One Honor Fits All?

Roberto Clemente undoubtedly deserves recognition. With 3,000+ hits in his 18-year baseball career, two World Series appearances, the 4-time National League champion and MVP is one of the greatest athletes and humanitarians the U.S. has known; Clemente died after his plane, headed to Nicaragua to provide aid to earthquake survivors, crashed off the coast of Puerto Rico.

In Puerto Rico, his birthplace, the Robert Clemente Sports City, a 304-acre sports complex complete with a 12-foot statue in his likeness, stands as a monument to his achievements and legacy. On American soil, the Baseball Hall of Fame honored Clemente with the distinction of being the first player of Latin American descent inducted into the Hall of Fame.

Yet, with all of the accolades bestowed upon Clemente, a proposition to retire his number has raised debate across racial lines. The proposition faces opposition from an unlikely source – the daughter of legendary baseball great, Jackie Robinson. Robinson’s jersey #42 was the first and, to date, the only number retired by Major League Baseball (MLB). Sharon Robinson raises the question of whether achievements and awards given to African-American athletes like her father stand on behalf of Latinos as well:

"To my understanding, the purpose of retiring my father’s number is that what he
did changed all of baseball, not only for African-Americans but also for
Latinos, so I think that purpose has been met," Robinson told the newspaper at a
birthday celebration for her father in Times Square. "When you start retiring
numbers across the board, for all different groups, you’re kind of diluting the
original purpose."

Hispanics Across America President Fernando Mateo has launched a national campaign to get the MLB to retire Clemente’s jersey. At a recent Baseball Hall of Fame news conference, Clemente’s sons justified their father’s receipt of the honor, arguing that although Clemente wasn’t the first Latino player in baseball’s history, he was the first to “become an activist against prejudice, not only in baseball but also in society.”

This issue raises the larger issue of access and equality for Blacks and Latinos. While Robinson’s presence in the major leagues eliminated major barriers for players of color, Latino athletes faced their own set of challenges, inherent to their race. For instance, “the daunting language barrier was one Robinson and his fellow black pioneers never had to confront.” And, Clemente vehemently fought against stereotypes that Latinos were “lazy” and wouldn’t play when they were hurt.

Does this controversy relate to the growing divide between Blacks and Latinos? It is distressing to think that mounting tension between Hispanics and Blacks as they compete for resources and job opportunities has now extended to battles over one race’s accomplishments being representative of another. Rather than debating over whose jersey should be retired and why, the focus should be on coming together under the common umbrella of seeking equality and justice for all racial and ethnic minorities.

My Point Exactly

Read my post from earlier today and then read below. This is EXACTLY what a sista is talking about! We need to get this stuff in check, black folks. It's not just the rap songs that need warning labels. What do White people think after they hear comedians like Mr. Mooney talk this way? I know, I know it's comedy, but the frequent use of racially derogatory terms is disturbing.

In yesterday's Washington Post Express there's an ad for controversial comedian Paul Mooney's upcoming show in DC. Now, maybe I'm clueless, but I hadn't heard of him before today. Anyway, that aside, his comedic style seems to fit right in with what is quickly becoming the theme of the week: race relations. I Googled him and found some interesting comments:

"Paul Mooney is the funniest n*gga in America. He may also be the most controversial. His take on race will leave you laughing your ass off or send you packing...Like Richard Pryor at his peak, Mooney talks straight, but unlike Pryor, whose repertoire ranged from imitating animals to inhabiting the minds of children to discussing male/female relationships, Mooney's a race man. Period." - Nicky Baxter, Comedian Paul Mooney Dissects Race at SF Show

In Baxter's article, he includes an excerpt from Mooney's stand-up routine (I cleaned it up a bit):

"As if I don't have enough to worry about bein' a n*gga, now I gotta worry about being bilingual. You must remember, standard English is a foreign language to black people. And I think we speak it [expletive] pretty well. For you [expletive] to have made it illegal [during slavery] for us to read or write, I think we do it real well. And the stupid a** white folks who don't get it [slavery], [expletive] you. Thank God, you white folks weren't slaves; you never woulda made it. [Mimicing whitespeak] 'Oh, I just can't go on; I'll get a sun burn. Call my lawyer, [expletive]it; we're not picking this sh*t.' Out there singin' 'Tammy'--niggas be 'Let 'em go.'"

