Let the Ass Kicking Begin

Take a look at this guy. This is Robert Powell. Young guy. Not bad looking. A nice, young Texas man who serves his community as a police officer.

Know what else is he? A shining example of everything that is wrong with the police in this country.

Thanks to this idiot, we have yet another indefensible example of police abuse of power. Not because the policeman drew his gun on the occupants of a car who ran a red light on their way to the hospital, which he did. Nor that the officer ignores the pleas of the driver who explains over and over and over that he has a dying parent in the hospital RIGHT NOW, which he did. Nor that the officer spends an extraordinary amount of time lecturing the driver on his "attitude", which he did. Nor that he threatened to arrest the driver and tow his vehicle because his "attitude sucked", which he does. Nor even that he does so in all likelihood because the driver is African American. It is indefensible because the officer failed to demonstrate any human decency or compassion at all. I implore you. Watch the video. Please. Do it. See what black people go through in this country. Please. Then read this. It's from field negro. Keep in mind the field is an attorney. Not some under-educated race-baiting blogger. Note what he says he does when he is pulled over for a traffic stop.

as a black man I know all the rules of survival when stopped by the po po, especially if I am on another planet like Texas. I know to keep my hands where they can be seen. I know to point to where my registration and insurance card is, and to tell the officer when I am reaching for it. And I know to dial my programmed home number in my cell phone (to get my home recording device) as the officer approaches my car, and keeping my cell phone on all times. I know to make sure I make a mental note of the officer's badge number and his name. And finally, I know to always show my pearly whites before my yes and no sirs.

Compare that to what you do (if you are white). Say what you will. If that police officer had pulled me over, I seriously doubt that traffic stop would have gone down the same way.

The Dallas police chief, made a formal apology and noted that the officer--after reviewing the tape of the traffic stop--still didn't think he had done anything wrong.

Ryan Moats' mother-in-law died in the 14 minutes that he and his father-in-law were detained by Robert Powell. A father did not have the opportunity to say goodbye to his daughter. Ryan did not get to be there for his wife as her mother died. Nope. Ryan and his father-in-law were too busy putting up with this overblown egomaniac in the parking lot. THAT is indefensible.

How the hell Moats found the strength to "yes, sir" and "no, sir" this guy is beyond me.

Do you think this officer should keep his job? Do you think the 14-minute lesson and lecture that he delivers to Ryan and his father-in-law was more important than allowing them to see their mother-in-law and daughter as she lay dying? Do you think it is fair that the father-in-law felt compelled to stay behind with his son-in-law because he feared for the young man's safety given the officer's attitude? Do you think that anything that Ryan Moat did justified being detained for 14-minutes when time was at a premium?

I sure don't. For fuck's sake, A NURSE came out of the hospital to implore the officer to speed it up.

This officer should not keep his job. There is a case to be made for imposing pain and suffering in this situation. Powell should get no immunity from prosecution. Powell's behavior underscores the lack of proper training for police officers in this country. It underscores the lack of proper recruiting, screening, and self-policing. Powell demonstrates poor judgement and judgement in tense situations is EXACTLY what we demand of police officers. Grace under fire. This guy is nothing more than a prick with a badge and a gun. I know plenty of a passive-aggressive pricks who try to manipulate a conversation by maintaining a calm voice while making outrageous and unreasonable demands on others. In cases like this, don't let demeanor cloud your perception of who is out of control. This is a textbook film of COPS GONE WILD. I believe the officer did this because Moats failed to defer to him, failed to lick his boots, failed to show fear. Suspend that idiot without pay. Fire him forthwith. And I hope the guy can't get a job as a rent-a-cop at a parking lot after this.

The part I find most unbelievable is that Powell acted this way with full knowledge that he was being taped. Powell's car camera filmed the incident. But then again, what do you expect from someone who thinks this is acceptable behavior? I seriously question the screening being undertaken in Dallas for police recruits.

On the likelihood that these actions were racially motivated. Call it my peculiar love interests (although I don't find them all that peculiar), but I find the inability of white society to SEE black people, but black men in particular, as PEOPLE, as one of the great failures, embarrassments, and deficiencies of which we should be collectively ashamed. I think it is time we did a little house cleaning ourselves. Because this officer is not an isolated incident.

