Showing posts with label The Tea Party. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Tea Party. Show all posts

Friday, October 26, 2012

The War On Women 2012: How the Vicious Sexism, Misogyny, and Patriarchial Demogoguery of the Right in the United States is Destroying the Country


All,

Question:  What is the actual structural, institutional, cultural, and ideological role of sexism, misogyny, and patriarchy (male supremacy) in politics, economics, and culture in the United Hates?

Answer:  It is exactly what it is with respect to all forms of racism, sexism, and homophobia--a very powerful systemic instrument for the comprehensive domination, control, oppression, and exploitation of women, people of color, and the LGBT community. 

Which is precisely WHY Romney and Ryan as well as many other vicious rightwing sexist and misogynist demagogues running for Congress in the Senate MUST be defeated in the 2012 national elections...

Kofi 


The War on Women and Its Consequences
by Hatty Lee
October 11 2012
Colorlines

After two years of relentless attacks on the infrastructure of family planning, poor and uninsured women are starting to see the impact in some states. In an article accompanying this infographic, Akiba Solomon reports from Texas, where women of color in both rural and urban areas have suddenly found themselves with starkly limited choices for reproductive health.



WAR ON WOMEN
OCTOBER 25, 2012

Voter ID Laws Are Actually a Sneaky Way to Silence Women of Color

by Erin Gloria Ryan

Any connoisseur of 80's and 90's era kids' sports comedies knows that when the bad guys can't win, they cheat. Cobra Kai tried it, the Urbania Cowboys tried it, and everyone The Mighty Ducks ever played tried it. Now that an increasingly nonwhite population trend has threatened the electoral clout of white people, terrified conservatives have responded to the realization that democracy is not on their side by trying to pass voter ID laws to address the imaginary problem of in-person voter fraud. But, when you cut through all the high minded talk about the CONSTITUTION and the SANCTITY OF WHAT THE PEOPLE WANT, it's painfully obvious that what voter-ID enthusiasts really want is for women of color to shut up and let the white folk run things.

The Center for American Progress released a fascinating but depressing report yesterday that found that voter ID laws screw women of color over in two ways — by making it more difficult for them to vote, their voice in the electoral process is minimized, which means the elected officials who would actually represent their interests are losing to guys who think rape is just a penis-kiss from God. They're getting denied at the voting booth and the people who do get elected are a bunch of jagoffs who think women are literally made out of man-ribs and legislate accordingly. It's a double whammy of suck.

First, the report shows that women of color comprise the largest block of voters of color, and their civic engagement is increasing. Latina turnout increased 21% between 2004 and 2008, and during the last Presidential election, a larger percentage of black women than white women voted. Furthermore, behind most voter ID laws are really obvious, painfully oblivious racists who don't think anyone else notices that the laws they're trying to enact are specifically designed to discourage black people from voting. From the report,

An Ohio elections board member, for example, in discussing his vote against weekend voting hours, stated: "I guess I really actually feel we shouldn't contort the voting process to accommodate the urban - read African-American - voter-turnout machine."

Ohio has attempted to drastically limit both the periods for registering to vote and voting itself. Meanwhile, in South Carolina, the legislature passed a photo identification requirement, but because South Carolina has a history of racial discrimination and voter suppression based on race, a panel of judges in the District Court in Washington, D.C. was required to approve the law before it can go into effect. There was available evidence of racial animus, including an email discussion involving a South Carolina lawmaker. In the email exchange, the lawmaker affirmed a constituent's racially charged statement that if the legislature offered potential voters money to obtain identification cards, "it would be like a swarm of bees going after a watermelon," by replying with an "Amen." Despite that evidence, the court approved the law for 2013.

But it's not just Ohio and South Carolina that are attempting to keep women of color quiet; 34 states have introduced voter ID legislation, and 8 have passed them. Four will be in effect on election day. CAP estimates that between 596,000 and 959,000 women of color will lose their ability to vote on election day 2012.

But here's the thing: in-person voting fraud — which these laws are ostensibly designed to prevent — is much, much rarer than fatal shark attacks. In-person voter fraud only happens at a frequency 2.5 times greater than the frequency of Rush Limbaugh getting married and divorced. Since 2000, only 10 incidents of in-person voter impersonation have been reported. But legislating around this imaginary problem makes things much worse for women of color; according to the report, 25% of black voters and 16% of Latino voters lack photo ID, compared with a single-digit percentage of white voters. In states like Florida and Indiana, these restrictions that prevent US citizens from voting could swing elections.

And the elections will swing — SURPRISE! — to the right. And the right sure does like to attack women when they're out of ideas on how to fix the economy. The report details how the 61 new reproductive rights-restricting state laws passed this legislative session disproportionately affect women of color — from attempts to target South Asian women with so-called "prenatal nondiscrimination" bills to defunding Planned Parenthood in states where many women of color rely on the organization for reproductive and sexual health care. And all this loudly bellowed bluster from the Romney camp about how Obamacare will be repealed on "Day One" is a dramatically delivered middle finger flipped at uninsured women (53.2% of whom are nonwhite).

CAP's proposed solution to this bang-your-head-against-the-desk problem of old white men trying to cheat their way back into relevance is: KNOCK IT OFF (Seriously, the report reads, in its conclusion: "Stop disenfranchising voters and stop attacking women's reproductive rights."). But we know that the Dick Mourdocks and Todd Akins and Darrell Issas and Trent Franks and Paul Ryans and Mitt Romneys of the world won't stop doing what they're doing just because a liberal think tank told them to. Women, and men who give a shit about women, need to stay angry, stay awake, and remember that all those patriotic platitudes on cheap America tchotchkes are on your side. They's nothing less American than wanting fewer people to vote.

[Center for American Progress]



A woman stands at the registration window at Nuestra Clinica Del Valle in San Juan, Texas. About 85 percent of those served at the clinic are uninsured. Photo: AP Photo/Eric Gay

by Akiba Solomon
October 11 2012


On a patch of browning grass just 100 steps from the McAllen, Texas, headquarters of Planned Parenthood Association of Hidalgo County stands an eye-level banner featuring an adorable white infant on either side.

Wide-eyed and pensive, baby number one grasps an adult’s fingers while gazing toward the familiar pro-life tagline, “Take my hand not my life…” Baby number two is sleeping, thumb in mouth and naked except for a jumbo red ribbon tied around its torso. “Life. The Greatest Gift of All!” the caption announces.

The placement of this PVC guilt trip is ironic. While the Planned Parenthood network is the largest provider of publicly funded family planning services along the Texas/Mexico border, none of its locations perform abortions.

To “get your period back,” as some locals describe it, you’ll have to cross the border for relatively cheap, maybe-safe, over-the-counter drugs that might trigger a miscarriage if you take it early enough in your pregnancy, at the right dosage and at the correct intervals. Or, if you have the cash, credit, or private insurance coverage, you can book an appointment across town or two cities away, at one of two private abortion providers in the entire Rio Grande Valley.



Race & Women’s Health


INFOGRAPHIC: War on Women and Its Consequences


Another bit of irony: Thanks to the anti-choice public health policies advanced by the state’s Republican leadership, Hidalgo County’s poor and uninsured women have fewer sources of the birth control and exams they need to prevent unwanted pregnancies.

“I would say that 85 to 90 percent of our clients live below the federal poverty line. They’re uninsured and many of them have two or three children and don’t want any more,” says Patricio Gonzalez, the network’s CEO. “Basic healthcare access is just very bad here so the women don’t get [regular] screenings for STIs or cancers, and when they do get them they often need more diagnostic services because they’ve delayed care. You’ll hear them say, ‘I don’t have $60 or $100 for this lab test, or this ultrasound or this mammogram.’ “

Up until last September, when massive state budget cuts took effect, Planned Parenthood had eight clinics throughout the county and served about 21,000 mostly poor and Latino clients a year. Now the network is down to four centers. Stripped of public funding, the rural sites were the first to go.

Two years into what NARAL Pro-Choice America has famously dubbed the War on Women, the wear is beginning to show in cities and towns around the country where poor, uninsured women live. In the right’s new abortion war strategy, taking apart the infrastructure for family planning services—providers like Planned Parenthood, Title X funding and, now, the Affordable Care Act—is as important as triggering a Supreme Court challenge that will overturn Roe v. Wade. In just one year, dozens of clinics throughout Texas have shut down or slashed their hours—limiting options for poor and working women in even big cities like Austin and Dallas, and closing the doors of clinics that have nothing to do with Planned Parenthood. The state offers a striking example of the collateral damage that’s inevitable when anti-choice Republicans use the legislative equivalent of drone strikes to attack abortion rights.

To show me what rural poverty looks like in Hidalgo County, Planned Parenthood promotora (outreach worker) Dora Alicia Proa takes me to a colonia nearly 15 miles away from McAllen, in San Carlos. Colonias are unincorporated subdivisions founded in the 1950s by predatory developers who sold lots of barren and flood-prone land to poor Latin American migrant workers without installing basic infrastructure. They are synonymous with poverty. Literally. The Texas Secretary of State defines these communities as “residential areas along the Texas-Mexico border that may lack some of the most basic living necessities, such as potable water and sewer systems, electricity, paved roads, and safe and sanitary housing.”

Last year, Hidalgo County’s Planned Parenthood offered free birth control, STI testing, Well Woman exams and men’s health screenings at the San Carlos Community Resource Center. Now, to get the same services, patients have to drive up to 20 miles to the Edinburg clinic, where a physical, HIV test and Pap smear costs at least $60 and a monthly supply of birth control pills costs $20 at minimum.

