20th Century Strategy for a 21st Century Nation: Whiteness as Mass Appeal

20^thCentury Strategy for a 21^st  Century Nation: Whiteness as Mass Appeal

by David J. Leonard | NewBlackMan (in Exile)

The 2012 election, like every election before it, has been defined by race. This is America, and race always matters. Death, taxes, and race. While 2008-2012 has prompted more explicit racial assault on then candidate and ultimately President Obama, race, racism, and white supremacy defines the history of American politics. Sister Souljah, Willie Horton, anti-Muslim appeals, demonization of undocumented immigrants, "the welfare queen," the southern strategy, and countless other examples point to the ways that race defines American political campaigns. And these are just examples since the late 1960s from national presidential campaigns.

Yet the vitriol, the explicit racial appeals, and the ubiquitous racial rhetoric has been a noteworthy outcome of the 2012 election. Adele M. Stan, in "Romney Pushed Boundaries of 'Acceptable Racism' to Extremes" aptly describes the campaign as a long and winding campaign of racism, one that irrespective of the outcome has had its consequences:

If asked what one thing about the 2012 campaign most impacted everyday American life, one answer stands out above all others: racism. The wink-wink racial coding Romney uses, combined with the unabashed racism of such surrogates as former Bush administration chief of staff John Sununu, adds up to quite a wash of race-baited waters over the campaign. Then add to that the steady stream of racist rhetoric that characterized the Republican presidential primary campaign, and the wash looks more like a stew set on simmer for the better part of a year.

Since the early months of 2011, our politics have been marinating in the language of racial hatred, whether in former U.S. senator Rick Santorum's "blah people" moment, or former House speaker Newt Gingrich's tarring of Barack Obama as "the food stamp president."

The consequences and context of a campaign based in racism, based in a thirty-year racial assault on the civil rights movement is fully visible in AP's recent poll, which found that both explicit and implicit racial bias against African Americans and Latinos is on the rise. According to the AP, "51 percent of Americans now express explicit anti-black attitudes," which was a 3 percent rise since 2008. When examining implicit bias, "the number of Americans with anti-black sentiments jumped to 56 percent, up from 49 percent during the last presidential election." Should we be surprised?

The likes of John Sununu and Donald Trump, the sight of racist t-shirts and posters at GOP rallies and elsewhere, and the explicitly racist discourse point to the strategy of racist appeals and the consequences of such appeals. The impact of racism isn't simply voters picking Mitt Romney because of their anti-black racism, or even the ways that the accusations against President Obama as a "food stamp president," as "lazy" as a "socialist" and as "anti-White" resonate because of an entrenched white racial frame, but in the yearning and appeal of a white male leader. Race doesn't just matter in why whites are voting against President Obama but also why they are voting for Mitt Romney. Tom Scocca, in "Why Do White People Think Mitt Romney Should Be President?" argues that anti-black racism, dog "whistles" and prejudice isn't the only reason why white males are casting their vote for Romney-Ryan but because they are white and because white masculinity is associated with toughness, leadership, intelligence, and countless other racial stereotypes. "White people -- white men in particular -- are for Mitt Romney. White men are supporting Mitt Romney to the exclusion of logic or common sense. Without this narrow, tribal appeal, Romney's candidacy would simply not be viable. Most kinds of Americans see no reason to vote for him."

Chauncey DeVega describes the centrality of whiteness, of the sense of loss resulting from a black president, and therefore explicit appeal of a white president.

Despite their great advantages in wealth, income, power, social mobility, resources, and all other socioeconomic measures, many white people-- especially white male conservatives --are terrified and upset by the symbolic power of a black man who happens to be President of the United States. Ultimately, White Masculinity is imperiled by the idea of Barack Obama. White men rule this country; ironically, no group of people, especially on the Right are as insecure," he notes. "In the Age of Obama, White Masculinity imagines itself as at risk and obsolete. Because of their authoritarian streak, white conservative men must have control of women and the Other. White Conservative Masculinity's overreaction to the Age of Obama, and the social and political gains of people who are not white, male, and straight, are a function of this standing decision rule.

The cultural imagination of the white savior; the historic elevation of white men as shining knights, as war heroes, as protectors, as problem-solvers, and as leaders is on full display within this election. It is the same ideology that governed the founding principles of republicanism, which saw white men as the one and only capable of self-governance. It is the same ideology that under-girds American exceptionalism, Manifest Destiny, and "white man's burden." In 1899, Rudyard Kipling penned, the White Man's Burden:

Take up the White Man's burden-- Send forth the best ye breed-- Go bind your sons to exile To serve your captives' need; To wait in heavy harness, On fluttered folk and wild-- Your new-caught, sullen peoples, Half-devil and half-child.

Take up the White Man's burden-- In patience to abide, To veil the threat of terror And check the show of pride; By open speech and simple, An hundred times made plain To seek another's profit, And work another's gain.

Take up the White Man's burden-- The savage wars of peace-- Fill full the mouth of Famine And bid the sickness cease; And when your goal is nearest The end for others sought, Watch sloth and heathen Folly Bring all your hopes to nought.

Take up the White Man's burden-- No tawdry rule of kings, But toil of serf and sweeper-- The tale of common things. The ports ye shall not enter, The roads ye shall not tread, Go mark them with your living, And mark them with your dead.