I was in Quatros Friday evening with D-friend Bek, trying to enjoy a pizza and pitcher, when a white man in his 30s and his wife walked in, sat at the booth next to ours and then began to wax philosophical about niggers. I was incensed. I was just about to get up and give this bucked-tooth hillbilly a piece of my mind, when Bek implored me to let it go. As I didn't want to embarrass my friend, I did as she wished. But had I been alone, I imagine that both Mr. Bucktoothed Hillbilly and I probably would have been kicked out of Quatros following the discussion that ensued.

I thought about this afterwords. It dawned on me that this guy sat down in a public place, took one look around and saw that there were no people of color around and began to harp on what I'm sure was one of his favorite subjects: those damn niggers. I don't want this guy to feel that kind of safety any more. I want this guy to understand in no uncertain terms that a sea of white people isn't safe for the likes of him anymore. Dirty looks don't cut it. They feel invincible. I want to make the bigots as uncomfortable as humanly possible. I want this guy to sit down in a restaurant and think twice before he starts in on the hate speech. I want him to wonder from what direction and how strong the fire power is that is going to hit him if he so much as DARES to do that kind of shit again. Not only that, I want the owners of the establishment know that their customers won't tolerate hate speech and if they intend to enable it, their customers will go elsewhere. I want them to know that it's not just my business, but the business of everyone I know. (Trust me, no one I know is going to take their pet to the Lakeside Veterinary Clinic.) I am damn tired of letting it slide. I am sick and tired of white people thinking that they are safe to spout hatred in a room full of white people. I am sick and tired of having some white people think white means hate for everything non-white. I don't hate and I'm pulling the plug on that fantasy.

I am putting everyone who knows me on notice. I'm not letting this stuff slide any more. If we encounter the ignorant, racist sort that are bent on making others listen to their bigotry, I'm not shutting up. I'm not letting it go. I'm speaking up. In my family. Among my friends. In a place of business. On the street. At the park. I don't care anymore. Something in me snapped today. I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore. I hope you'll stand with me, but if you don't, I'll stand alone. I'll understand if you take a walk. But I am done accommodating, tolerating and ignoring racial bigotry.

I think of the black men I know and count among my friends, J, Guv, Curtis, David, and okay, maybe even Stewart and Alvin, I see people. One is smarter than me. One is richer than me. One is waaaaay harder working than me. One is more talented than me. One is the sweetest, most gentle man imaginable. One has such an amazing personality that I feel better every time I talk to him. I don't see scientists, or businessmen, or average joes, or entertainers, or pencil pushers or blue-collar guys. I don't even see black guys. I see real people with real ideas, and real hopes, real feelings and real lives. They wow me sometimes and make me laugh sometimes and make me feel their pain sometimes. And through them, I have come to understand that their lives and my life are not remotely close because they, somehow, have accepted that the world isn't the same for them and me. That anyone would see them any differently than I do because they have black skin or African ancestors makes no sense at all. I have white skin and European ancestors. They are good men and my friends and that's all that matters.

The buck stops with D. I'm here to tell you. Let the ass kicking begin.

Who needs to explain when you have this?

People have asked me why I care so much about racism. People think they know why, but they don't. I have always justified it rather flippantly by pointing toward my "overdeveloped sense of justice", but I think I can more directly point it toward two things. The first was the impact of reading To Kill a Mockingbird. The second was that first grainy black-and-white photograph I saw in a book somewhere of a public lynching in the American South. A black man swinging from a tree for nothing more than the crime of being black. I think it was more a function of tales of torture, mutilation and humiliation. It always seemed to me that we vilified Nazis for their crimes, but ignored the sin that went on in this country with tactic public and government approval.

I had this vision of fat, bigoted, cigar-chewing, law enforcement with crew cuts, always white, sitting in police cruisers and calling everyone darker than me, "boy". I had visions of farm boys in overalls being chastised for their "high spirits" when they chased some young black man on foot across bean fields, until he, leg muscles burning and gasping for breath, finally eluded them in the dark.

I also had visions of black men, too afraid to lift up their heads when walking down the street for fear that it might offend some passing white. Stooped black men living in fear of everything and everyone. Free only in the sanctuary of the church, with voice lifted up to God. I wondered how many men, living under those conditions, realized that no God was going to save them--their voices silenced and deprived of even that moment of joy and freedom.

