but white people established the criteria for membership many years ago and seem to be inclined to reserve the few spaces that open to their friends and relatives--who more often than not are white.

This is not to say that there are no black and brown people with power. Far from it. half of all black Americans are middle class, after all. But the people who occupy those special seats of power, the people who make decisions that move millions and billions of dollars into and out of various private coffers, are mostly white. This is something that has not changed much over the years.

Is this going to change if Obama is working out of the Oval Office? You watch the video and respond to that question yourself.

For those who watched the conventions, compare your memories of the extremely "colorful" Democratic National Convention with the images (from the video) of the exclusive parties in downtown Denver where the DNC was held. All the darker skinned people seem to have been inside the convention and not at these parties where the "wheeling and dealing" was happening. That's odd for a party of "inclusion." The RNC in Minneapolis was almost entirely white, so the same contrast doesn't hold--they have no need to pretend.

Finally, keep in mind that this video was produced by ABC which is owned by Disney and is a massive media conglomerate. You might wonder why it is that they would show something that so clearly appears to undermine that corporation's ability to shape the decision-making of our political leadership. I'll let you answer it for yourself.

VIDEO

To My Students:

I’m going to write about Obama in these blogs (just as I will discuss him in my race class) because of the sheer historical significance of his candidacy with regard to race relations. But in order to do so freely, without parts of my discussion being misread as a political endorsement, let me explain some things about the way I vote.

I have never missed casting my ballot in a presidential election in my thirty years of legal adulthood. And as a student of political sociology for nearly all of that time, I do the research and I take my vote very seriously.

This year, as we have candidates who are not white and male running in both major parties, we are clearly faced with an opportunity to advance this nation culturally, keeping us in step with most of the world’s more industrialized countries (and many less developed ones) that have already elected racial minorities or women to their highest seats of power. Furthermore, whether we put Barack Obama or Sarah Palin into office, this election will influence how we see all women or all people of color in both subtle and not so subtle ways. Speaking as a sociologist, this is fascinating to contemplate. Speaking as a person whose work involves building bridges between balkanized racial and ethnic groups, it is groundbreaking.

And yet, as I examine the gravity of all of the issues we face, I am left to conclude that the value of cracking one of these twin glass ceilings cannot alone determine the way I cast my ballot. In my view, we need a party that is willing to truly tackle the issues of terrorism and war, depletion of natural resources, the explosion of the world’s population and the deepening of global poverty—and to do so in radically different ways. I don’t mean spinning words to attract constituents. I’m talking about actually encouraging and carrying out system transformation.

Unfortunately, the differences between our two major parties on all of the issues are mostly cosmetic and rhetorical. It might appear as though their differences are significant—why else would their respective members be arguing with one another so vociferously? But I see two parties that are sponsored by and answerable to the same power base—and, for me, that adds up to little expectation for change when we most need it. The following are two broad issues that are of particular concern to me. But there are others:

Natural Resources. I’m not talking about the prices of gas or heating fuel or the sudden spike in airfares. I’m talking about sustaining life on this planet. I think the data we have about global climate change is sobering. Most of it does not appear to be hysterical exaggeration. And I think we are foolish not to genuinely heed this warning. We need to begin by severing the ties between corporations and politicians who are bought and sold in the basements and back rooms of congressional buildings, the White House, and K Street. Because I think this is so essential to making decisions that have the people and the planet in mind, I have never voted for a candidate who is not committed to and capable of putting natural resources ahead of short-term profits.

War and Terrorism. The United States produces and sells more military weapons than the next eight top weapons manufacturing nations combined, and we spend more money on our military than the militaries of the twenty-five next most powerful countries in the world. War will always occur and there will always be threats to our national security. But we can only avert these threats if we cease supporting a military industrial complex whose profits are unfortunately rooted in waging war (and threatening the national security of other nations). In other words, we must stop ourselves before it is too late. Imagine a nuclear bomb in New York City. This doesn’t have to happen. But it is the outcome we are likely to witness if our leaders do not shrink the size of the military industrial complex and curtail the proliferation of weapons. I have never voted for a candidate who does not see this as crucial for our protection and survival.

