Fixing to Do No Harm

As an adult child of an alcoholic (ACoA), I often find myself fixing situations, helping people, and also continuing relationships even when I know no good will come of it. Sometimes my attempts backfire, and I come away hurt and discouraged.  Other times I make a clean break and then suffer the guilt for it. It’s happened on more occasions than I wish to remember, and it happened again last week. My saving grace was that I acted with good intent, with a sense of doing no harm, even as I witnessed events unravel around me.

Many ACoAs go into the field of counseling and others become writers. My first master’s degree was to be a counseling degree, but I switched programs just before the last step: a full time internship. I was awarded a degree in Professional Education Studies with a concentration in multiculturalism, but I still completed all those counseling courses. Then I pursued and completed a master’s degree in writing.

I found a presentation on alcoholism I delivered for a marriage and family counseling class. Here’s the slide about the characteristics of an ACoA:

•Guess what normal behavior is

•Have difficulty completing things

•Lie when it is just as easy to tell the truth

•Are self-critical

•Have trouble having fun/are overly serious

•Are overly responsible or irresponsible

•Have difficulty with intimate relationships

•Over-react to changes they have no control over

•Seek approval/affirmation

•Are extremely loyal

•Are impulsive

I display many of the above characteristics. I’ve spent a lifetime wondering what normal is and dissecting how far off the grid I am. Sometimes I feel planets away.

I’ve lied to make people feel better or to make the story have a happy ending. After all, why do harm or make matters worse with the truth? And even though I am estranged from family, I’ve been known to keep people in my life that I never should have let enter in the first place, but I accept them because I often feel unacceptable. I don’t want others to feel that.

I’m also a hyper-responsible person, enough so that in many ways I raised myself as a child by creating limits and structure, at times adult-like, other times in childish ways. Collecting things and organizing them was one way I imposed structure in my chaotic childhood. That ability served me well in my career.

I learned some things in my counseling courses, perhaps not what the professors were hoping I’d learn, but what spoke to me about mental health and how we measure normal. For example, I fear abandonment, being left behind, being lost and never found, and the people I love not bothering to look for me. The fear haunted me as a child and galloped alongside me into adulthood. Some people might think, “You ought to get that fixed,” as if it is a broken bone or a cut. Doctors suggest the same thing. Feeling down? Feeling anxious? Take an anti-depressant.

But I disagree with that. The anxiety I feel about being abandoned is part of who I am. I am the sum of my heredity, ethnicity, culture, environment, education, temperament, and personality. My coping skills developed just as my resilience developed in specific ways in reaction to what was going on around me. I both survived and prevailed. What should I change? What should I fix? And why would I fix it? It’s who I am; it’s how I navigate my way through the world. It has not prevented me from doing anything I set out to do.

And I’ve found out something else really important, and it is that there is no normal. Normal is simply a point on a continuum that measures human behaviors. It is simply the average or middle of the range that stretches to extremes on either end. Each one of us falls on that line somewhere, and though there may be some individuals out there who fall exactly at the mid-point, who are exactly the average of all the possible human behavior combinations, I don’t think there are many, and, in all likelihood, it doesn’t seem like a great place to end up. If we all resided at point normal, life would be a very boring stretch indeed.

So the very things that sometimes backfire on me are the very things that assist me in succeeding in life, in finding love, in bearing and raising children, in creating a career, and in being creative. And my search for where I fall on the grid of humanity barely matters because my position on the grid will not shed any light on who I am. The process of changing behaviors and moving along the grid can sometimes help a person cope better with life and its complexities. Sometimes a person is paralyzed by certain behavioral aspects and really does need assistance and change. But, for most of us, those who are navigating through life and don’t feel paralysis or who don’t exercise undue impulsivity, changing certain attributes about oneself is not as rewarding as one might imagine, and change can actually backfire.

I think it is much more productive to be aware of who one is, and to acknowledge, accept, and work within that framework through life, knowing that it isn’t going to be perfect because no one is perfect, no one sits at the absolute center of humanity.

That’s why I have spoken in past posts about swimming in the muck of my emotions and relishing the process. It’s my way of knowing and experiencing all that I am. Understanding who I am, in all my imperfection, allows me to be open to other people and who they are and to not pass judgment about where on the grid they may fall and if that means they are good or bad people. We are so much more complex than that. In wondering about the difference between good people and bad people, I come up with one word: intent. Is the intent to hurt or exploit or shame another or gain at another’s expense or is the intent to live one’s life while doing no harm to others?

Creativity is like that, too, complex and layered like the minds in which it is born and nurtured and developed.  I had the pleasure of seeing Cara’s 2013 Faculty Concert at High Point University. Three works-in-progress were performed and then the three choreographers discussed their pieces and creative processes and took questions from one another and from audience members and also asked the audience questions.

One of the questions to the audience was did the audience need to “get the piece” in order to enjoy it. I didn’t raise my hand to answer the question, because I hate being “mom participating because she wants to show how much she supports her daughter.” Cara and I talked about it the next day, and I’ll answer the question in this post as well.

Each audience member will be affected in some way by a live performance but it doesn’t matter if the individual gets it or not. The choreographer’s intention matters only to the choreographer during the creative process of making a dance. How the audience interprets the movement during the performance is separate from that intention, and even though some may in fact interpret the intention and concepts of the choreographer, most times each individual is affected uniquely through the lenses and perceptions that individual brings to the performance.

I watch dance much like I read or listen to music: for pleasure and for the visceral, emotional, and intellectual experience. Sometimes learning the intention of a piece of dance or an essay or poem causes me to close off other possibilities and therefore diminishes my experience.

Writers, composers, and choreographers have a need to share their creative output, but it is asking too much when one expects acquiescence or consensus on the part of the audience. In many ways creative work is more complex and multidimensional than even the creator can realize.

Like performance, one can’t always know another’s intentions because we see those intentions through our own lenses and perceptions. This letter appeared on the reader’s page of my local paper yesterday.

Several probable reasons

I would like to offer several probable reasons why some Christian churches have severed their connection with the Boy Scouts and why many other Christian churches should also do so.

