"Becoming the race of white"

"Becoming the race of white." How strange does that sound? "What the!?" you may wonder. Is this some kind of white supremacy crap that has been hacked onto this otherwise progressively leaning blog?

No! Exactly the opposite!

"Becoming the race of white" is a phrase from "White Noise and Queer Families," an amazing article written by Susan Raffo that moves forward the thinking and groundwork for anti-racist work by embedding it right into the heart of a family -- her family. And she offers clear suggestions for others to follow suit.

The article, which is a guest post on the Bilerco Project blog, is a thoughtful, intensely personal (yet accessible) account of thinking about, thinking through, and then acting with intention about what it means to be white parents (in their case white queer parents) raising a white child in our world of skin-color privilege.

Please go to that post and read the whole thing! (It's long and you miss way too much if you skip reading all of it.) Here is one passage that I found to be particularly engaging:

Whiteness

"...I love my daughter. I love to watch her naked - the way her body shifts and moves, the muscles playing out beneath her skin, the crazy exploding vitality of this skin, hair, nails that is constantly becoming as she grows and grows. It's a beautiful thing to watch.

Did you know that in utero, the same cells that eventually become the brain and the nervous system also become the skin? Some folks call skin our "outside brain." In the ways in which skin receives information about the world around us which is then interpreted through our nervous system, the whole thing is our brain. And we have defined this outside brain by race. And my beautiful daughter's skin is white. And that can never be neutral.

So in loving this child with white skin, my partner and I decided we wanted to pay attention to how our daughter becomes the race of white. What does it mean for her to slowly grow in to the racism and white privilege that is part of the story of that skin that surrounds her?

Paying attention to how our child becomes white is about a lot of things: and we already know that we don't know half of them. Sometimes it means paying attention to all of the ways in which being white gives her a kind of "get out of jail free" card, a kind of free pass into an adult life of better jobs, more income, and less stress and struggle. It means recognizing her access to having something like an "innocent" childhood, to unchallenged attendance at parks, dance classes, and a lineage of belonging. It means watching and learning from what happens when she pops out of me, all instinct for survival and connection to mama, and starts to grow a personality and set of understandings about herself and the world..."

I can't recall in growing up that I ever once got any sort of overt message that taught me to understand that I was part of "the race of white" and what that meant in the larger context of the world. We just were. Anybody else was them, the other.

Then, as a white parent of two children of color, I did lots of conscious parenting while raising them about learning to love and embrace all of who you are, to be strong, self aware, culturally aware, and especially to be prepared for a racist world. Would I have spent the same amount of love and energy in (or seen the value of) teaching them the same stuff if they were white? Honestly, probably not.

I think Susan, her partner, and those who have come together to do this work are doing truly groundbreaking stuff. They are taking work typically reserved for the world of white adults (such as understanding white privilege), and making that work as essential to parenting -- and as everyday -- as buckling your seat belt, learning your letters and numbers, and how to ride a bike.

Now that's a revolution.

Susan Raffo lives in Minneapolis where she writes, is a bodyworker, parents, lives in communal housing, organizes and, when the weather permits, gardens.

Susan Raffo

Playlist: Heading to the Big Easy

A playlist created for a road trip to New Orleans, heading from Minneapolis through St. Louis, Memphis, Jackson, Baton Rogue, and then sliding in to the Big Easy. Enjoy!

Heading to the Big Easy, DJ Dancing Diva
1. House of the Rising Sun, Nina Simone
2. Angel from Montgomery, Bonnie Raitt
3. A Child With The Blues, Erykah Badu
4. After Midnight, J.J. Cale
5. River Runs Deep, J.J. Cale
6. Black Magic Woman, Santana
7. Voo Doo, Neville Brothers
8. Healing Chant, Neville Brothers
9. Yellow Moon, Neville Brothers
10. Wake Up, Neville Brothers
11. Right Place, Wrong Time , Dr. John
12. The Nearness of You, Dr. John
13. Fishin' Blues, Taj Mahal
14, Crazy Love, Ray Charles/Van Morrison
15. A Song for You, Leon Russell
16. Dreamin,' Amos Lee
17. Arms of a Woman, Amos Lee
18. Tennessee, Arrested Development
18. Graceland, Paul Simon
19. Diamonds On the Soles of Her Shoes, Paul Simon
20. Bring It On Home To Me, Sam Cooke
21. You Send Me, Sam Cooke
22. (Sittin' on) The Dock of the Bay, Otis Redding
23. Let's Stay Together, Al Green
24. Unchained Melody, Al Green
25. I'm Still In Love With You, Al Green
26. In The Basement, Etta James
27. I Don't Know, Ruth Brown
28. Funkier Than a Mosquito's Tweeter, Nina Simone
29. Sun Gonna Shine, Nina Simone
30. You Really Got a Hold On Me, Gaye Adegbalola B
31. Me and Bobby McGee, Janis Joplin
32. Testify [Funky Acoustic], Nedra Johnson
33. 8 Minutes to Sunrise, Jill Scott & Common
34. The Rain, Jill Scott & Will Smith
35. A Whiter Shade of Pale, Annie Lennox
36. Glitter In the Air, P!nk
37. Here Comes the Sun, Beatles
38. Lovely Day, Bill Withers
39. Guilty, Bonnie Raitt
40. American Pie, Don McLean
41. Sail Away, Randy Newman
42. Fast Car, Tracy Chapman
43. Talkin' Bout A Revolution, Tracy Chapman
44. Blackbird, Dionne Farris
45. Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat), Digable Planets
46. Summertime, DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince
47. Fu-Gee-La (Refugee Camp Remix), Fugees
48. Sweetest Girl (Dollar Bill), Wyclef Jean [feat. Akon, Lil Wayne & Niia]
49. We Trying to Stay Alive, Wyclef Jean
50. Say Hey (I Love You), Michael Franti & Spearhead A
51. As, Stevie Wonder