For my entire voting life, I have observed that neither of the major parties has substantively addressed these (and other) critical issues. And once again in 2008, neither party has made history with their platforms because they are still beholden to vested and powerful interests that maintain the perilous status quo. They have only made history with the faces of their candidates. This is not insignificant, to be sure, but I have to cast my vote for more than that, for a future, for a sustainable world that we can actually live in.

Sam

An Account of Hope

Do I think Barack Obama is going to change Washington if he gets elected? No. Do I think he will bring America to greatness? No. Do I think that his entrance onto the national stage has a kind of power to transform race relations? Possibly.

My mother just called. She waited until she was sure I would be awake to tell me that she has been “crying all morning,” evidently still hung over from the elevation she experienced last night.

“This is one of the best experiences I’ve had in my life,” she said. “I could die tomorrow knowing I have seen this happen…I feel so glad to be alive to experience this.” Those are her words about listening to Barack Obama’s speech at the Democratic National Convention. I was scribbling them down as she spoke because I sensed what was happening was big. Her voice broke into tears even in the telling.

When Martin Luther King stood in Washington and talked about his dream, my mom was not there. She was a twenty-one year old newlywed, living in an apartment in New Jersey, working at an insurance company. She probably had no idea it was happening. She is one who remembers vividly the assassination of John F. Kennedy, but little else on the national stage. She was never part of a movement, hardly even paid attention to political campaigns. Her focus was kids and caretaking. Only this past spring did we discuss how frightened she was in 1967 during the racial uprising in Newark—the worst of the devastation having occurred only a few miles from where we lived. But forty-five years, four children, six grandchildren and one day after Martin Luther King’s historic speech, my mom has been moved to heights of enthusiasm and commitment that I’ve never seen in her. And frankly, I think her hyperbole of passion may not be hyperbole at all.

As she watched Obama’s acceptance speech alone, jumping up and down, screaming, with tears running down her face, she was reacting to an image of multiculturalism that genuinely moved her, a spirit of partnership and possibility between people that captivated her—and many like her. “You have to be a stone not to feel it,” she declared this morning. And though I am more restrained in my view of the Obama phenomenon because of its foundation in a political horse race, I am still left wondering where this deep chord of hope struck in my mom—and other people like her—might actually lead us, and what these heights of emotion are saying about the relationships we aspire to create.


Laurie

What’s Happening to the Neighborhood?

Michelle Obama made history this week with her appearance at the Democratic National Convention. By sharing an intimate portrait of her life as a member of the Robinson family, her birth family, she solidified just how momentous this election is for race relations in the United States. Aside from the fact that the video montage that helped her to accomplish this was checkered with photos that did not include a single white person, those photos were essentially the same images that most every Middle American white family has in their own albums. You know the kind of photos—a little girl riding her first bike, eating an ice cream cone while it melts down her hand, hugging her elderly grandparent and smiling into the camera. One could almost hear the delight and the affection and the laughter pouring forth from the images of Michelle and her family. It was classic Americana, the “dream” unfolding right before our eyes. The Robinsons, it turns out, lived and loved one another just like millions of white families do. And Michelle even epitomized the ultimate in Americana—she watched the Brady Bunch religiously.

Why is all of this momentous? Because Americans still suffer from not really knowing one another. And because most white Americans still have no close friends or family members who are black or brown, and most have never stepped inside of a household of black or brown people. Although many will protest this characterization, it is sadly true. So we have not seen firsthand the parallels in our intimate worlds. We live like aliens in the same land. And though we might assume a modicum of commonality in our respective communities, most of us have not confirmed this for ourselves. The Cosby Family was a classic fictional attempt to make the point for us. But the Robinsons are real. The Obamas are even more real. And now, as white Americans are peering inside the intimate space of black and brown America through the unparalleled media presence of the almost-first Obama family, we are encountering the ultimate “look who’s moving into the neighborhood” moment for this country. And something novel is bound to result. In fact, this nation will never be the same if it occurs.