First, practicing homosexuality is condemned not only in the Old Testament, but also in the New Testament (see Romans 1:18-27; 1 Corinthians 6:9-10; and Jude 7).

Second, the Bible doesn’t mention whether or not Jesus Christ ever encountered a practicing homosexual, so we don’t know for certain how he would have dealt with such a situation. However, since other passages in the New Testament condemn homosexual practices, there is no valid reason to believe Jesus would have condoned such practices. I believe that if Jesus had encountered a homosexual who had been engaging in such practices, he would have shown that person love, but told them to “sin no more,” as he told the adulterous woman in John 8:11.

Third, I believe it is highly probable that some – perhaps, many – Scouts who are practicing homosexuality will attempt to get other Scouts to do likewise.

Fourth, if there were such an incident in a church-sponsored Scout troop, there would be considerable negative publicity, which could seriously hinder the future ministry of that church and, perhaps, others.

Nevertheless, I think homosexuals would be welcome to attend even churches that have severed their connection with the Scouts, provided that the homosexuals are truly seeking to worship God and don’t flaunt their lifestyle or attempt to get other attendees to engage in homosexual practices.

~HARVEY ARMOUR

What is the intent of the writer? How does one practice homosexuality and convince others to engage in the practice? What does he mean by that? How does qualified acceptance work in our society, and is it fair and just?

My perception of this writer’s intent reminded me of Jim Crow, the intention of which was based in fear, hatred, power, privilege, violence, and control.  Do no harm played no part in that chapter of our history.

I gasped when I read this letter. The writer questions the intention of others, and I question his intention in doing so. Is he a good man or a bad man? Is his intention to do no harm? Do I get it? Does it matter if I perceive his intention as different from what he believes his intention to be?

What was George Zimmerman’s intention the night he had a fight with his wife, pursued Trayvon Martin through his neighborhood, and then shot and killed him? Through whose eyes do we view his intention? His? Trayvon’s? Is he a good man or a bad man? As we learn more about George Zimmerman, including the latest domestic violence 911 call, do we understand his intentions? What motivated him? Did do no harm play any part in his intentions and actions?

My intentions may be for the right reasons and in the quest to do no harm, but I’ve learned there are some things I can’t fix and some things I have no business trying to fix. I accept my need to try. That’s who I am.

Biased Much?

The following letter appeared in my local newspaper today. It was titled Racism.

In response to the letter (‘a terrible message” July 28) criticizing the woman holding the “We’re racist & proud” sign, I am an American with European heritage. Because of my political and social views, many would label, and have labeled, me a racist. I would argue that I do not deserve that label.

My great-great-grandfather shed blood to free an enslaved people and my family and I have always opposed any measure that would promote one race over another. For example, I think it would be an outrage for a group with European heritage to promote advantages for themselves and call their group the National Association for the Advancement of Anglo-Saxon People. That would be offensive to many of non-Anglo descent.

A European History Month would be similarly offensive, as would an event celebrating White Repertoire Theater. If 12 million Europeans or their families had gained illegal entry into the country, resulting in a drain on the public treasury, I would be opposed to granting them amnesty without consequence.

Again, because of those views, I will be labeled a racist by many screaming racism, because of? Racism. There is no way to escape the label and I am proud of my views promoting equality for all people who obey the law.

If the Rev. Al Sharpton were to call me a racist, I’d never convince him that he is wrong. All I can do is to tolerate, even embrace, the label and proudly continue to hold and express my views.

BARTON TIFFANY

Here is a reminder of that photo:

This is the problem. This letter writer and many, many others don’t get it. They are acting as if everyone, no matter one’s ethnic or racial heritage or the color of one’s skin, is treated the same and experiences social interactions and situations in the same way, and enjoys equal protection under the law; that we all have the same experience as citizens of the United States of America. But that is an assumption, and it is wrong, dead wrong in many cases.

Let me illustrate. Male teens of all races dress a lot alike. That’s part of adolescence – they are rebelling against the older generations but conforming with their own generation while claiming they are fiercely independent. They like hoodies and pants that are way too low at the waist or below the butt for my taste. I’d like to start a campaign to “put a belt on it,” but I digress and I seem to recall not too many adults of the generation above me liked the short skirts, platform heels, hiphugger bellbottom jeans, and midriff shirts I wore back in the ‘70s like everyone else my age.

That same uniform takes on different meanings depending on whether the person wearing it is white or black. A white teen might be described as finding himself and sowing his wild oats; it’s what ALL boys do, all white boys, anyway.

Put that same uniform on a black teen, and he is a criminal.

Subconscious racial bias and racism are alive and well.

And that’s scary, because when a stranger is sizing you up and subconscious racial bias is operating, a black teen may find himself in a fatal situation just as Trayvon Martin did, and Darius Simmons, aged 13, who was shot and killed by his neighbor. No one should discount the enormity of racism and racial bias. It is deadly!

So when I read a letter like the one above, or someone writes a comment on my Facebook page, or says something in a conversation that diminishes or denies the effect of racial bias, I react strongly. Because I have seen how dangerous it is and not just in the news but in my life.

Examples of dangerous or life transforming racially motivated occurences in my life (for new readers, I am white, my husband is black): the seller of our first house decided not to honor our contract after she found out we were an interracial couple; forty white men jumped Ronald because they didn’t think he should be able to date me; two white men rammed our canoe with their motor boat because they didn’t like seeing us together; a car of twenty-something white kids hurtled toward us as we left the movie theater and one kid yelled a racial epithet as they sped off; a white cop held a gun to Ronald’s head as he unlocked his car door because “blacks don’t own foreign cars”; a white guy sucker punched Ronald because he mistook him for an Arab; Ronald was fired from his first job because his boss didn’t like seeing us together; Ronald was arrested for walking down the street. I could list hundreds of more situations, and we are just one couple.

I am saddened by it, too. Because racial bias is insidious in so many ways. When I see a black male child, I see a child. I don’t see a person who has evil intent, or who can physically take me, or who wants to rob me. I see a child.