The Hidalgo County Health and Human Services Department runs eight clinics where people of all ages can get a range of services, from tuberculosis treatment to newborn screenings. However, wait times are reportedly brutal, and the health department’s STI testing site is located in McAllen. Ostensibly to fill the void created by Planned Parenthood closures, the University of Texas Medical Branch opened a maternal health clinic in Hidalgo. But that site is also in McAllen; it specializes in pregnancy and prenatal care, and it doesn’t have weekend hours.

In one San Carlos household Proa and I visit—a cramped trailer on concrete blocks where the kitchen sink collides with bunk beds—Proa informs two young women that the Edinburg clinic is running a special on annual exams. They shake their heads at the mention of cash, then tsk tsk at six young boys and girls who are smiling shyly, pointing and calling me chocolate.

Next, Proa introduces me to a young woman standing in front of a three-room track house with dirt floors, a chunk of the roof missing and the toilet located in a crumbling shed next door. My Spanish is pitiful and neither Proa nor the homeowner speaks much English. But I can see that four small children and two adults share this space.

Within this context, it’s unclear how defunding conveniently located sources of free birth control, STI testing, Pap smears, clinical breast exams and other women’s health care is a pro-life activity. But this is what counts as logic in today’s abortion wars.

Two Years of Destruction

It’s hard to imagine a time when the Christian evangelical anti-abortion movement held such sway over the Republican party’s publicly stated agenda. Title X, a federal program that’s the leading source of family planning funds for low-income women, was established in 1970 under Richard Nixon and enjoyed wide bipartisan support despite chronic underfunding.

Since 2010, however, attacks on Title X have been relentless and overt. Between the tea party takeover of the House of Representatives and the steady stream of state-level anti-choice laws and ballot initiatives, radical anti-abortion Republicans have concentrated their power and they’ve been more than willing to wield it.

In Congress, an anti-choice dream team that includes Mike Pence of Indiana, vice presidential hopeful Paul Ryan of Wisconsin and Trent Franks of Arizona have turned their religiously based opposition to a legal medical procedure into a legislative priority. Among scores of anti-choice proposals, eight came to a full House vote in 2011, including Pence’s failed amendment that would have excluded Planned Parenthood from Title X funding.

During the marathon primary season, presidential hopefuls including a formerly pro-choice Mitt Romney, Rick Santorum, and Rick Perry tripped over themselves to condemn Planned Parenthood, Obamacare, contraception, abortion and unmarried vaginas. Romney even upped the ante and pledged to eliminate a major chunk of Title X funding altogether. This week his campaign reiterated his promise to be the “pro-life president,” after the notoriously hard-to-pin-down candidate told the Des Moines Register that he was unfamiliar with any “legislation with regards to abortion” that would become a part of his agenda. (In their endorsement statements, anti-choice juggernauts including Susan B. Anthony List and National Right to Life provide detailed lists of Romney’s agenda.)

The 2012 Republican Party Platform expands on the anti-abortion stance outlined in the 2008 version of the document. Now, it’s official GOP policy to defund health providers who “promote or perform abortion.” The platform also treats the scientifically unproven concept of first-trimester fetal pain as fact and praises congressional Republicans for banning Medicaid-funded abortions in Washington, D.C., a predominantly black city represented by a delegate without voting power.

In their attempt to stigmatize and outlaw abortion, some tea party-backed lawmakers have gone as far as to distort definitions of rape. In his amendment to the failed “No Taxpayer Support of Abortion” act, New Jersey Rep. Chris Smith changed the language of the so-called rape exception outlined in the Hyde Amendment to “forcible rape,” an outdated law enforcement term that excludes statutory rape and sexual violence against women who are intoxicated. This August, Missouri Republican senatorial candidate and sitting Congressman Todd Akin claimed that female bodies have the biological capacity to “shut down” conception during “legitimate rapes.”

Anti-choice activists and the lawmakers who represent them have also attempted to manipulate the legitimate concerns some people of color have about the history and modern limitations of publicly funded family planning. They have equated voluntary abortions with black genocide and compared the rights of fertilized eggs to those of enslaved Africans and freedmen denied citizenship via the 1857 Dred Scott decision. Arizona’s Franks coupled these race-baiting ideas with unsubstantiated claims of a growing trend in sex-selective abortion by Chinese immigrants. He floated two versions of an anti-choice bill called the Frederick Douglass and Susan B. Anthony Prenatal Nondiscrimination Act.

On the state level, Republican lawmakers enacted a record 69 anti-choice measures in 2011. For example, South Dakota’s GOP-dominated legislature mandated that women who have already decided to have an abortion must first visit an openly anti-choice crisis pregnancy center (CPC) for “counseling” beforehand. Arizona voided charitable status for any entity that performs or refers patients for abortions. Seven states—Indiana, Kansas, New Hampshire, North Carolina, Tennessee and Wisconsin—legally restricted the flow of family planning dollars to Planned Parenthood affiliates that already, by law, were not using the money to fund abortions.

All of this has made reproductive health a flash point in the 2012 elections. But a hardening reality is buried in the culture war surrounding Rush Limbaugh’s slurs and Todd Akin’s shocking claims: reproductive healthcare options are increasingly limited for people who are poor, uninsured, without a medical home and reliant on an ever-fraying healthcare safety net. These women—disproportionately Latinas and African American—are bearing the true brunt of the renewed attack on publicly funded family planning services. Nearly a third of all women who used those services in 2010 were Latina, and nearly 20 percent were black.

Lone Star Falling

Texas provides a striking example of the changes taking place at the local level.

The cash-strapped state has the highest percentage of uninsured people in the nation. This year it was ranked dead last in health care delivery by the nonpartisan federal Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality. In the most recent Texas Medical Association survey of private physicians in the state, only 30 percent said they would accept new Medicaid patients. (In 2000, 67 percent said they would.) Yet the Lone Star State has made a series of decisions that jeopardizes an entire network of family planning providers who do accept patients who need publicly funded care.

First, lawmakers slashed the state’s two-year family planning budget by 66 percent—from $111.5 million to $37.9 million. Then they created a three-tiered funding scheme for evaluating potential recipients of the federal family planning funds that the Texas Department of State Health Services administers.

Under this system, government agencies, universities, public hospitals and federally certified safety net clinics get the first crack at family planning service contracts. Comprehensive primary care providers are second in line. Last in line are nonprofits and community action organizations solely dedicated to family planning, including—you guessed it—Planned Parenthood.

Finally, lawmakers sabotaged the Texas’ Women’s Health Program (WHP), a widely heralded project that extended health care to a wider range of poor women.

Launched in 2005, WHP has allowed about 130,000 uninsured, low-income women ages 18 to 44 who weren’t able to meet Texas’s very narrow Medicaid eligibility requirements to receive no- or low-cost birth control and other preventative care each year. The program has been credited with saving the state about $183 million in Medicaid spending by averting nearly 17,000 unintended pregnancies. Planned Parenthood affiliates treated about 40 percent of women enrolled in WHP.

But last year—with the war on women in full tilt and Gov. Rick Perry in a presidential run—the GOP-dominated Texas legislature decided to enforce an existing rule that blocks providers that share a name, trademark or any other relationship with “an entity that performs or promotes elective abortions.” It was a blatant attempt to exclude Planned Parenthood from WHP.

The federal government, which supports the program via Medicaid, rejected the rule and threatened to withhold $35 million—90 percent of the WHP budget. Unlike Indiana anti-choicers who made a similar move last year, Texas stood its ground and lost the funding. Citing states rights, Perry vowed to “find the money” to maintain the program. The new Texas Women’s Health Program is set to debut on Nov. 1 and a lawsuit Planned Parenthood filed against the Texas health department is pending.

The WHP fiasco confirmed how far some anti-choice Republicans are willing to go to attack Planned Parenthood in 2012. Perry, a self-proclaimed fiscal conservative, turned away $35 million of federal funds in a presidential election year. Deficit reduction, fiscal responsibility and limited government intrusion in personal matters are supposed to be the bedrock principles of the post-tea party GOP. And yet Perry willingly entered a power struggle with the Obama administration at the expense of more than 100,000 poor women in his state.

Ironically, Texas clinics that are in no way affiliated with Planned Parenthood are at greatest risk of closure, says Fran Hagerty, CEO of the Austin-based Women’s Health and Family Planning Association of Texas.

“In the legislature’s effort to target Planned Parenthood and drive them out of Texas, everybody else has been caught in the net,” she says. “I have been telling [conservative legislators] for years that if they keep doing what they’re doing, we’re going to end up with no family planning providers except Planned Parenthood because they do such a bang-up job of getting national and local support. It’s the little guys in rural one-stoplight towns that no one has ever heard of—the community action organizations formed back in the 1950s under the Johnson administration—that are going under. The state is throwing the baby out with the bathwater.”

New data from UT Austin’s Texas Policy Evaluation Project confirm Hagerty’s thrown-baby theory.

The nonpartisan research team surveyed the 76 agencies that received public funding for family planning and reproductive health care in fiscal year 2010—before the most dramatic budget cuts kicked in. Of the 240 clinics run by survey respondents, a staggering 22 percent have closed their doors and 16 percent have cut their hours. Dedicated family planning groups fared the worst: more than one third closed their doors and nearly 40 percent reduced their hours.