And then I imagined living under those conditions. Not as a high-spirited farm boy, but as a black person, oppressed and hated. I imagined being a child and not playing in the street, but in the back to avoid the wrath of white drivers. I imagined being a mother and shushing my children to be quiet so as not to draw undue attention on the bus or in the stores. I imagined the epithets hurled out of nowhere and for no reason. I imagined the looks of white women who considered themselves too cultured to sling epithets, but whose stares stung equally as hard. I imagined a life of work in the homes of white people who "treated me like family" but didn't know my children's names, or what my husband did for a living, and who thought I wasn't like the rest of them. The ones who told me that I was part of the family when they wanted me to work on holidays, but somehow never recognized me on the street with my real family. And although I have never been accused of harboring a great deal of empathy, I imagined a life where none of this ever ended or ever appeared capable of ending. Amazingly enough, I understood and it was real for me.

Today, I read this article in the NY Times that brought all this back for me. These feelings I had I have had for a long time. I don't know why I was affected by these things, but I was. I don't know why it was me, but sometimes you are the only one who hears, who feels, and who understands. If you are that person, you bear responsibility to do something. Something. Anything. Even if you don't know what all the time.

In this, the midst of the Christmas season, the world is supposed to be filled with loving and good will. I'm decidedly not feeling it this year. It's been a hard year. On the one hand, Obama's election marks a milestone in our eradication of racism. But it has not erased it. Nor has it erased intolerance of Mexicans, immigrants, or the gay community. It has not stopped the problems in Darfur or Kinshasa. The world begs for voices who understand.

I think something in my heart told me that I needed to on the side of "right". Like Atticus Finch. I'm certain there are others out there, like me, who find it impossible to ignore or discount or shut up about what they see as an ongoing and pervasive injustice. Your friends and family may tire of it, but I implore you to work in the coming year to advance your cause--no matter what it is. They are listening. They are softening. Hearts can be turned. The world can change. Because. it. must.

Exercising my civic muscles

I voted today. Early. I went to the Jackson County courthouse. Had to wait in line if you can believe that. I purposely chose the courthouse because I knew they didn't have electronic voting machines. I am still a bit suspicious. I feel better now because I had a paper ballot. Paper ballots leave....a paper trail. In case of any recount, there will be no question about for whom I intended to vote.

Barack Obama and Joe Biden. Damn. =)

Ok, I was reading Samhita's post on the role of race in this election over at Feministing and I think I have a last few things to say about this before I await the big count.

First. I did not vote FOR Obama because he is black. Just because: A) I find black men attractive, B) have spoken out on the importance of electing a black American president, and C) have been droning on and on here like a schoolgirl with a crush on the captain of the football team does not mean I voted for him because he is black.

I will tell you exactly what it is that led me, on February 11, 2007, to join the movement to elect Barack Obama. I didn't know about Barack in the Illinois State Senate. I wasn't in his district so he eluded my radar. By 1996, I lived in the western suburbs and never returned to live in the City. My first exposure to Obama came, like almost everyone else, when he gave the keynote speech at the Democratic Convention in 2004. Wow is all I can tell you.

I remember the first time I ever saw Bill Clinton. I was watching C-Span. A freak occurrence back in those days, and they were doing a live feed from the national governors association meeting (I think). Bill was on a panel discussing education reform in Arkansas. I was captivated. I didn't think anything about it for a long time until he announced his candidacy for president and I knew I was voting for him immediately. I knew, from that first little snippet I heard that this man had the right stuff. That night at the 2004 Democratic Convention, I felt that same electricity about Obama. I was all in.

He ran for US Senate against Jack Ryan, a longtime Chicago name in politics. However, a sex scandal which saw Ryan's apparent *cough* sexual fetishes *cough* to come to light as the result of a bitter divorce battle, led him to withdraw from the race. The Republicans brought forward none other than Alan Keyes to challenge Obama, which is to say that there was no challenge mounted at all. Illinois may be an odd place and racial influences have a heavy hand in Chicago politics, but in the city that revered Harold Washington, Alan Keyes was a laughable puppet. It made me feel good to be able to vote for Obama. I was proud of our junior senator if not a little perplexed by all the attention he was receiving. Before he was even sworn into the Senate, reporters were asking about his presidential ambitions.

