Progress Slow, then Sudden

After generations of discrimination, society has become far more accepting of homosexuality. This rapid transformation offers hope for other progressive changes in attitude.



Disclaimer: the post below discusses offensive language which I do not endorse.

A buddy recently mentioned his young son had just seen the animated film Despicable Me 3, which included a scene featuring '80s rock staple "Money for Nothing" by Dire Straits. Accordingly, he later played the song for his kid, and was shocked to discover the lyrics prominently featured the word "faggot". I was similarly surprised, having never noticed that in a song I've considered an innocuous bit of "dad rock" used in movies and car commercials aplenty.

In the song's lyrics the epithet is used to insult the protagonist -- a disparagement of the lead singer and his supposedly cushy lifestyle. It is not an affirmation of the flagrant homophobia of, say, early '90s NWA or early '00s Eminem (or the Beastie Boys' 1986 debut album, originally titled Don't Be a Faggot). But its casual appearance arguably makes it more jarring -- no popular artist today goes anywhere near such language.

"I used to use that word so freely in middle school," my friend noted. "I had a hard time typing it just now." It's a sign of how far treatment of the LGBT community and consciousness about the impact of language have come in such a short time.

A More Perfect Union

The Charlottesville white supremacist march was a horrifying escalation of recent racial tensions. Confronting overt racism is necessary, but far more challenging is dismantling entrenched policies propping up racial inequities.

"in Order to form a more perfect Union..."

The first step is admitting that ours is an imperfect country, with flawed institutions, including our military, law enforcement, government, media, and more. Without acknowledging that, there is no way to move forward to account for the sins of the past and the continuing inequities of the present. But without believing, as I do, that all of these institutions are redeemable – and that with mindful striving, they can be continuously improved in pursuit of an unattainable perfection – there is no reason to try.

This is a critical point to convey to those who would retort "America, love it or leave it!" That, despite a history that includes the displacement of indigenous people, the chattel slavery of blacks, legalized segregation, and the internment of Japanese-Americans, America's professed ideals of freedom, equality, and opportunity are worth fighting for. Progress can feel slow, but over two centuries this country has vastly expanded whom it covers under the protective cloak of its ideals.

Bring the Noise

After another questionable law enforcement incident, the national dialogue has disappointingly centered on sensationalized riots instead of on how to address the root causes of poor relations between minorities and the police.



Baltimore, after the still-unexplained death of Freddie Gray, is the latest national flashpoint in the recent spate of high-profile incidents of police mistreatment of minorities. As a Maryland native who still has many friends who live, work, or study in the city, seeing a state of emergency declared and the National Guard called in to deal with riots has been particularly disheartening.

More disheartening has been the rush to simplistic moralizing pronouncements ("hot takes," in the current parlance) that focus on the easy-to-condemn rioters. As with opinions on Ferguson last year, the bulk of the dialogue on Freddie Gray addresses the small faction of criminals that looted a handful of stores. But the folks snarking about Baltimore rioters for their counter-productive behavior miss the point entirely. No one serious is advocating that burning down a corner store is constructive. Yet, perversely, it's once again taken destruction of property -- and not the loss of actual human (black) lives -- to get Americans to pay attention to the plight of struggling minority communities.

You Cannot Lose If You Do Not Play

American society has vastly differing sensitivities to treatment of different groups. But in trying to protect people's feelings by further sanitizing language, we only give bigots ammunition. A better solution is to see slurs as ridiculous, not taboo.

#CancelColbert was the Twitter protest movement that spiked last week in response to an allegedly racially insensitive tweet made by the official account of The Colbert Report. That tweet was a relay of a joke Stephen Colbert made on his show, skewering Washington Redskins owner Daniel Snyder for trying to counter criticism of the "Redskins" name--which many consider a slur--through his new Washington Redskins Original Americans Foundation. Colbert demonstrated the absurdity of using offensive language in the group's very name by comparing it to an Asian-focused group called "The Ching-Chong Ding-Dong Foundation for Sensitivity to Orientals or Whatever".

So when the anti-Colbert backlash arose, I paid it little attention, figuring this was another unfortunately-common-on-the-Internet incident of undue outrage being whipped up due to context unconsidered, or worse, willfully ignored in order to advance an agenda. Surely, anyone familiar with Colbert's work would not consider him a racist, and seeing the clip would no more lead a person to conclude he wished to denigrate Asians than reading "A Modest Proposal" might convince a person Jonathan Swift advocated cannibalism to keep the numbers of poor Irish in check. Further, I feared such unwarranted outrage would give ammunition to true bigots who often hide behind claims against an overzealous "P.C. (politically correct) police". A comment on one blog cheekily captured my fear: "This is why liberals can't have nice things."

