Thinking about Race...a White Lady Perspective.

Here is the thing, as I sit in my house sneezy with allergies and frustrated by small things that are non-consequential, I have the luxury of switching off the media and wallowing in my own itchy self-loathing.  I am able to disengage from the tragedy that is occurring in so much of our culture.  But I know many can't.  I live in a white household with white issues.  I worry about my family in a way that has an inherent belief that they are safe in a world that will protect them.  I can have a debate with my white friend about the term “all lives matter” and it is heady, and again, non-consequential because I know that when we talk about “all lives” I am included in her assertion.  I am safe and that is a fundamental right, right?

The first time I started to think about the idea of race was when my childhood dog seemed to dislike my babysitter who was black.  Her name was Daphne.  I was about 7.  She was great.  The second time I thought about race was when I started doing organ donation advocacy in high school and I realized there were a higher percentage of people who were black that needed organs than people who were white.  The third time I looked at race was when I volunteered at a homeless shelter.  I did this twice a week for four years in college and yet I still didn’t think about race very much.  There was a mother at the shelter (it was a family shelter) who had come "home" from work and still had her Famous Barr (a clothing store) name tag on.  She was professionally dressed.  I asked the person who worked there the name of the volunteer and without a beat she said, “Oh, Miss. Thompson (name changed)? She live here.”  That was the first time I had to think about poverty being something different than society taught me it was.  These examples represent where I was and how unaware I was (even then as a persistent shelter volunteer) of my own privilege and supremacy.  In reality, I was pretty blind until about two years ago...I am 35.

I like to think of myself as a progressive liberal.  I have all the signs and symptoms:  I listen to NPR; I made mixed CD’s of indie folk bands when I was in college; I went to "shows"; I love Obama; I love documentaries; I have a bunch of t-shirt that say things like “Less Hate: More Love,” and “I vote”; I listen to podcasts; I am on social media; I had Myspace; Occasionally I write letters to lawmakers; People could believe I chose my career over babies;  I love Ellen and I am “down” with RBG; I go to peace rallies; I vote; I read Ta-Nehisi Coats;  I am a professor;  I like to eat at farm-to-table restaurants.  I watched one episode of Portlandia  (the one where they are at a restaurant and, they get a bio tour of the chicken they are about to eat and then it cuts to a feminist bookstore) and had to turn it off, because it was too familiar.  I am "that" person who likes to think herself a do-gooder so it is hard for me to say that I am racist.

I say this because over the last two years I have come to believe that pretty much every white American is racist.  If we weren’t we would be doing more.  It is that simple. We would be doing more to save lives.  We should be doing more.  We live in a society that teaches us that "we" are better.  For “us” it is covert knowledge; For non-whites it is undeniably clear.  Up until about two years ago I saw gay rights as much more of a prevalent issue than black rights (sidenote: gay rights are still really important to me) because, quite frankly, it impacted me more.  Thanks to systems in society for making this possible and for my complacency and ignorance.  In general "we" are treated kindly and "we" don’t get questions...it is how "we" assume everyone is treated.

Here are some examples of things I can do: 

• I can speed
• I can go into a store and not be followed (other than just being a woman—which is a whole different story).      
• I can carry a lot of drugs (mine are legal, but no one would know that until they asked and I have never been asked)
• I can walk in my neighborhood (which includes neighborhoods that are subsidized and non-subsidized) and not be afraid
• I can listen to music is my yard
• I can congregate with friends
•  I can walk in the middle of the road 
• I can approach someone for directions (or anything really) without them being afraid
• I can talk to the security guards on my campus with authority (Why is this the 8^th time I have had to ask to get my classroom unlocked this summer!?!)
• I can have a PhD and not have anyone question how I got it
• I can be angry and people don’t attribute it to my race
• I can express any form of non-compliance and trust that I will be ok
• I can be excellent and people don’t say it is in spite of my race
• I can see people that look like me (white) overwhelmingly in all forms of political office, as CEO’s, as bosses, as TV personalities, as movie stars, as cops
• I can get a soda at a convenient store and while paying, not be shot in the face
• I can go to the Growers Market/Farmers Market and see people like me
•  I can get money or ID out of my pocket without eliciting fear
• I can wear hoodies
• I can freely be out in public when another white lady has committed a crime and hasn't been apprehended 
•  I can be fairly certain my cousin, who is silly and amazing; able to hold a respectable job; smokes weed; owns many guns, and probably carries them on a regular basis isn’t going to be killed with his girlfriend and their child (a dog) in the car.  Come to think of it, I am also pretty sure he could be stoned out of his mind at the traffic stop with a broken tail light and still be OK.  He would be stupid, but ok.  I can say this about most people I know.   That is because most of them are white.