Urban Upheaval

Armed with an ebullient voice, easy smile and bright almond-shaped eyes, Chenoa Elizabeth, 32, is an ideal volunteer for the North Texas Planned Parenthood clinic where she is also a patient. As she rattles off familiar talking points—how the Dallas-area center provides “amazing, compassionate, quality care” for low-income women like herself—I can’t help but think that she’s handling me the way she would a customer at the boutiques and cocktail lounges where she’s worked for most of her adult life.

Until she starts with the sobbing. In the stutter-step dialect of panic and humiliation, the Hurricane Katrina survivor of Trinidadian and Scottish descent tries to explain why she’s so attached to this particular clinic. She tells me that she was raped in her early 20s, that she terminated the resulting pregnancy and that she uses a Planned Parenthood-installed 12-year Paraguard IUD because she never, ever wants children. She also notes that she’s a severe asthmatic who didn’t see a non-emergency doctor from 2008 to 2011 because she didn’t have insurance. Elizabeth, who’s pursing her associates degree in peace and justice studies, did have private health benefits once. But then a global corporation acquired the music venue where she was working, transferred her to Dallas and cut her hours, rendering her ineligible for coverage. Today she has limited coverage under WHP, because administrators at this Planned Parenthood branch introduced her to the program and walked her through the enrollment process. But now that the clinic can’t take her WHP benefits, Elizabeth worries that she’ll lose access to an organization that gives her a sense of stability and safety. “I’ve always been able to take care of myself, and I’m trying so hard,” she tells me.

Rural towns like those in Hidalgo County aren’t the only losers in the defunding game. The cuts have wide ranging effects on providers that women like Elizabeth turn to in big cities as well.

Take Austin-based People’s Community Clinic, which has a patient population that is 78 percent Latino and 75 percent at or below the federal poverty line.

According to Celia Neavel, director of the clinic’s Center for Adolescent Health, the 42-year-old nonprofit received a half million dollars in federal funding prior to the budget cuts. As a Title X provider, the clinic could treat a wide range of teen patients without parental consent and they were able to buy contraceptives at a greatly reduced rate. In the funding carnage of 2011, the clinic lost all of these funds and the legal and purchasing protections of Title X.

“We’ve been scrambling to raise money so that we don’t turn patients away or bill them,” says Neaval, who admits to feeling frustrated and drained. In addition to reducing hours and forcing shutdowns, family planning budget cuts also drove up the cost of subsidized birth control and, in some cases, made confidential care for minors illegal. “There is some sadness as well, that now we can’t get a teen who has already had one pregnancy a long lasting, reversible form of birth control or the confidential care she needs.”

Patients are feeling the same anxieties. “When I think about losing my health insurance or what will happen if my IUD slips, or if I get sick,” says Elizabeth, “I just don’t know. I don’t know…what I’m going to do.”

Legislators who gutted the state’s family planning networks have an idea of what she should do: Seek select medical care from an overtly religious crisis pregnancy center (CPC) that specializes in talking pregnant women out of abortions.

Marketing itself as Houston’s first “life affirming pregnancy medical clinic,” The Source for Women Spring Branch held its big opening bash in mid-September. Like countless other CPCs around the country, The Source locations were founded for the express purpose of persuading “abortion-vulnerable” girls and women to continue unintended pregnancies using Bible study, “therapeutic counseling,” “reproductive health counseling,” and classes in marriage, parenting, adoption, cooking.

But now that Texas is rolling out Gov. Perry’s fully state-funded, anti-choice version of WHP, The Source has repositioned itself as a healthcare provider that offers traditional family planning services. Think of it as Planned Parenthood, plus Jesus.

In a late September email, The Source spokesperson Tiffany Pardue told me that the spanking new Spring branch, which aims to be a WHP provider by the program’s Nov. 1 relaunch, will offer its clients STI testing and treatment; breast, pelvic and anal exams; Pap smears; referrals for mammograms, and something the organization calls “a verbal review of your gynecologic system.”

Conspicuously absent from The Source’s current menu of expanded services? Birth control. It’s a confusing omission given the original intent of WHP—to reduce the number of Medicaid-funded births in Texas by preventing unintended pregnancies.

According to Pardue, the “life-affirming” nonprofit’s board hasn’t yet decided which contraceptives it will offer. “Our medical team is considering each medical service and prescription that we will provide to serve the women of Houston,” she wrote. “A full list will be made available upon determination.”

The Source’s lack of specificity about contraception didn’t deter Gov. Perry from participating in the Spring Branch ribbon cutting. In his official remarks he hailed it as a model WHP provider.

“The Source gives women with unexpected pregnancies the information and the support they need to make the right choice, the choice of life,” Perry said. “We’ve banned the use of your tax dollars for abortion procedures in Texas, and expanded that ban to include those affiliated with abortion providers in the case of our Women’s Health Program. … The Source for Women clinics, in fact, will be part of Texas’ own Women’s Health Program, and Planned Parenthood will not be.”

As Goes Texas…?

About three months after our first interview, Chenoa Elizabeth sends me a shocking email. In it, she details how she was sexually assaulted for a second time this past March. “This attack has been much more difficult for me to process,” she wrote. “There was a man who approached me in a coffee shop posing as a business owner and offered me a job. … I thought this was the financial breakthrough that I had been waiting for, but instead I waltzed right into a trap.”

To avoid the trauma—and the expense—of an ER exam, Elizabeth didn’t report the assault to police or seek emergency care. When we last spoke, she hadn’t been tested for STIs, either. “Yes, I could use WHP with a different provider,” she acknowledged. “But I don’t want to have to sacrifice receiving compassionate and specialized care because I’m low-income.”

Elizabeth’s experience speaks to one of the least acknowledged consequences of the war on women’s reproductive health care. All women—hell, all people—should be able to get the medical attention they need in an environment that makes them feel as safe as possible. By turning something as personal as gynecological care into a political battleground, Texas provides us with a blueprint for what doesn’t work.

In the run-up to the presidential election and the full implementation of Obamacare, anti-choice Republicans have taken umbrage at the “war on women” metaphor, but they have not changed course. Red state governments, along with religiously affiliated hospital networks and universities have filed court challenges to repeal health reform or gut its birth control coverage requirements. In these cases, state officials have used the rhetoric of religious freedom to deny women birth control and abortion coverage in the private insurance policies for which they pay premiums. Similarly about 15 states have signaled that they will reject Medicaid expansion, a core component of the plan. Fourteen have outlawed abortion coverage in their insurance exchanges. It’s likely that the next wave of anti-choice sabotage will be centered on insurance coverage.

Only time will tell if the new Texas Women’s Health Program will provide a seamless transition for the hundreds of thousands of women enrolled in it. The overall impact of family planning clinic closures on the health of poor Texas women is also a big question mark.

What’s clear is that politicizing health care is a dangerous, crazy-making game. Hopefully Texas will serve as an example of what not to do, instead of an inspiration for anti-choice crusaders who seem all too willing to sacrifice the reproductive health of poor women to say they have won.

Friday, October 12, 2012

OPEN LETTER TO MY SISTER REGINA TODAY ABOUT AMERICAN POLITICS, WHITE VOTERS, AND BARACK OBAMA

Regina,  

Here is the real immediate danger in this election for the President...

The major political problem for both President Obama and American society and culture generally as I've been saying consistently both verbally and in print for many years now is that the United States is thoroughly dominated and controlled by the widespread electoral and institutional racism and sexism of white men.  As I've pointed out to you and many others over and over again during the past five years in the Panopticon Review the electoral statistics confirming this huge ongoing problem are simply horrific.  For example in the past 60 years going back to 1952 there have been 15 national presidential elections. IN EVERY SINGLE ELECTION EXCEPT ONE (1964) white American voters in general have voted for the Republican candidate 14 times!  (or a whopping 93% of the time!).  During this same period since 1952 over 70%  of ALL WHITE MALE VOTERS have consistently voted for the Republican candidate (in 2008 65% of them voted for McCain).  Since male and female white Americans together currently make up 74% of the entire U.S. voting population (and in the recent historical past--especially before 1992) constituted anywhere from 80-85% of the American voting population--and white males were nearly one half of that total-- it has always been VERY difficult to get any liberal or progressive politicians elected to the Presidency.  For example of the last 15 elections since 1952 NINE of them were won by the Republicans (Eisenhower in both 1952 and 1956, Nixon in both 1968 and 1972, Ronald Reagan in 1980 and 1984, George H.W. Bush in 1988 and his son George W. Bush in both 2000 and 2004). This means that since 1952 or in the last 60 years ONLY ONE Democratic Party presidential candidate (Bill Clinton who won in 1992 and 1996) has been re-elected while FOUR Republicans have been.  The only other Democratic presidents have been John F. Kennedy who was assassinated before he could finish one term, Lyndon Johnson who served only one term from 1964-1968, Jimmy Carter who also served only one term from 1976-1980, and of course Obama who has served one term.  During this incredible historical run the Republicans have been elected to the White House an amazing 60% of the time over this 60 year period (36 years to 24 for the Democrats).  The overwhelming reason for this is that white male voters across the board (that is from every single economic class group from the very poor to the very rich!) have always and continue to vote for the most backward, reactionary, racist, sexist, and militaristic candidates no matter what. These stubbornly ignorant people NEVER vote in their own political and economic self interest and would rather vote for the super wealthy white Republican male elite who don't give a damn about them EXCEPT at election time.  Still, the average percentage of white male voters who voted for Republicans from 1952 to 1992 was well over 70% in every single election and it is only in the last 20 years or since 1992 that this percentage has gone down even a little bit (from 1992-2008 the average percentage of white males who voted for the Republican candidate was 65%--still a HUGE number especially given the fact that of the 96 million white voters--out of a national total of 130 million--who cast their votes in the 2008 election--over 47 million of them were white men!). The ominous significance of this is that this white male voting demographic alone is larger the entire African American population (and also happens to be the same size as the entire Latino/Hispanic population). The average percentage of white male voters who voted for Republicans from 1952 to 1992 was well over 70% in every single election and it is only in the last 20 years or since 1992 that this percentage has gone down even a little bit (from 1992-2008 the average percentage of white males who voted for the Republican candidate was 65%--still a HUGE number especially given the fact that of the 96 million white voters--out of a national total of 130 million--who cast their votes in the 2008 election--over 47 million of them were white men!).