It is that "burden"; it is that arrogance, it is that belief that only white mean can save civilization, can save America, can bring people together, can change the economy, that unifies the Romney campaign. It is the same racist and sexist logic that justified segregation in the military and positional segregation in sports. The appeal of Mitt Romney mirrors the appeal of white quarterbacks within the white imagination. The privileging of white male as quarterbacks and the exclusion of African Americans from this position "has implications off the football field. The discrimination dynamic that surrounds the issue of Black leadership on the turf reflects the greater racism that shapes our entire society," writes Dave Zirin. Racism, which questions black intelligence, which imagines leadership as incongruous to racial Otherness, to women, is foundational to American racial ideology. The 2012 election is just another piece of evidence of how far we haven't come. I don't know the outcome in terms of vote tallies and the next president, but I do know this: the 2012 campaign proved that like the twentieth, the nineteenth, the and the 18th centuries ... the "problem of the twenty-first century will be the color line" although it is a color line created, maintained, and for the sake of white men.

***

David J. Leonard is Associate Professor in the Department of Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies at Washington State University, Pullman. He is the author of the just released After Artest: Race and the War on Hoop (SUNY Press) as well as several other works. Leonard is a regular contributor to NewBlackMan, layupline, Feminist Wire, and Urban Cusp. He is frequent contributor to Ebony, Slam, and Racialicious as well as a past contributor to Loop21, The Nation and The Starting Five. He blogs @No Tsuris.

Teen Wolf and the Invisibility of Whiteness

Teen Wolf and the Invisibility of Whiteness

by Heidi Renee Lewis | special to NewBlackMan (in Exile)

Let me clear about some things. White people have a race. White people have various ethnicities. By golly, white people have a gender and sexuality, even when they're white, male, and heterosexual! I know this disturbs the dominant worldview that suggests they don't (and that when those "issues" come up, they're irrelevant to white people), but I'm not the first to acknowledge that, and know I won't be the last. 

In response to recent critiques of the racial makeup of the cast on MTV’s Teen Wolf, Jeff Davis, creator and writer on the show, said, "I have also always said I will not make Teen Wolf an 'issues' show." That's funny, Mr. Davis, because I thought securing and maintaining the safety of your loved ones was an issue. I thought balancing the relationships you have and the secrets you keep with people you love was an issue. I thought that finding your place in the world or even within your own social space was an issue. Oh, wait...you meant those pesky li'l issues about race, gender, and sexuality?  Heaven forbid we ever acknowledge in popular discourse that they tend to converge from time to time. Oh, you meant you just don't wanna mess with thoseissues. 

Along those lines, Davis continued, "If I skirt the issues of race and sexual politics, the reason is most likely that I don't feel like I'm going to be very good at tackling those issues within a show about teenage werewolves. I don't really know how to write those stories." Newsflash, Mr. Davis, the story lines on Teen Wolf are not race, gender, and sexuality free. No story ever is, even when it's about white, straight, men. You ARE writing those stories. You have white male characters on your show that are very much sexual. In fact, the writing by you, Monica Macer, Jeff Vlaming, Daniel Sinclair, Nick Antosca, Ned Vizzini, and whoever else writes and/or contributes in some way to the show is very much influenced by the existing race, gender, and sexual politics we live with in today's U.S. The good thing for you is that you don't ever have to talk about it explicitly. You don't ever have to name it. You don't ever have to worry about it being named (until now). You can call your show "just a show about people" and have "people" stand-in for white and not expect anyone to bat an eyelash.

Now, if you really thought you couldn't do justice to a black character because you aren't a black writer (and didn't want to bother scouring the country trying to find one), why even throw Boyd into the show? Who are you trying to appease? Why not actually lobby for MTV to hire some writers who are "better" than you (your words, not mine) that could? Listen, I know Shonda Rhimes is quite busy. So are the Akils. So, was Kia Corthron unavailable? Saladin Patterson? Kathleen Anderson? Yes, I know these are heavy-hitters, but I think you could do better...if you wanted to. If you didn't want to, just say you didn't want to. The truth, my friend, shall set you free as they say.

You also said, "I'm here first and foremost to entertain." Well, along those lines, I just have another question, but bear with me as I get to it. Black folks comprise just 12% of households in the U.S. However, the last time Nielsen did a study (in 2004), they found that black households watch more TV than any other household, even during prime time and ad-supported cable, when and where your show actually airs. Black households even watch general drama more than any other household, and while your show may not easily be classified as a general drama, it's that more than it's sitcom, documentary, or any other genre that Nielsen studies.

Now, as faulty as these studies may be, I'd think a guy like you would want to pay attention to them for obvious reasons. So, my question is this: If you don't think you're equipped to write about black people, why do you think you're equipped to entertain them? Oh, right. Because when TV people claim that we're writing universal stories that appeal to everyone, what you really mean is that you're gonna throw a bunch of white people behind and in front of the camera and the rest of us non-white people just have to deal with it. Because I mean, hey, your issues are our issues, but as you said, our issues aren't yours. The problem for you now is that we don't EVEN have to just sit back and shut up about it. 