On one hand, from what I'm reading about Mooney, he makes points on a lot of topics with regard to race. He just does so in manner that is often offensive and littered with expletives and the "N" word. I'm curious as to what others think about Mooney and other comedians like him (Pryor, Foxx, Murphy, etc.) We should be just as mortified and up in arms when other Blacks using this language as we are when Whites do it. Though his message may be sound, there has to be a better way to convey it.

To this day, I don't think my mother has watched Eddie Murphy's "Raw" because she can't get past all the four-letter words. (But she watched The Kings of Comedy when they came to town! Hmmmm...)

Trading Races

I'm not going to continue the race & "N" word discussion ad nauseum (unless you all want to) but I had to write something brief about yesterday's Oprah Winfrey Show segment. I've borrowed the title of her show for this post. She featured the cast of a reality show that will be premiering on FX channel in March called "Black White." Now, I'm fully aware of just how unrealistic these "reality" shows can be - Producers whispering into the ears of the cast, trying to stir up controversy to improve their ratings; cameras following them around constantly. I question how realistic reality shows really are. (But, if we think back to Being Bobby Brown, as trifling as it was, unfortunately we got a more realism from that family than we bargained for. LOL!)

Nonetheless, the two families on Oprah struck me as being your average, middle-of-the-road Black and White families. Each family donned serious makeup that literally "transformed" them into persons of the other race. While I don't know how well the show will fare in the ratings, Oprah's show was very insightful and brought out some meaningful points. I noticed how the Black family was quite defensive and eager to blast the White family for any comments that could be deemed even remotely prejudicial. But, in some instances where the Black family became irate and shouted obscenities at the White family, it was quite a stretch to make the leap of labeling the words offensive and/or discriminatory. And, it was obvious that the intent of the White familiy was not malicious. I could sense the pain and frustration upon which the Black family based their assertions. They had obviously been the recipients of hateful, mean-spirited racial discrimination in the past and thus they were overly-sensitive to some well meaning gestures from this White family, simply because they were White.

As our conversation has continued and people have given me their insights (thank you to everyone for your contributions), I am now acutely aware of how far the pendulum of race and prejudice swings in both directions. While Whites have been guilty of heinous acts of racial discrimination throughout history and still today, 21st century Blacks are just as guilty of perpetuating stereotypes and condemning an entire race for the sins of few. As Black people demanding respect, freedom, and equality, we do need to take ownership of the fact that using the "N" word internally only perpetuates the stereotypes that White people hold about us. And, we must not allow the wounds of prejudice that have been inflicted upon us to discolor our perceptions of others within our race, or ALL White people. Each person, Black or White, is an individual and, believe it or not, genetically we are 99.9% alike.

If we're ever going to come to a place in society where racism is nonexistent, we must address the FEAR and IGNORANCE that keeps racism alive in our minds and hearts and keeps us in a perpetual stage of mental bondage . In doing so, we don't lose sight of who we are and we don't succumb to a distorted view of a "color-blind" society, because this is unrealistic. Instead, we find balance in knowing, appreciating, and celebrating our heritage, whatever that may be, while judging and discerning others first and foremost by the content of their character, rather than the color of their skin. This goes for inter-racial racism as well as intra-racial racism. Malcolm X spoke to this idea when he said: "I am not a racist. I am against every form of racism and segregation, every form of discrimination. I believe in human beings, and that all human beings should be respected as such, regardless of their color." The key here is the phrase regardless of their color. He acknowledges that we have different skin tones, but the emphasis of his statement is on human first, race second.