This is the reason why both the Republicans and the Tea Party--another national group dominated by white males--continue to  advocate, support, and pass the most virulently racist, sexist, and classist legislation in the country not only in Congress but in state legislatures throughout the country and why Obama has been opposed 100% by the Republicans and the Tea Party ON EVERY SINGLE MAJOR LEGISLATIVE PROPOSAL HE HAS EVER TRIED TO PASS SINCE BEING ELECTED IN 2008. This is why male and female African American, Latino American and Asian American voters are absolutely crucial to Obama if he wants to win (81% of these "minority" voters in general voted for Obama in 2008 and as we know 95% of black voters did) What is also equally crucial for Obama's chances at re-election is the electoral support of the white American female vote--a majority of whom have consistently voted for Democratic candidates since 1968 and in 2008 54% of whom voted for Obama). The major demographic political shift in recent national elections has been that of white voters (both male and female) UNDER the age of 40 who always vote for Democrats and have done so since 1988.  70% of these voters voted for Obama in 2008. However white male voters OVER 40 are notoriously anti-Obama and  thus  pro-Romney.  The very big problem here is that 75% of white male voters over 40 who hate Obama make up nearly 40% of the total U.S. electorate.  So until at least one of the generations of white voters start dying out (i.e. those over 65 years old) we will continue to have a major problem with this group in American politics. And if Obama loses the election it will largely be because of this traditionally very angry, very racist, very sexist, very reactionary, and very pro-wealthy part of the American voting public. This is still the fundamental social and ideological reality in this country and no amount of wishing or simply insisting it was otherwise is gonna change it...Scary, huh?...

Kofi         


On Oct 10, 2012, Regina wrote:
 
I KNOW WHY FOLKS DON'T LIKE OBAMA...WHAT I NEED TO HEAR MORE ABOUT IS "WHY" FOLKS LIKE ROMNEY...AT ALL????

AS YOU POINT OUT, HE'S A PATHOLOGICAL LIAR!!!!!!  ARE THE MIDDLE-AGE AND OLDER WHITE MEN ENOUGH TO PUT HIM OVER THE TOP OR HAVE WE ALL GONE STUPID --I.E., WOMEN, YOUNG FOLK, OLDER AMERICANS WHO NEED THEIR HEALTHCARE, LATINOS, ASIANS, THE LGBT COMMUNITY ETC......

Sunday, August 26, 2012

THE HEINOUS IMPACT OF THE RACIST DOCTRINE OF WHITE SUPREMACY ON BARACK OBAMA'S PRESIDENCY AND HIS RECURRING PROBLEMATIC RESPONSE TO IT

Painting by Bill Sanderson


http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2012/09/fear-of-a-black-president/309064/?single_page=true

All,

I find that much if not most of what both the fervent supporters and rabid enemies of President Obama often say about him and what he's about (or not about) is completely absurd/ridiculous/dishonest/hypocritical/irrational/ignorant and FALSE. But that's because this is an extremely racist society and culture and it remains as it has for the last four centuries the leading bastion of the doctrine of white supremacy in the world. As a result what far too many Americans "think" about Obama and his presidency (whether they "like" him or not) is not informed by reality, insight, or knowledge at all but rather fantasy/delusions/clinical insanity/intellectual laziness and LIES. However, what Coates says about all this in the following essay/article is some of the very best and most useful writing I have ever read on this topic even though I don't agree with everything he says about Obama and his presidency either. But at least Coates THINKS CLEARLY and KNOWS what he's talking about which is a great leap forward and thus far ahead in form and content of what I see and hear far too many other folks saying and writing about the President either pro or con these days...So thanks Ta-Nehisi...

Kofi


Fear of a Black President
by TA-NEHISI COATES
SEPTEMBER 2012
The Atlantic


As a candidate, Barack Obama said we needed to reckon with race and with America’s original sin, slavery. But as our first black president, he has avoided mention of race almost entirely. In having to be “twice as good” and “half as black,” Obama reveals the false promise and double standard of integration.


The irony of President Barack Obama is best captured in his comments on the death of Trayvon Martin, and the ensuing fray. Obama has pitched his presidency as a monument to moderation. He peppers his speeches with nods to ideas originally held by conservatives. He routinely cites Ronald Reagan. He effusively praises the enduring wisdom of the American people, and believes that the height of insight lies in the town square. Despite his sloganeering for change and progress, Obama is a conservative revolutionary, and nowhere is his conservative character revealed more than in the very sphere where he holds singular gravity—race.

Part of that conservatism about race has been reflected in his reticence: for most of his term in office, Obama has declined to talk about the ways in which race complicates the American present and, in particular, his own presidency. But then, last February, George Zimmerman, a 28-year-old insurance underwriter, shot and killed a black teenager, Trayvon Martin, in Sanford, Florida. Zimmerman, armed with a 9 mm handgun, believed himself to be tracking the movements of a possible intruder. The possible intruder turned out to be a boy in a hoodie, bearing nothing but candy and iced tea. The local authorities at first declined to make an arrest, citing Zim mer man’s claim of self-defense. Protests exploded nationally. Skittles and Arizona Iced Tea assumed totemic power. Celebrities—the actor Jamie Foxx, the former Michigan governor Jennifer Granholm, members of the Miami Heat—were photographed wearing hoodies. When Rep resentative Bobby Rush of Chicago took to the House floor to denounce racial profiling, he was removed from the chamber after donning a hoodie mid-speech.

In his first two years as president, Obama talked less about race than any other Democratic president since 1961. Obama’s racial strategy has been, if anything, the opposite of radical: he declines to use his bully pulpit to address racism, using it instead to engage in the time-honored tradition of black self-hectoring, railing against the perceived failings of black culture.


Ta-Nehisi Coates talks with Atlantic magazine editor Scott Stossel about the anger behind this article.

The reaction to the tragedy was, at first, trans-partisan. Conservatives either said nothing or offered tepid support for a full investigation—and in fact it was the Republican governor of Florida, Rick Scott, who appointed the special prosecutor who ultimately charged Zimmerman with second-degree murder. As civil-rights activists descended on Florida, National Review, a magazine that once opposed integration, ran a column proclaiming “Al Sharpton Is Right.” The belief that a young man should be able to go to the store for Skittles and an iced tea and not be killed by a neighborhood- watch patroller seemed uncontroversial.

By the time reporters began asking the White House for comment, the president likely had already given the matter considerable thought. Obama is not simply America’s first black president—he is the first president who could credibly teach a black-studies class. He is fully versed in the works of Richard Wright and James Baldwin, Frederick Douglass and Malcolm X. Obama’s two autobiographies are deeply concerned with race, and in front of black audiences he is apt to cite important but obscure political figures such as George Henry White, who served from 1897 to 1901 and was the last African American congressman to be elected from the South until 1970. But with just a few notable exceptions, the president had, for the first three years of his presidency, strenuously avoided talk of race. And yet, when Trayvon Martin died, talk Obama did:

When I think about this boy, I think about my own kids, and I think every parent in America should be able to understand why it is absolutely imperative that we investigate every aspect of this, and that everybody pulls together—federal, state, and local—to figure out exactly how this tragedy happened …

But my main message is to the parents of Trayvon Martin. If I had a son, he’d look like Trayvon. I think they are right to expect that all of us as Americans are going to take this with the seriousness it deserves, and that we’re going to get to the bottom of exactly what happened.

The moment Obama spoke, the case of Trayvon Martin passed out of its national-mourning phase and lapsed into something darker and more familiar—racialized political fodder. The illusion of consensus crumbled. Rush Limbaugh denounced Obama’s claim of empathy. The Daily Caller, a conservative Web site, broadcast all of Martin’s tweets, the most loutish of which revealed him to have committed the un pardonable sin of speaking like a 17-year-old boy. A white- supremacist site called Stormfront produced a photo of Martin with pants sagging, flipping the bird. Business Insider posted the photograph and took it down without apology when it was revealed to be a fake.

Newt Gingrich pounced on Obama’s comments: “Is the president suggesting that if it had been a white who had been shot, that would be okay because it wouldn’t look like him?” Reverting to form, National Review decided the real problem was that we were interested in the deaths of black youths only when nonblacks pulled the trigger. John Derbyshire, writing for Taki’s Magazine, an iconoclastic libertarian publication, composed a racist advice column for his children inspired by the Martin affair. (Among Derbyshire’s tips: never help black people in any kind of distress; avoid large gatherings of black people; cultivate black friends to shield yourself from charges of racism.)