Seriously, though, why not just call a spade a spade? If you want to write a show that is created by and features mostly white people, do it! I mean, what am I writing? You did do it! And even as we critique you, you'll keep doing it! You and Lena Dunham (creator and star of HBO's Girls) can huddle up in a corner and complain about the fact that people are being critical of you and your programs when all you wanted to do was make an entertaining television show that everyone can enjoy. That's, in some ways, cool and all, but wait a minute. All I'm asking is that you, Dunham, other writers, the various networks that give your programs a home, and viewing audiences (both active and passive) stop crying foul and telling yourselves that you're being unfairly criticized. Hey, you write for TV. We watch TV. We study TV. We critique TV. What's the old adage? If you can't take the heat, stay out of the kitchen.

Finally, you wrote, "When we send out breakdowns for cast it always says, 'All ethnicities.'" Now, Mr. Davis, why would you even play that game if you KNOW you're going to eliminate any (or most) characters of color, because you're too lazy to do your research and use your imagination to fully develop them? The next time you send out breakdowns for cast, make sure it reads, "Only white male characters, because I'm not smart enough to write any other kind." That would be the actual truth of the matter. Your words, not mine.

***

Heidi R. Lewis is an Assistant Professor of Feminist & Gender Studies at Colorado College.  Her teaching and research focuses on feminism, gender and sexuality, women’s writing, African American literature and culture, Critical Race Theory, Critical Whiteness Studies, and Critical Media Studies. 

Olympic Inequalities

Olympic Inequalities

by David J. Leonard | HuffPost Sports

In a recent blog post on The Huffington Post, Kelli Goff dared to ask the unthinkable: "Why Are Some Olympic Sports Whiter Than Others?" Noting the obvious and seeking to understand the absence of people of color from many Olympic sports, Goff attempts to answer why Gabby Douglas, Lia Neal, Jordan Burroughs, Ibtihaj Muhammad, Justin Lester, John Orozco, and Cullen Jones are unusual in the white world of sports. While noting class, environment, differential opportunities (I explore this aspect here), and countless other factors, Goff stays clear of racism:

Before the eye rolling begins, this is not a column about rampant racism in sports. But it is an attempt to understand why some sports end up predominated by one racial group versus others, and the long-term social and cultural implications of such segregation on the field, court, or gymnastics mat.

Despite her attempt to push the conversation away from racism in sports (and beyond), there has been ample resistance from readers. The truth is hard to hear. The reason why America's Olympic team is overwhelmingly white, the reason why there are so few athletes of color within many Olympics sports, is the persistent impact of racism, segregation, and institutional violence.

Embodying class inequalities, a history of discrimination, and the realities of residential segregation, many Olympic sports are dominated by whites because the spaces, the neighborhoods, the schools and the very institutions that produce those recreational and elite athletes are racially segregated. Whether swimming, diving, or gymnastics, the pipeline to the Olympics is one where youth of color find difficult entry, if not outright exclusion.

We see the consequences of inequality and segregation as it relates to our high school sports, our recreation, leisure, and play. Research has shown that people of color and particularly lower-income communities have fewer opportunities for physical activity. For example, several studies published within the American Journal of Preventive Medicine(AJPM) found "that unsafe neighborhoods, poor design and a lack of open spaces and well constructed parks make it difficult for children and families in low-income and minority communities to be physically active."

Likewise, citing the study from Trust for America's Health (TFAH) and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation (RWJF) entitled "F as in Fat: How Obesity Threatens America's Future 2010" Angela Glover Blackwell focuses on the structural impediments to a healthy lifestyle that includes exercise. "As the report illustrates, where we live, learn, work and play has absolutely everything to do with how we live. Low-income families of color are too often disconnected from the very amenities conducive to leading healthier lives, such as clean air, safe parks, grocery stores with fresh fruits and vegetables, and affordable, reliable transportation options that offer access to those parks and supermarkets." Communities of color, and America's poor, are disconnected from the very facilities and resources necessary to become a great champion. Access to pools, coaches, gyms, and healthy foods, remains a dream deferred for communities of color, meaning the dreams of an Olympic birth are all too distant as well.

Robin D.G. Kelley described this predicament in "Playing for Keeps," as part of structural adjustment programs and deindustrialization processes that plague poor communities of color beginning in the 1970s. "Play areas -- like much of the inner city -- have become increasingly fortified by steel fences, wrought-iron gates, padlocks, and razor sharp ribbon wire" (1998, p. 196). Noting that in cities like Cleveland and New York City, which each saw closure of between 40 and 50 million dollars worth of recreation facilities in the late 1970s, Kelley argues that play and spaces of recreation have increasingly only been accessible within middle-class (white) suburban communities.

We have witnessed a growing number of semipublic private spaces like 'people's parks' that require a key ... and highly sophisticated indoor play area that charge admission. The growth of these privatized spaces has reinforced a class segregated play world and created yet another opportunity for investors to profit from the general fear of crime and violence. This, in the shadows of Central Park, Frederick Law Olmsed's great urban vision of class integration and public sociability, high-tech indoor playgrounds such as Wondercamp, Discovery Zone and Playspace, charge admission to eager middle -- and upper-class children whose parents want a safe play environment ... While these play areas are occasionally patronized by poor and working-class black children, the fact that most of these indoor playgrounds are built in well-to-do neighborhoods and charge an admission fee ranging between $5 and $9 dollars prohibits poor families from making frequent visits (1998, p. 202).