One thing we forget is that both Martin Luther King and Malcolm X had the courage to point out discrimination when and where it occurred - they did not turn a blind eye to injustice - but, like God, their top concern was with what is contained in a person's heart. Intent matters.

The Bible says "For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart." (Hebrews 4:12)

The Debate Continues

In my email Inbox, there's a lively discussion brewing about yesterday's post topic, the "N" word and how we feel about it. Here's another brief excerpt (anonymous, of course) from my emails:

The word "Nigger" just has to much of background to it in my eyes. Our parents and their parents really know what it means to hear that word spoken...I don't separate myself from other blacks because I might have been afforded better opportunities. And I don't think anyone can understand why someone else does what they do until you have walked in their shoes...If I were having a conversation with [a white person] and it pertained to why certain black folks behave a certain way, I would ask them do you ask yourself the same question when you are around a bunch of rednecks?? Or mexicans? Bottom line is there are always gonna be cultural differences that separate us, that is just the way of the world, but seperating yourself from them or looking down on them doesn't allow for change or understanding, which to me is truly ignorant...What makes Tom Delay any different than your average drug dealer or hustler you might see on the street corner?? If this drug dealer happened to be black he would be a "nigger". Tom Delay probably lived his entire life with everything handed to him wound up becoming insanely rich and robbed hundreds of people blind behind their backs. But society doesn't have a stigma to attach to that type of person and lets be honest there are rich folks who have been doing this for a long time. Tom Delay also isn't viewed as bringing down a whole race or perpetuating a stereotype because that is just how society is they want to have something negative to say about blacks every chance they get and it is truly sad.

In response to this and other emails I've received on this topic, some of my comments: I don't believe that the majority of black people, regardless of income, education, or socioeconomic status, condone inappropriate behavior, violence, drug use, etc. The majority of what we refer to as "ghetto" or "niggerish" behavior comes from Black people who are products of their environment, and even moreso, products of the structural racism that is built into the very fabric of our nation. One only has to look at the welfare system, designed to keep the poorest and neediest citizens in a perpetual state of lack and want, to find evidence of racism that is built into the very institutions that make up America. If we want to be real about it, White people brought drugs into the ghettoes in an effort to destroy us because they knew that as long as we are denied jobs and pay raises at a greater rate than our White counterparts and remain under the thumb of Big Brother, that we would employ alternative means to sustain ourselves, to achieve the great American dream of big houses, fancy cars and piles of money. The plight of Black people today has everything to do with our history as a people - since slavery we've had to scratch and scrape just to survive. Yeah, our generation is doing a bit better than our parents' generation and so on, but we can't forget where we came from. Because when we do so we give license to false and destructive thinking that we are somehow better or different from our black counterparts.

We have to look at people as people and try to understand that we all have circumstances and obstacles that shape who we are at any given moment. It's difficult - sometimes, I struggle with it - but doable. In my journey to be more like Jesus, I've learned that He took company with lepers, beggars, and prostitutes, people who would have been labeled "niggers" in the Bible days, and viewed them on the same level as kings. It is my hope that we can come to a place where we do the same.

The "N" Word Debate

It's been a while since I posted. Seems like I'm juggling 15 projects simultaneously here at work. Anyway, the buzz lately has been around a white teacher who used the "N" word when addressing a black student. I've received several passionate comments from friends and family after I circulated the email. So, I thought I'd post the link to the video news clip and to a fascinating article about the history of the "N" word, to spark some discussion here.

Watch the news interview with the English teacher...

Read about the history, meaning, and significance of the "N" word...

Read the 2/10/06 piece I wrote for work: "The 'N' Word By Any Other Name"

Personally, I still feel in my heart that the "N" word is a derogatory term. But, I have been enlightened about the fact that black people often use racially derogatory words, disguised as friendly slang, and it often occurs without backlash or repercussions. I pray the "N" word to loses its power and significance, but at the same time I don't agree that the way to accomplish that is for blacks to use the "N" word freely amongst themselves. When we do so, I believe we are perpetrating the stereotypes and negative images of ourselves that the white majority established during the Civil Rights era. If we want to refer to each other with a friendly greeting, why not use the word "brother" - it has multiple meanings, the greatest of which refers to our brotherhood as children of the MOST HIGH GOD.