The notion that Zimmerman might be the real victim began seeping out into the country, aided by PR efforts by his family and legal team, as well as by various acts of stupidity— Spike Lee tweeting Zimmerman’s address (an act made all the more repugnant by the fact that he had the wrong Zimmer­man), NBC misleadingly editing a tape of Zimmerman’s phone conversation with a police dispatcher to make Zimmer man seem to be racially profiling Martin. In April, when Zimmerman set up a Web site to collect donations for his defense, he raised more than $200,000 in two weeks, before his lawyer asked that he close the site and launched a new, independently managed legal-defense fund. Although the trial date has yet to be set, as of July the fund was still raking in up to $1,000 in donations daily.

But it would be wrong to attribute the burgeoning support for Zimmerman to the blunders of Spike Lee or an NBC producer. Before President Obama spoke, the death of Trayvon Martin was generally regarded as a national tragedy. After Obama spoke, Martin became material for an Internet vendor flogging paper gun-range targets that mimicked his hoodie and his bag of Skittles. (The vendor sold out within a week.) Before the president spoke, George Zimmerman was arguably the most reviled man in America. After the president spoke, Zimmerman became the patron saint of those who believe that an apt history of racism begins with Tawana Brawley and ends with the Duke lacrosse team.

The irony of Barack Obama is this: he has become the most successful black politician in American history by avoiding the radioactive racial issues of yesteryear, by being “clean” (as Joe Biden once labeled him)—and yet his indelible blackness irradiates everything he touches. This irony is rooted in the greater ironies of the country he leads. For most of American history, our political system was premised on two conflicting facts—one, an oft-stated love of democracy; the other, an undemocratic white supremacy inscribed at every level of government. In warring against that paradox, African Americans have historically been restricted to the realm of protest and agitation. But when President Barack Obama pledged to “get to the bottom of exactly what happened,” he was not protesting or agitating. He was not appealing to federal power—he was employing it. The power was black—and, in certain quarters, was received as such.

No amount of rhetorical moderation could change this. It did not matter that the president addressed himself to “every parent in America.” His insistence that “everybody [pull] together” was irrelevant. It meant nothing that he declined to cast aspersions on the investigating authorities, or to speculate on events. Even the fact that Obama expressed his own connection to Martin in the quietest way imaginable—“If I had a son, he’d look like Trayvon”—would not mollify his opposition. It is, after all, one thing to hear “I am Trayvon Martin” from the usual placard-waving rabble-rousers. Hearing it from the commander of the greatest military machine in human history is another.

By virtue of his background—the son of a black man and a white woman, someone who grew up in multiethnic communities around the world—Obama has enjoyed a distinctive vantage point on race relations in America. Beyond that, he has displayed enviable dexterity at navigating between black and white America, and at finding a language that speaks to a critical mass in both communities. He emerged into national view at the Democratic National Convention in 2004, with a speech heralding a nation uncolored by old prejudices and shameful history. There was no talk of the effects of racism. Instead Obama stressed the power of parenting, and condemned those who would say that a black child carrying a book was “acting white.” He cast himself as the child of a father from Kenya and a mother from Kansas and asserted, “In no other country on Earth is my story even possible.” When, as a senator, he was asked if the response to Hurricane Katrina evidenced racism, Obama responded by calling the “ineptitude” of the response “color-blind.”

Racism is not merely a simplistic hatred. It is, more often, broad sympathy toward some and broader skepticism toward others. Black America ever lives under that skeptical eye. Hence the old admonishments to be “twice as good.” Hence the need for a special “talk” administered to black boys about how to be extra careful when relating to the police. And hence Barack Obama’s insisting that there was no racial component to Katrina’s effects; that name-calling among children somehow has the same import as one of the oldest guiding principles of American policy—white supremacy. The election of an African American to our highest political office was alleged to demonstrate a triumph of integration. But when President Obama addressed the tragedy of Trayvon Martin, he demonstrated integration’s great limitation—that acceptance depends not just on being twice as good but on being half as black. And even then, full acceptance is still withheld. The larger effects of this withholding constrict Obama’s presidential potential in areas affected tangentially—or seemingly not at all—by race. Meanwhile, across the country, the community in which Obama is rooted sees this fraudulent equality, and quietly seethes.

Obama’s first term has coincided with a strategy of massive resistance on the part of his Republican opposition in the House, and a record number of filibuster threats in the Senate. It would be nice if this were merely a reaction to Obama’s politics or his policies—if this resistance truly were, as it is generally described, merely one more sign of our growing “polarization” as a nation. But the greatest abiding challenge to Obama’s national political standing has always rested on the existential fact that if he had a son, he’d look like Trayvon Martin. As a candidate, Barack Obama understood this.

“The thing is, a black man can’t be president in America, given the racial aversion and history that’s still out there,” Cornell Belcher, a pollster for Obama, told the journalist Gwen Ifill after the 2008 election. “However, an extraordinary, gifted, and talented young man who happens to be black can be president.”

Belcher’s formulation grants the power of anti-black racism, and proposes to defeat it by not acknowledging it. His is the perfect statement of the Obama era, a time marked by a revolution that must never announce itself, by a democracy that must never acknowledge the weight of race, even while being shaped by it. Barack Obama governs a nation enlightened enough to send an African American to the White House, but not enlightened enough to accept a black man as its president.

Before Barack Obama, the “black president” lived in the African American imagination as a kind of cosmic joke, a phantom of all that could never be. White folks, whatever their talk of freedom and liberty, would not allow a black president. They could not tolerate Emmett’s boyish gaze. Dr. King turned the other cheek, and they blew it off. White folks shot Lincoln over “nigger equality,” ran Ida Wells out of Memphis, beat Freedom Riders over bus seats, slaughtered Medgar in his driveway like a dog. The comedian Dave Chappelle joked that the first black president would need a “Vice President Santiago”—because the only thing that would ensure his life in the White House was a Hispanic president- in-waiting. A black president signing a bill into law might as well sign his own death certificate.

The moment Obama spoke, the Trayvon case passed out of its mourning phase and into something dark and familiar—racialized political fodder.

And even if white folks could moderate their own penchant for violence, we could not moderate our own. A long-suffering life on the wrong side of the color line had denuded black people of the delicacy necessary to lead the free world. In a skit on his 1977 TV comedy show, Richard Pryor, as a black president, conceded that he was “courting an awful lot of white women” and held a press conference that erupted into a riot after a reporter requested that the president’s momma clean his house. More recently, the comedian Cedric the Entertainer joked that a black president would never have made it through Monicagate without turning a press conference into a battle royal. When Chappelle tried to imagine how a black George W. Bush would have justified the war against Saddam Hussein, his character (“Black Bush”) simply yelled, “The nigger tried to kill my father!”

Thus, in hard jest, the paradoxes and problems of a theoretical black presidency were given voice. Racism would not allow a black president. Nor would a blackness, forged by America’s democratic double-talk, that was too ghetto and raw for the refinement of the Oval Office. Just beneath the humor lurked a resonant pain, the scars of history, an aching doubt rooted in the belief that “they” would never accept us. And so in our Harlems and Paradise Valleys, we invoked a black presidency the way a legion of 5-foot point guards might invoke the dunk—as evidence of some great cosmic injustice, weighty in its import, out of reach.

And yet Spud Webb lives.

When presidential candidate Barack Obama presented himself to the black community, he was not to be believed. It strained credulity to think that a man sporting the same rigorously managed haircut as Jay-Z, a man who was a hard-core pickup basketball player, and who was married to a dark-skinned black woman from the South Side, could coax large numbers of white voters into the booth. Obama’s blackness quotient is often a subject of debate. (He himself once joked, while speaking to the National Association of Black Journalists in 2007, “I want to apologize for being a little bit late, but you guys keep on asking whether I’m black enough.”) But despite Obama’s post-election reluctance to talk about race, he has always displayed both an obvious affinity for black culture and a distinct ability to defy black America’s worst self-conceptions.

The crude communal myth about black men is that we are in some manner unavailable to black women—either jailed, dead, gay, or married to white women. A corollary myth posits a direct and negative relationship between success and black culture. Before we actually had one, we could not imagine a black president who loved being black. In The Audacity of Hope, Obama describes his first kiss with the woman who would become his wife as tasting “of chocolate.” The line sounds ripped from Essence magazine. That’s the point.

These cultural cues became important during Obama’s presidential run and beyond. Obama doesn’t merely evince blackness; he uses his blackness to signal and court African Americans, semaphoring in a cultural dialect of our creation—crooning Al Green at the Apollo, name-checking Young Jeezy, regularly appearing on the cover of black magazines, weighing the merits of Jay-Z versus Kanye West, being photo graphed in the White House with a little black boy touching his hair. There is often something mawkish about this signaling—like a Virginia politico thickening his southern accent when talking to certain audiences. If you’ve often been the butt of political signaling (Sister Souljah, Willie Horton), and rarely the recipient, these displays of cultural affinity are powerful. And they are all the more powerful because Obama has been successful. Whole sections of America that we had assumed to be negro phobic turned out in support of him in 2008. Whatever Obama’s other triumphs, arguably his greatest has been an expansion of the black imagination to encompass this: the idea that a man can be culturally black and many other things also—biracial, Ivy League, intellectual, cosmopolitan, temperamentally conservative, presidential.

It is often said that Obama’s presidency has given black parents the right to tell their kids with a straight face that they can do anything. This is a function not only of Obama’s election to the White House but of the way his presidency broadcasts an easy, almost mystic, blackness to the world. The Obama family represents our ideal imagining of ourselves—an ideal we so rarely see on any kind of national stage.