A study in Great Britain found not only that neighborhoods that are a majority white are 11 times more likely to have "green space" but also "that people's level of physical activity and health was directly related to affluence and the quality of green space."

Evident in these spaces, pay-to-swim spots, gymnastic facilities, and countless other spaces that contribute to the development of elite athletes are inaccessible to poor communities of color. The consequences of restricting play to the well-to-do communities, of limiting access to recreation, and otherwise maintaining a system of de facto segregation when it comes to physical activity, contributes to an Olympic Movement defined by Jim Crow.

Food and differential access is also part of the answer. Studies ubiquitously illustrate the segregation has effectively cut off poor communities of color from affordable healthy food. Scholars in Australia found individuals living in poor communities have 2.5 times more contact with fast food restaurants than those living in upper-class communities. Equally important, the report highlighted that these stores sell a very limited amount of fresh fruit, vegetables and meat, providing ample processed food. According to John Robbins, people of color are more likely to find foods that are high in fat, salt, refined carbohydrates and sugar compared to whole grains, fresh vegetables and fruits, and organic foods which are difficult if not impossible to procure within many poor urban communities.

A North Carolina study concluded that only 8 percent of black residents lived in close proximity to a supermarket compared to 31 percent of whites. Another study in North Carolina found that the mere presence of at least one supermarket within black neighborhoods had a positive influence on the reducing fat intake (25 increase versus 10 percent for white neighborhoods). And it isn't just about the type of foods, but the cost as well. The Healthy Foods Healthy Communities report noted that on average those smaller convenience stores/gas stations/corner markets that are commonplace within America's urban centers charge between 10-49 percent higher than chain supermarkets. While commercials during the Olympics promote McDonalds and soda as the diet necessary to become a champion (dare I say "the breakfast of champions"), in reality the lack of quality, affordable, and healthy foods in many communities hurts the chances of becoming an elite athlete.

When you combine these realities with inequality in food, the costs of becoming an elite athlete, the demands of moving across the country in search of best coaches (and the financial demands to do such), the differential in sports available in urban versus suburban schools, and countless other issues, we can begin to see an answer to Goff's question.

***

David J. Leonard is Associate Professor in the Department of Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies at Washington State University, Pullman. He has written on sport, video games, film, and social movements, appearing in both popular and academic mediums. His work explores the political economy of popular culture, examining the interplay between racism, state violence, and popular representations through contextual, textual, and subtextual analysis.  Leonard’s latest book After Artest: Race and the Assault on Blackness was just published by SUNY Press in May of 2012.

“America Has Never Been America”: Whiteness, Nostalgia and HBO’s The Newsroom

“America Has Never Been America”: 

Whiteness, Nostalgia and HBO’s The Newsroom

by David J. Leonard | NewBlackMan (in Exile)

There is a speech making its rounds in the blogosphere and on social media that seems to galvanizing (parts of liberal) America.  Unfortunately, it isn’t Malcolm’s “Ballot or the Bullet,” Fannie Lou Hamer’s brilliance at the 1968 Democratic Convention, King’s “Beyond Vietnam” or Fred Hampton’s inspiring language, but rather Jeff Daniels’ monologue at the beginning of HBO’s Newsroom.  Capturing Aaron Sorkin’s propensity for sappy dialogue that is drunk on optimism, this speech also reflects his propensity to see the world through binaries, often erasing the complexities, divisions, and inequalities that define culture, politics, and society.  It also embodies a disturbing level of nostalgia that seems commonplace within televisual culture.  From Mad Men(more discussion here) to Pan-AM, contemporary TV (and film – The Help) is rooted in nostalgia for the past, one that fails to account for the less than idyllic world for people of color, women, the GLBT community, and others whose dreams remain deferred.  

In responding to a young woman’s question about America’s greatness (American Exceptionalism), Will (Daniels) launched into a lengthy monologue:

Will: It's not the greatest country in the world, professor, 

that's my answer.

Moderator [pause]: You're saying—

Will: Yes.

Moderator: Let's talk about—

Will: Fine. [to the liberal panelist] Sharon, the NEA is a loser. Yeah, it accounts for a penny out of our paychecks, but he [gesturing to the conservative panelist] gets to hit you with it anytime he wants. It doesn't cost money, it costs votes. It costs airtime and column inches. You know why people don't like liberals? Because they lose. If liberals are so fuckin' smart, how come they lose so GODDAM ALWAYS!

And [to the conservative panelist] with a straight face, you're going to tell students that America's so starspangled awesome that we're the only ones in the world who have freedom? Canada has freedom, Japan has freedom, the UK, France, Italy, Germany, Spain, Australia, Belgium has freedom. Two hundred seven sovereign states in the world, like 180 of them have freedom.

And you—sorority girl—yeah—just in case you accidentally wander into a voting booth one day, there are some things you should know, and one of them is that there is absolutely no evidence to support the statement that we're the greatest country in the world. We're seventh in literacy, twenty-seventh in math, twenty-second in science, forty-ninth in life expectancy, 178th in infant mortality, third in median household income, number four in labor force, and number four in exports. We lead the world in only three categories: number of incarcerated citizens per capita, number of adults who believe angels are real, and defense spending, where we spend more than the next twenty-six countries combined, twenty-five of whom are allies. None of this is the fault of a 20-year-old college student, but you, nonetheless, are without a doubt, a member of the WORST-period-GENERATION-period-EVER-period, so when you ask what makes us the greatest country in the world, I don't know what the fuck you're talking about?! Yosemite?!!!