Even though television can only show us the surface of things in the Obama family, white America is likely to apply this new perspective to other black families living just down the street or across town or in an adjacent community. And as they do, we will all become participants in the most far-reaching “contact theory” experiment ever undertaken. Social scientists know that prejudice diminishes when the degree of contact increases between members of groups that fear or dislike or simply do not know one another. So this closer view of the Obamas—and black and brown America by extension—will surely assist in breaking down some of the barriers to affiliation, understanding, and alliance-building that still define us. How could this NOT happen? And, more importantly, where will we find ourselves as a people when it does?

Sam and Laurie

To My Fellow Ordinary Americans

We’ve been bombarded by our fair share of stump speeches these days. I’ve heard so many that I’m starting to get the form down. Most fascinating—and most abrasive to me—is the part where I think we are supposed to imagine music coming up softly in the background while a candidate speaks about the "ordinary Americans” they’ve met along the campaign trail. This is the moment when they share their fireside stories of the unstaged encounters they’ve enjoyed with regular folks all across the nation—like Ben from Minnesota who got divorced and lost his job, but gave the last $5 he had in his pocket to the campaign, or 17-year old Jillian from Delaware who was on the list for a heart transplant and whose parents just lost their health insurance, but who is busy telling all of her friends to vote.

I’m sure these authentic moments momentarily revive the ailing heartbeats of these extra-ordinary individuals whose precious hours are spent stumping and sound-byting and strategizing—and, in stolen moments of quiet, wondering who are their true allies and who is just looking to be on the gravy train. It’s not surprising that us velveteen people could bring some overdue fresh air to their increasingly re-circulated oxygen interactions.

We’re just so real in our little lives, aren’t we?

But I'd be more convinced of any candidate’s sincerity if we were given a few anecdotes about other equally ordinary people who just happened to be a few rungs higher up on the ladder of wealth—like Chuck from the Upper West Side of Manhattan who is so inspired for change that he is donating his recent inheritance to urban youth programs around the country that will help to get out the vote, or Reni the Hollywood mogul who just gave $10 million to rural campaign efforts because Obama inspired her desire for unity. Somehow, these equal opportunity anecdotes would be less patronizing.

But this will never happen—because there is a ruling class, and then there are all the rest of us. Every once in a while, the ruling class just needs us little guys to highlight their moral uprightness as they battle for position and power among themselves. But after things are in place again, we become a lot less interesting—and they act less like “public servants” and more like royalty.

As long as the term “ordinary people” continues to be the euphemism for poor schleps like us who happen to be the voting masses, I know that we are heading for more business as usual. Obama’s candidacy may look to be equalizing our racial caste system, but what about the just-as-real class hierarchy—you know, that one that keeps poor people poor by keeping rich people rich. We’d much rather talk about race, wouldn’t we? That way, we don’t come close to threatening the real power brokers—who actually come in all colors. Their positions remain unthreatened. Ironic, given all this talk of “change we can believe in.”

When us ordinary Americans start to examine class as a preeminent national division, making more of us “fellow citizens” than we otherwise think, then the real revolution is here. Until that time, I’d rather skip the rhetoric. And if they really thought about it, I’ll bet Bob and Jillian would feel the same way.

Laurie

To the Adopted Husseins

Bravo. We were both electrified when we learned that you are stretching beyond the oppressive reach of our cultural fear-mongers, and creatively taking action to stand up for the kind of world that makes more sense to you. In the tiny act of symbolically assuming the middle name “Hussein” (in solidarity with Barack Obama), you are daring the rest of us to question our assumptions about Muslims, about Arabs, about many things that we define as “foreign.” However, there is something important that you may be missing, that lots of people seem to be missing these days.