This is my normal.  I have a level of comfort that I identify as status quo that those who are black just don’t have.  In each of the above situations people who are black have to worry.  They have to think about EACH of those things and if it is safe and, maybe more importantly, how they can avoid others acting in a way that threatens their body.  My graduate school colleague who is black can’t say this.  We both moved far away from home for work (he on one coast, me on the other), have solid support systems, both have clean records, and we are both in our 30’s.  The police have stopped me three times in my life.  Two of those I was speeding, one was for a burnt out tail light.  I got a warning for that last one.  All three times I felt annoyed and a little scared--but never for my life.  Terrence has been pulled over more than 30 times.  My friend Aida has to worry about her black son every day in a way that my friend Lynn will not have to worry about her white son, ever. Both live in university towns and are fairly well known in the community.  Peace of mind shouldn’t be something Lynn and I have and Aida and Terrence don't; but that is a fact.

 

I will never know the level of paranoia and fear involved in being black.  I will never know that oppression.  Never.  And that is the point.  We (again, us white folks) will never, and can never be in the shoes of those who are non-white, and yet we want to tell them what their experience was or should be.  We even have videos to contradict our interpretation, yet our white "reality" is believed more than their black, video recorded, truth.  

When we actually recognize our supremacy (which means power and that is what we have--it isn’t a “privilege” if everyone should have it) it means we are acknowledge something is wrong with the system we created.  I like my privilege and my supremacy when I don’t have to acknowledge it.  You are lying if you say you don’t.  Ly-ing.  I don’t want to give it up.  But I am willing to do that if it means Aida doesn't have to teach her son how to not get shot at a traffic stop.  We have to start questioning what we know to be "true".  We want to assign white supremacy only to the David Dukes of the world; but that would also be wrong. 

I am asking my white friends and family (or those who are reading this) to do something.    At the least, smile at people who aren't white...say hello. Be aware that you hold your purse tighter when a person of color walks by.  Go the to MLK Breakfast on MLK day, don't just quote him.  Go to local events that are held by black artists.  Stay in a parking lot if police are questioning someone of color so you can make sure they are safe (and better yet, record it because sometimes, apparently, body cameras fall off).  Peacefully protest.  Commit an act of peaceful civil disobedience to bring awareness to the cause of racial inequity.  Show.your.face.  Don’t be afraid that you will be the only white person.  People of color face this isolation every day and they still show up!  Don't just go to things to be around people that look like you.  Say something when someone you know (or don’t know) makes a racist comment.  Look up the term "microagressions".  Question the media when they show a picture of a murder victim that looks like a thug and not like a family man.  Email and call the shows producer and ask about that choice.  Question when you see a "cleaned up" version of a mug shot for a white kid from Stanford who was found guilty of rape.  When someone says, “all lives matter” or #alllivesmatter ask them if they have used that term at any time that didn’t involve the killing of a black person.  Social media trends say they didn’t, so why use it now?  You don’t have to be rude, but you don’t have to be complacent either.   Vote.