In any event, as the 2008 election season approached, there seemed to be renewed talk of his candidacy. I couldn't imagine that he would throw his hat in. When he did, I knew that his greatest competition was going to be Hillary. I have read Hillary's autobiography. I was not impressed. In fact, I was incredibly underwhelmed. Let's just say, she's no Madelein Albright. Despite having roots in Illinois, she never really impressed me. I know. I know. I'm a hard one. I'm trying like hell to think of a woman that HAS impressed me. Albright does. Ok. I promise to write a post on women who impress me. Back to the task at hand. February 11, 2007. He announced. That was it for me. I was in. All in.

But I never answered my own question. Why was I all in? Why did I have every confidence in this candidate who, admittedly, lacked the experience that the rest of the field possessed?

1. Intelligence. I have no doubt of Obama's intellectual prowess. I am someone who wants someone infinitely smarter than me in the Oval Office. Bush didn't make the grade. Cheney? Smart but in an evil genius sort of way. McCain doesn't make the grade. Hillary does. But of all these people, Obama is heads and shoulders above the competition.

2. World Vision. By this, I mean, he has a firm grasp on how others receive and perceive the United States. I think too many politicians are blinded by their own "patriotism" and love of country to ever put themselves in the other guy's shoes. And this is one area in which I think race plays a role. In the same way that black people understand that whites fail to grasp their own privilege, Obama's background and yes, his heritage, give him perspective that the rest of the field lacked. They flat out lack it. They can't buy it. They can't see past the tip of their noses.

3. Diplomacy. Diplomacy first. Diplomacy last. Diplomacy always. I am sick to freakin' death of this cowboy mentality that we ride in with our guns blazing and spread democracy by making the other guy stare down the barrel of a gun. See point 2.

4. Economic policy. In fact, virtually any Democratic candidate's economic policy is preferable to me to trickle-down economics.

5. Communication. Read any of Obama's books. Both will impress you with the clarity of his thinking, the soundness of his reasoning, and the sincerity of his emotions. I came away from reading Dreams of My Father with the sense that this is a brilliant man who struggled through a difficult childhood and was smart enough to see that a new world awaited. He is smart, rational and emotionally healthy. He thinks and communicates in ways that most of us wish we could on our best days. He's the real deal.

6. An inspiring leader. Hillary fell flat here. Flat. Prostrate. I'm talking steam roller. Who in recent memory has been a more inspiring speaker than Obama? He inspires not only Americans. He is inspiring the world.

So while I believe that this election offers an unparalleled opportunity for America to grow as a nation--to begin to seriously address our racist past--and to look forward to a post-racial future, I'm not naive enough to think we are there already, despite the campaign that Obama has run. I have discussed many times before why I think it is more appropriate for America to elect a black president at this time than a woman president. I have spoken about why I think that McCain is not the man for this time, while Obama is. I have spoken about my party, my prejudices, and my aspirations.

I want Obama to win. I voted today. Please, please, please. Vote.

Together, we can. Oh yes we can.

The Legacy of Nixon?

I was re-reading my earlier post (thank you OCD), and found this:

Even within the Republican Party (can you say Chris Buckley, Colin Powell, Susan Eisenhower) there is a growing list of Obamacans. The reason is precisely because of the racist element within the GOP that represents the last sad gasps of the old South.

And it occurred to me that the Southern Strategy that worked so well in the 60s may be responsible for the failure of the Republican party some 50 years later. Seems plausible.

However, just as I'm saying that, I find this. It reinforces my gut feeling, expressed in other posts, that, given a choice between supporting their racial prejudices or their economic prosperity, people will vote their pocketbooks.

However, by labeling the Southern Strategy a "myth", I think this article misses the larger truth, which is that the GOP gave racist white Americans a safe haven and a continued legitimacy and that has had lasting and negative impact on our national growth.

Who you gonna to take economic advice from? A liberal, elitist Nobel Prize Winner or Joe the plumber?

Paul Krugman, recent winner of a Nobel Prize in economics, wrote an opinion piece today in which he called the Republican party pro-pleurocrat.

Pleurocrat?

*crickets*

No wonder we aren't making any progress with the average Joe. The average Joe can't spell pleurocrat, let along know the definition. Still, despite his use of elitist language, Krugman makes a number of good points. He rightly equates the exodus of lower and middle-class white guys to the Republican party as cattle following a grain truck to the slaughterhouse.