And, I don't think that the way to overcome the negativity that is historically associated with the term is to simply become a "colorblind society" where we don't discuss the realities of race and its implications, and we don't teach our children about history, including the oppression and bigotry blacks have endured. Last night, I asked my son (who is 13) if he and his friends use the "N" word and he said no. I asked him if he would be upset & offended if someone (black or white) called him the "N" word and he said no. His response told me that he is unaware of the "N" word's history and significance, which is disturbing on many levels.

Here are some excerpts from comments I've received by email. Thank you to these persons (you know who you are) who took the time to respond from your hearts on this topic:

• One of my best friends is white and we all joke with him that he isn't really white but merely light skinned due to the fact that he really feels comfortable being submerged in our culture. However, under no circumstances will [he] use the N (nigga or nigger) word even if he is telling a story about a black person who said the word. He knows the history of the word same as the teacher did...I can honestly say that the fact that [nigger] is such a common term amongst us only opens the door for stuff like this to happen and even allow people of other races to use it as justification...The history of the word really makes me cringe when I think about the fact that I have used this term before, even though it wasn't in a derogatory way.
• I'm guilty of using the word to differentiate myself from other blacks that are socio-economically different from me...They were from bad neighborhoods, were lazy bad students, and spoke with poor grammar...Within the media and even my own family situations, I see these [negative] stereotypes alive and well and I still find myself making that separation...I feel like if they would just stop acting like "niggers" that maybe blacks wouldn't have such a hard time. Why give racist whites a living breathing picture of what they define as a "nigger?...I have adopted white America's definition of a "nigger" to describe blacks that are different from me. Not thinking that if they are going to see me as "nigger" it's not going to matter what I do. I could be President of the United States and in their eyes I'd still be a "nigger"...I do believe "nigger" is a word that's been given too much power. Although I believe that the word and all references need to be changed, I believe more than anything that the behavior and attitudes of those using the word, however they mean it, needs to change (myself included).

I stand accused and am rightfully judged as guilty for using the "N" word in the past. On some levels, I have also disassociated myself with the term. I don't feel like I'm better than anyone else, but I do feel that because I'm educated, speak a certain way, and conduct my life in a particular manner, I'm excluded from the group society has labeled as "niggers." I will definitely be more conscious of it now.

I look forward to reading your comments on the subject. The only way to eliminate the stigma associated with the "N" word is through open, honest dialogue; the possibilities for discussion are limitless...

The "N" Word By Any Other Name

A teacher in Jefferson County, Ky., used some version of the “n” word when instructing a student to sit down in his seat. Although the article in the Courier-Journal paper is disturbing, arguably the WHAS Channel 11 video clip of the teacher defending his use of the word is more of an eyebrow raiser. In the clip, Paul Dawson, an English teacher with more than 20 years experience in Jefferson County Public Schools, defends his use of the word, detailing the differences between using the word with an “-er” or “-ah” ending, in which one is derogatory in meaning and the other a term of endearment. Yet, this thinking is flawed.

Historically, the word “nigger” has been used to refer to black people in a derogatory way. According to the African American Registry, “Nigger is the ultimate expression of white racism and white superiority no matter how it is pronounced. It is linguistic corruption, an attack on civility.” How can a teacher of the English language, whose profession depends upon the proper use of words and language, iterate such a racially offensive term without reservation?

Dawson justified his use of the word because the students use it often when referring to each another. He claims that, in this instance, the student said the “n” word first, and he responded in kind, which is akin to spanking a child to stop them from being violent. He readily admitted this is not the first incidence in which he has used such language when speaking to students in the classroom. Apparently, it is an accepted and conventional practice for Dawson. It is difficult to fathom that during his 20-year tenure in the school system, Dawson never discerned that racially discriminatory language of any type is demeaning.

