In defense of the sanctimonious women's studies set || First feminist blog on the internet

Goodbye Goodbye

My last day as a guest blogger!  I want to thank the Feministe regulars for sharing your corner of the interwebs with me.  Thank you to the readers who read my posts, and especially thank you to those of you who posted thoughtful responses to them.

Like many guest bloggers before me, I leave you with many thoughts un-posted.  I have a half dozen half finished posts on my hard drive, posts on subjects ranging from Arabic hip hop to Zionism, veganism to 9/11.  Etc.  I’m gonna mash a few thoughts into this goodbye post.

First, I really want to talk a little bit about  Israel’s ongoing occupation of Palestine while I’m here.  I specifically want to talk about being a Jew who does anti-occupation activism and opposes Zionism.

When I say “Zionism” I am referring to a nationalist ideology holding that Jews have a right to a Jewish-majority nation state/”homeland” in historic Palestine.  Although over time there has been much debate about the definition of “Zionism”, I am using the meaning that carries currency currently on the global political stage.  Some Jews have more personal definitions of Zionism that are different; some may have nothing to do with nation states and refer instead to an important religious/spiritual connection to the land; I may not share such sentiments (I feel that Brooklyn and the Lower East side are enough of a homeland for me), but I certainly don’t object to them.  Such definitions are not being referred to when most people across the globe express objections to Zionism.

Along with anti-Zionists in general, I do not question the right of Jews to live in historic Palestine.  Jews have always lived there, often in peace with their neighbors.  There’s no problem there.  The problem is with the belief that Jews have more of a right to be there than anyone else, and that the “right” of a state with an artificially maintained Jewish majority to exist trumps the rights of all the people in the region.   These beliefs are racist, though it’s taboo to say that in most public spheres here in the United States.  Since the ’67 war (when the IDF proved itself to be very useful as military muscle), we’ve had a special relationship with Israel, supplying their military with an unprecedented amount of aid.  The US government also has a long history of supporting Jewish migration to historic Palestine, at least in part as an alternative to a feared massive arrival of Jews on our shores.

The US stands apart from world opinion in our official, unyielding support of Zionism and our active participation in the conflation of anti-Zionism and anti-Jewish politics.  I’m old enough to remember being appalled in 2001 when reps from the US and Israel walked out of the UN World Conference against Racism rather than discuss the relationship between Zionism and racism, slandering participants from every other country as anti-Semites.  Similar dynamics played out when the US pulled out of participating  in this years conference because Israel’s crimes were on the table.   This should raise red flags for those of us committed to fighting racism.  It is US and Israeli exceptionalism.

I view anti-Zionism as a logical piece of a broader anti-imperialist, anti-oppressive politic.  Of course I abhor anti-Semitism, but I am also disgusted at Jews (and fundamentalist Christians, and assorted other pro-Zionist factions) who exploit the historic persecution of Jews for their own political ends.  It in no way diminishes the horror of the Nazi Holocaust to suggest that the expulsion and murder of Palestinians in 1948 does nothing to honor its victims.  It is not anti-Jewish to resist Jewish colonialism.  The refugee crisis and ongoing oppression of those living in the Palestinian territories are not going away soon, and no amount of righteous anger at Hamas will shift the balance of power in the situation.  Those of us in the US-Jewish and not–are directly implicated, as our tax dollars fund the ongoing occupation.

The number of Jews who identify as anti- or non-Zionist is growing.  A 2006 study sponsored by The Andrea and Charles Bronfman philanthropies found that among non-Orthodox Jews under 35, only 54% are comfortable with the idea of a Jewish state. (as opposed to 81% of those 65 and older. ) Last year saw the launch of the International Jewish Anti-Zionist Network as well as an increasing amount of Jewish organizing against the ongoing Israeli occupation of Palestine within a specifically anti-Zionist framework. In 2008, I participated in the nation-wide No Time to Celebrate: Jews Remember the Nakba campaign, which sought to counter celebrations of Israel’s 60th anniversary with events commemorating and spreading awareness of the correlating “Nakba” (or “Catastrophe”) of 1948 which resulted in the death or displacement of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians.   This is a shift-it’s often controversial enough to criticize Israel at all, let alone dispute Zionist ideology.  But this controversy comes not from some kind of Jewish “consensus” on the matter (there never has been any such thing) but from which factions hold institutional power and the lengths they’ll go to silence their opposition.