As I initially watched this Olberman-esque sermon, I was intrigued, although I didn’t find the information or the argument particularly powerful – it was unusual for mainstream TV.  It also did speak to how whiteness operates, whereupon Will or Sorkin can challenge American Exceptionalism without their patriotism or citizenship being questioned; yet people of color cannot offer these same arguments without denunciation and demonization. My interest quickly turned from frustration to annoyance to disgust to outrage as he continued with his myopic and white-colored lecture:

We sure used to be. We stood up for what was right! We fought for moral reasons, we passed and struck down laws for moral reasons. We waged wars on poverty, not poor people. We sacrificed, we cared about our neighbors, we put our money where our mouths were, and we never beat our chest. We built great big things, made ungodly technological advances, explored the universe, cured diseases, and cultivated the world's greatest artists and the world's greatest economy. We reached for the stars, and we acted like men. We aspired to intelligence; we didn't belittle it; it didn't make us feel inferior. We didn't identify ourselves by who we voted for in the last election, and we didn't scare so easy. And we were able to be all these things and do all these things because we were informed. By great men, men who were revered. The first step in solving any problem is recognizing there is one—America is not the greatest country in the world anymore.

In a blink of an eye, Sorkin transports viewers from the problems of today to a time worthy of celebration and memory.  In erasing the violence, inequality, segregation, dehumanization, and denied rights, the monologue nostalgically imagines an exceptional time in American history.  It offers evidence of and potential for the American Dream; it sees the past as time for meritocracy.  America’s greatness rests with the hard work and perseverance of previous generation.  It exists with a time when anyone could live out his or her dream. At the same time, the show imagined a time where people struggled and triumphed, overcoming obstacles through personal responsibility, hard work, and community.

What a crock; clearly we need to crack open a history book in Hollywood. Ernest Hardy offered his assessment of the clip in a Facebook post:

Ugh. I really, really, really hate this ahistorical bullshit paean to an America that never existed. Every time I watch this clip, I think of Black GI's who were denied the same loans as their white brothers-in-arms when they returned from WWII; of the Black men used as lab rats in Tuskegee to help America reach those dizzying heights of medical breakthroughs; of the Black women who endured all sorts of emotional/sexual/psychological horrors that ‘The Help’ would never have the balls to really detail; I see Medgar Evers' assassinated in his driveway in a warm-up to the murders of Dr. King and Malcolm X. Fuck this angry white dude rewrite and whitewash of history.

His comments and the scene itself made me think of a spoken word piece I wrote a few years ago regarding “the greatest generation” and this commonplace racial amnesia:

The greatest generation

You mean the Jim Crow generation

White only signs, lynchings, and the Klan

You mean the Scottsboro generation

One of many incarcerated from the generations of blacks in American

You mean the sharecropper generation

Debt servitude, enslavement, and no protections

You mean the Tom, Coon and mammy generation

Hollywood representations: Amos, Andy, and Mammy

You mean the Emmett Till generation

Murder a boy for whistling, like so many others

You mean the Japanese internment generation

“No Japs allowed,” excepted in Hawaii and in the military

You mean the atom-bomb generation

Killin 1000s, but none It Italy or Germany

You mean the segregated military generation

German prisoners first, freedom and democracy not for you

You mean the St. Louis generation

A war to save the Jews, just not those on the St. Louis or 1000s others

You mean the McCarthyism generation

Red scares, loyalty oaths, and the absence of dissent

You mean the Zoot Suit Riot generation

Soldiers attacking all who are Mexican

You mean the Bracero program generation

Give us your tired, your exploitable, your cheap

You mean the operation wetback generation

Don’t give your brown, black and yellow

You mean the bordering school generation

‘Speak English,” not the savage tongue of your inferior generations

You mean the white affirmative action generation

GI Bills, suburban homes and white American Dreams

Dreams made for a white generation

You mean the restrictive covenant generation

“Whites only,” America’s ghettos become black and brown

The greatest generation

The greatest generation

1960s youth who stood face to face with Exceptional violence

Who stood toe to toe with police dogs, fire hoses, and COINTELPRO

The greatest generation

Malcolm, Martin, Cesar, Shirley, Cha Cha, Fred

The greatest generation

Fredrick Douglas, David Walker, Sojourner Truth

The greatest generation

Ida B. Wells, Clarence Darrow and Zapata

The greatest generation

Curt Flood, Tommie Smith and Muhammad Ali

The greatest generation

Amzie Moore, Ella Baker, Fannie Lou Hammer

The greatest generation

BPP, Young Lords, TWLF, AIM

The greatest generation

Alcatraz, blowouts, Palante Siempre Palante

The greatest generation

“Serve the people,” “power to the people”

The greatest generation

Hip Hop

The greatest generation

Anti Apartheid

The greatest generation

Carlos Delgado, Etan Thomas, Craig Hodges and Mahmoud Abdul Rauf

The greatest generation

Books not prisons, Books not Bombs

The greatest generation

Walkouts and blowouts,

The greatest generation

Down with 187, 209, 227

The greatest generation?