Dawson would like us to believe that his remarks were not racially abusive and degrading. But, what he fails to understand is that using racial slurs, in any form, is offensive and unacceptable, not to mention unprofessional. And, the slap on the wrist Dawson received for uttering the racial slur, a mere 10-day unpaid suspension and a mandate to attend diversity training, demonstrates that this type of racial injustice is tolerated within the Jefferson County Public School district. Perhaps instead of enacting “zero tolerance” policies that disproportionately punish students of color, schools can aim for “zero tolerance” policies on racial attacks on students.

We can only hope that during his diversity training Dawson learns something most of us learned in grade school: no matter how you pronounce the word “potato,” it’s a potato just the same.

Speaking Truth, Remembering Reality

Yesterday, America laid a civil rights icon to rest. As appropriate for a leader, matriarch, and activist of her stature, four Presidents and numerous celebrity guests eulogized Coretta Scott King’s accomplishments, work, and the virtues by which she lived her life. Thousands of mourners traveled great distances to say farewell to a woman who epitomized courage and grace in the face of opposition.

Sadly, the pristine service is drawing negative attention. Amidst their speeches, several dignitaries injected commentaries on national affairs, topics currently dividing Americans along political, cultural, and personal lines. Former President Jimmy Carter mentioned the inequities apparent in efforts to assist the mostly black Hurricane Katrina survivors; Atlanta Mayor Shirley Franklin denounced the war in Iraq and noted Mrs. King’s staunch opposition to violence; Rev. Joseph Lowery, co-founder of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, recited lyrics from a song heralding the injustices of war.

No remembrance of Mrs. King would have been complete without acknowledging her beliefs and the injustices against which she fought so vehemently. Thankfully, Rev. Lowery, Mayor Franklin, and former President Carter were sensitive and insightful enough to dare discuss race issues, although briefly, at such an important juncture. Posing such comments did not dishonor Mrs. King’s memory; if anything, their words reflected honesty and genuine understanding of Mrs. King.

If Dr. King were alive, undoubtedly he would have fondly remembered times shared with his wife, but surely he would also have been as outspoken and passionate about nonviolence and racial justice on this day as he was on all others. Mrs. King unabashedly devoted her life to advancing her husband’s objectives and preserving his legacy. Rarely, if ever, were her convictions left far from the platform.

Dr. King once said, “a time comes when silence is betrayal.” Ignoring the unfair and unjust policies and actions that are prevalent in America today is a betrayal of silence. He and Mrs. King shared a vision of a society rooted in justice and equality, one that offers a level playing field for all. They were passionate about these issues and on such topics, they refused to keep silent. And, we are grateful for their bravery and candor in the same way we breathe a collective sigh of gratitude for the courage of those who spoke at Mrs. King’s memorial service.

Bullied By Budget Cuts

As if the jabs of a stagnant economy and high fuel prices are not enough to send us staggering, the House passed a 5-year, $40 billion budget-cut package that deals a financial uppercut to the poor, elderly, students, and minorities.

Jonathan Weisman reports that a “presidential signature is all but assured” for legislation that will adversely impact those needing a hand up, not a push down. In a narrow vote, the bill passed the House, with parties divided on the issue. Weisman describes the legislation as “the first effort in nearly a decade to try to slow the growth of entitlement programs.” The bill will disproportionately affect minority populations, particularly blacks and Latinos. In 2005, 9% of blacks and 4.9% of Latinos received 50% or more of their income from welfare programs, compared to one and a half percent of whites (statistical data from Indicators of Welfare Dependence, U.S Dept. of Health & Human Services Annual Report to Congress, 2005).

The cuts will truly test the resiliency of an already struggling group of Americans. The irony of it all is that the government somehow justifies imposing stiff sanctions on the poor, while giving tax cuts to the wealthy. In the past 20 years, the incomes of the poorest 20% of families nationally grew by an average of $2,660, or 19%, while the incomes of the richest fifth of families grew by $45,100, or nearly 59 percent (statistical data from Center on Budget and Policy Priorities and the Economic Policy Institute). It is painfully clear that this plan will increase these disparities between the rich and the poor, the haves and the have-nots, whites and people of color.