The Republican party built their base by capitalizing on racial and cultural intolerance as well as differences of opinion in the uses of our military. Apparently there is one thing that white guys aren't afraid of and that is being a martyr for their country. No wonder they are pro-one-hundred-years-war in Iraq. Dying is something they are good at. I always assumed that people voted with their pocketbooks. People voted jobs. I found it impossible to believe that people would vote in a manner that hurt themselves, benefited others (especially the "haves"), and would continue to do so generation after generation. But Joe the Plumber is case in point. He claims his differences with Obama were over tax policy. But is it any surprise that he called Obama "Sammy Davis, Jr."? I don't think Joe the Plumber is the same thing as the average Joe. Joe the Plumber is a closet racist. The average Joe is not.

To the Joe the Plumber types, tax policy is a code word for racism. In fact, I am of the general opinon that there are very few low- to middle-class Republicans who are in it for a die-hard belief in the Republican economic policies. Just about anything short of abortion rights seems to smack of racism to me these days. No one is dumb enough to vote against their own self-interests and self-preservation, unless blind hatred is behind it. We have to admit that there is a minority in this country that are white supremacists. They used to be out and loud. now they are closeted and sly. But they are still there. I don't worry about them so much. They no longer hold sway over anyone. Let their asses dry up in Klan country. I'm looking toward the future. They can be part of it, or they can get left behind.

To the average Joe's out there, listen up. Despite everything, McCain has not identified any meaningful way that he will change the course of the economy, but merely continue Bush's "disastrous policies". If Joe the Plumber sets aside his hatred and elects Obama, (thereby becoming an average Joe), he will get a tax break. If Joe the plumber is a racist and votes McCain into office, his individual lot in life might not change, it will probably get worse, but he'll get the satisfaction of knowing that most of the wealth in this country will remain in the hands of the white folks. Bravo, Joe P. Bravo.

Krugman also makes the point about how politicians and journalists, too, are out of touch with the average Joe. The average national income is roughly $44K. John McCain is under the impression that rich people make $5 million dollars a year. Well of course people who make $5 mil a year are rich. Charlie Gibson is under the impression that middle class incomes are $200,000. Is it any wonder that McCain is under the impression that his tax policies will benefit the average Joe? Is it any wonder that Charlie Gibson is under the impression that he is an average Joe? Let's look at the facts:


According to this chart, $150K is rich. Most of us make a third of that, and on average and we spend far beyond our means. But before you point a damning finger at the average Joe, realize that Joe has been spending on the good faith he has rising home equity. And spending on this faith was the only choice he had if he wanted to send his kids to college, and make a better life for himself and his family. Joe had to have faith in the economic indicators that were available to him. And all those indicators said that his home equity was rising and it was safe. He wasn't feeling the pinch. Banks were still willing to loan to him.

But economic indicators do not take into account Republican policies that undermine the entire economic system. Deregulation and smaller government oversight are the drumbeat of the Republican party.

If Joe elects McCain, he'll get the paycheck he deserves. Sometimes poverty is a hard lesson. Trust me. I know.

This is My Country, Land that I Love

I just didn't know it. There have been a lot of articles in the past several days on race in America as the McCain-Palin ticket has turned into a hate-mongering, violence-supporting attack machine. Now we've come to understand Palin meant by her prescient comment that she is a "pit bull with lipstick". She's leading the charge to lynch a presidential candidate.

Think I"m over-exaggerating? Check out this advertisement (above) published on a conservative blog (since pulled, but now be commented on more liberal blogs). h/t Feministing Or this protest sign seen outside a Toledo rally for Obama. h/t FiveThirtyEight.


You know you've gone too far when your supporters--both of them (*cough*Rove and Feingold* cough)--begin to tut-tut you on your campaign tactics.

But I was unaware until I had read many articles on these events that it was bloggers and not the mainstream media (hereafter MSM) that brought the mob-mentality/hate-speech going on at M-P rallies to the public's attention. Why isn't it newsworthy when attendees at a political rally are whipped into a froth and threaten to kill the opponent and injure cameramen? Was the MSM going to bring it up AFTER someone had been maimed or killed?