You can find most of these songs on a playlist of the same name on iTunes

The New "Us"

The editorial "Whose Country Is It?," by Charles M. Blow, published on March 26 in the New York Times, captures better than anything I've read yet what is really behind the terror of the far right. The whole piece is a must read. Here are a couple of highlights:

"...The bullying, threats, and acts of violence following the passage of health care reform have been shocking, but they’re only the most recent manifestations of an increasing sense of desperation.

It’s an extension of a now-familiar theme: some version of “take our country back.” The problem is that the country romanticized by the far right hasn’t existed for some time, and its ability to deny that fact grows more dim every day. President Obama and what he represents has jolted extremists into the present and forced them to confront the future. And it scares them...

...This at a time when the country is becoming more diverse (some demographers believe that 2010 could be the first year that most children born in the country will be nonwhite), less doctrinally dogmatic, and college enrollment is through the roof. The Tea Party, my friends, is not the future.

You may want “your country back,” but you can’t have it. That sound you hear is the relentless, irrepressible march of change. Welcome to America: The Remix."

The family of my childhood was a picture perfect example of who was the American majority a half a century ago -- the "us" who was in power in the era of "Leave it to Beaver" and "Father Knows Best." White, protestant, straight, old school republican (economically conservative, socially liberal), father who left for work every day in a suit, mom who stayed home to raise the kids and do volunteer work, classic Midwestern suburban middle class.

Growing up, I assumed we were the "us" that defined America because all evidence around me told me so: where I lived, who I went to school with, what was on T.V., on the news and in the history books, and whoever was President. Everyone else was "them." I was taught by my parents that "they" (them) were a part of our great country, but (more subtly told) not quite as good or right as "us." I honestly didn't know any better until the civil rights movement, and when I went to college in the mid 70s and began to slowly meet bits and pieces of everyone else besides "us."

One and two generations later, my family of today is one example of the "us" that defines America for the 21st century and beyond. We are many races, many cultures, straight and gay, multilingual, new citizens and born citizens. I know we are the new "us" because all evidence around me tells me so: where I live, who my kids went to school with, what is on T.V. and in the news, slowly changing history books, who is President, the Speaker of the House, and the newest member of the Supreme Court. The "us" of my childhood is careening toward the "them" of tomorrow. No, make that today. Make that now.

My father just turned 80. For much of his life he quietly lived deeply within the privilege of the "us" of yesterday. Now, sometimes he is a bit nostalgic for those days, that were for him a time when all was right in his world. But, he always adds, "I realize now that was only true for some of us, and that it was a terrible time for so many others."

Unlike the tea party and all it represents, my father has evolved with the times. He sees that a new day is upon us. He told me after Obama won that he is the right president for our times. He accepts his lesbian daughter, his African American grandchildren and great grandchildren, my African American lesbian butch spouse, his Latina niece, African nephew, Latina/o and Black great nieces and nephews, and on and on.

Most important, and I say this with utmost pride, he is a shining example that you can let go of power with grace and accept change with dignity.

He might not be here to see the country he loves when it inevitably turns from majority white to majority brown (in all of its hues) in about 2020 or so, but he knows that day is coming. That in reality, it's already arrived -- reflected tangibly for him in the fabric that now defines his family, and in the president that runs his country. And he is at peace.

I wish the terrified right could learn from him and countless other people like him. That they could learn to let go of a false reality and see that living a life through a lens of love and acceptance creates more not less. That the change that's been coming for decades is has arrived.

That's the remix -- an "us" with room for everyone.

Dedicated to my father, with great love and respect.

Anniversary post -- shamelessly seeking comments

Well sort of an anniversary post. I started this blog in December 2008, and have been thinking about writing an anniversary post since last fall. Since timeliness is not my virtue, I'm clocking in three months late.

But here is the most important point, in case you don't want to read any further: I am shamelessly soliciting comments! Please comment!

I started this blog as an experiment. I was curious -- albeit about a decade late -- to see what being a blogger was all about. I do a bit of writing and performance art and this seemed like a medium that could capture the pandemonium of me -- someone who lurches from serious commentary, emotional excess, personal stories, righteous anger, and good humor without notice.

The topics I'm interested in are also all over the place -- aging, politics, art, music, race relations, queerness, motherhood and grandmotherhood. I figured a blog with wildly different posts might be interesting -- for my short attention span -- and maybe for the folks who happened upon them.