When our daughters were in first grade, we separated them so they would be able to develop independently. Mackenzie was shy at school and relied on Cara to speak for her, and Cara would have forgotten her head at school every day if Mackenzie wasn’t tracking behind her picking up her lunchbox and gloves and books and boots.

Cara came home each day to excitedly tell me about her new friend. I went to school one day for a special class project, and, as we waited for the kids to return from a school function in the auditorium, I started a conversation with another mom. We were each delighted to discover the other was the mother of the child who was our daughter’s new friend.

The kids returned, and Cara ran over to hug me. I guess Cara's brown skin against my white skin was too much. The white mother physically backed away from us. During the class project she and her daughter sat at the same table as we did, because the girls wanted to sit together, but she avoided speaking to me, and I could tell she was comparing her daughter’s artwork to Cara’s artwork and pushing her daughter to do better. I was saddened by the way the afternoon unfolded.

The next week Cara came home from school crying. She said her new friend had left to go to another school.

I asked the teacher what happened, and because we had known each other for quite a while, she was honest with me when she told me the mother said she was removing her daughter from the school because there was not a single child in the classroom she considered a peer to her child and there were too many black boys in the class.

I knew the black boys she talked about, and I thought they were wonderful, like I think all children are. Their eyes gleemed with the excitement of learning. Their bodies moved with energy and passion. They were friendly, and funny, and engaging, and creative, and smart. I never saw them as different from my children, but she didn’t like my child either.

I wonder if I had been more like that mother, would I have been frightened, too? I don’t think so. I learned from an early age about being open to who other people are. Maybe I learned it because I felt like such an unlovable being, and I hoped others would be open to seeing me if I were open to them. Maybe I always had deep empathy for others, that rare ability to walk in someone else’s shoes. I wish I could endow others with that kind of compassion.

I would travel the country with my magic wand and touch the foreheads and the hearts of people everywhere, so they, too, would see, not through the lenses of hatred and paranoia, but through the lens of acceptance.

So I have to wonder about someone who can look at a 13-year-old boy and see an enemy, especially when so many white middle class children seem to have extended childhoods that last into their mid-twenties and sometimes even later. How, then, can a black boy be assigned adult power and wherewithall and prowess? Racism and racial bias.

There is a a story in the New York Times about Missouri schools where white parents are upset that black parents are transferring their children to better performing schools. Wouldn’t you want that for your child? Why would you be upset that someone else desires it?

One mother who chose to transfer her daughter from a school that had the worst disciplinary rating in the state to a predominately white school watched a televised town hall meeting about the school where the “parents angrily protested the transfer of Normandy students across the county line, some yelling that their children could be stabbed and that the district’s academic standards would slip.”

The mother said, “When I saw them screaming and hollering like they were crazy, I thought to myself, ‘Oh my God, this is back in Martin Luther King days. They’re going to get the hoses out. They’re going to be beating our kids and making sure they don’t get off the school bus.’”

Can you imagine thinking that? Wondering if you made the right decision to put your child in a better school and worrying about her safety?

The irony of the white parents thinking the same thing is not lost on me. But I have to wonder how their thinking got to that point. Why are they assuming that having black children in their school, in particular, lower socio-economic black children, will put their own children in danger?

That’s the same kind of thinking George Zimmerman had when he shot and killed Trayvon Martin. That’s the same kind of thinking John Henry Spooner had when he shot and killed Darius Simmons. He said, when the judge asked him if he felt bad for killing his next door neighbor, “Not that bad.”

When he was questioned on the stand he said, “I wanted my guns back. I just, you ever want something so bad…yeah.”

What? His guns were worth more than a child’s life? A child who did not steal his guns? A child who was his neighbor and known to him? How does anyone come to this? Racial bias and racism.

I can’t see us having a conversation on race when the very people who need to be active listeners in the conversation shut it down with their disbelief that racism exists. The truth is in the news every day, and in the lives of millions of people of color. How can it be denied?

The reason most white people think there is no racism is that they have not experienced it,  and they cannot imagine that such horrible things could happen in a country where they feel safe and free to live their lives, until someone of color moves into their neighborhood or attends their child’s school.

I’ll leave you with this video of James Baldwin, activist and writer, describing racism to Dick Cavett fifty years ago. Some things don’t change, and his words are as true today as they were back then.

James Baldwin

Outraged

This week has driven me to distraction. As the right continues to murder Trayvon’s memory, pass laws that are constitutionally questionable, and make fun of President Obama’s impromptu talk on race in America, my sensibilities are electrified by disbelief and outrage. I’ve put together a list of things we can do to become a rational, compassionate nation that supports the equality of all its citizens.

1.              Stop. Stop hating. Stop blaming. Stop thinking some people, like you, are better than others.

2.              Learn empathy. Everyone will face adversity at some point in one’s life. Money will not save you. Smugness and superiority will not save you.  God will not save you. So you’d better learn to feel compassion for the person who is down and out, because you might be next.

3.              If you are white and you think racism goes both ways, the most important role you can play in the conversation about race is that of listener.  You’ve already given your opinion one time too many, and it was off base, offensive, ignorant, untruthful, and dangerous.

4.              If you think you know what it is like to be black in America, and you are not a person of color, stop right now. You have no idea what it is like to be black in America. I have spent almost forty years of my life with a black man, and my children are interracial, yet I do not know exactly what it is to be black. I will never know, because I will never be black. Period.

5.              If you are a minority, any minority (black, Hispanic, female, LGBT), even though it may feel scary and difficult, speak up when someone is being offensive. Let people know, as kindly as you can, that what they said is damaging to you, to them, and to society. If you don’t tell them, they’ll only keep on doing what they are doing and tell the next person that their [black, Hispanic, female, LGBT] friend doesn’t feel that way, so s/he must be wrong. Be the first to let them know their thinking is wonky, and then offer to help them understand. And if they don’t want to speak to you after that, that’s their loss.