There are two points I want to make about this. The first is that everyone gets that McCain's disgust over the hate-speech toward Obama is feigned. That is why it continues unabated at his rallies. There are times in life when failure to speak up, speak out, and put your f'in foot down is to give your de facto seal of approval. That's where McCain is now. When the media said that McCain would do anything to win, I didn't realize they actually meant anything. I don't get his tactics. I don't believe there are enough bigots in this country to elect him president. IMO, his campaign made two fatal flaws. First and foremost was his selection of Palin as VP. I know hard-core, lifelong Republicans who are sitting out this election because of her. The second was this "anything goes" approach because he's down in the polls. You could almost hear the moderates scatter as he clicked the shotgun back together and vowed to "take the gloves off". His campaign is done. Kaput. He might as well concede today. His only achievement now is to divide our country in a way that will reverse 35 years of gains made in civil rights, racial equality, and human dignity. For this he should be rightly vilified. I honestly hope that he has the next 20 years to consider the impacts of his behavior, because his behavior is having significant impacts on the nation.

The second point I want to make is about the MSM not reporting on this initially. If it weren't for the ubiquitous nature of bloggers, we might never have heard about the race-baiting going on in a national presidential campaign. You have no idea how that blows my mind when I actually think about it. But, if you consider that the MSM travels with the candidates on planes, trains and buses financed by the campaign, doesn't it stand to reason that a reporter wouldn't want to risk his or her seat on the campaign trail (and access to the candidate) by pointing out something so damaging to the candidate? Our independent media is not living up to their mandate. And they most certainly are not independent.

Finally, I want to say that the hate-speech does more than simply attack Obama. Claiming that Obama is a terrorist because his family background includes Muslims or because it includes Africans or because he's a member of the black community or from Chicago or whatever finger-pointing seeds of doubt McCain attempts to sow--none of this is without broader impacts. Every finger he jabs toward Obama points a damning finger at every single Muslim/black/African-American/Chicagoan/etc in this country. If Muslim=terrorist, then where does the damning end? McCain's tactics threaten to take us back to that sad and scary moment following the 9/11 attacks when roving bands of teenagers attacked anyone who was remotely brown. Remember when Hindus were getting beaten in the streets for wearing turbans? Remember when mosques were being spray-painted with hate messages? Do we really want to go back there? Khaled Hosseini wrote an excellent editorial in the WaPo Sunday pointing out the danger in McCain's behavior. Even GWB, who is a complete idiot, spoke out against violence against Muslims and people of Middle Eastern descent. McCain is screaming "fire" in a crowded movie theater. He must know that his words have impact. Apparently, he doesn't mind being a complete and utter dick.

Oh, and one last thing. I've heard plenty of people "defend" Barack Obama against these accusations of his being a Muslim. They say in an entirely exasperated voice, "but he's a Christian!" IMO, it doesn't matter. Being a Muslim is not some sort of indictment. Muslim is not a dirty word. Extremism might be. And that includes all you intolerant Ohio Christians against baby-murdering Muslims". Own the intolerance, jerk.

Six months ago, I actually said these words out loud: "I want Obama to win, sure, but I could live with any of the three remaining candidates" (Obama, Clinton, and McCain). That man just made me eat my words. I apologize world. I don't support the bigot. He owns those people he's encouraging. He owns that advert. He owns the hate. Own it, asshole.

My Gram is Going to Vote

I've discussed my upbringing in eastern Kentucky before. The river town where I grew up lies at a point where Kentucky, Ohio, and West Virginia meet. What I didn't realize is how important the area is in the elections. I've read that Ohio falls red or blue based on the votes cast in a small number of southeastern and southwestern counties in Ohio. Suddenly, I see the news filled with announcements of candidates traveling to towns with names very familiar to me: Portsmouth, South Point, Ironton. Anyone who lives in a tri-state area understands that the lines between states blur. Points of entry are numerous. Bridges at Huntington, Ashland, Cattletsburg, Russell, and Portsmouth allow easy access across the river and its tributaries. I've been to the movies in Portsmouth; my brother' wedding reception was held in South Point; I've gotten a parking ticket in Ironton. I went to college in Huntington, where my grandparents all lived. In fact, when I was a kid, trips across the river were a regular occurrence because southern Ohio was wet and eastern Kentucky was dry. My father took us over on beer runs regularly. When I got a little older, I made trips across to West Virginia because the legal age was 18 versus 21 in Kentucky and Ohio.

It is amusing to me when this area is referred to as Appalachia. It is the foothills of the Appalachians. It is not the Appalachians proper. It's hill country and I'd be surprised if a single hill in the area gets much above 900 ft. But it is isolated. It may be the 21st century, but some folks are clinging to their 19th century resentment. I've talked about my issues with "my people" before. So I read with interest this article. Read it. I'll wait.