I also want to plug my new favorite movie, Slingshot Hip Hop, a documentary chronicling the emerging Palestinian hip hop scenes and movement.  It is particularly interesting from a feminist perspective, as the consciousness around the need for women’s voices in Palestinian hip hop displayed by both male and female musicians in the film puts to shame the gender analysis of most music scenes I’ve ever been around. Please, order it and watch it if you haven’t yet.  You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll probably learn things, you’ll be left both angry and inspired.

What else.

It’s a little early, but September 11 is next Friday and I won’t be blogging here then.  This year I hope to get tickets to the big Jay-Z 9/11 benefit concert thing at Madison Square Garden.  That would be nice.  Not that most years I do anything, other than reflect.  It’s still a date on the calendar that provokes a visceral response from me.  On the morning of September 11 2001 I was at work at a phone sex call center in Manhattan.  I was on a call when the first plane hit the tower and yes, caller, you really will always be very special to me.  On 9/11 I thought I was maybe gonna die at various points.  Not to be dramatic, I wasn’t near the towers. There were initially rumors reported on the news that there was a third plane headed towards New York, and I was near other famous NYC stuff that people speculated might be a target.  Obviously the third plane didn’t exist.  No one I knew was hurt or killed.  Some I knew lost friends and family.

It was a really, really fucked up day.

The thing everyone says about the city coming together was true, in my experience.  I was unlike anything I had experienced before or have experienced since.  From the women at my job banding together and helping one another through those early, awful hours to just about everyone I saw after wards.  Strangers talking to strangers, asking each other how we’re doing, offering whatever aid or comforts we could.  I don’t have the words to express the power of experiencing that this is what happened to my city when hit with a crisis of such proportion.  We didn’t know what to do but try to help one another.

And then Bush and Giuliani got on TV and told us we needed to shop and “smoke out” the terrorists.  And suddenly the horror was constant and everywhere.  Attacks on Mosques and random people perceived as being Arab and/or Muslim.  The looming war.  A lot of us started having anti-war strategy meetings, back when opposing the war on Afghanistan was a fringe wingnut thing to do.  Now the majority of the country opposes it.

And yet, we’re still there.  In fact we’re sending 14,000 additional combat troops, on top of the increasing number of contractors from firms like Blackwater (excuse me, I mean the re-branded “Xe Services LLC.”) We’re still in Iraq, too, despite the popularity of Obama’s anti-Iraq war platform.   The horror marches on.  I wish I could see an end.

And on that cheery note…I guess I’m out?  You can follow my pop culture critiques, short videos, vegan recipes and political griping at my blog.  Hope to see you around the internet.

Early Nashville Women’s History

There’s lots to love about living in Nashville, but the thing I love most is that there’s all this rich history all around. On my way home from work, for instance, I can see the window Harry Burn climbed out of at the state capitol after he cast the vote that gave us women the right to vote and his fellow legislators turned on him (or so the story goes).

I drive by a Civil War hospital, a chapel where Civil Rights strategies were developed, and the fields where Frank James farmed when he was hiding here.

Read More…Read More…

Williams Sisters Become NFL Owners

williams sisters2Serena and Venus Williams have been rewriting the tennis history books ever since their breakthrough Gland Slam victory ten years ago at the 1999 US Open.

My favorite tennis playing siblings are currently marching though the 2009 US Open field in the women’s singles and women’s doubles ranks seeking to add to the combined 18 Grand Slam titles they’ve already captured during their careers.

Not being content with just making tennis history, last week they did so on another front. Principal owner and Managing General Partner Stephen Ross announced that the Palm Beach Gardens, FL residents joined Gloria and Emilio Estefan, Marc Anthony and Jennifer Lopez in becoming limited ownership partners in the NFL’s Miami Dolphins.

The purchase of that ownership stake made the Williams Sisters the first African-American women to have an ownership stake in an NFL franchise.

williams-sisters_NFL owners-“I am so excited to be part of such a renowned organization,” says Serena. “Having spent so much of my childhood in the area, being involved with a staple of Miami culture is a huge honor. We look forward to many championships and much success together with the Miami Dolphins.”