In the New York Times article about the bold step each of you has taken, Ashley “Hussein” Holmes was quoted as saying that she has “such a vanilla, white-girl American name.” That comment troubled us because these days it is fairly typical to make derogatory comments about white people. And we notice that such comments play in an alluringly hip kind of a way. In fact, if you identify as white and anti-racist, it is actually fashionable to offhandedly hate on white people and white culture—and to not blink while doing so. In fact, no one blinks. We think this has nearly become a rite of passage to achieving anti-racist status if you’re white. But this seems to be throwing out the proverbial baby with the bathwater. Yes, the name “Ashley Holmes” may reveal something of your white cultural background—just like “Hussein” provides insight into Barack Obama’s heritage. But if you are going to stand up against hatred and bigotry and small-mindedness, then stand up for everyone—and without backhandedly putting some group down. (And by the way, Ashley, one of us writing this actually assumed that you were black by the sound of your name. Interesting, huh?)

So, it’s our turn to dare you. We dare you to think about the subtle ways white culture and white people are becoming something like the new minstrels. Sure, many think that white people have it coming to them—so they should just “suck it up” and accept the lampooning. But we’re not talking about comedy. We’re referring to the deep dis-identification that white people are being asked to make with themselves in order to take on a position that seeks and supports social justice. That is not social justice. That is just another form of ignorance. After all, social justice is not a zero sum game. We don’t have to lift up one culture, any culture, at the expense of another. Those kinds of approaches always fail—with terrible misery in their wake (think: Israel and Palestine).

All of you who have become honorary Husseins are in the vanguard of a new generation of Americans who are poised to make new demands on this culture and its people, challenging us to define ourselves based on something other than our deeply polarized, historical divisions. In fact, this is what rests at the core of your symbolic act.

We’re not asking you to “respect your heritage” in a Dinesh D’Souza sort of way. But we think that making fun of your culture is not going to truly bring you closer to other cultures. It will just keep you in denial of who you are—and eventually that will get old. Besides, it’s not going to make you any more cool. The coolest white people we know have figured out how to support the humanity and interesting cultural customs of all people—without denying or downplaying the fact that they are white. From what we’ve seen, we think you all are smart and creative enough—and cool enough—to do that.

Laurie and Sam

To Those Who Encounter Difference

Let’s just admit it to one another: Our differences make us uncomfortable. They make us question ourselves; they make us question the way we are living. And that is why we usually surround ourselves with people who we think are “like us.” Republicans with Republicans. Jews with Jews. Homeschoolers with homeschoolers. I guess when we have our tribes surrounding us, we don’t have to question who we are as often. Evidently, differences are just not handled well in the social world.

But still we are counseled to celebrate diversity. I don’t know how you feel, but difference is rarely a celebration zone as far as I can tell. It is a work zone, an alchemical zone, a wild and raucous place where what we define as different actually becomes a pressure to transform. And we don’t usually think it’s in our interest to be transformed. Just think about Republicans and Democrats. Few of them get close enough to be affected by one another’s views, and few would look too kindly on becoming more like the other.

So when we encounter something different from us, one of two things usually happens—someone assimilates or we battle for dominion. The third option is less typical. It involves people living in the tension of opposites, embracing the dynamic discomfort of dissimilar ways of being. It involves the ability to maintain one’s own course in the midst of all the other fish swimming upstream.

When this kind of inner transformation happens (and it does), we are likely to no longer interpret that original difference as “different.” We have grown so much larger that what was formerly a foreign quality is now encompassed within ourselves. Think about couples. Very often, these formerly independent individuals begin to talk alike, act alike, even think alike. That kind of shift can be hard work when there’s no incentive like romance to fuel us. And it’s too much for most of us, even on our best day.

Maybe we should be told to “endure diversity unless you want to do the gritty work of expanding yourself.” Maybe that would be a better proscription. At least it would be more accurate.

I’m not suggesting that we not do this inner work, or that we turn away from opportunities for self expansion. I’m just observing our ever-present tendency to create tribes and to be fundamentally uninterested in ways that are unfamiliar. I think this tendency is important to note, maybe even to honor. We can’t force ourselves to cross a river if we don’t have the know-how or the tools or the gumption. Sometimes we just have to make camp on the bank. Sometimes that just makes a lot more sense.