How bad does a ticket or economic prospects have to be to force racists to vote for the smart guy that one? Apparently pretty bad. But the good news is that in the toss up that is racism vs. your own pocketbook, it appears that the pocketbook wins. Which brings me to the point of this post. My grandmother announced to me the other day that she was thinking about voting. She was thinking about voting for Obama. Now, I love my grandmother with all that I am, but this is the same woman who once told me that is was okay to talk to black folks over the back fence, but you wouldn't...you know...actually invite them into your house. She announced to me as a sign of the changing times that "young kids today just all pile in a car together". She has led an exceedingly segregated life. She goes to an all-white Baptist church. I'm trying to think where my grandmother might actually have had to interact with anyone who wasn't white. Maybe at the grocery store. Maybe at hospital when she volunteered. But by and large, she is isolated from any ideas or cultural influences that are different from her own. My grandmother is 90 years old.

And what is driving her to vote for someone she wouldn't invite into her house? Sarah Palin. Now this isn't a matter of sexism trumping racism. If anything, I have done more to move my grandmother's ideas about what is proper for a woman to do. My grandmother calls ME when she needs help around her house. I painted, papered, and rewired her kitchen. She calls ME when she can't get her answering machine, VCR, or television remote to work. I'm her go-to handy-person.

My grandmother, who had announced months ago that she was sitting out this election (she didn't like McCain but had no intention of voting for Obama), is driven to vote for an African American by what she thinks is the incredible incompetence of McCain's vice presidential selection.

My grandmother represents that sort of ingrained racism that I just took for granted growing up. It isn't in your face or even seething below the surface. If it makes any sense, it isn't purposefully mean. It just is. Its the kind of racism that makes all the black kids sit at the same table in the lunchroom at high school. It's the kind of racism that results in all-white parties. You know, the kind where you'd invite your black friend but then he/she would be the only black person there and then they'd be uncomfortable. In reality, you aren't sure who'd be uncomfortable. It's the kind of racism that, when the unwritten mores are broken, isn't likely to get any comments unless someone drinks too much beer and gets mouthy and the last thing you want to have happen is for someone to actually say something. It isn't a racism you can point your finger at...something more you get a feeling about. In some ways, that kind of racism is worse than the sign on the water fountain. It's insidious, it's accepted without being acknowledged. It just is.

The fact of the matter is, I'm glad my grandmother is being faced with this choice. I'm glad America is. If there hadn't been this grand intersection of economic and political issues right before this election, my grandmother might never have had an opportunity to challenge her own thinking about race. She's 90 years old. Her opportunities to change deeply seated beliefs are running out. I am filled with great optimism to know that even at 90, paradigm shifts are possible.

Why Racism and Sexism aren't Equal

Thanks to Samhita at Feministing for this one. Donna Brazile gives a moving discussion of the imapct of Obama's candidacy, her experiences growing up with racism in America, along with a vision of our collective future. I figure Donna Brazile and I are about the same age.

Trust me. I never had to move to the back of the bus. My mother never had to warn me to be careful of anything more than someone offering me candy. I never had to be careful not to look someone in the eye. Had I gotten into Harvard (sorry, had to stop laughing there for a minute), no one would have called me uppity or thought that I got in on a quota system.

Oh, I might have had to deal with my share of "sweeties" and "dears", and I'm sure I lost a job opportunity or two when I was studying architecture due to my gender. I couldn't play little league baseball. My grandfathers didn't really want to take me fishing with them. But I never had to fear for my personal safety at far too early an age because of my gender. Puberty brings on a whole world of new concerns for women at a time when men begin to look on you as a sexual object, but that reality isn't exclusive to white women. We all deal with that equally.

There is no way you can convince me that electing a woman president or vice president is nearly as cutting edge or will have nearly the social impact as electing a black president.

It's funny. I went to school with a kid just like Obama. Biracial. Very popular. Our class president, in fact. Dated one of the prettiest white girls in the school. He went to the naval academy on a scholarship and served for a number of years before getting out. Last I heard of him, he was selling insurance. I wonder sometimes if his experiences outside of our small high school were as accepting of him. I'll never know.

But I know where Donna Brazile stands, and I stand with her.