What black people are experiencing right now is a kind of privilege previously withheld—seeing our most sacred cultural practices and tropes validated in the world’s highest office. Throughout the whole of American history, this kind of cultural power was wielded solely by whites, and with such ubiquity that it was not even commented upon. The expansion of this cultural power beyond the private province of whites has been a tremendous advance for black America. Conversely, for those who’ve long treasured white exclusivity, the existence of a President Barack Obama is discombobulating, even terrifying. For as surely as the iconic picture of the young black boy reaching out to touch the president’s curly hair sends one message to black America, it sends another to those who have enjoyed the power of whiteness.


In America, the rights to own property, to serve on a jury, to vote, to hold public office, to rise to the presidency have historically been seen as belonging only to those people who showed particular integrity. Citizenship was a social contract in which persons of moral standing were transformed into stakeholders who swore to defend the state against threats external and internal. Until a century and a half ago, slave rebellion ranked high in the fevered American imagination of threats necessitating such an internal defense.

In the early years of our republic, when democracy was still an unproven experiment, the Founders were not even clear that all white people should be entrusted with this fragile venture, much less the bestial African. Thus Congress, in 1790, declared the following:

All free white persons who have, or shall migrate into the United States, and shall give satisfactory proof, before a magistrate, by oath, that they intend to reside therein, and shall take an oath of allegiance, and shall have resided in the United States for one whole year, shall be entitled to all the rights of citizenship.

In such ways was the tie between citizenship and whiteness in America made plain from the very beginning. By the 19th century, there was, as Matthew Jacobson, a professor of history and American studies at Yale, has put it, “an un questioned acceptance of whiteness as a prerequisite for natural ized citizenship.” Debating Abraham Lincoln during the race for a U.S. Senate seat in Illinois in 1858, Stephen Douglas asserted that “this government was made on the white basis” and that the Framers had made “no reference either to the Negro, the savage Indians, the Feejee, the Malay, or an other inferior and degraded race, when they spoke of the equality of men.”

After the Civil War, Andrew Johnson, Lincoln’s successor as president and a unionist, scoffed at awarding the Negro the franchise:

The peculiar qualities which should characterize any people who are fit to decide upon the management of public affairs for a great state have seldom been combined. It is the glory of white men to know that they have had these qualities in sufficient measure to build upon this continent a great political fabric and to preserve its stability for more than ninety years, while in every other part of the world all similar experiments have failed. But if anything can be proved by known facts, if all reasoning upon evidence is not abandoned, it must be acknowledged that in the progress of nations Negroes have shown less capacity for government than any other race of people. No independent government of any form has ever been successful in their hands. On the contrary, wherever they have been left to their own devices they have shown a constant tendency to relapse into barbarism.

The notion of blacks as particularly unfit for political equality persisted well into the 20th century. As the nation began considering integrating its military, a young West Virginian wrote to a senator in 1944:

I am a typical American, a southerner, and 27 years of age … I am loyal to my country and know but reverence to her flag, BUT I shall never submit to fight beneath that banner with a negro by my side. Rather I should die a thousand times, and see Old Glory trampled in the dirt never to rise again, than to see this beloved land of ours become degraded by race mongrels, a throw back to the blackest specimen from the wilds.

The writer—who never joined the military, but did join the Ku Klux Klan—was Robert Byrd, who died in 2010 as the longest-serving U.S. senator in history. Byrd’s rejection of political equality was echoed in 1957 by William F. Buckley Jr., who addressed the moral disgrace of segregation by endorsing disenfranchisement strictly based on skin color:

The central question that emerges—and it is not a parliamentary question or a question that is answered by merely consulting a catalog of the rights of American citizens, born Equal—is whether the White community in the South is entitled to take such measures as are necessary to prevail, politically and culturally, in areas in which it does not predominate numerically? The sobering answer is Yes—the White community is so entitled because, for the time being, it is the advanced race.

Buckley, the founder of National Review, went on to assert, “The great majority of the Negroes of the South who do not vote do not care to vote and would not know for what to vote if they could.”

The myth of “twice as good” that makes Obama possible also smothers him. It holds that blacks feel no anger toward their tormentors.

The idea that blacks should hold no place of consequence in the American political future has affected every sector of American society, transforming whiteness itself into a monopoly on American possibilities. White people like Byrd and Buckley were raised in a time when, by law, they were assured of never having to compete with black people for the best of anything. Blacks used in ferior public pools and inferior washrooms, attended inferior schools. The nicest restaurants turned them away. In large swaths of the country, blacks paid taxes but could neither attend the best universities nor exercise the right to vote. The best jobs, the richest neighborhoods, were giant set-asides for whites—universal affirmative action, with no pretense of restitution.

Slavery, Jim Crow, segregation: these bonded white people into a broad aristocracy united by the salient fact of unblackness. What Byrd saw in an integrated military was the crumbling of the ideal of whiteness, and thus the crumbling of an entire society built around it. Whatever the saintly nonviolent rhetoric used to herald it, racial integration was a brutal assault on whiteness. The American presidency, an unbroken streak of nonblack men, was, until 2008, the greatest symbol of that old order.

Watching Obama rack up victories in states like Virginia, New Mexico, Ohio, and North Carolina on Election Night in 2008, anyone could easily conclude that racism, as a national force, had been defeated. The thought should not be easily dismissed: Obama’s victory demonstrates the incredible distance this country has traveled. (Indeed, William F. Buckley Jr. later revised his early positions on race; Robert Byrd spent decades in Congress atoning for his.) That a country that once took whiteness as the foundation of citizenship would elect a black president is a victory. But to view this victory as racism’s defeat is to forget the precise terms on which it was secured, and to ignore the quaking ground beneath Obama’s feet.

During the 2008 primary, The New Yorker’s George Packer journeyed to Kentucky and was shocked by the brazen declarations of white identity. “I think he would put too many minorities in positions over the white race,” one voter told Packer. “That’s my opinion.” That voter was hardly alone. In 2010, Michael Tesler, a political scientist at Brown University, and David Sears, a professor of psychology and political science at UCLA, were able to assess the impact of race in the 2008 primary by comparing data from two 2008 campaign and election studies with previous surveys of racial resentment and voter choice. As they wrote in Obama’s Race: The 2008 Election and the Dream of a Post-Racial America:

No other factor, in fact, came close to dividing the Democratic primary electorate as powerfully as their feelings about African Americans. The impact of racial attitudes on individual vote decisions … was so strong that it appears to have even outstripped the substantive impact of racial attitudes on Jesse Jackson’s more racially charged campaign for the nomination in 1988.

Seth Stephens-Davidowitz, a doctoral candidate in economics at Harvard, is studying how racial animus may have cost Obama votes in 2008. First, Stephens- Davidowitz ranked areas of the country according to how often people there typed racist search terms into Google. (The areas with the highest rates of racially charged search terms were West Virginia, western Pennsylvania, eastern Ohio, upstate New York, and southern Mississippi.) Then he compared Obama’s voting results in those areas with John Kerry’s four years earlier. So, for instance, in 2004 Kerry received 50 percent of the vote in the media markets of both Denver and Wheeling (which straddles the Ohio–West Virginia border). Based on the Democratic groundswell in 2008, Obama should have received about 57 percent of the popular vote in both regions. But that’s not what happened. In the Denver area, which had one of the nation’s lowest rates of racially charged Google searching, Obama received the predicted 57 percent. But in Wheeling, which had a high rate of racially charged Google searching, Obama’s share of the popular vote was only 48 percent. Of course, Obama also picked up some votes because he is black. But, aggregating his findings nationally, Stephens-Davidowitz has concluded that Obama lost between 3 and 5 percentage points of the popular vote to racism.

After Obama won, the longed-for post- racial moment did not arrive; on the contrary, racism intensified. At rallies for the nascent Tea Party, people held signs saying things like Obama Plans White Slavery. Steve King, an Iowa congressman and Tea Party favorite, complained that Obama “favors the black person.” In 2009, Rush Limbaugh, bard of white decline, called Obama’s presidency a time when “the white kids now get beat up, with the black kids cheering ‘Yeah, right on, right on, right on.’ And of course everybody says the white kid deserved it—he was born a racist, he’s white.” On Fox & Friends, Glenn Beck asserted that Obama had exposed himself as a guy “who has a deep-seated hatred for white people or the white culture … This guy is, I believe, a racist.” Beck later said he was wrong to call Obama a racist. That same week he also called the president’s health-care plan “reparations.”

One possible retort to this pattern of racial paranoia is to cite the Clinton years, when an ideological fever drove the right wing to derangement, inspiring militia movements and accusations that the president had conspired to murder his own lawyer, Vince Foster. The upshot, by this logic, is that Obama is experiencing run-of-the-mill political opposition in which race is but a minor factor among much larger ones, such as party affiliation. But the argument assumes that party affiliation itself is unconnected to race. It pretends that only Toni Morrison took note of Clinton’s particular appeal to black voters. It forgets that Clinton felt compelled to attack Sister Souljah. It forgets that whatever ignoble labels the right wing pinned on Clinton’s health-care plan, “reparations” did not rank among them.

Michael Tesler, following up on his research with David Sears on the role of race in the 2008 campaign, recently published a study assessing the impact of race on opposition to and support for health-care reform. The findings are bracing. Obama’s election effectively racialized white Americans’ views, even of health-care policy. As Tesler writes in a paper published in July in The American Journal of Political Science, “Racial attitudes had a significantly greater impact on health care opinions when framed as part of President Obama’s plan than they had when the exact same policies were attributed to President Clinton’s 1993 health care initiative.”