6.              Report abuse, harassment, discrimination, and favoritism to your employer, the business you are paying for goods and services, at school, at church, or anywhere else it happens, else how will it ever stop? This is for every person, even if you were not the receiver of the action. Peer pressure can positively affect people, too.

7.              If you do not consider yourself a racist, stop voting Republican. The party has been recruiting racists since Nixon, and they are more and more blatant in their appeals to hatred and paranoia to keep the country divided and advance their agenda that benefits the wealthy and creates a plutocracy.

8.              If you do not consider yourself a misogynist, see number 7.

9.              If you think LGBT citizens should be treated equally under the law, see number 7.

10.          In fact, if you believe all people should be equal under the law, see number 7.

11.          If you are a fiscal conservative, stop lying to yourself. History shows that the Republicans tend to grow government and increase the deficit. See number 7.

12.          If you are truly a Christian, stop supporting laws and policies that hurt the poor and the underserved. See number 7.

13.          If you are pro-life help the children who are already here and give women equal access to quality reproductive health. See number 7.

14.          If you know for sure that corporations are not people, see number 7.

15.          If you are female or identify as an ethnic minority in our country, see number 7. They only want your vote, but they will not represent you.

16.          If you believe socialism is scary and dangerous, you need to think again. The roads you drive your vehicle on, the sewer system your home is connected to, the police department, the fire department, the military, social security, the Center for Disease Control, the Food and Drug Administration, Medicare, Medicaid, and unemployment benefits are all socialist programs. You benefit from those programs, as should all citizens.

17.          If you believe the Affordable Health Care Act is a socialist program designed to assist people who don’t deserve assistance, see number 16 and number 2. Also know that it is good for society overall that people receive proper health care, because it will prevent the epidemic spread of diseases such as TB and people will be healthier overall and not be a burden to others.

18.          Vote. Vote in every election, including local elections. People died fighting for the inalienable right to vote, so the very least you can do is read up on the issues and the candidates and get your ass to the polls. If you vote, you have a right to complain and ask for representation. If you don’t, shut up, because you are part of the problem.

19.          Help someone else to vote. Drive people who don’t have transportation to the poll. Hold their place in line if they are too old or too tired or too infirm to stand there and they need to sit down.

20.          Do not be a one-issue voter. Nothing is more dangerous or insidious, because if you only vote on one issue you are ignoring all the other issues and voting in candidates who may have terrible agendas and they are relying on you to be ignorant and fervid for your single issue.

21.          If you hear anyone speak disparagingly about another, whether it is about our President, or the black child walking home from school, or the Mexican family waiting in line at the grocery store, or the little girl who is overweight, or the gay or interracial couple who want to enjoy an evening out, tell them you do not agree with them and ask them why they are so mean spirited. Then wait for them to answer.

22.          If you think murder is wrong, stop supporting Stand Your Ground laws, and let people all around you, including your gun monger friends, know that Stand Your Ground is simply a legal get-around to commit murder and you are going to expend your energy getting the laws repealed and fighting for more stringent gun control laws. Then run before they shoot you.

23.          If you believe your child deserves to be safe at school, at home, and in your neighborhood, then support the same for children who may live in neighborhoods and go to schools that are different from yours. Every child deserves that right. Find a way to personally support that belief.

24.          Do not paint a group of people with a broad brush based on one attribute, like skin color or socio-economic status. Every person is an individual, and if you want to be treated as an individual, you ought to treat others the same way. All white people are not the same, and that is true of everyone of every ethnicity, race, gender, and socio-economic class.

25.          Understand that this is America, and that all Americans have the right to be where they are: walking down the street, standing on the walkway of a community, buying Skittles at the convenience store, and going home to watch the second half of the game. Stop thinking some people are more deserving of our freedoms than others. We should all enjoy the freedoms we share as Americans, and you should fight hard for that concept or one day you may find yourself on the wrong side of freedom.

26.          If you are a man, treat women as your equals, not as a sex objects, property, or a baby vessels. Stop supporting legislation that controls women’s reproductive rights. Fight for equal work for equal pay. Don’t support the sex industry because it exploits young women.

27.          If you are here in America because your family migrated here sometime in the last 600 years, support immigration reform. If you don’t support it, you are a hypocrite, and perhaps you should follow your own advice and go back to your country of origin if it will take you.

28.          Do not spend one dime to support the economy of red states that pass laws that are constitutionally questionable, let businesses buy their politicians and political leaders, treat some of their citizens as less than equal, and allow their citizens to be irresponsible gun owners. Your children will grow up just fine if you don’t take them to Disney World.

29.          Teach your children to care for others and to have empathy and compassion for people who may be different from them. Empathy is our greatest equalizer because it opens the mind and squashes irrational judgments.

30.          If you identify as a white American, teach your children about race and ethnicity. Talk to them about white privilege and tell them that it is unfair and that everyone should be treated equally in every circumstance. Teach them to challenge privilege when they benefit because of it. The world will be a better place.

31.          Stop watching Fox News. They are not a news station; they are an entertainment station paid by the likes of ALEC and the Koch brothers to spread the lies and the agenda of the extreme right. Not one word uttered on that station is truthful or newsworthy, so protect your brain cells.

32.          Stop thinking that you are more American than the rest of us. We are a country that willingly took in people other countries didn’t care about. Let’s celebrate our diversity and understand that America has many different faces and perspectives that make us a great country.

Moral Monday at the North Carolina Legislature.

A photo from my local paper depicting counter demonstrators at the Trayvon Martin rally in Winston-Salem, NC.

To Trayvon, with Love

Dear Trayvon,

I am so sorry that we let you down on the night you died. I am so sorry that you did not receive justice in our court system.

I signed a petition seventeen months ago when I first heard about your death, your murder, Trayvon. I wrote five posts about you in the weeks after, trying to sort out just how America found itself at this place in our history where people not only carry guns but use them and then get away with murder, and at this place where being a black male is STILL dangerous and often fatal. Then I spent the last five weeks following the trial as if my own life depended on it, and, Trayvon, my life did depend on it.

