Politika (Update)

Very seldom do I find myself writing about politics. There are at least two reasons for that. The first is that there are so many experts out there who say it all so much better than I could. The second is that, politically, I mostly feel despair about any hope of my opinion or vote counting for anything with those dominant war-mongers and control freaks out there. It all just feels so out of my hands, as if we are living in some terrible dark ages with patriarchy as huge and wild, expansive and dominant as ever. Violence as the only means, segregation, labeling, categorizing and punishment as the only way. So little compassion. I have had to hold tight to the belief that my interactions with students, colleagues, friends, conference participants, or bloggers might, perhaps, make a little difference in one or two lives from moment to moment. Or have tried to focus on the mini-universe of my own world to make changes within me as a way through the darkness of these times.

A number of experiences have re-energized and pushed me towards hoping for more. First of all, I read, A Hope in the Unseen. That moved me to a deeper understanding that, in fact, I do not fully grasp the extent of racism and injustice in this country. It humbled me in ways that feel too difficult to describe at the moment. Am still digesting this. In fact, it changed the nature of my presentation about bias at the conference this week. Speaking at the National Black Child Development Institute, I came to my presentation participants and knelt before them with my words. Bowed my head towards them and asked permission that I, as a white privileged ex colonial woman, talk about bias at all. The discussion became deep, truthful, and authentic between us. A new dimension was reached. We tore open patriarchy and white privilege in ways that only courageous people full of love could have done.

And all the while, this week I was reading Barack Obama's The Audacity of Hope. His knowledge and understanding about compassion filled me with a feeling that all might not be lost. He writes about what it is like to be a black man in America even as one who sees himself through luck and circumstance occupying a position that insulates him from "most of the bumps and bruises that the average black man must endure." Obama writes, acknowledging all sides to the excruciatingly painful story about race:

I can recite the usual litany of petty slights that during my forty-five years have been directed my way: security guards trailing me as I shop in department stores, white couples who toss me their car keys as I stand outside a restaurant waiting for the valet, police cars pulling me over for no apparent reason. I know what it's like to have people tell me I can't do something because of my color, and I know the bitter swill of swallowed-back anger. I know as well that Michelle and I must be continually vigilant against some of the debilitating story lines that our daughters may absorb - from TV and music and friends and the streets - about who the world thinks they are, and what the world imagines they should be.

To think clearly about race, then, requires us to see the world on a split screen - to maintain in our sights the kind of America that we want while looking squarely at America as it is, to acknowledge the sins of our past and the challenges of the present without becoming trapped in cynicism or despair. I have witnessed a profound shift in race relations in my lifetime. I have felt it as surely as one feels a change in the temperature. When I hear some of the black community deny these changes, I think it not only dishonors those who struggled on our behalf but also robs us of our agency to complete the work they began. But as much as I insist that things have gotten better, I am mindful of this truth as well: Better isn't good enough. (Page 233)

Yesterday I heard the news from CNN: "Gay couples have the same marriage rights as heterosexual couples under the New Jersey state constitution, the state Supreme Court rules." I excitedly forwarded the Breaking News e-mail I received to a friend, expressing my delight in working in a State that seems to be more enlightened than others. She replied: "Yes, and won't this piss off the conservatives even more... east coast hethens!"

Oh well, I am back into politics again. I will storm out there bright and early on November 7, and vote and vote and vote! Yes, even as I am heading out the door that day to present about bias yet again at yet another conference, this time in Atlanta. I will try not to become trapped into cynicism and despair, just as Barack Obama urges and will focus on small, personal interactions as I find a way to work, with an audacity to hope with larger, more universal causes.

I e-mailed my friend a reply this morning:

never mind those fascists ... one step at a time, we must press on regardless of them ... closer and closer to human rights ... towards the light ... away from the dark, where they reside, in dank, dark, ugliness ... points of light quietly, softly, compassionately, all the while, joining hands and hearts, making a web of kindness and justice for all.

Update:

My friend's reply to me:

yes ... the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.  Martin Luther King Jr. [bold letters - hers]

Comments

[tamarika]

We need all the inspiration we can lay our hands on! Not that Obama says it the way I am saying it - but his words gave me the inspiration and courage to extend his thoughts - bit by bit - all our points of light will brighten these dark ages that we are living through right now ... and there is no turning back once light has been seen at the end of the tunnel ... even though forces of darkness try to pull us back ... nu-uh! ... no turning back...

[patry]

I'm going to have to read Obama's book. Thanks for the inspiration!

[Pica]

Thank you for this. I, too, find hope in the message of Barack Obama and wonder whether my cynicism was a little premature... easy to get ground down, though.