Agrees Venus, “I am honored to be a partner in the Miami Dolphins franchise and thankful to owner Stephen Ross for allowing Serena and I to be part of Miami Dolphins history.”

Looks like the sisters will definitely be ready for some football when the NFL season kicks off next week.

What A Difference A Year Makes

ts-isis king6 Back in May 2008 I wrote a TransGriot post entitled ‘Destruction of the Black Transwoman Image.

In that post I pointed out that transwomen have some of the same problems as our cisgender sisters when it comes to Black womanhood. I also lamented in that post the lack of positive trans role models of African descent.

Just three months after I wrote that, things started to change.

During the month of August 2008 we had Isis King become the first open transgender contestant on America’s Next Top Model’s Cycle 11. At the same time Laverne Cox was making her GLAAD media award winning appearance on I Want To Work For Diddy.

During the historic Democratic National Convention later that month we had 2002 IFGE Trinity Award winner Dr. Marisa Richmond make a little history of her own. She become the first African descended transperson to be elected as a delegate to a major party political convention.

The documentary movie Still Black A Portrait of Black Transmen gave my African descended transbrothers some long needed and deserved attention and love. Nick Mwaluko’s story published in the Huffington Post added to the visibility of African descended transpeople.

ts-Mia Nikasimo2Nick’s story, along with Nigeria’s Mia Nikasimo and the stories of brave continental African trans activists such as Uganda’s Victor Juliet Mukasa drove home the point that there are transpeople on the second largest continent on planet Earth.

And oh yeah, there was some African-American trans blogger from Texas who was a finalist in last year’s Weblog Awards for Best LGBT Blog.

The image problems that Black transpeople have had go back to 1953. Ever since Christine Jorgenson stepped off the plane from Denmark, whatever media attention that transpeople have garnered in the last 50 plus years was disproportionately focused on my white transsisters.

Coverage of Black transpeople was relegated to intermittent articles or small blurbs in our iconic EBONY and JET magazines. It took this Justina Williams article in the November 1, 1979 issue of JET before I read an article about a transperson that shared my ethnic heritage.

It drove home the point that being trans wasn’t a ‘white thang’ and that was sorely needed. During the time I was growing up, transpeople went stealth after surgery. That resulted in me not having ‘out and proud’ Black role models to pattern myself after.

Our transitions are different from our white transsisters, and because of those stealth conditions imposed by back in the day helping professionals, I and my sisters were denied the opportunity to learn our history or ask our trans elders for transition advice specific to Black transpeople..

ts-Octavia St Laurent1Paris Is Burning was released in theaters just as I was beginning my transition. I’ve always wanted to meet Octavia St. Laurent and tell her how much of an inspiration she was to me.

Unfortunately, since she recently passed away, I won’t get the opportunity to do so.

What a difference a year makes. Now it seems that we have more Black transwomen and other transpeople of color stepping out there, positively living their lives and proudly talking about it.

I’m looking forward to the day when we have Black transwomen running for public office as Kim Coco Iwamoto successfully did in Hawaii.

And yes, I’m rooting for Vogue Evolution and my sis Leyomi Maldonado to win the grand prize on America’s Best Dance Crew.

I would like to see a Black transwoman character in the movies or on television similar to Ugly Betty’s Alexis Meade.

I want nothing less than for African descended transwomen to not be tragically thought of in context with the Remembering Our Dead List that far too many of us are on.

Like ‘errbody’ else, I’d rather Black transpeople be judged by the quality people we produce, not lies, pseudo-science, centuries old myths and transphobic ignorance.

B. v Mothra

Late last night, I looked up in the corner of my kitchen and there was an enormous moth. Like the size of a small station wagon. I could see little 1970s children looking out a window in that moth’s butt waving to me for help, that’s how big it was.

I know we’ve talked about this before, but Jesus Christ, if you were born between about 1965 and 1980, it’s really a wonder as many of us made it to adulthood as have. It was all, eh, throw the kids back there with the spare tire and I’ll drive them around town while I smoke and let the littlest one sit on my lap and work the stick shift.