Ain’t never been THE GREATEST GENERATION TO ME

In other words, despite the nostalgia and the historic amnesia of Newsroom, one that reflects its social location and the refusal to interrogate privilege, America’s exceptionalism isn’t a waning reality in that as noted by Langston Hughes “America has never been America” for countless generations.

***

David J. Leonard is Associate Professor in the Department of Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies at Washington State University, Pullman. He has written on sport, video games, film, and social movements, appearing in both popular and academic mediums. His work explores the political economy of popular culture, examining the interplay between racism, state violence, and popular representations through contextual, textual, and subtextual analysis.  Leonard’s latest book After Artest: Race and the Assault on Blackness was just published by SUNY Press in May of 2012.

Silence, Innocence, and Whiteness: The Undemonization of Kevin Love

Silence, Innocence, and Whiteness: The Undemonization of Kevin Love

by David J. Leonard | NewBlackMan

The Minnesota Timberwolves battled the Houston Rockets this past Saturday.  Normally not on my radar, an incident involving Kevin Love and Luis Scola compelled inquiry even as the media remained silent.  Purportedly frustrated over a non-call, Love not only fouled Scola, but as the Houston power forward lied on the ground Love proceeded to step on his face as he ran back to the offensive end of the court.  “I fell down. He was kind of right there," Love explained. “I got Size-19 feet. He just happened to be there. I had nowhere to go. I got tripped up. I had nowhere to step. It is just heat of the moment-type play.”  The non-explanation aside, Love simultaneously identifies the incident as an accident and justifiable. 

If an accident, why does he feel necessary to describe it as an unfortunate situation or to reference what happen between the two of them in game on Monday? “Love also referenced an unfortunate incident in Houston on Monday, when Scola attempted to throw a ball to deflect it off of Love out of bounds but the ball hit Love square in the groin.” Offering an explanation that seemingly justified his accidental behavior, Love was not alone in the exoneration process.

What followed the game, and the several days since there, has been silence – crickets in fact.  Despite the fact that one of the league’s emerging stars stepped on an opponent’s face, the media has found little reason to write about the event.  References to the event notwithstanding and a series of articles that have asked viewers to weigh in whether it was intentional or not, the overall media discourse has rendered Love’s stomping on an opponent’s face insignificant by its relative silence. 

Even after the NBA announced a 2-game suspension for Love, the sports punditocracy has been muted in its criticism of Love, choosing rather to focus on his apology.  Several headlines noted that in wake of the suspension, he has apologized yet again, having already apologized to Luis Scola following the game.  In headline after headline, Love is constructed as apologetic, even though there is no specific apology provided by any of the news outlets (example #1, example #2).  Instead they reference his statement issued on the team’s website:

“We got to talking about it, and as long as Luis and the Rockets are OK, then I'm OK with it," Love said. "I feel like it was a learning experience, and it won't happen again. There were no ill-intentions. I was trying to get him on a foul on the way up. I wasn't trying to stomp him or anything like that. Just moving forward, and hopefully we win these next few games.

His post practice comments are further illustrative of a lack of contrition and a desire to give explanation rather than apology:

I don't want to be known for that. I want to be known as a stand-up guy who happened to make a mistake with a size 19 shoe and just move on. So everybody knows there were no ill intentions there.  It's been a chippy year.  It's not only us. It's not only the Pacers, the Rockets or anything like that. It's a lot of games. The guys are tired. Games are being drawn out and guys are worn down.

Denying any “ill-intentions,” while describing it as a learning experience, doesn’t constitute an apology.   The lack of criticism, the efforts to explain Love’s actions as resulting from his emotions, out-of-the-ordinary behavior, and otherwise not indicative of Love’s character reflect an overall effort to downplay the importance of his stomping on an opponent’s face.

Compare this response to the recent media criticism directed at Andrew Bynum.  Following Game 4 of the 2011 NBA playoffs, which saw Bynum knock JJ Berea to the floor with a very hard foul, he was lambasted in the media. Called a thug, as player who was ejected for “dirty hits,”  and as a player who exhibited, “stupidity, cowardice and unprofessionalism”; Ken Berger described the play and Bynum specifically in the following way:

Losing is one thing. Getting swept is another. Getting sent home in an utterly uncompetitive blowout is even worse. But nothing is more disgusting than champions acting like punks. Nothing is more embarrassing than a team that cannot lose with dignity.    . . .Bynum, a positive force during much of the series, doesn’t deserve to wear a Lakers uniform again after his unconscionable cheap shot to a defenseless, airborne J.J. Barea in the fourth quarter of a 30-point humiliation. There’s no place for that regardless of the victim, but Bynum violated the No. 1 rule of the schoolyard (where he belongs) and the NBA: Pick on someone your own size. Only punks and losers take aim at those half their size. 

Such vitriol has been no where in the response to Kevin Love.  Others described the play with Bynum as “bush league,” as “dirty”, as “classless acts” that are repulsive and without any valid excuse.” Bynum was also suspended for 5 games as a result of his play during the Western conference semifinals, yet for some this wasn’t close to enough of a punishment. 