We got home last night and the first thing I did was turn on the TV and flip through the news channels looking for an update on whether or not the jury had come to a verdict, and within minutes I saw the breaking news banner at the bottom of the screen. Ronald and I held our breaths while the court reassembled, all except for your parents, and I felt their absence keenly though I understood why they were not there. I know I would not have been able to hear those words as your parent.

I could only shake my head as the verdict was announced.

“Five white women,” Ronald said. “I told you they’d acquit.”

I hadn’t wanted to believe that the all female jury would acquit George Zimmerman. I wanted to believe, all along, that George Zimmerman would stand up in court and ask for the lies to stop, as first his mother, then his uncle, then his father testified that the screaming on the 911 call was his voice and not yours. I wanted him to admit that he had made terrible, fatal choices that night based on his own biases and hatred and that those choices will forever echo through history and the universe as a reminder of our inhumanity.

But Ronald thought I was naïve.

I began to cry when he told me there is no hope for black people in America. There is nothing left to do, nowhere to go, he said, because nothing will change. I believe so much of what he says, because he has such wisdom about these things, but I know in this case, Trayvon, it is his survival as a black man in this awful, racist country, in spite of his many brushes with other people’s potentially fatal decisions, in stark contrast to your short-lived life, that has left him full of despair.

“We can’t give up,” I said, sobs choking my words.

And I won’t, Trayvon, because you can’t have died in vain.  For every George Zimmerman out there, let there be three or four or eight or thousands who learn how to see you, and all black boys and men, as the person you are, not just the color of your skin. Let there be ten or a hundred or a thousand or millions who know that you belong and have a right to belong and will fight for your right to belong at the store, in the rain, on the walkway, in the gated community your father lived in, in Sanford, in Florida, in the United States of America. You belonged here. You had a right to be here. George Zimmerman was in the wrong place and doing the wrong thing. He acted like a thug that night, because thugs are people who have ill intent and who carry weapons to hurt and kill others, and it doesn’t matter what their skin color is or what clothes they wear, because that isn’t what makes them thugs.

We failed you, Trayvon. Not because your parents didn’t talk to you the way my husband Ronald talked to our daughters, just as his father talked to him and his siblings, and his grandfather talked to his father.

“You can’t do what they do,” Ronald told our daughters. And I know your parents told you that, too, because they were good and loving parents and they wanted to keep you safe from a country that hates you because of the color of your skin.

We failed you, because we allowed the rising tide of racism to crash over our country unabated. We failed you, because we let gun legislation through that supports irresponsible gun ownership. We failed you, because we sat on the laurels of the Civil Rights Movement and grew complacent. We failed you, because George Zimmermans exist everywhere in this country and will continue to profile black boys like you and shoot to kill them.

But we won’t fail your memory, Trayvon. You will be remembered, as the Martin family lawyer, Benjamin Trump, said last night, and “forever remain in the annals of history next to Medgar Evers and Emmett Till as symbols for the fight for equal justice for all.”

Know, Trayvon, that there are white people who get it. Not all of them, not even half of them, probably not even a third of them, but there are white people, like me, who understand what it is to be black in America because we have been fortunate or unfortunate enough to experience what you experienced as, in my case, a wife and mother and daughter-in-law and sister-in-law and aunt and friend.

I, for one, will pledge to fight on your behalf.

I just signed a petition for the federal government to re-open their suspended investigation. I wrote the following comment:

This is a socially important case. It cannot be the precedent that it is okay to shoot and kill black boys because they are perceived through the lens of racism. Trayvon Martin did nothing different than millions of other boys his age do every day -- he went out to buy a snack and was talking on his cell phone as he walked back home. He had a right to be there. George Zimmerman had no right to profile him from a distance, pursue him, not identify himself [to Trayvon], and then shoot Trayvon at point blank range in the heart. Please investigate this fatal act that denied Trayvon his fundamental civil rights and his life.

Know that men like my husband, though crushed by the disrespect and humiliation they have endured in their lifetimes as they trail-blazed the way toward equality, will continue their fight for justice, even at their personal peril.  They will push through their depression and weariness because they don’t want you to live the life they did. They want it to be better, like when my father-in-law moved from Sanford, FL (where relatives still live) up north so his children would not grow up under Jim Crow laws.

And white people like me will be at their sides, just like whites marched beside Martin Luther King, Jr.  We know it is wrong. We believe you when you tell us how it is for you as a black boy living in a racist country. We’ve even experienced it vicariously, like when the Southern white man stood in our garage when we had a neighborhood yard sale a few weeks back and told us how all blacks live off the government. He said that standing in the garage of our newly constructed home, looking directly at our Infiniti G37S parked in the garage along with Ronald’s motorcycle, and our CRV and our daughter’s Mazda 3 parked at the curb so our driveway would fit the lawn tractor, refrigerator, and chandelier we were selling. I guess they were all bought with food stamps, Trayvon, because, according to him and many other white people, all black people are on the dole and too lazy to work. I slipped into the house, and Ronald told the white man, “You have to go now.”

I wish someone had been there the night George Zimmerman decided you didn’t belong in his neighborhood, even though it was obviously multi-cultural and multi-racial. I wish just one person had stepped out of his or her house and said to Zimmerman, “You have to go now. Let this boy return safely home. He belongs here.”

Trayvon, we will continue the fight for the right of all Americans to belong, to be equal under the law, and to be judged by one’s character and not a physical feature or clothing. We cannot rip racism from a person’s brain, but we can fight the good fight and remove the racism from our institutions and our systems and our laws. One day, people like George Zimmerman will be just a memory, but unlike your memory, we will not remember his name but only his deed that reminded us how far we had to go.

With love and hope,

Dianne

Trayvon, for your parents and your brother and for all of us who love you and who won't forget you, this is how you will be remembered, in this photo taken just ten days before you were murdered

The Door of No Return

I haven’t been able to write for weeks.  I’ve attempted. I have pages and pages of words strung together, but none of it seems right. None of it expresses precisely what I want to say. None of it captures my moodiness, sense of urgency, restlessness, sadness, and discomfort. I can’t put a finger on it, let alone write about it.