I can remember being in the back seat of one of my friends’ mom’s cars and my door wasn’t shut tight (which, in those days, seemed to be a real concern–my cousin once went rolling down an interstate saved only by his pillow when he fell out of a car because the door wasn’t shut tight and my brother lost some beloved GI Joes when they fell out of a car) and she just reached back behind her, right cigaretted hand on the wheel, left hand grabbing for the door handle, and she just opened that thing, slammed it shut, and kept going, never dipping below 40 miles an hour.

And I still have that vision of the passing pavement practically beneath me seared into my brain.

Seriously, the people of my generation need to take my parents generation aside and just grab them by the lapels and shout, “What were you thinking? We could have died!” and also “Was littering a public sport back then or what?”

You can almost imagine that the guy tossing his little styrofoam clam from his Big Mac out the window just as my cousin rolls out of the car ahead of him was all “Damn, there goes my chance for victory!”

Anyway, the moth. It was huge. And I did the sciency crap where you turn off all the lights in the house and turn on the light in the garage to try to lure the moth into being fooled into believing that that’s the sun out there or something. But Mothra was having none of it. Mothra was all, heh, now that we’re alone here in the dark, let me fly right at your face!!!!

Thanks for nothing, science.

I got the broom out of the other room and tried to swat Mothra outside. But of course, Mothra just sat on the end of the broom and was all, “That’s right! Take me for a ride, tiny human!”

And folks, I am embarrassed to admit that it took me a good ten minutes to realize that the solution was to let the moth land on the broom and then take the broom outdoors where the moth promptly flew away.

So, victory for me! Kind of. I mean, ten minutes! But, in my defense, look at how my parents brought me up.

(cross-posted at Tiny Cat Pants)

The White Liberal “Feminism” of Tina Fey and Baby Mama

Last night I decided to watch Baby Mama while doing some not very mentally taxing work online.  Oh, my.  Was that movie worse than I expected or what?  It was so bad, in such an interesting, ugly bouquet of ways, that I feel the need to share my thoughts with you, both about this movie in particular and my ish with Tina Fey’s schtik in general.

The various characters played by Tina Fey on television and films form a more or less cohesive comic persona.  Fey was the head writer on SNL (where she co-chaired the Weekend Update segment) when she successfully pitched 30 Rock, a sitcom on which she plays Liz Lemon, the head writer of a comedic variety show.  The Lemon character is similar to the persona Fey adopted on Weekend Update, as well as to Kate Holbrook, the character she portrays in Baby Mama (which she didn’t write, but seems tailored specifically to her appeal.) In all of these Fey plays a version of a financially privileged woman in a powerful corporate position who is conventionally pretty, smart,  a bit awkward, and romantically challenged.

I’ll start by mentioning my own hesitancy to use one of my dwindling days as a Feministe blogger to criticize Fey.  Her success as a feminist(ish) comic and writer is notable.  She is skilled, talented, and often funny, and I feel kind of gross going at her on the internet—I don’t like the catfight vibe. Somehow, somewhere, I have a deep seated desire to support other women rather than tear them down.   All those years doing Riot Grrrl zines and talking about “Girl Love” really took.  That said, Fey should not be above criticism.  She has become a kind of feminist heroine, especially to middle to upper class nerdy white liberals, and while I share some of her fans’ appreciation, there are aspects of Fey’s comedy that I find constantly chafing.

Let’s start with her whorephobia and slut-shaming.  I can imagine that the kinds of  sexist pressures that Fey has probably faced as a conventionally attractive lady in showbiz include people trying to sex her up more, go the Maxim route, whatever.  I absolutely respect her choices regarding how she does or doesn’t actively present herself sexually.  However, her derogatory attitude towards women that she finds unacceptably slutty needs to be checked.

I watch 30 Rock occasionally, and enjoy it, though the Liz Lemon character’s anxiety around sluttier women makes me a bit uncomfortable.  It’s fine if I view Lemon as just another flawed character with her own set or quirks and neuroses (I certainly buy the anxiety,) but not if Lemon is meant to be the “sane”, neutral audience entry point into the world of the show, as if of course all self-respecting intelligent women wish to police the sexuality of others, wish they’d button up their shirts and put on some pants and view the fact that they sometimes don’t as a sign of stupidity, if not evolutionary failure.