The above things will make people uncomfortable.  White discomfort, ours or others, is not a reason to not stand for a more just and humane society.  Don’t let your fear or uncertainty hold you back.  Question the reality you know.  We should not be allowed to hide behind our fear of what society has told us is “the right (ie: comfortable) way”.  Please feel free to share this and please know, if you are black, I am working on doing better.  Sorry it took me so long.   Amanda

You are not allowed to motorboat my boobs or my kidneys

As always-there are curse words.  Read with caution (or unbridled excitement that I dropped a few f' bombs).  I can't remember who I was talking to the other day about how much I dislike the "boobies" campaign.  I saw this link right here today and I thought, "thank you," and decided to share.

Guess what?  I think it is great that you "love boobies."  I am proud of you.  Do you know what or more appropriately, who I loved?  My Aunt Judy (who died when I was 3) from breast cancer.  And do you know what?  I loved her if she had boobs or if she didn't have boobs.  If they made a bracelet that said, "I love Aunt Judy" or "I love Great Aunt Bertha" or "I love Mom" or "I love women who have lost their boobies" or "Fuck bone cancer" I might wear it.  As someone who has struggled with body image issues for a fair amount of my life due to health issues, I felt a lot of pressure and shame about my body as a girl.  Should I mention that lupus impact your hormone levels?   The boobies bracelets are a personal trigger---for many reasons.  I fucking hate cancer.  I mean, I really, really, really hate it.  I am fairly non-violent, but if I could bite the head off of cancer like Ozzy Osborn and a bat and pour rubbing alcohol down it's throat, I would.  I would not however, wear "I love boobies" paraphernalia.  

If an "I love testicles" or "I love lungs" bracelet catches on with as much vigor as the "I love bobbies" campaign did (in both women and men), I will eat my hat.  Think about what the success of this campaign signified.  In the big picture, it ain't about the cancer.  I get the concept you think you are making.  You love boobies, you want to protect them, blah, blah, blah.  The point I am making is that boobies aren't the point.  BOOBIES AREN'T THE POINT!!!!  Here is the link for the video again...in case you skipped over it the first time.  It is right here.

If you wear something that says "I love kidneys" I would be mildly annoyed (especially if my kidneys were on the outside of my body and something that people wanted to motorboat--you have to watch the video to get the reference).  I love them too.  I love them so much I have three of them, but only one of them works, and it is the gifted one I was lucky enough to receive that is holding steady.  Now if you have a shirt that says, 'The person who donated Amanda's kidney and pancreas is my hero."  I would fucking love you.  Do you know what I would love more?  A drivers license that says you are an organ donor.  Put your money where your mouth is, and please don't ever ask to motorboat my kidneys.  EVER.  

Recently I had a friend that donated a kidney to her brother.  She is a bad ass.  She is the only person who I would not be annoyed with for wearing an "I love kidneys" bracelet.  Becky, you could motorboat my kidneys.    

So unless you have donated a set of nice perky boobs to a breast cancer survivor, consider taking off the "I love boobies" bracelets.          

Robin Thicke is a whore...and other things we don't hear in the media

Ok-this won't take long...and remember...there is "strong language" 

Get over it people.  Miley Cyrus is not the first person to do a naked video, especially a naked lady video.

See this for a few other videos

  Based on "outraged" posts about M.C. on others facebook page (because she is such a whore) I decided to watch her new Wrecking Ball video.  I actually think it is fine.  After I watched her video I watched Robin Thicke's video (I had refused as the song is so offensive to me).  Then I realized, maybe she was making a statement at the VMA's related to his video.  She looks a lot like the women he is trying to "domesticate" in his video.  Maybe not, but I think it is possible.  What if this whole thing is one big statement about sex in the media?  I don't think this is the case, but if Joaquin Phoenix can throw people off for so long, Miley Cyrus could too.

I don't  necessarily like how MC is portraying herself.  I think she is being young and doing things she may regret...but do you know what I regret most in my youth, things I DIDN'T DO. 