It seems the federal government has won this round by TKO. Dazed and tired but not defeated, we continue the fight…

Super Bowl's New Meaning

Super Bowl Sunday. The big game impassioned football fans wait for all season. The culmination of months of grueling work, heavy hitting, and hard-fought struggles to be one of two teams that emerge to the top of the pile. I was among the millions of viewers of Super Bowl 40 yesterday. Though neither of the contenders were my team of choice, I cheered for the underdogs and booed when the Steelers earned the top spot. But, in the recesses of my mind, I was distracted by thoughts of my Dad. He died two years ago - Super Bowl Sunday 2004.

For the first time in my life, the big game was overshadowed by something larger, something that irrevocably changed my life forever. I struggled during the prior week as the anniversary of his sudden death (2/1), brought back memories that I thought were unrecoverable, having been buried so deep in my heart. Some were good - many were difficult to recall. The relationship we shared was no fairy tale. I'd given up long ago on the idea of a Dad who took me out for ice cream, and called me "Princess." My Dad called me "Evil Lynn" cause he said I was so evil when I woke up in the morning. My Dad drank to numb the pain of childhood wounds I'll never know or understand. Sometimes, he would fuss and fight and curse and scream at the top of his lungs sometimes. On good days, he'd be quiet, only muttering a few words in response to questions. But, good, bad, or indifferent he was my father.

I used to get so angry at him that I would think, If he died tomorrow, I won't be sad. I won't cry and it won't bother me at all. It sounds harsh, but the mind of a young girl who had endured years of confusion, chaos, and unrest because of her father's behavior, found Dad to be more than she could bear. But, my inner child has now realized how wrong she was. When Dad died, everything changed. Yes, we were free from the cursing and the rants. But, we also couldn't hear the sound of the television, cranked to full volume, penetrating the silence in the house. The heavy footsteps pounding the floors up and down the hallways, back and forth from the bedroom to the kitchen, were also conspicuously absent. Dad was gone - forever. A hard pill to swallow at any age.

Now, I fondly remember his laughter. I remember the way he poked fun at me. I remember the pride in his eyes when I graduated from college, and then graduate school. Suddenly, the good memories outweighed the bad. Now, I appreciate my father's wisdom and his passion for books and music, because I recognize those passions as his legacy to me, an avid book reader and music lover.

I also remember when Dad blew up at me after he found out I was pregnant, at the age of 17, only months after I started college. At the time, I believed he was the meanest person alive when he demanded that I terminate the pregnancy. Back then, I couldn't hear the pain in his voice. I couldn't understand the loss and disappointment and sense of failure he felt because his only daughter had strayed so far from the path and the dream he had placed in his heart for her. Now, I recall those moments with a greater awareness of who he was. And, while I'm thankful for this enlightened understanding of my father, I wonder why the revelations didn't arrive sooner. Why couldn't I have known then what I know now? If I had, maybe I would have appreciated my Dad just a bit more. Maybe I would have responded differently when he told me he loved me - instead of resenting the fact that he always did so while under the influence, perhaps I would have understood that he could only deliver this sentiment with liquid courage coursing through his veins. Perhaps I would have understood the illness, and appreciated him for who he was.

My Dad fought a valiant fight with the demons that tormented him for most of his adult life. His larger-than-life persona affected me more than I could ever imagine. How poetic that he would leave this world on Super Bowl Sunday - after years of suffering through his own grueling work, heavy hitting, and hard-fought struggles, he finally reached the "biggest game of his life," so to speak. He went down silently, but with fists clenched. Every year at this time I will pause to remember my father for what he was - flawed, but courageous; outspoken and bold; oppressed but not shaken. He was my Super Bowl champion. He was my Dad.

Robert Lee Hill

November 7, 1948 - February 1, 2004