Kate Holbrook in Baby Mama is a similarly wealthy, liberal professional who seems to view women who aren’t exactly like her in these respects as somewhat alien.  The classist “friendship” she develops with Amy Poehler’s character Angie Ostrowiski , a “white trash” woman who is contracted to carry a baby for her, contains this theme to a degree.  There are various comments throughout that further establish Fey as being on the proper side of sluttiness; “My avatar dresses like a whore!” she exclaims in befuddlement while playing a karaoke videogame.  Later, her love interest jokingly asks if she works as a prostitute at night, the humor lies in the outlandishness of such a notion– corporate women never do sex work on the side!

It’s harder to watch Fey’s characters exhibit slutphobia and not take it personally when she makes comments like this :

“I love to play strippers and to imitate them,” says Fey. “I love using that idea for comedy, but the idea of actually going there? I feel like we all need to be better than that. That industry needs to die, by all of us being a little bit better than that.”

what does it mean for Fey as a self-avowed feminist use a group of people (Women, I assume, in her imagination,) for their comedic possibilities while believing that they should cease to exist?  I don’t want to read too much into this quote in terms of the contempt Fey appears to feel towards strippers. Maybe she just sees them as victimized by an evil industry.  Paternalism is so much better than out and out malice, after all. The wording suggests that Fey engages with strippers—or at least the idea of strippers (as well as other inappropriately sexual women)—only as a subject of ridicule.  How is this feminist?

Here are some other things that I hated about Baby Mama:

-There is a recurring joke where Fey discusses the horrific possibility of having an intersexed baby.  Intersexed people themselves are the semi-mystical, thoroughly confusing and gross butt of the joke.  Ha ha ha ha.

-Fey’s character is the VP of a Whole Foods stand-in called Round Earth.  Steve Martin’s portrayal of the company’s capitalist hippie CEO is funny.  Less so is the subplot about Round Earth opening a massive flagship store in an abandoned warehouse that I think was supposed to be in West Philly (I was multitasking, if they clarified the neighborhood, I missed it.) The film reduces tensions between Round Earth and small local businesses and residents who feel invaded to some kind of irrational bias that can and will be overcome if we just listen to Tina Fey, caring corporate VP.  Gentrification is great when it’s companies with Liberal appeal doing it. Baby Mama throws a few softballs at Whole Foods through the Round Earth subplot (health food is gross!  Some yuppies are too obsessed with vitamins!), but at the end of the day the company triumphs as responsible and admirable and Good For The Community. The film creates a space for Liberals to scoff at Wal-Mart as Evil but embrace Whole Foods, in all it’s healthcare opposing union busting as a Good Corporation that’s just a little silly sometimes.

-Racism.  There are few roles for people of color in Baby Mama’s white world.  The biggest is that of Fey’s doorman, Oscar Priyan (played by Romany Malco), who assumes the role of the Magical Negro, receiving no character development but dispensing much sassy advice and support to the two white female protagonists with whom he never, ever has any sexual tension.  Towards the end I though perhaps Amy Poehler’s character would end up coupled with him—during a climactic spat Fey calls her white trash”  to which she replies “I deserve that” and Malco intones “no, you don’t”.  Wow, is Baby Mama actually going to develop the latent class-solidarity theme that cried out from under the cutsey scenes of Poehler and Malco asexually bonding? Given the predictable, formulaic trajectory of the entire movie (I spotted the films final “twist” the second Fey met Greg Kinnear), they should have gotten together—except for the Magical Negro law which forbids him from having any sex life, especially one involving a white lady.  Despite the existence of his own child, who we see in a birthday party montage over the closing credits.  It is actually Malco who gives the film it’s name—Fey explains that Poehler is her surrogate, to which he replies “oh, your baby mama.”  Fey tries to explain no, it’s different, she has no romantic relationship with Poehler, to which Malco replies (paraphrasing) “Relationships have nothing to do with it—she has the baby, you pay the bills.  Ask any black man in Philadelphia.”  HA HA HA shoot me.  That line might be a little less overwhelmingly less offensive if there were, I don’t know, any black female characters in the movie, but no.  The only woman of color I recall at all was a sexxxy Asian woman coupled with Tina Fey’s ex who is on screen soley to cause insult to the injury of Fey’s bruised ego.  I don’t think she got to say anything.