While Beck and Limbaugh have chosen direct racial assault, others choose simply to deny that a black president actually exists. One in four Americans (and more than half of all Republicans) believe Obama was not born in this country, and thus is an illegitimate president. More than a dozen state legislatures have introduced “birther bills” demanding proof of Obama’s citizenship as a condition for putting him on the 2012 ballot. Eighteen percent of Republicans believe Obama to be a Muslim. The goal of all this is to delegitimize Obama’s presidency. If Obama is not truly American, then America has still never had a black president.

White resentment has not cooled as the Obama presidency has proceeded. Indeed, the GOP presidential-primary race featured candidates asserting that the black family was better off under slavery (Michele Bachmann, Rick Santorum); claiming that Obama, as a black man, should oppose abortion (Santorum again); or denouncing Obama as a “food-stamp president” (Newt Gingrich).

The resentment is not confined to Republicans. Earlier this year, West Virginia gave 41 percent of the popular vote during the Democratic primary to Keith Judd, a white incarcerated felon (Judd actually defeated Obama in 10 counties). Joe Manchin, one of West Virginia’s senators, and Earl Ray Tomblin, its governor, are declining to attend this year’s Democratic convention, and will not commit to voting for Obama.

It is often claimed that Obama’s unpopularity in coal- dependent West Virginia stems from his environmental policies. But recall that no state ranked higher on Seth Stephens- Davidowitz’s racism scale than West Virginia. Moreover, Obama was unpopular in West Virginia before he became president: even at the tail end of the Democratic primaries in 2008, Hillary Clinton walloped Obama by 41 points. A fifth of West Virginia Democrats openly professed that race played a role in their vote.

What we are now witnessing is not some new and complicated expression of white racism—rather, it’s the dying embers of the same old racism that once rendered the best pickings of America the exclusive province of unblackness. Confronted by the thoroughly racialized backlash to Obama’s presidency, a stranger to American politics might conclude that Obama provoked the response by relentlessly pushing an agenda of radical racial reform. Hardly. Daniel Gillion, a political scientist at the University of Pennsylvania who studies race and politics, examined the Public Papers of the Presidents, a compilation of nearly all public presidential utterances— proclamations, news-conference remarks, executive orders—and found that in his first two years as president, Obama talked less about race than any other Democratic president since 1961. Obama’s racial strategy has been, if anything, the opposite of radical: he declines to use his bully pulpit to address racism, using it instead to engage in the time-honored tradition of black self-hectoring, railing against the perceived failings of black culture.

His approach is not new. It is the approach of Booker T. Washington, who, amid a sea of white terrorists during the era of Jim Crow, endorsed segregation and proclaimed the South to be a land of black opportunity. It is the approach of L. Douglas Wilder, who, in 1986, not long before he became Virginia’s first black governor, kept his distance from Jesse Jackson and told an NAACP audience: “Yes, dear Brutus, the fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves … Some blacks don’t particularly care for me to say these things, to speak to values … Somebody’s got to. We’ve been too excusing.” It was even, at times, the approach of Jesse Jackson himself, who railed against “the rising use of drugs, and babies making babies, and violence … cutting away our opportunity.”

The strategy can work. Booker T.’s Tuskegee University still stands. Wilder became the first black governor in America since Reconstruction. Jackson’s campaign moved the Democratic nominating process toward proportional allocation of delegates, a shift that Obama exploited in the 2008 Democratic primaries by staying competitive enough in big states to rack up delegates even where he was losing, and rolling up huge vote margins (and delegate-count victories) in smaller ones.

And yet what are we to make of an integration premised, first, on the entire black community’s emulating the Huxt ables? An equality that requires blacks to be twice as good is not equality—it’s a double standard. That double standard haunts and constrains the Obama presidency, warning him away from candor about America’s sordid birthmark.


Another political tradition in black America, running counter to the one publicly embraced by Obama and Booker T. Washington, casts its skepticism not simply upon black culture but upon the entire American project. This tradition stretches back to Frederick Douglass, who, in 1852, said of his native country, “There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States at this very hour.” It extends through Martin Delany, through Booker T.’s nemesis W. E. B. Du Bois, and through Malcolm X. It includes Martin Luther King Jr., who at the height of the Vietnam War called America “the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today.” And it includes Obama’s former pastor, he of the famous “God Damn America” sermon, Jeremiah Wright.

The Harvard Law professor Randall Kennedy, in his 2011 book, The Persistence of the Color Line: Racial Politics and the Obama Presidency, examines this tradition by looking at his own father and Reverend Wright in the context of black America’s sense of patriotism. Like Wright, the elder Kennedy was a veteran of the U.S. military, a man seared and radicalized by American racism, forever remade as a vociferous critic of his native country: in virtually any American conflict, Kennedy’s father rooted for the foreign country.

The deep skepticism about the American proj ect that Kennedy’s father and Reverend Wright evince is an old tradition in black America. Before Frederick Douglass worked, during the Civil War, for the preservation of the Union, he called for his country’s destruction. “I have no love for America,” he declaimed in a lecture to the American Anti-Slavery Society in 1847. “I have no patriotism … I desire to see [the government] overthrown as speedily as possible and its Constitution shivered in a thousand fragments.”

Kennedy notes that Douglass’s denunciations were the words of a man who not only had endured slavery but was living in a country where whites often selected the Fourth of July as a special day to prosecute a campaign of racial terror:

On July 4, 1805, whites in Philadelphia drove blacks out of the square facing Independence Hall. For years thereafter, blacks attended Fourth of July festivities in that city at their peril. On July 4, 1834, a white mob in New York City burned down the Broadway Tabernacle because of the antislavery and anti racist views of the church’s leaders. Firefighters in sympathy with the arsonists refused to douse the conflagration. On July 4, 1835, a white mob in Canaan, New Hampshire, destroyed a school open to blacks that was run by an abolitionist. The ante bellum years were liberally dotted with such episodes.

Jeremiah Wright was born into an America of segregation—overt in the South and covert in the North, but wounding wherever. He joined the Marines, vowing service to his country, at a time when he wouldn’t have been allowed to vote in some states. He built his ministry in a community reeling from decades of job and housing discrimination, and heaving under the weight of drugs, gun violence, and broken families. Wright’s world is emblematic of the African Americans he ministered to, people reared on the anti-black-citizenship tradition—poll taxes, states pushing stringent voter- ID laws—of Stephen Douglas and Andrew Johnson and William F. Buckley Jr. The message is “You are not American.” The countermessage—God damn America— is an old one, and is surprising only to people unfamiliar with the politics of black life in this country. Un fortunately, that is an apt description of large swaths of America.

Whatever the context for Wright’s speech, the surfacing of his remarks in 2008 was utterly inconvenient not just for the Obama campaign but for much of black America. One truism holds that black people are always anxious to talk about race, eager to lecture white people at every juncture about how wrong they are and about the price they must pay for past and ongoing sins. But one reason Obama rose so quickly was that African Americans are war-weary. It was not simply the country at large that was tired of the old Baby Boomer debates. Blacks, too, were sick of talking about affirmative action and school busing. There was a broad sense that integration had failed us, and a growing disenchantment with our appointed spokespeople. Obama’s primary triumphs in predominantly white states gave rise to rumors of a new peace, one many blacks were anxious to achieve.

And even those black Americans who embrace the tradition of God Damn America do so not with glee but with deep pain and anguish. Both Kennedy’s father and Wright were military men. My own father went to Vietnam dreaming of John Wayne, but came back quoting Malcolm X. The poet Lucille Clifton once put it succinctly:

They act like they don’t love their country
No
what it is
is they found out
their country don’t love them.
In 2008, as Obama’s election became imaginable, it seemed possible that our country had indeed, at long last, come to love us. We did not need our Jeremiah Wrights, our Jesse Jacksons, our products of the polarized ’60s getting in the way. Indeed, after distancing himself from Wright, Obama lost almost no black support.

Obama offered black America a convenient narrative that could be meshed with the larger American story. It was a narrative premised on Crispus Attucks, not the black slaves who escaped plantations and fought for the British; on the 54th Massachusetts, not Nat Turner; on stoic and saintly Rosa Parks, not young and pregnant Claudette Colvin; on a Christlike Martin Luther King Jr., not an avenging Malcolm X. Jeremiah Wright’s presence threatened to rupture that comfortable narrative by symbolizing that which makes integration impossible—black rage.

From the “inadequate black male” diatribe of the Hillary Clinton supporter Harriet Christian in 2008, to Rick Santelli’s 2009 rant on CNBC against subsidizing “losers’ mortgages,” to Representative Joe Wilson’s “You lie!” outburst during Obama’s September 2009 address to Congress, to John Boehner’s screaming “Hell no!” on the House floor about Obamacare in 2010, politicized rage has marked the opposition to Obama. But the rules of our racial politics require that Obama never respond in like fashion. So frightening is the prospect of black rage given voice and power that when Obama was a freshman senator, he was asked, on national television, to denounce the rage of Harry Belafonte. This fear continued with demands that he keep his distance from Louis Farrakhan and culminated with Reverend Wright and a presidency that must never betray any sign of rage toward its white opposition.