So here are my reflections on a year of blogging and some change:

• I've pretty much done what I said I would do in my inaugural post. With one notable exception. When I started this blog, we had just elected Barack Obama president and I was crazed with the moment, the history, the "Yes We Did!" fever. I thought I'd be blogging a lot about our new president and in particular, what it meant to me personally that he was biracial and raised by a white mother, given that my young adult kids are biracial and raised by this white mother. I felt like we were family or something. Truth is, all of that wonderfulness fell away pretty quickly for me. President Obama is working tirelessly at his job and there is more than enough punditry to go around about every breath he takes. I've blogged much more about "post racial America," meaning that while we may have elected a Black man president, the same old same old racist crapola continues. In fact, an ugly backlash has risen up -- tea baggers being its most visible manifestation.

• I'm a bit of a lazy blogger. First off, I only write 3-6 posts most months. Second, I started out with thoughtful, longer, well written posts like this one about Obama's inauguration and this one about aging (which is funny, too). (Thoughtful and funny is one of my favorite blogging combos.)

• As time went on, I tended toward spontaneous, easy posts like this one, featuring Louis CK's hilarious bit about being a white guy, or this one, about being a fan of Public Enemy. Short posts where I link to something already posted online and then add my own two cents. A winning formula for lazy blogging! But who has time to read long, thoughtful posts anyway? Not me. Probably not you.
  

• According to my free stat counter, there's been about 10,000 visits to my blog. I have a few devoted readers, and I don't know how many people read this blog via subscriptions and RSS feeds. Most people stumble upon it through google searches or the few times big-time bloggers have linked to me (thank you!). The posts people find most often via Google searches are Birthday Playlist for Aging Baby Boomers; The Mixes: DJ Dancing Diva ; and (Nappy Hair) Notes. Go figure. In fact, a picture of my granddaughter's hair in all of its full blown nappy glory is the most downloaded image from my site (photo below). Luckily, the shot is only of the top of her head, so you can't see who it is. But why do all those people want that picture? It makes me uncomfortable. I might take it down. Out of context from the post, I don't like it living by itself in Google images. A great reminder to be mindful of how personal I may or may not want to get in this mega public arena.

I like blogging. It's fun. It's an outlet. It fits a niche along with Facebook and Twitter. It's interactive -- sort of. I know people read posts, but comments are few and far between. I'd love more. In fact, I would love your comment on this post. Specifically on what you think of this blog. Do you like it? Best of? Worst of? Or just comment and say hi so I know you are out there! Go ahead, make my day! I think six comments on one post would be a record. Yes we can! On a more serious note, thank you to each person who has taken the time to visit my blog, read a post, and be part of this little virtual world. The ride's been great fun for me so far, and I hope for you, too. Be *seeing* you (around 3-6 times a month)!

This is what post racial America looks like

My last post, celebrating the historic health care reform legislation and our amazing President, referred to his quote, after the bill was passed, "This is what change looks like."

Sadly -- no make that horrifyingly -- this is what post racial America looks like. We have all read about the disgusting behavior of tea baggers and other right wing republican conservatives, but this opinion piece, by Bob Herbert, in the March 22 issue of New York Times, captures the broader view as well as any commentary I've seen. Be sure to read the entire piece, but here are a couple of highlights:

"...In Washington on Saturday, opponents of the health care legislation spit on a black congressman and shouted racial slurs at two others, including John Lewis, one of the great heroes of the civil rights movement. Barney Frank, a Massachusetts Democrat who is chairman of the House Financial Services Committee, was taunted because he is gay.

At some point, we have to decide as a country that we just can’t have this: We can’t allow ourselves to remain silent as foaming-at-the-mouth protesters scream the vilest of epithets at members of Congress — epithets that The Times will not allow me to repeat here.

It is 2010, which means it is way past time for decent Americans to rise up against this kind of garbage, to fight it aggressively wherever it appears. And it is time for every American of good will to hold the Republican Party accountable for its role in tolerating, shielding and encouraging foul, mean-spirited and bigoted behavior in its ranks and among its strongest supporters.

For decades the G.O.P. has been the party of fear, ignorance and divisiveness. All you have to do is look around to see what it has done to the country. The greatest economic inequality since the Gilded Age was followed by a near-total collapse of the overall economy. As a country, we have a monumental mess on our hands and still the Republicans have nothing to offer in the way of a remedy except more tax cuts for the rich...

...This is the party of trickle down and weapons of mass destruction, the party of birthers and death-panel lunatics. This is the party that genuflects at the altar of right-wing talk radio, with its insane, nauseating, nonstop commitment to hatred and bigotry...

...A party that promotes ignorance (“Just say no to global warming”) and provides a safe house for bigotry cannot serve the best interests of our country. Back in the 1960s, John Lewis risked his life and endured savage beatings to secure fundamental rights for black Americans while right-wing Republicans like Barry Goldwater and Ronald Reagan were lining up with segregationist Democrats to oppose landmark civil rights legislation.

Since then, the right-wingers have taken over the G.O.P. and Mr. Lewis, now a congressman, must still endure the garbage they have wrought.