A similar level of outrage and demonization was evident following an incident involving Ndamukong Suh, who was unmercilessly condemned as “dirty”as not “just dirty, but filthy.”   The efforts to demonize Suh and to use the on-the-field incident as a referendum on Suh’s character and values stands in stark contrast to the tepid and excuse-ridden response to Kevin Love.

The systematic excuse machine embodies the sporting world’s wages of whiteness and the hegemony of anti-black racism.  It is the embodiment of Peggy McIntosh’s invisible knapsack, who described white privilege in the following way:

I have come to see white privilege as an invisible package of unearned assets that I can count on cashing in each day, but about which I was "meant" to remain oblivious. White privilege is like an invisible weightless knapsack of special provisions, maps, passports, codebooks, visas, clothes, tools, and blank checks

As such, Love, without even having to defend himself, was able to cash in on his whiteness.  With a media not only defending, downplaying, and disputing any ill-intent, with a media that has constructed the criminalblackman on and off the field, that has made it virtually impossible to see unsportsmanlike behavior outside of the black body, it is no wonder that few were able to see Love’s action as troubling. 

The disparate responses are indicative of the larger inequalities that define America’s criminal justice system.   In a system where African Americans and Latinos are presumed guilty, the wages of whiteness are powerful so much so that the media frequently deployed its right to remain silent, securing Kevin Love’s innocence in the national imagination. 

***

David J. Leonard is Associate Professor in the Department of Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies at Washington State University, Pullman. He has written on sport, video games, film, and social movements, appearing in both popular and academic mediums. His work explores the political economy of popular culture, examining the interplay between racism, state violence, and popular representations through contextual, textual, and subtextual analysis.  Leonard’s latest book After Artest: Race and the Assault on Blackness will be published by SUNY Press in May of 2012.

"Race is an Economic Coding System": Walter Mosley @ BAM

White Boy Remixed: Whiteness and Teaching Race

White Boy Remixed: Whiteness and Teaching Race

by David J. Leonard | special to NewBlackMan

This summer I have dedicated to reading that stack of books I have been wanting to read. The 4th installment (I will write about the other three books on my blog) was Mark Naison’s memoir – White Boy. Naison, a professor of African American Studies at Fordham University, chronicles his personal, political and academic journey, responding to those who have ubiquitously asked how he as a white man became a professor of African American Studies. With a tremendous amount of honesty, openness, complexity, and vulnerability, Naison explores his own history as a teacher, activists, and source of community empowerment. While the book chronicles a powerful story of the 1960s – the anti-war movement, the Panthers, Columbia, identity politics – it is a story of a dynamic man whose life and insights teach us just as he has taught his students for several decades. In telling the story of the “white African American Studies professors, Naison offers a narrative that highlights how whiteness matters but how it does not define or over-determine the arch of his life or career. It is a story that resonates with me on so many levels, leading me to want to share my own story.

Like Mark Naison, I have been consistently asked about my entry into Ethnic Studies. In my first class at Washington State University, I had a student that constantly wanted to know my story. The student could not understand why this White guy was teaching African American film – what had lead me to be me – In the course of the class, he asked “How I can to be the Eminem of Ethnic Studies?” While the class oohed and aahed, some thinking it was a slight against me and others thinking it was a point of celebration, I saw it as a good question, one that could lead (and did) into some important conversations. Another day I had a group of students who came to my office asking me to settle a bet about how I came to Ethnic Studies, each having a different theory – (a) I grew up in the Black community; (b) I had a Black girlfriend or a Black wife who had taught and encouraged me to learn; (c) I was just down. In fact, I have been asked several times if I have a Black girlfriend who educated me about blackness, taught me to be committed and down, and pushed me down my educational and career path.

On another level, I have been asked if I am a “culture vulture,” in the tradition of Elvis, in that I am “taking” and “impersonating” something that I am not, in my educational and professional choices. I have also experienced much celebration being a white guy in ethnic studies. Most often such comments reflect desires for colorblindness as a presumed end goal; that is, my presence in Ethnic Studies supposedly embodies the fulfillment of King’s dream or a sign of progress. A student once sent me an e-mail that said that world was changing racially, for the better, because the best rapper was white, best golfer is black, best basketball player was Asian ...and their ethnic studies teacher was white. Not to be outdone, a student cited my presence in Ethnic Studies as evidence of colorblindness, to discount our discussions about racism and inequality. However, what the student failed to see is whether or not their teacher was White, or the president is Black, racism remains a constant. 

I am certainly defined by my whiteness, whether teaching ethnic studies or driving through Colfax; yet my relationship to Ethnic Studies, social justice struggles, my scholarship, my pedagogy, my ideology, my gaze upon the world, and my understanding of racism/privilege/inequality is not overly determined by a monolithic white identity formation. As Bakari Kitwana argues in Why White Kids Love Hip Hop, “Each Person has a unique story that brought him or her to hip-hop. Looking at the micro reasons as well as the macro ones helps us make sense of a contemporary hip-hop scene in which a new generation is affected by America’s racial history and in the process is constructing a new politics.” In others words, my arrival to and place within the field of Ethnic Studies (or a larger racialized discursive field) reflects a myriad of factors and experiences, ones that are neither defined exclusively by nor immune from the realities of whiteness, racism, and contemporary racial politics.