My dreams are strange – secret missions, magic, journeys, Ricky Ricardo (not Desi Arnaz), mystery, murder, and chaos. They are an every morning occurrence in the quiet minutes before my alarm sounds. Some mornings I am relieved by the beeping of the alarm, and other days I wish to slide back into my alternate universe.

Most of my conversations and posts to FaceBook these days are political in nature. They center on equal rights and immigration and the Supreme Court decisions and reproductive health and jobs and health care and scandals and gun laws and the Democrats and the Republicans and the liberals and the conservatives and the poor and the wealthy and the minorities and the majority and the great divide in our country.

Sometimes Ronald says, “I know how much you want to talk about this (or that), but I can’t anymore. Not right now. I’ve lived this stuff my whole life. It hasn’t changed.”

He’s right. I’ve lived some stuff for parts of my life and other stuff for all of my life, and I understand how it can become overwhelming, how it can blot out what little light we have during our time on this earth because the stuff of which we speak is darkness and hatred and separation and blindness and ignorance and judgment and intolerance.

Can we alleviate ignorance? I believe sometimes ignorance is willful.

Can we erase hatred from a person’s mind? I believe it is learned behavior, but sometimes it seems organic, almost genetic, perhaps inherited like one’s ethnic knowing and migration pattern and the lore of the family and group from which it emanates. It’s powerful in that it blinds one from seeing another way, perhaps a better way or more righteous way, and it causes one to lie and to make excuses and to blame the target of the hatred.

Why is it common for some people to believe the following? Poor people are lazy. They don’t want to work. They feel entitled. Black men are suspicious just because they are black. Women need strong white men to make their reproductive health decisions because they can’t handle it on their own. Women don’t own their bodies. Women do not deserve equal pay for equal work. Minorities do not need doors to be opened in the workplace or at institutions of higher education by the law of the land because they are not qualified anyway. Gay people are bad and sinful and an abomination, and they could change if they wanted to. Illegal immigrants don’t want to assimilate. They want to steal our jobs and our country. Muslims are jealous of our freedoms and they are terrorists. Americans are white, and able, and smart, and fair, and deserving.

I am a woman. I am white, ethnically Irish and Italian. I am a Christian with no church affiliation though I spent my first twelve years as a Catholic and a year or two as a Lutheran. I grew up poor and lived on welfare for a short time in my childhood when my father had a heart attack and the doctor was not sure if he could return to work. I’m married to a black man – we are uncertain of his full ethnic makeup but know he is descended from slaves. I am identified as white when I am alone. I am identified as black or other or an abomination when I am with my husband. I made a terrible error in life when I married Ronald thirty years ago and gave birth to interracial twins twenty-nine years ago, at least according to some who feel no shame in letting us know what they think.

So many things are happening right now, personally and collectively, that shock my sensibilities. Each incident feels like a violent assault and my words jumble in my head.

I remember the ‘70s when I met my husband freshman year of college. The possibilities seemed endless. The feminist movement had taught me I was equal to men. The Civil Rights movement meant that we were all equal under the law. It was a new day, and we were unafraid even when stuff happened because we wanted to believe it was just the individual, that the collective thoughts on gender and race had changed.

Almost 40 years later, I know it isn’t just the individual. It’s a collective paranoia and attitude and hatred and fear and anger and wielding of power that makes stuff happen. It’s the collective trashing of whole groups of people and of individuals. It is the deafening silence of the horde that feels no outrage. It is the hurtful reality that no matter what, if you are not part of the majority, you are at risk of being judged differently and unkindly and harmfully and dangerously and fatally.

We are moving backwards quickly and harshly and violently. The movements that propelled women and minorities closer to equality, begun so many ages ago and fought and died for over generations, are stalled, and there is opposing momentum to push them backwards.

And the effort to push us backwards gets more vicious as the stakes go up, and the groups behind the pushback are more open about their intent, proud of their intent, strong in their conviction that some are more equal than others and are more entitled to enjoy this great country.

When we go one step forward toward equality, we are pushed back three steps. The SCOTUS decision to strike down DOMA vs. the SCOTUS decision to strike down the Voting Rights Act – one step forward, three steps back. The proverbial ink is not even dry, and the ones who believe some are more equal than others start the process to make inequality the law.

I am offended by Paula Deen’s tearful apologies on television after she lost her partnerships with several companies including Wal-Mart, Smithfield, Target, Home Depot, and the Food Network. I am offended that she wants me to believe she is the victim. I am offended that she wants me to tell her it is okay if she expresses her racist thoughts or that she took credit for cuisine that was stolen from enslaved people or that she peddled a quick path to diabetes and obesity. I am offended that many Americans believe she has a right to believe that people of a different race are inferior. I am offended that these same Americans claim it is their heritage that makes it righteous.

I am angry Paula Deen used her celebrity and wealth to try to protect her empire when her words and actions were so damaging, not just to the people they personally harmed but to our country that struggles to live up to its best ideals every day and every hour. I am angry that her book sales skyrocketed since this story broke, and I am flabbergasted by one comment out on the Wal-Mart website posted in response to Wal-Mart severing their partnership with Deen, “Way to go in supporting a fellow Southerner.”

What about all the Southerners who are descendents of slaves?

I am offended that some people believe Trayvon Martin didn’t have the right to walk to his father’s house in the rain. They believe he didn’t belong there, much like one of my neighbors who sent an email to the neighborhood saying there was a suspicious black man in the neighborhood carrying a clipboard. So scary! Another neighbor, an octogenarian, walked down her driveway and asked the man what he was doing. He said he was leaving bulletins in mailboxes about a landscape business. He was doing what countless other people working for small businesses do in this city, but because he was black, even in my multicultural neighborhood, it was assumed he was there for ill intent.

I am offended by the cross examination by the defense team of Rachel Jeantel, Trayvon Martin’s friend, who was on the phone with him just seconds before he was shot and killed by George Zimmerman. I am offended by the defense team’s culturally insensitive questions and their effort to discredit her testimony.