Cultural Back-Patting

The authors of a controversial new treatise on the superiority of certain cultures promote a dubious narrative about "model minorities." They wrongly give credence to blaming cultural values as the reason other groups are not succeeding.

In a buzzed-about New York Times column, Amy Chua (who first came to widespread fame -- or infamy -- with her "Tiger Mom" manifesto in 2011) and her husband Jed Rubenfeld opine on "What Drives Success." The authors promote eight cultures in America (an ethnic, religious, and racial grab bag of immigrant Chinese, Indians, Persians, Lebanese, Nigerians, Cubans, as well as Jews and Mormons) as being superior. These groups are better, say Chua and Rubenfeld, because they possess the "Triple Package" of having a "superiority complex," feelings of "inferiority," and have mastered "impulse control."

An elevated arch of the eyebrows in response to this "theory" is justified. The Triple Package is the latest example of pop sociology which can drive lively conversation at cocktail parties or dinner tables, but eschew rigorous documentation and verifiable fact in favor of sweeping generalizations and dubious conclusions drawn from personal anecdotes. It may be that these ideas are better fleshed out in the authors' upcoming book on this topic (several critical reviews I have read indicate they are not), but thus far what is presented has gaping holes or is often contradictory. Some examples that particularly galled me from the piece:

Black or White

Conversation about race in America remains hampered by a historically rigid perspective and the confusion of even well-intentioned people over how to acknowledge race.

It's taken for granted the description of Barack Obama as our country's first black president. Something about this designation has always troubled me. I wonder whether the president's white mother, and his white grandparents who helped raise him, would have considered the label a slight to their roles in his life. Sure, much of the reasoning behind celebrating the "first black president" label is a country looking to redeem itself for its history of injustice against blacks. But the underlying mindset of "if you're not fully white, you're black" is the same that fueled the Jim Crow-era "one-drop rule", whereby any Americans who had any trace of non-white ancestry were deemed "colored" and were legally discriminated against.

This is just one example where our country can even innocuously display an awkward handling of race. Take the term "African-American" itself, often used as a well-intentioned substitute for "black", regardless of whether the American being described is generations removed from Africa and despite the fact that non-recent-immigrant white Americans are never classified as "German-American" or "British-American". (Lindsey Lohan's Mean Girls character, on the other hand, is actually African-American.)

Context Matters

Recently, there's been a minor kerfuffle reported in the news over the use of the word "retard" by prominent newsmakers like Rahm Emanuel, Sarah Palin, and Rush Limbaugh.  The ensuing controversy has led to a publicized backlash against the so-called "R-word".  Amidst the hubbub though, this weekend in the Washington Post came a refreshingly level-headed column by Ohio State law professor Christopher Fairman, about the controversy.  While his explanation of the evolution of "retard" from politically correct to incorrect is interesting, it's his examination of word taboos in general that I find most interesting.

Fairman points out what is obvious to most of us: that phrases like "that's so retarded" or "that's so gay" are typically not meant as insults to the mentally disabled or to homosexuals, respectively, but are meant as generic put-down words.  I don't condone incivility or homophobia, and I don't think Fairman is granting a free pass to the users of those words--rather, just pointing out that the use of those words has a casual, inoffensive context (what he terms "readily identifiable alternative meanings"), and is not indicative of the user's personal insensitivity or bigotry.

We can all agree that reducing the frequency of saying phrases like the examples cited would be a good thing, making our discourse more polite.  However, usage of the phrase is not by itself indicative of malicious intent.  Given that we live in a culture that is all too often too quick to look for and take insult, it would be helpful to remember that words themselves are not the problem, but the meaning behind them

Context matters.  That's what I thought a few weeks ago when I heard about NBC apologizing for its cafeteria menu offering fried chicken and collard greens on its Black History Month menu.  Although I initially raised my eyebrows, I then asked myself, is this actually racist?  Was there a malicious intent?  Are those foods not historically associated with blacks in America, at least in the South?  Would there have been similar complaints if Salvadoran History Month featured pupusa specials, or Indian History Month featured dosas?  How exactly--if at all--do you want to teach a history lesson through a cafeteria meal?  It turns out the NBC menu was personally created by the cafeteria chef, a black woman, who had specifically requested to have that offering for one day.  Clearly there was no ill-will or patronizing stance coming from her.

