Last night I had a remarkable conversation with my
mother. And although I am ashamed to
admit the rarity in which we talk, I am even more ashamed that we rarely get
passed small talk and family updates.
During our discussion two interesting topics came up. The first was a recent concert she attended
where the popular 1960-70's band Sly and the Family Stone performed. The other topic was Barack Obama’s recent speech
concerning race and the Trayvon Martin verdict.
While we discussed Sly my mother confessed that although she
had an excellent time at the event, she didn’t possess the stamina to wait for
Sly and his band to finally enter the stage.
And when she confessed this point I had remembered from old pictures
from an old photo album that she didn’t need to. She was fortunate enough to have witnessed
him in his hay day. And in my envy of
such an historic moment I started thinking about any moments in my life that
could compare. I came up with two, the
time I saw Prince at Madison Square Garden and the time I saw David Bowie at Jones
Beach. My mother marveled at the latter
confessing that in all of her 62 years she had never paid to see a white
performer. In my attempt to explain the
appeal of Bowie the best I could come up with was that he was cool and composed
kind of like a white Marvin Gaye who plays rock music. And from that
description we both agreed that there is something very special about people
who command the attention of large amounts of people without all of the drama
and jumping around like many of today’s artists. While we discussed all of these things I
started to realize that although we are both very capable conversationalists
rarely did we ever at least knowingly devote so much time to discussing music,
politics and race at the same time.
My mother’s statement about never witnessing a white
performer started me thinking about the president’s request for the country to
have more personal conversations in their homes, churches, etc. about the topic
of race. I also thought about Obama’s
optimistic statements about the future and how he believes that based on his
observations of his own children, they are better than us. This statement evoked many thoughts and
questions in my mind. For example, it is
only now in my adult life that I can even mention without shame that I attended
a Bowie concert. If I had asked my
parents for money to see him when he was in his hay day, I don’t think that my
request would have been met with much enthusiasm. It would be safe to say that seeing Sly would
have been much more acceptable. And
although some of the blame can be placed on them for this attitude, I can’t
deny that the times were also a major factor.
In those times our education about race began at birth. We had to be conscious of both our identities
and the ‘enemy’s’. And although I
attended a school that was 50% white and 50% black and I studied and played on
the same sports teams as this so-called enemy, their was still a voice in my
head that kept me constantly aware that getting too close to him would be
frowned upon by my family and my black peers.
The blatant economic and legal inequities that my parents experienced of
course were the reason for this distrust.
So when they reached adulthood they were content living their lives in a
community where everyone looked like them.
In this regard they were no different than any other working class Americans
in any other homogeneous community. My
parents knew that the melting pot that many politicians had spoken about was an
illusion and our conversations about race although rare reflected these
feelings. Any discussions about this
topic with them or other black mentors were to protect us from the realities
that affected their lives when they were young.
They intended to give us tools of awareness to deal with those realities. Their preparation I believe has yielded
varied affects.
In the communities where I have taught the African-Americans
who reside there have inherited their parents’ sensibilities about race. Distrust
of “the man” is still an acceptable way of life because their education about him
and the threat he represents is especially apropos when these same individuals arrest
their fathers or kill their peers on a regular basis. The president to his credit did touch on
this, but the question that remains is how do the tools from the past apply
when the discussion reaches outside of the community where the enemy could be a
professor who grades them unfairly or boss who doesn’t give a much deserved
promotion? As a teacher how do I show my
students that the purpose of the endless discussions, homework and essays is to
prepare them for the larger world where individuals that have zero regard for
them have the power to manipulate their destinies? This is hard to achieve when the very
individuals you want to prepare regard you as the enemy because of your pattern
of speech or because you wear a tie to work.
Many of these kids attend schools where they are 99% of the
population. In many of their minds the enemy that exists outside of their
communities is still invisible even though he casts a long shadow called the
NYPD. I have often wondered if they even care about this apparition that so
many have warned them about. And why
would they even consider having a discussion about him if in their immediate
realities he doesn’t even exist? The
president said that the younger generation is better. I have personally witnessed this in the
advanced English class I taught. But I
still wonder if discussions are being held when we, possibly the last
generation to be so preoccupied with the subject is not in the room? Are the discussions the president witnessed
happening because of his status as president?
Does class play a role in these discussions? Are the youth better
because they are better equipped to discuss these matters or have they just
decided that the subject is just not that interesting? I decided to ask my own
children. Both of their responses were
quite telling. The first was from my son
CJ age 3.
Me- CJ what color are
you?
CJ- I don’t
know. Can I have some apple juice?
I asked my daughter Autumn, age 10 a different
question. This was her response.
Me: When you are around your friends and family
your age, do you ever talk about race?
Autumn: What do you mean race?
Me: You know black people; white people; how we
relate to one another?
Autumn: No, we never
talk about race.
I noticed that in both of these conversations neither of my children
had any concept of race, which may prove one thing. All of these concepts like race, politics, etc.
are preoccupations of older generations that have possibly been using too much
jumping around and drama to get their point across. Maybe we have done so much talking about these
issues amongst ourselves and when given the opportunity dictating them to
our children that maybe they are unifying under the common goal of escaping the drama. Maybe all they want is a little peace and quiet and some damn juice. Maybe our kids are better. We’ll just have to wait and see.