I am angry that hardly anyone is asking if Trayvon feared for his life as he was pursued by an aggressive stranger who meant to do him harm. If someone were chasing you, wouldn’t you be fearful?

I am angry the GOP came out and said the striking of DOMA will bring society to a stop. There are so many other things that will stop society long before equality will. If they are worried about the sanctity of marriage, gay couples may be its last hope and bring it back in vogue.

I am angry that many white Southerners feel compelled to comment on my almost 40 years old interracial relationship often and offensively. I am angry that many white people consider themselves racial experts although they have spent their lives pretending they are race-less while assigning those they consider racial by describing them as other and different and negative. They have conversations about how people of color are racist, like the George Zimmerman defense team or Paula Deen or the GOP. They blame the victims of racism instead of the perpetrators and perpetuators of it.

They feel self-righteous, not righteous, in their stance. They are horrible, mean-spirited, vicious, small-minded people. There, I’ve said it. It doesn’t make me feel better. It makes me sad and angry and frustrated and disappointed and tired.

President Obama and his family visited the Door of No Return in Senegal this week. Millions of men, women, and children passed through this door and onto ships that transported them to the Americas where they were sold into slavery. I can only wonder at how powerful a moment that was for him, as I was struck silent just viewing footage of it in the media.

Such a long journey for millions of people, and such a horrible, inhuman fate awaited them. Yet, as a country, we refuse to address our hand in it and the awful legacy that is still evident in race relations today. That’s why my words left me. In 2008 I had hope, and now, each day and each hour, I watch in horror as our country steps through what feels like the door of no return. If only we could stop the horde and take a moment to regroup as one country of equal citizens under the law. Maybe then I’ll find my words again.

This painting helps to illustrate what my words fail to tell

The Obamas at the Door of No Return

Hurricane Sandy and the Campaign Saga of Racism

I was supposed to travel for work this week, right into the wrath of Sandy, but, fortunately, I was authorized to cancel my trip. I live to work and play another day.

Canceling the ugliness, vitriol, and racism in this campaign is a little more difficult. It’s impossible.  There is more and more evidence, despite loud protestation, that many citizens in our proud country are voting on just one issue: the race of the candidates.

Among Republicans and Democrats alike, an AP Poll showed that 51% of Americans express explicit racist attitudes, and when asked implicit questions, the number jumps to 56% of Americans who have racist attitudes.

That means 1 out of 2 people in America harbors racist beliefs and attitudes. That’s hard to deny, even though I’ve heard lots of people saying defensively, “It’s the President and his policies I don’t like, not his race.” Oftentimes statements like, “He’s not American,” or “He needs to go back to Kenya,” follow.

I’m including just a few of the photos that I found out on the Internet. These images are more than just policy attacks. They are blatantly racist. Why aren't people more outraged? Why aren't we calling to end this kind of racist attack on President Obama?

Colbert I. King wrote an op ed piece on how racism might impact the outcome of this election. He gives several examples of the kind of freewheeling racism that has been making its way around the Internet (including the above photos). See his article Racism Could Sway the Election.

Racism still exists. It is so pervasive and ingrained in our language, mainstream culture, and institutions that most people don't recognize it. It exists in the veiled language of the GOP, which is openly courting racists to get more votes.

One of the most prevalent stereotypes is the perception that most black people are on Welfare and most Welfare recipients are black. This stereotype is reinforced in the media and by many conservative politicians. It's the idea that underserving people of color who are too lazy to take personal responsibility for their lives are using our hard-earned tax dollars to support extravagant lifestyles. In fact, according to this stereotype, they feel entitled to receive this free money while the rest of us (read that as white people) work for a living only to pay exorbitant taxes to support these freeloaders.

The statistics show that most people on Welfare are not black. Over 65% are white or other races. A large percentage live in rural areas and not urban centers. Yet the image of a single, urban, black mother is what most people call to mind when asked to picture someone on Welfare.

The image of the Welfare Queen, originally introduced by President Reagan, is a stereotype that grew from one case of Welfare fraud that was exaggerated and distorted so much so that it is unrecognizable from the real case. The original woman charged with Welfare fraud embezzled $8,000 and had four assumed names to collect the extra money. Reagan said the Welfare Queen, “Has eighty names, thirty addresses, twelve Social Security cards and is collecting veteran's benefits on four non-existing deceased husbands. And she is collecting Social Security on her cards. She's got Medicaid, getting food stamps, and she is collecting welfare under each of her names. Her tax-free cash income is over $150,000."

Though Welfare fraud is rare and no one can stay on Welfare indefinitely because of the Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Act passed by President Clinton, the image of the Welfare abusing, single black mother continues strongly today. You can hear it in Romney’s closed-door speech given to his wealthy financial backers when he talked about the 47% who refuse to take personal responsibility and who want government handouts.

In response to Reagan's use of the term Welfare Queen, Susan Douglas, a professor of communication studies at the University of Michigan, writes:

"He specialized in the exaggerated, outrageous tale that was almost always unsubstantiated, usually false, yet so sensational that it merited repeated recounting… And because his ‘examples’ of welfare queens drew on existing stereotypes of welfare cheats and resonated with news stories about welfare fraud, they did indeed gain real traction."

Read more about the stereotype of the Welfare Queen on Wiki.

Then we have the stereotype of what young black men are like. Just this past week I was speaking to a friend about the Trayvon Martin case, and she interrupted me and said, "But he was a thug. He was looking in windows, and he had no right to be there."

"No," I said. "You've been watching too much Fox News. He had every right to be there. He was just a high school boy who happened to be tall and who wore a hoodie. That should not have been reason enough for him to die."

Besides, Ronald and I agreed later when I told him of my conversation, even if he were a thug (and we truly don't believe he was anything but an average high school kid), did he deserve to be killed for it?