All too often people forget about intent before crying "racism!" or whatever other grounds for offense they are taking.  Again, to be clear, if ill will was actually meant and a person is purely spewing noxious hate, I am against that, and that kind of speech or action should be challenged.  Regardless, I think it would be definitely helpful for people in general to not get offended so easily--toughen up mentally!  Ultimately, words or ideas only have what power you accord them, and if you don't let the mere sight of one affect your psyche, then you immediately defuse its destructive potential.  Put in simpler terms: shrug it off.  Crisis averted.

In Jena, Everyone Loses

The 1960s civil rights movement was a decade that produced many heroes. Among them are Martin Luther King, Jr., Medger Evers, and John Lewis, the latter of whom led the marchers at Selma against brutal policemen with tear gas and attack dogs. I had the privilege of meeting Rep. Lewis at a lunch at the Capitol a few years ago, and hearing him tell his story at the table gave me goosebumps.

On the flip side, I've been deflated by recent coverage (as judged by the plethora of newspaper articles and Facebook petitions) of the "Jena 6", a group of black teenagers facing serious charges in the aftermath of racial tension and violence in their small Louisiana town. Unfortunately, without even delving into the details of this cause célèbre, it's hard to overlook the fact that there is nothing heroic or noble about a group of teenagers beating someone up.

As we've learned (or as the Wikipedia entry documents), this town sadly has a deplorable state of racial affairs between blacks and whites. I am disappointed to see that in the year 2007 there are still places in this country where bitter, overt, and irrational hatred exists. And I obviously feel bad that the Jena 6 may have had poor legal representation, and that they may have to face unimaginably long prison sentences that will all but ruin their lives.

Yet the fact that these six Louisiana teenagers are the face of today's civil rights crusade reveals a troubling detail. It used to be that we marched for messages of equality and non-violence. The kids that everyone is marching for today engaged in violent criminal behavior that was both a symptom, as well as a continuing cause, of racism. These kids, and other blacks and whites in the city, engaged in a relentless cycle of destructive behavior.

When the current trials are over, and all is said and done, will anything have changed in Jena, L.A.? Life for both whites and blacks will likely be worse than before, if that is even possible. This wasn't Dr. King's "Dream", this is a nightmare.

Put the "Nappy" Controversy to Rest

One of the major headlines of the past week is the controversy surrounding a remark by radio host Don Imus, who described the African-American women of Rutgers' basketball team as "nappy-headed hos." Initially, Imus brushed off criticism of his remark by calling it just an "idiot comment" he made. The furor has grown though, with Al Sharpton and others calling for his firing, and Imus has been suspended for two weeks. He is now in full-blown apology mode--the familiar I'm-not-a-racist, I didn't mean to be offensive routine.

I don't have any personal feelings regarding Imus; I've rarely listened to his show, and I doubt we would agree on very much. (Though he doesn't seem like a bad person, and much less reprehensible than, say, Rush Limbaugh.) But I am annoyed by the huge flareup over this comment. That isn't because I agree with his distasteful remark, but because I think his critics are misguided.

Yes, Imus made an off-color comment to a group that didn't deserve it--the Lady Scarlet Knights, who had a remarkable run to the NCAA finals after overcoming several early season losses. But I don't see how his comment is that big a deal. Those great women basketball players shouldn't care what he has to say about them. They just made it to the NCAA Finals. Should it matter at all to them what some cranky old radio host whom they've never heard of makes fun of them? Not at all.

What Imus thinks of the Rutgers team is completely irrelevant and in no way diminishes their accomplishment. His words should have no effect on them. And they wouldn't, were it not for this whole conflagration which is giving such power to Imus's comments. The Lady Knights had never heard of and didn't care about Don Imus a week ago--now it seems like everyone is expecting them to be the anguished, suffering victims of his words. Imus shouldn't have that power, and those players shouldn't be told to be victims--they're so much better than that!

Meanwhile, let Imus continue to make edgy comments and lame jokes. Unless he or anyone else is saying stuff that actually causes harm to their target, we should be very careful in declaring anything too "sensitive" for discussion or humor. While the intent may be to protect people, we instead wind up making a big deal out of things that aren't so.

UPDATE 4/14
I'm terribly disappointed that Imus has been fired from his radio show. I'm disappointed because of how much people read into and extrapolate from what was just a bad joke. That joke was conflated to be an example of the depth of Imus's shocking racist views, something I don't believe. Anyone with any familiarity with comedy, especially the commonplace edgy comedy of our times, knows that joke ≠ personal belief.

But nonetheless, since Imus's joke was viewed as his actual belief, I'm more disappointed at what this episode demonstrates about our tolerance for letting people air their opinions. Free speech isn't just an esoteric concept you can defend only at cherry-picked times or from cherry-picked voices. Let people make up their own minds and ignore/counter disagreeable or detestable speech on its own merits. That is much preferable to using censorship and making a sacred cow of some topic.