-It was directed semi-incompetently and never reconciled it’s balance between comedy and drama, slapstick and heartwarming, resulting in an agitating and tone-deaf eyeroller.  Strange edits and flat scenes abound.  Scenes go on too long.  It has its funny moments, but doesn’t cohere.  Even as an entertaining  piece of offensive, oppressive propaganda for white ladies’ liberation within liberal corporate capitalism.

Fey didn’t write Baby Mama, but she chose it as her start vehicle into the world of feature films.  It fits nicely into her oeuvre as a “feminist” icon, if feminism is only for rich white straight ladies doin’ it for themselves by climbing the corporate ladder with their exclusively abled bodies. (another recurring joke involved a woman with a speech impediment, btw LOL.)  Of course they have to climb over the bodies of everyone else—except their white male bosses, natch—to do it.  Woooo sisterhood!

Why You Tripping About What I Said?

black woman on computer11I’ve been involved in online discourse for over ten years now.

It never fails that when I or any Black person, be they gay, straight or trans, posts ANY commentary that critiques how whiteness insidiously operates in our communities and beyond, calls out a white person operating in a racist way, or points out that race relations aren’t as ‘post-racial’ as people claim they are the usual predictable stuff happens.

*We’re called ‘angry’,’emotional’ or whatever euphemism du jour is used to personally attack the writer.
*There is a demand for dissertation level evidence or statistics to back up whatever we said in our commentary.
*We have our commentary nitpicked for perceived ‘flaws’.
*Whatever we said in the post is dismissed, belittled or labeled ‘anecdotal’
*We’re accused of being racist.
*Our post is accused of being ‘counterproductive’ to the issue we’re bringing up.

So why are you tripping about what I said? Is it because deep down, you have exhibited the behaviors at one time or another that I’m talking about in the critique and it’s making you uncomfortable?

Or is it because you wish to deny the mountains of evidence that racism is still a problem in our so called post-racial society?

The point is, I have four decades of experience living on this planet. I’ve been exposed to racism and its effects, observed its impact on my people throughout our history, and had long conversations on an almost daily basis with other African descended people from across the Diaspora about it.

Whites don’t have that life experience. So how can you tell me as an African-American or presume to have the authority to tell me what is and ISN’T racist?

Why is anger a legitimate emotion for white people in discourse, but not for Blacks or other people of color?

Why is any critique by a white writer on an issue not greeted with the same shifting goalposts of ‘proof’ that you require of us?

Why is it that whites can freely criticize my community, but Blacks aren’t allowed to do the same without a hostile or angry reaction to it?

Why is it that when white people who make controversial statements that are later proven blatantly false ignore demands from the Black community to apologize for them, but ANY controversial statements that are penned by a Black or POC writer are immediately followed with demands to apologize for them by the White community irregardless of whether they are true or turn out to be false?

Explain that to me.

287(g): Can White Privilege Ever Be Exercised for Good?

(In this post, I’m going to be talking about how the 287(g) program plays out here in Nashville, Tennessee, because that’s what I’m most familiar with. This stuff may be applicable in other communities–I suspect it is–but I’m not going to presume to know.)

Like many Southern cities, Nashville’s predominate racial make-up was white and black.  Over the past fifteen years, the Hispanic population has grown immensely (an 800% increase) and there are now roughly 50,000 Hispanics in Nashville, which is about 10% of the population.

The 287(g) program, if you have not heard of it, gives some powers of immigration enforcement to the Sheriff’s office.  So, if you are arrested in Nashville and they have reason to suspect that you might be an illegal immigrant, you are run through a Federal database and held for ICE and then deported.

When this program was presented to cities, it was sold as a way to make it easier to hold and deport dangerous criminals.  It has become, as you might imagine, a way to terrorize ten percent of our neighbors.  Our Sheriff even brags about having removed 5,000 illegal immigrants from our community in the two years we’ve had the 287(g) program, as if it’s perfectly fine and cause for pride that one man has the power to disappear one percent of a city’s population (or ten percent of any particular ethnicity).

But let’s step back a second. Because I think the old-school racism of 287(g) is so blatant that most people look past it.