According to the stereotype, if you are a young, black male, you should avoid wearing what 90% of teenage boys wear on a daily basis -- hoodies and baggy pants, and you should not go out at night or be seen in the street even in daylight, because you are obviously planning a criminal or violent act. And if someone approaches you brandishing a gun, you should not defend yourself because, obviously, the white man with the gun (who since being charged is now identified as Hispanic) has a right to trail you against the advice of the police and shoot you if he deems you need to be shot. Of course, he had already decided you needed to be shot when he saw you crossing the community grounds with a bag of Skittles and a can of iced tea. He probably spotted your evil eyes from 50 yards away (see my post on evil eyes Profiling Fatality 3: The Demonization of George Zimmerman) and intuited your next move of ill intent.

Read The Thugification of Trayvon Martin, an op ed by Zerlina Maxwell, about the stereotypes that came out after Trayvon Martin died from gunshot.

Does America really believe that Trayvon Martin should have been shot and killed for walking back to his father's gated community home, because he was tall, black, and wearing a hoodie? If you believe the answer is 'yes' you may be part of the 51% who explicitly express racist beliefs. If you can't say it out loud but have your doubts, you may be part of the 56% who have implicit racist beliefs.

I stated in this blog in past posts (Can't We All Get Along? and Checking the Other Box) that if you are white in America (I include myself in this definition), you are a racist simply because your skin color affords you privilege and entitlement at the expense of other races and ethnicities. That idea always seems to raise people's ire and defensiveness, but it is true, and we have to acknowledge this fact before we can move on to a post-racial world.

When I was in graduate school for my first master's degree, I studied to become a counselor. The students studying with me were diverse in age (I was one of the oldest at forty-five), but predominately white and middle class. While multiculturalism was mentioned in every course, I constantly wondered why recruiting efforts warranted such dismally monocultural results in the student population. Several professors agreed that recruiting efforts had not warranted the diversity they envisioned but they couldn't really articulate a plan for drawing more students of color into the program.

There was one core course that specifically addressed multiculturalism. That's where I was introduced to the writing of one of my favorite researchers in the counseling field, Monica McGoldrick. She is, in my opinion, the foremost expert in multicultural counseling practice that acknowledges the ways in which culture and ethnicity inform an individual's worldview and the context in which that individual develops.

I was stoked about this course. I couldn't put the books down. Suddenly, many of the things I experienced and witnessed about race (and gender and class) were documented in research. I couldn't wait for the class each week where I hoped for some honest discussion. 

I quickly learned that the course was merely an awareness course, not an in-depth study. One week the professor emailed me just hours before class started and asked if I could hold some of my comments. She said she didn't want the other students intimidated by my level of knowledge. The email upset me. Why would she not encourage such discussion?

The shiny star I thought I had discovered in the program began to look tarnished. I realized that not even the faculty wanted to reach the level of understanding that my life experience had brought me to.

In the counseling practice course, I was told by the professors that my counseling skills were the most advanced they had ever observed for someone who had never worked in the counseling field prior to matriculating into the program, yet several of my student observers critiqued my counseling method of including questions about my client's ethnicity and culture harshly, saying I made too much of culture and ethnicity. My practice patients rated my sessions as very helpful and felt my skills aided in making them feel comfortable in the sessions. I felt sad that many of the students who would obtain their counseling credentials would venture out feeling multiculturalism was a theoretical concept but not something they would consider as part of their practice.

In another class we used a textbook that included a chapter on multiculturalism that I felt crossed the line into stereotyping, but the professor I took my complaint to only said that the author was a good friend and well-respected colleague who had been teaching for many, many years.

When I realized that the conversation about race and ethnicity was not going to take place in this program, and that there were literally thousands of white, middle-class people graduating from this and other counseling programs across the country, all of whom would be responsible for the well-being of their multicultural client base, I transferred out of the program and finished out my master's in Professional Education Studies at another university.

Sad but true. I gave up out of frustration. I felt the weight of obligation to talk about what I experienced, to be a voice for multicultural understanding, but I have often seen that one voice is hardly effective. At the end of obtaining my first master's degree, I realized my personal ethics are of much greater value to me than a sheepskin saying I have the credentials to practice counseling on other people, especially when I think that some counselors' approaches would actually be harmful to their multicultural clients.

We have to have that conversation about race and racism. We have to talk about the details, go into depth, and move way beyond awareness. We have to address how racism is both pervasive and accepted in mainstream culture, and that not all Americans are treated equally depending on the color of their skin. We have to remember that even if one thinks s/he is not racist, if you are white in America you are racist by virtue of the privilege you enjoy by being white, and that 56% of Americans implicitly express negative racial attitudes and beliefs.

So may I ask you to take a simple quiz? It's the How Racist Are You? quiz, and is just one of many out on the Internet. The results are for your eyes only. The quiz is simply a way to be completely truthful with yourself about how you feel about race. Don't answer what you think should be the answer; just be honest. If you can't be honest with yourself, who can you be honest with?

Then, after you have taken the quiz, please pass it on to your friends and family so they can take it. Again, the results are for their eyes only, unless you and they are moved to have that conversation about race. I approve of that kind of sharing.

I took the quiz just to see if it was a good tool and to see how my beliefs rated. Just because I am interracially married with children doesn't mean I don't harbor racial attitudes, and, as I stated earlier, my white skin affords me privileges my husband and grown daughters are denied. I'm open to exploring that concept, else why would I ask others to do so.

The quiz rated me as “Optimistically Openminded.”

It went on to say:

You are about as open-minded as they come. It's a rarity, but you actually see people as being the same but having different circumstances and cultures. You think stereotypes only serve to dehumanize groups. If more people were like you the world would be a little less hateful. 
Suggestion: Register with Altruists R Us. 
Similar Personalities: MLK, Mother Theresa, Jesus of Nazareth.

As Hurricane Sandy reaches eastern US shores, I hope, in my optimistically openminded way, that we can start talking about how outraged we all are by the racism directed at our President. Then maybe when someone says they don't like Obama's policies, I'll believe that person instead of wondering if s/he is picturing him in a hoodie with evil eyes.  And just maybe, at the close of our conversation on race, the world will be a little less hateful.