Pat Buchanan, of all people, had an interesting column on this subject where he raised a couple of salient points about the hypocrisy involved in this situation:

While the remarks of Imus and Bernie about the Rutgers women were indefensible, they were more unthinking and stupid than vicious and malicious. But malice is the right word to describe the howls for their show to be canceled and them to be driven from the airwaves – by phonies who endlessly prattle about the First Amendment.

...

If the word "hos" is a filthy insult to decent black women, and it is, why are hip-hop artists and rap singers who use it incessantly not pariahs in the black community? Why would black politicians hobnob with them? Why are there no boycotts of the advertisers of the radio stations that play their degrading music?

I think even people who generally agree that this incident has been blown out of proportion are reluctant to defend Don Imus because of his forked tongue and checkered history of verbal offenses. But that's precisely the problem.

Pretty or not, we have to refrain from taking the easy solution (in this case mass condemnation, censorship). Confront the problem in a constructive manner (rational refutation of his remarks, and then moving on)--that's what's in the best interest of all parties involved.

Final words
A former head of Martin Luther King's SCLC asks us to "Drop the Race Card."

Race and Prejudice

In conversation this week with a fellow student at UMCP, I brought up the subject of the government's commendable decision to distribute $2,000 debit cards to Hurricane Katrina victims so that they can purchase food, shelter, and other essentials. To my surprise, he expressed skepticism that the policy would do any good. Why not, I asked? This student, whom I otherwise respect and well like, said to me (ensuing quotes recalled to the best of my memory) "Come on, you don't really expect these people to spend the money on food, do you? They'll just use it to buy booze!"

Give me a break, I laughed. If I'd been through all that they've been through this past week, I'd need a stiff drink too! My partner insisted, however, that he was not joking. "Think about it," he said to me, "They're black and they're poor. They're from the New Orleans ghetto. How do you think they got there in the first place? They're hooked on booze." Shocked, I realized he wasn't joking at all and my good humor deserted me. I vehemently refuted his offensive and ridiculous statement, and so ended the conversation.

Now you can say, yes, it's not a big deal. The fellow in question is definitely a nice and decent guy, and his views are definitely held by a minority of people on this campus and in this country. But that doesn't make it OK. It wasn't acceptable for former first lady Barbara Bush to say, as she did this past week, that owing to the fact that many Katrina victims were poor, the storm is "working very well for them."

All my life, I can remember being surrounded in a multi-cultural environment, even as my family moved up the rungs of the economic ladder. I'd always thought of racism as a relic discarded in the '60s, in much the same way I used to think sex discrimination was behind us after the '70s. We had the Civil Rights Era, I thought, and now we live in the Enlightened Era where surely no one in America holds on to those antiquated and poisonous notions of race. (Or religious discrimination either, but a post-9/11 world has shattered that belief as well.) Since coming to college last year, I've encountered, almost for the first time, people who have not had the benefit of exposure to many different kinds of people, and whose prejudices reveal it.

My high school, Montgomery Blair HS of Silver Spring, MD, was an amalgamation of 3,000+ white, black, Hispanic, and Asian students: seemingly every group was well-represented--white suburbia; English as a Second Language (ESL) immigrants; middle-class Asian children of immigrants; the majority African-American population of the area; gay, straight, or ambiguous; jocks, theater players, and dorks; rich, poor, or in between. We may not have all had the same circle of friends or known each other intimately, but we were all at least aware of the conditions each of us existed in, and we were brought together by the awareness of the common experience we were sharing.

I don't think it must have ever occurred to the guy I mentioned above that poverty is not indicative of slothliness and alcoholism. Some people--in fact, a lot of people that we don't give much thought to--work hard all their lives just to secure that bare minimum to get by on. It's easy to forget that while we're coasting on to our assumed future success while attending a high-priced university, we're the fortunate ones. Would that we were all so lucky!

Somehow, I understood just what Richard Cohen meant when he lamented that Chief Justice nominee John Roberts was "too perfect to know the people." He wasn't suggesting that Roberts should have lower educational qualifications or that Roberts was bigoted or anything like that. Cohen was referring to the obvious disparity between the lives of our elected officials and those of the majority of people they represent. There are in fact "Two Americas", as John Edwards would say. If we've learned anything from Katrina, it's that we musn't let the former get out-of-touch with the needs and concerns of the latter. The type of unfamiliarity I've seen displayed lately isn't just unseemly; it can be costly.