I think I've lost my hillbilly cred

I grew up in eastern Kentucky. The foothills of the Appalachians. Honestly, if there is a hillbilly, by all rights, I'm it. Oh, I wasn't part of that destitute poverty that politicians like to point to when they don't want to export prophylactics to AIDS-ravaged countries in Africa but I did go to school with kids who didn't have indoor plumbing and by God, that's hill people for ya. I used "ain't" like a badge of honor. My idea of a summer vacation was a week at the grandparents' in West Virginia. My godparent was a McCoy. Of the Hatfields and McCoys. I have the accent that will never, ever, ever, ever go away. I am about as urban as Ellie Mae Clampett. Appalachia has left it's permanent imprint on me. It's like a limp. You learn to live with it. It adds character.

But I didn't realize how far removed I have become ideologically from "my people". Despite spending every waking moment in high school dreaming of getting the heck out, I never thought that I would one day be an outsider in my hometown. But it has happened...I have lost my hillbilly cred.

I know those people though. I know their pride and prejudices and the fallacies they buy into. I know how the high school boys read just enough about the civil war to pick up the "state's rights" argument and convince themselves that those rebel flag licence plates on the front of their Cameros don't really represent institutionalized racism. I know the ones for whom a label of gay accusation of "homo" is an invitation to an ass beating. I know how fathers sweat it when no boys seem to be sniffing around their daughters by the age of 15. I know people who use nigger among family and black people in polite company, but they always put too much emphasis on the word "them". Them people ain't like us. I know when the phrase "You ain't from around here, are ya?" is more than a gentle poke at an outsider and a downright indictment of alternative opinions. Back home, they don't much go for those newfangled ideas of gay marriage or interracial dating and equality of races, and they are more than slightly opposed to abortion and you need'nt make exceptions for rape and incest because those sorts of things just don't happen around here. That world is a small, safe, familiar place. You meet your best friend in first grade. People don't move away, they just die and a new generation moves in. You grew up down the street from the sherrif or maybe your cousin-in-law is a state cop and you have no worries in the world for the rest of your born days.

Well, I moved away and my world got bigger. It got a lot bigger.

In high school, my best friend was Rachael. Rachael will live out her days in our home town. She "admires" me for getting out and doing the things she only dreamed about. When I see her again, it's like not a day has passed that we were apart. I always thought it would be the same with my hometown, but it's not. I'm an interloper and it hasn't been comfortable in years.

I don't like to go home. It's not the poverty and depressed economy. It's the people. It's the racism and sexism and the unbearable stifling intolerance. I don't know when it happened, but I started looking on them as less. Folks in the mall shopping at Christmastime. Less. Folks in the restaurant. Less. I know they wouldn't approve of me and the things I do. The things I like. The choices I make. The only reason I can walk among them invisibly is because I lay low back there. I don't take my business home.

At the same time, I can't just accept the racism and sexism and intolerance and keep my mouth shut. I'd rather not go home at all.

Now when I think of home, I think Chicago. It's that skyline my heart yearns to see. I'm not sure if I'm an orphan from Appalachia, but I know where I feel most comfortable. Sweet home Chicago.

Hillary and Bill can't win this election

Watching the first night of the convention, I was invigorated. I was charmed by Mr. Robinson's home-spun introduction of his sister, and I was drawn into the warmth of Mrs. Obama's speech. And then I sat and watched Charlie Rose. Honestly, I wish I could tell you who the guests were. A lot of pundits I don't know by name.

And I was still feeling up and positive, right up until the moment that one of Rose's guests pointed out that on her latest trip back to her Democratic working-class roots, her people chimed in that they weren't going to vote for a black man. That this talk of "not knowing who Obama is" is just code for "I'm not pulling the lever for a nigger"?

And then my bubble burst.

I knew that race was the elephant in the room that no one was talking about. But what if I have been so incredibly naive as to think this country is ready to transcend race and gender and embrace leadership by a new generation? What if my last post is nothing but bullshit? What if it isn't about liberal vs. conservative, young vs. old, left vs. right? What if it truly is black vs. white?

If that is the case, there is nothing that Hillary supporters can do to sway this election. They will have no impact at all. They are as pie-in-the-sky as I am. Are the Democrats running under the radar to McCain because they don't want to....won't...vote for a black man?

God, I'm just a bit queasy right now.

I'm not just afraid of losing an election. I'm afraid of losing America. I'm afraid that this country will lose it's soul. For the first time in my life, I'm afraid of my countrymen.