She needs to make sure she puts a condom on it, doesn't do laced drugs, keeps safe people around (at least one who will tell her when her butt is hanging out, when she has stuff in her teeth, and when she is being an utter ridiculous media fiend), and someone to remind her why it is a horrible idea to have sex with misogynistic a-holes who feel the need to sing about "domesticating" women in their songs (there are COUNTLESS examples I could use...this is just the pertinent one in this discussion).  Let's hope her new song is not about one of those dirt-bags.

We don't like that MC is swinging around on a big ball licking a sledgehammer like it is the best wienerschnitzel on the planet because we want her to be the little girl who has no power.  We want her to be simple.  We want her to be subservient.  We want her to be like every other women in the majority of the music videos, movies, media out there. We want her to be controlled.  

I will be blunt: She is not the problem.  Our society has been teaching most girls in the US that we WANT them to do exactly what MC is doing, then we call her a whore when she follows through.
 
 So here is my promise, next time I am somewhere and someone says, something like"What, you don't like Robin Thicke's song?  I think it is good..." and the conversation continues without a hitch (I had this experience a few months ago.) I won't worry about being liked or fitting in, and I will say exactly what I think the song represents.

Why? Because we can't be quiet.  We can't just let that crap infiltrate our brains and not complain about it, then when MC makes a super hot video where she is swinging around on a ball and chain (seriously, is she smarter than we are all giving her credit for) we cry foul and blame her for "corrupting our daughters."  I am pretty sure our daughters are corrupted every day from a plethora of media sources.  Thank goodness for guardians who can teach children to love themselves in a healthy way and for the teachers who work with those amazing young girls by letting them know they are worth more than their bodies or the words others tell them they are.

Here are a few links if you have no idea what I am referring to in this blog.     

Joaquin Phoenix hoax

Robin Thicke's real video: Blurred Lines

The VMA's with Robin and Miley

And a few to restore your faith in people sanity

(If you only have time to watch one, watch the one below)
Jon Lajoie is awesome 

Nice job ladies

What is it with Sarina Williams' eyebrows?

*Warning--there are curse words in this blog.  If you are offended by that, you may want to stop here.

As I was working on some things for tomorrow the US Open came on my TV.  I looked up from my computer and thought, "What is up with Sarina Williams' eyebrows? Who told her that looked good?"

Immediately I had a rush of, "I would never do that to my face."

Then, I had a rush of, "You, Amanda, are a fucking bitch."

So this blog isn't about Sarina Williams, but about me, and our culture, because I know that 1) I am not the only one who had that thought about Sarina, and 2) I am not the only one to have that thought about myself.

What, as women, are we doing to ourselves?   In reality we talk about others to make ourselves feel better.   Are we just mean girls?  I think it is culturally learned behavior.  We have, in some very strong ways, a mean girl culture.  We learn it every time we are in the checkout line and we see the deluge of tabloids ("Jessica Simpson having a hard time loosing baby weight" or "Beyonce hair catastrophe").   We learn it when we see Kelly Ripa or Kathy Lee Gifford on TV and think, my god.  Is that what it means to be beautiful?  We learn it when there is a segment on every morning show that features beauty products that we need.  We learn it when the "big girls" are always in the funny roles, and not the romantic lead; thus, in essence, making it normal for us to laugh at the fat silly girl.  We learn it when the older, rounder, not as attractive male lead always has a skinny, younger, subordinate or counterpart.  We are taught overtly and covertly what beauty is, and we are taught that we are not that.  So, our natural reaction is to fight back.  But the thing is, we get that wrong and we take it out on others and ourselves.

Do you ever question why the pants for men are almost always in inches and the pants for women are in sizes (6, 10, 12, 16)?  And the sizes...they sure as hell are not the same. So sometimes we fit in  a 7 and sometimes we can only put one thigh in the waist of a 10.  Why the hell can't I fit into this 10 when I can wear a 7?!  Why is my self-worth related to if I can fit into the 7 or the 16?  And why do I judge the girl who is wearing the seven to sustain her self worth, when we both know she would be more comfortable in a 12.   Ehg.  I think I will wear my stretchy waist pants for the 10th day in a row. 