I grew up in Los Angeles in a middle-class family that spent most of its income on schools, not so much because of concerns of “safety” or even the quality of education available in the public school system. I went to an elementary school founded by Hollywood Communists, including Charlie Chaplin. During my life, I have never gone to school where we did not call our teachers by their first name; I did not receive “grades” until the 9th grade. More instructive, both detention and the pledge of allegiance were completely foreign concepts to me until high school. This educational background clearly established a foundation but this only tells part of the story.

I was also somewhat typical of many white kids growing up in the 1980s and 1990s. Often times I could be found rocking my Malcolm X hat, cross-colors shorts, and historically Black college sweatshirt. I sagged my pants, wore my starter jackets and had a swagger that I thought embodied my sense of bravado. For a couple days, I even had my hair braided, quickly removing them after I was serenaded with “Kris will make you jump” during a pick-up basketball game. Not surprisingly, I was never conscious of the process of appropriation, nor was I initially conscience of the inherent power/violence in “eating the other.” I was like so many kids that we see on campus, in that I saw my performative hip-hop identity as both “me being me,” and also as something good. I think Bill Yousman best describes my initial appropriation of hip-hop culture within my own imagination in the following terms:

White youth adoption of Black Cultural forms in the 21rst century is also a performance, one that allows Whites to contain their fears and animosities towards Blacks through rituals not of ridicule, as in previous eras, but of adoration. Thus, although the motives behind their performance may initially appear to be different, the act is still a manifestation of White Supremacy, albeit a white supremacy that is in crisis and disarray, rife with confusion and contradiction (In Kitwana 103).

While he emphasizes how fascination and fetishization often coexists and fosters white youth resistance to anti-racist activism, through either actual opposition or simple erasure, denial and ignorance about racism, Bakari Kitwana celebrates the transformative possibilities in hip-hop: “My belief is that rather than being resistant, many white hip-hop kids have yet to realize that is up to them to create such anti-racist programs.” More specifically, he writes how hip-hop and spaces of hip-hop have provided a new arena of public space where a new racial politics has the potential to form. At a certain level, my own experiences with hip-hop mirrors the optimism offered by Kitwana. For me, hip-hop was a place of entry to social justice and anti-racist scholarship, teaching, and practice.

Whereas rock n’ roll seemed to be central to Mark Naison’s political, educational, and personal development, hip-hop provided a powerful form of socialization for me. While I could talk about a number of examples, from how listening to NWA or Public Enemy pushed me to examine the history of policing within communities of color or how Arrested Development forced me to contemplate the realities of privilege, poverty, and homelessness in the United States, one song that inspired me to become a teacher was KRS One’s “You Must Learn.” It introduced me to an unknown history that I came to realize was erased from dominant historical memory. It ultimately led me into library, encouraging me to question my schooling and those “self evident truths.” Yet, it was not just the music.

There are countless other experiences, from my short time at University of Oregon and my undergraduate and graduate experiences at UCSB and UCB, to the Los Angeles uprising, that shaped not only my livelong passions but my identity and ethos. More than any other experience, the reason I am a white professor of ethnic studies stems from the influences of and mentorship I have received since an undergraduate. I have benefited tremendously from teachers, peers, and students who did not discourage or shun me (what is often assumed to the case), but instead educated, nurtured, challenged, and inspired me.

Kofi Buenor Hadjor, an instructor of black studies at UCSB, did it all. Beyond the classroom Kofi was a mentor. We used to sit and talk about the O.J. Simpson trial, police brutality, US policy toward Africa; his time with Kwame Nkrumah, Mao and Dubois; his thoughts about health care inside the U.S. and herbalism; we would talk religion, family, gender; he taught about humility and mentorship, compassion and community. While my parents planted the seeded, he molded me into the person, the professor, the scholar, and the advocate of social justice that I am today. He demanded in me respect for history and for books; he fostered in me a passion for sharing knowledge; he required of me self-critique whether in class or helping out around his house.

One day, Kofi, who was recovering from a stroke, asked me to go buy some fruit from the store. When I returned from the store with apples, bananas and pears, he took a moment to highlight the politics and privileges embodied in fruit. To him, these were “first world fruits,” and he wanted a mango or a papaya. I ultimately got him that mango, only then realizing I had no idea how to cut this fruit. In this instance, I learned how about my own privileges blinded me to the experiences of others; he taught me so much about myself. More than the specifics, he taught me the power of learning and teaching. Some 15 years later, I have so many vivid memories about his lectures, our private conversations, and the many lessons he taught me.

I just wish I was able to sit in one more of his classes or simply sit in his living room so we could talk one more time. Mark Naison’s book reminded me of Kofi influence and hopefully one day I will be able to visit Dr. Naison’s class because it is clear that he is able to inspire just like my mentor Kofi.

***

David J. Leonard is Associate Professor in the Department of Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies at Washington State University, Pullman. He has written on sport, video games, film, and social movements, appearing in both popular and academic mediums. His work explores the political economy of popular culture, examining the interplay between racism, state violence, and popular representations through contextual, textual, and subtextual analysis. He is the author of Screens Fade to Black: Contemporary African American Cinema and the forthcoming After Artest: Race and the War on Hoop (SUNY Press). Leonard blogs @ No Tsuris.