I mean, if I told you that Nashville had a program to lower the number of brown people in our city, if I phrased it that way, you’d either think that I was making stuff up or that I lived in a place that had yet to hear of the 1960s.

But ICE doesn’t force cities to participate. Cities who have a need for it ask to participate and then have to get approval.  Well, what exactly is this “need”?  You can’t tell if a person is here illegally by looking at him. So, how, exactly, did Nashville decided that the number of illegal immigrants here was a problem that needed a solution in which we called in the Feds?

I hope you don’t feel like I’m insulting your intelligence by spelling this out, but we only needed 287(g) after the demographics of our city had changed so radically.  In other words, the presence of all these brown people, speaking Spanish, was/is a “problem.”

That’s racist, obviously.  But it goes further than that.  This is a “problem” the community will know is solved if the community perceives there to be fewer brown people.  Remember, you can’t tell if someone is here illegally by looking at him.  So, how are you going to judge, as resident of our city, if 287(g) works?  It has to seem that there are fewer brown people here.

It could not get any more old school racist than that–we perceive that the problem is that there are too many brown people, we come up with a program that allows us to justify to ourselves and to the rest of the country why we need to reduce the number of brown people in our community (in this case that many of them are here illegally and we just love America so much that we have to protect it from those illegal immigrants who want to come here and ruin things by getting jobs and giving their kids a good education), and then we start rounding up brown people and shipping them elsewhere.

Not all of us can admit this out-loud, even to ourselves, of course, because we want to believe that we are good people and not terrible racists who increase suffering in order to preserve our own comfort.  See our beloved Sheriff Hall, whose baby our 287(g) program is. He spoke to the local chapter of the CCC, and his claim was that it never occurred to him that they might be racist (apparently we’re supposed to believe that no one in his office can use Google, or something).

It never occurred to him that the groups of white people who might be most enthusiastic about his program were racists?! It still boggles my mind and that happened last year.

But here’s my question, folks, which goes back to the title of the post. Can white privilege ever be exercised for good?  Here we have a racist program, which is causing terrible havoc in our Hispanic community. People don’t want to call the police when crimes are committed because, if, say, they see their neighbor’s house getting broken into, they don’t want the cops to come and cart of their neighbor. Homes are disrupted, families torn apart. You can’t hear from the people in the community without feeling like, “Holy cow, this is terrible.”

Now, there are a lot of really good local organizations like TIRCC and, of course, the ACLU, and on and on who are working to mitigate the suffering caused by 287(g).

But the truth is that it’s a racist program.

Doesn’t that oblige the folks with the least to lose–white native-born citizens–to speak up the loudest?

You see what I’m saying?  In a situation like this, the concerns of white, native-born citizens are privileged (shoot, do you think we’d even have this program if a bunch of white folks hadn’t been all “Oh my god, when I drive down Nolensville Road now, all the signs are in Spanish! Something must be done!”) and the voices of the people most affected by this are marginalized and criminalized.

I can speak out against 287(g) without fear because of my extreme privileged in this situation. And I think it’s because of my extreme privilege in this situation that what I say is heard, even if I get dismissed as being a liberal or a Yankee or whatever.

I feel a moral imperative to speak out, because my privilege gives me a way of being heard when my neighbor is not or cannot speak out.

But it reinforces this idea that the brown people in Nashville are not really participants, but just a “problem” for the white people to work out.

I don’t know.  It’s pernicious, how racism works, how it forces you to be complicit in it, even in order to work against it.

(Look at the shape of this post, even, how there’s only so long I can look outward before I have to turn the subject back to me.

I’m embarrassed upon re-reading it that it’s so obvious, but I’m going to let it stand anyway, because that’s a side effect of white privilege and living in a racist society: it fucks you up. No use in getting defensive and pretending that it doesn’t. Or rewriting in order to mask it.)

“Obesity,” health, and the pro-food movement

In my first post this week, I talked about how I became interested in the consequences of our industrialized food system, both macro and micro, and what I’ve done in my own life. Now I want to talk about what’s coming to be called the pro-food movement, and one thing about it that has been driving me a little batshit crazy of late. (NB: I am not saying that the topic of this post this is the only flaw in the pro-food concept and prevalent analysis; it’s just the one this post is about.)

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