 And do you know what feels better than talking down to yourself?  Being judgy about others.  We learn to be judgy with others and with ourselves.  Watch any of the various options...The Talk, The Veiw, Wendy Williams, Kathy Lee and Hoda, Ricki, Bethany, Anne Coulter, etc., etc., etc.  We learn to be judgy.  We learn to hate the "other" girl: The girl who is different than we are, the girl who is skinnier, happier, has more, has straight teeth, can eat what she wants, has the family, is strong and single, has the man, has the money, and on, and on, and on, and on.  What the heck is she doing with her eyebrows!?

So we do it, we judge.  And, let's be honest, we do it a lot.  I think often to make ourselves feel better.  It often comes in the guise of concern, "have you seen Jenny?" That is some of it, but it is also to say to ourselves, "well, at least I am not as fucked up as she is."   She looses, so then I, by default, must win!

I have a little hope when people who are awesome are not stick thin, when I can somehow relate to them...then...shocking...they get skinny.  IT ALWAYS HAPPENS.  Even with average people.  Do you remember the show "The Swan"? 

Adel, Jennifer Lawrence, and Lena Dunham come to mind as kick ass women who have all melted away the lbs.  While I still love all of these women, I don't have the connection I once did.  They are not "one of us" any longer.  They have become an "other." 

Oh, right...Megan McCarthy.  So there is one person who is not skinny and a famous lady.  She is getting all of the romantic leads...oh wait.  She isn't.  She gets the "fat girl silly leads."  I haven't seen it, but let me guess, Sandra Bullock gets the guy.

Should I mention that women get about 1/4 of the air time in movies that men do (and who are those women, you guessed it, the "pretty" ones)?  I can think of two female movie directors.  One is Sophia Coppola and we all know she doesn't cast non-beautiful people...at least not women.  There  I go, hating on women again.    

We have to do something about this ladies.  We just have to.

Sarina Williams, you are beautiful.

But your personality, well... "At least I have a better personality than you...."
"Amanda, what a judgy bitch..."

Here we go again!  Stop the madness.  Stand up to cultural messages that devalue you (us).  If we don't support it, buy it, or watch it, they won't sell it.  In a world where women in magazines are 98% airbrushed and proof exists that those magazines statistically lower our self esteem, while chickens and women both are getting breasts the size of people heads, we probably don't need any more toxins in our mind, our bodies, or our spirits.  Just for today, i am going to try and love us. 

A reflection of todays events

I know not everyone will agree...thank goodness.  We can't all agree on everything as this creates a status quo and is dangerous for our nation not to mention the hideous ramification of group think.  You can look back on history past and not so past to understand the danger we are under when policy, choice, and the need for us to protect our children is not carried out.  Yet as I listen to the words this Monday morning on Martin Luther King Day, put forth by the president of the United States, I can not help but be humbled.  I can not help but think that, if there is a god, this is the direction he wants us to move.  To understand that, like any good group counselor would say, we can only travel as far and as fast as our weakest member.

As a country, how can we move forward with the vast economic divide between the upper class and the lower class?  How, can we not provide help and comfort for those who are effected by natural disasters and the often hostile takeover of their mind and/or body?  Many times before we have found the means to provide aid and comfort.  We are a united states.  How can we move forward if we keep labeling those with mental health issues as "crazy" and "monsters?"  We can look back on a history of this country when those who were physically ill were looked at as possessed by evil.  Think on this.  Think on the people you love and hold dear.  How can we not find the humanity in our likeness?  Before you speak of the "monsters," seek knowledge about the plight of so many guardians of children who are faced with mental illness and abuse.  Understand that this is not a fight against "monsters" and "crazies" but a fight against a lesser known and often invisible evil.  It is easy to speak to consequences as the cause.  How often do we blame the victim of a greater challenge because we realize that, if we do not, a portion of responsibility is on our plate?  I contend no one wants to be a monster.  No child or adult chooses to be sick or outcasted.   I am saddened by the thought we reject those who are lost be it by their own choice or that of society.  I am saddened that we can not meet them where they are and simply say, "I am here with you."  It seems sometimes there is an exception to "love they brother and sister."  We prioritize, and that is ok, as long as we do not leave those who have lost hope.  