Most people who I know and love have children. I don’t. That essentially puts our lives at odds. We make different choices. We have different opportunities. We like different things. We feel different things. I’m usually okay with that. But sometimes when we come together, and they are caring for their kids or talking about being a parent, or making life choices that account for private school or family time, I feel a detectable sense of discontent—like I should have similar concerns, like their focus may just be more important than mine. Or vice versa. I sometimes think that their concerns are narrow or self-centered. Either way I go on this, once those differences become particularly distinct, I either have to change or retreat to my tribe.

Consider how you react when your ways are different from the ways of the people you encounter. It is likely that you are left feeling uneasy too. You may examine your worth or you may examine theirs. And then you are likely to think—however subconsciously—that either you should be different or they should be different, that you should assimilate or they should. Either way, that push to eliminate the “differentness” relieves the momentary tension. (It takes your focus away from the discomfort you feel because you are being asked to stretch.) But it circumvents the very fact of our differences—that you believe in this and I believe in that, that you do it this way and I do it that way, or that I feel this and you feel that.

So though we always have the choice to either make tribes or expand our definitions of ourselves, most times we make tribes—and then we act as if we’re in enemy territory when encountering someone from the other tribe. I think it would help immensely if we recognized this everyday tribe-making as a quality of being human and refrained from characterizing ourselves as essentially “bad” because of it. Sometimes, I feel gleeful when I transcend my tribal thinking, but there are other times when there is a power, a deep sense of belonging, that comes with being a member of a group. My sense is that these polarities are two sides of the same coin. So it makes sense to make allowances for this, don’t you think? Of course, we should attempt to stretch beyond our limits, but we should also honor when we’ve stretched as far as we can.

Laurie and Sam.

To Ralph Nader

We've always admired your critiques of the power structure. But this past week, when you blasted Barack Obama for pandering to “liberal white Americans" by trying not to be “politically threatening to the white power class and the liberal intelligentsia,” we think you got it wrong. You critiqued Obama for not campaigning "as Jesse Jackson did," saying that you think he somehow should be, or naturally would be, interested in the issues of black people, pointing specifically to inner city poverty.

Your basic idea about Obama's increasing centrism was sound and actually not very extreme or even provocative. You were simply arguing that he is a middle-of-the-road politician, a mainstream moderate who is unwilling to challenge the power elite. This is the same critique you level at all "Demapublicans" and "Republicrats"; it mirrors your life-long political ideology.

But sadly, you fell on your face when you needlessly brought race into your analysis. Had you simply discussed the ways in which Obama is allowing himself to be coddled by political and economic elites, then you would have remained on solid ground. But when you made references to Obama being black, you lost your footing and revealed a naive understanding of race, a (perhaps) unexplored bias.

We don't think it's wrong to talk about race. But in this case, your essential argument stands on its own whether Obama is black, brown, or white. It is fundamentally about your belief that Obama, for all of his talk about change, is unwilling to truly pursue deep system transformation. And that is something worth examining.

Your critique has nothing to do with Obama's ancestry. But it sounds like you have mistaken him for being a representative of black people. And you've got to know that assuming that all people of any one group have the same agenda regardless of class is way off the mark. After all, half of all African Americans are middle class--not poor, not disenfranchised. Do you think they really want radical structural change? Probably not. So when you critique Obama as "a black candidate," you lose sight of your own argument--that he is a "mainstream candidate."

Mr. Nader, we're fairly certain that you don't expect to find yourself in the White House next year. So it seems important to this nation that you participate in the campaign in a way that forwards the cause of change, your cause for change. We think your critiques have the power to do that. But your own racial bias got you stuck in a corner that will only serve to marginalize you and your non-partisan views. If you had stuck with what was at the core of your message, you could have offered a challenge to Obama and his supporters that they would have had to address--that following the path of saddling up to more and more elites, Obama will not have the latitude to to bring about any significant change, regardless of his intent or message.

Instead you got lost in the netherworld of race. And often, people don't come back from there.

Sam and Laurie