I know people are afraid and that often, that fear is perpetuated.  I sit with my students in that place of fear when we discuss privilege.  I feel comfort (and privilege) that we have the privilege to take part in the dialog.  I feel the tension when comments are made that place privilege in jeopardy.   I feel the tension in my own heart when I think of loosing my place as a privileged white woman.  I also feel the tug of history reminding me that there are many who have fought for me to say "privileged woman." The comfort we find in stereotypes and the ability to place an external locus of control on our actions and the actions we want our government to support is dangerous.  Our ability to state a position based on our beliefs and our faith then not defend our post when times get tough and there is opposition is troubling.  It is also important for us to humbly look at where our beliefs are grounded and assure, from time to time, that it is sound and that we are not stiffening growth and love by traditions and fear.  I am often confused by statements of morality that are supported by a stance of exclusion and rigidity for perfection.  I find hypocrisy in statements that disregard human dignity.

As the president discussed the need for us to come together I am reminded that I am a (as are you) social change agent.  The words of Margret Mead challenge me to understand that a single person can create change.  That I am not perfect, yet many believe that I, like every person on this earth, is created in gods image, period.  There is not a caveat in that statement that says those who are different are not included. We build temples yet we do not protect our most vulnerable human citizens. 

As I grow older and realize that with each encounter my personhood is changed by the interaction that I construct with those around me I am encourage.  I am thankful to have a president who seems to speak to what I believe in, and realizes that both compromise and conviction are important.  A half-step forward is better than a half-step back.  A half-step forward is better than a half-step back.  A half-step forward is better than a half-step back.  I sometimes have to remind myself of this when I get frustrated.   I am reminded that civil rights is a human issue.  It is not afforded to one group, one class, one gender, one ethnicity, one race, one ability level, one political party, one person over the other.  While I am not naive to the hypocrisy that is often politics, today I am reminded of the importance of togetherness. 

Just another Sunday...

This has been a crazy semester.  I fly to New Jersey a week from today for my first in-person job interview.  I am pretty excited about it.  I still have some of those imposter feelings...but I hear that is pretty common.

Several of the jobs I like are in the east and west coast, which creates some dissonance for my lil' midwestern heart.  We will see.  I am 100% confident i will find a job that fits me-so I am not stressing too much.  It would be nice to know where i will be a year from now, but I am not in too much of a hurry as I would like to see how other jobs pan out.

On a different note, Herman Cain....comparing yourself to Clarence Thomas gains you minus points in my book...but then I am guessing I am not the type of constituent you are going after in the first place. 

Face the Nation interview  

Adam Sandler...seriously.  You are not my favorite actor, but any time you take a role where you play both twins means your career is going down hill.  There are a few exceptions to this, like any other mathematical or grammatical rule.  1) Lilly Tomlin and Bette Midler in Big Business and 2) the twins from the Social Network.   

Andy Rooney...died!  What?  I just saw his farewell taping on Sunday Morning (which is one of my favorite shows ever...I like it even more than Big Business).   I know he could be a bit of an a' hole, but i really liked him and am saddened by his death.  But, as he said on his last taping, his life was good.     


Ok...that's all. 

Being yourself

Well hello.  I am reminded again that each life is meaningful...as well as each death; that taking your own path is important for your mental health; and that it is ok to "fail."  While I do not believe in the adage that "everything happens for a reason" I DO believe that there is a path we each take and that path is an amazing journey that is unique, teaching us more than other paths could have--creating us.  It is not always pleasant, fair, or understandable...yet it is still your journey.  It created me and you and those you love and those you less than love.  We each have a story that is unabashedly our own.  I am reminded that my story and my personhood are no more or less important than others...and that my friends, is something to celebrate.