Thus the myth of “twice as good” that makes Barack Obama possible also smothers him. It holds that African Americans— enslaved, tortured, raped, discriminated against, and subjected to the most lethal homegrown terrorist movement in American history—feel no anger toward their tormentors. Of course, very little in our history argues that those who seek to tell bold truths about race will be rewarded. But it was Obama himself, as a presidential candidate in 2008, who called for such truths to be spoken. “Race is an issue that I believe this nation cannot afford to ignore right now,” he said in his “More Perfect Union” speech, which he delivered after a furor erupted over Reverend Wright’s “God Damn America” remarks. And yet, since taking office, Obama has virtually ignored race.

Whatever the political intelligence of this calculus, it has broad and deep consequences. The most obvious result is that it prevents Obama from directly addressing America’s racial history, or saying anything meaningful about present issues tinged by race, such as mass incarceration or the drug war. There have been calls for Obama to take a softer line on state-level legalization of marijuana or even to stand for legalization himself. Indeed, there is no small amount of in consistency in our black president’s either ignoring or upholding harsh drug laws that every day injure the prospects of young black men—laws that could have ended his own, had he been of another social class and arrested for the marijuana use he openly discusses. But the intellectual argument doubles as the counterargument. If the fact of a black president is enough to racialize the wonkish world of health-care reform, what havoc would the Obama touch wreak upon the already racialized world of drug policy?

What we are witnessing is not some new racism—it’s the dying embers of the same old racism that rendered the best pickings the province of unblackness.

The political consequences of race extend beyond the domestic. I am, like many liberals, horrified by Obama’s embrace of a secretive drone policy, and particularly the killing of American citizens without any restraints. A president aware of black America’s tenuous hold on citizenship, of how the government has at times secretly conspired against its advancement—a black president with a broad sense of the world—should know better. Except a black president with Obama’s past is the perfect target for right-wing attacks depicting him as weak on terrorism. The president’s inability to speak candidly on race cannot be bracketed off from his inability to speak candidly on every thing. Race is not simply a portion of the Obama story. It is the lens through which many Americans view all his politics.

But whatever the politics, a total submission to them is a disservice to the country. No one knows this better than Obama himself, who once described patriotism as more than pageantry and the scarfing of hot dogs. “When our laws, our leaders, or our government are out of alignment with our ideals, then the dissent of ordinary Americans may prove to be one of the truest expressions of patriotism,” Obama said in Independence, Missouri, in June 2008. Love of country, like all other forms of love, requires that you tell those you care about not simply what they want to hear but what they need to hear.

But in the age of the Obama presidency, expressing that kind of patriotism is presumably best done quietly, politely, and with great deference.

This spring I flew down to Albany, Georgia, and spent the day with Shirley Sherrod, a longtime civil-rights activist who embodies exactly the kind of patriotism that Obama esteems. Albany is in Dougherty County, where the poverty rate hangs around 30 percent—double that of the rest of the state. On the drive in from the airport, the selection of vendors— payday loans, title loans, and car dealers promising no credit check—evidenced the statistic.

When I met Sherrod at her office, she was working to get a birthday card out to Roger Spooner, whose farm she’d once fought to save. In July 2010, the conservative commentator Andrew Breitbart posted video clips on his Web site of a speech Sherrod had delivered to the NAACP the previous March. The video was edited so that Sherrod, then an official at the U.S. Department of Agriculture, appeared to be bragging about discriminating against a white farmer and thus enacting a fantasy of racial revenge. The point was to tie Obama to the kind of black rage his fevered enemies often impute to him. Fearing exactly that, Sherrod’s supervisors at the USDA called her in the middle of a long drive and had her submit her resignation via BlackBerry, telling her, “You’re going to be on Glenn Beck tonight.”

Glenn Beck did eventually do a segment on Sherrod—one in which he attacked the administration for forcing her out. As it turned out, the full context showed that Sherrod was actually documenting her own turn away from racial anger. The farmer who was the subject of the story came forward, along with his wife, and explained that Sherrod had worked tirelessly to help the family. The farmer was Roger Spooner.

Sherrod’s career as an activist, first in civil rights and then later in the world of small farmers like Roger Spooner, was not chosen so much as thrust upon her. Her cousin had been lynched in 1943. Her father was shot and killed by a white relative in a dispute over some cows. There were three witnesses, but the grand jury in her native Baker County did not indict the suspect. Sherrod became an activist with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, registering voters near her hometown. Her husband, Charles Sherrod, was instrumental in leading the Albany Movement, which attracted Martin Luther King Jr. to town. But when Stokely Carmichael rose to lead SNCC and took it in a black-nationalist direction, the Sherrods, committed to non violence and integration, faced a weighty choice. Car michael himself had been committed to nonviolence, until the killings and beatings he encountered as a civil-rights activist took their toll. Sherrod, with a past haunted by racist violence, would have seemed ripe for recruitment to the nationalist line. But she, along with her husband, declined, leaving SNCC in order to continue in the tradition of King and nonviolence.

Her achievements from then on are significant. She helped pioneer the farm- collective movement in America, and co-founded New Communities—a sprawling 6,000-acre collective that did everything from growing crops to canning sugar cane and sorghum. New Communities folded in 1985, largely because Ronald Reagan’s USDA refused to sign off on a loan, even as it was signing off on money for smaller-scale white farmers. Sherrod went on to work with Farm Aid. She befriended Willie Nelson, held a fellowship with the Kellogg Foundation, and was shortlisted for a job in President Clinton’s Agriculture Department. Still, she remained relatively unknown except to students of the civil-rights movement and activists who promoted the rights of small farmers. And unknown she would have remained, had she not been very publicly forced out of her position by the administration of the country’s first black president.

Through most of her career as an agriculture activist, Sherrod had found the USDA to be a barrier to the success of black farmers. What hurt black farms the most were the discriminatory practices of local officials in granting loans. Sherrod spent years protesting these practices. But then, after the election of Barack Obama, she was hired by the USDA, where she would be supervising the very people she’d once fought. Now she would have a chance to ensure fair and nondiscriminatory lending practices. Her appoint ment represented the kind of unnoticed but significant changes Obama’s election brought.

But then the administration, intimidated by a resurgent right wing specializing in whipping up racial resentment, compelled Sherrod to resign on the basis of the misleading clips. When the full tape emerged, the administration was left looking ridiculous.

And cowardly. An e-mail chain later surfaced in which the White House congratulated Agriculture Secretary Tom Vilsack’s staff for getting ahead of the news cycle. None of them had yet seen the full tape. That the Obama administration would fold so easily gives some sense of how frightened it was of a protracted fight with any kind of racial subtext, particularly one that had a subtext of black rage. Its enemies under stood this, and when no black rage could be found, they concocted some. And the administration, in a panic, knuckled under.

Violence at the hands of whites robbed Shirley Sherrod of a cousin and a father. White rage outlined the substantive rules of her life: Don’t quarrel with white people. Don’t look them in the eye. Avoid Route 91 after dark. White racism destroyed New Communities, a fact validated by the nearly $13 million the organization received in the class-action suit it joined alleging racial discrimination by the local USDA officials granting loan applications. (Which means that her being forced out by Vilsack was the second time the USDA had wronged her directly.) And yet through it all, Sherrod has hewed to the rule of “twice as good.” She has preached nonviolence and integration. The very video that led to her dismissal was of a speech aimed at black people, warning them against the dangers of succumbing to rage.

Acceptance depends not just on being twice as good but on being half as black. The community in which Obama is rooted sees this fraudulent equality and seethes.
Driving down a sparse country road, Sherrod and I pulled over to a grassy footpath and stepped out at the spot where her father had been shot and killed in 1965. We then drove a few miles into Newton, and stopped at a large brick building that used to be the courthouse where Sherrod had tried to register to vote a few months after her father’s death but had been violently turned back by the sheriff; where a year later Sherrod’s mother pursued a civil case against her husband’s killer. (She lost.) For this, Sherrod’s mother enjoyed routine visits from white terror ists, which abated only after she, pregnant with her dead husband’s son, appeared in the doorway with a gun and began calling out names of men in the mob.

When we got back into the car, I asked Sherrod why she hadn’t given in to rage against her father’s killers and sided with Stokely Car michael. “It was simple for me,” she said. “I really wanted to work. I wanted to win.”

I asked Sherrod if she thought the president had a grasp of the specific history of the region and of the fights waged and the sacrifices made in order to make his political journey possible. “I don’t think he does,” Sherrod said. “When he called me [shortly after the incident], he kept saying he understood our struggle and all we’d fought for. He said, ‘Read my book and you’ll see.’ But I had read his book.”

In 2009, Sergeant James Crowley arrested Henry Louis Gates Jr., the eminent professor of African American studies at Harvard, at his front door in Cambridge, for, essentially, sassing him. When President Obama publicly asserted the stupidity of Crowley’s action, he was so besieged that the controversy threatened to derail what he hoped would be his signature achievement—health-care reform. Obama, an African American male who had risen through the ranks of the American elite, was no doubt sensitive to untoward treatment at the hands of the police. But his expounding upon it so provoked right-wing rage that he was forced away from doing the kind of truth-telling he’d once lauded. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Obama said at the time, “but nobody’s been paying much attention to health care.”

Shirley Sherrod has worked all her life to make a world where the rise of a black president born of a biracial marriage is both conceivable and legal. She has endured the killing of relatives, the ruination of enterprises, and the defaming of her reputation. Crowley, for his actions, was feted in the halls of American power, honored by being invited to a “beer summit” with the man he had arrested and the leader of the free world. Shirley Sherrod, unjustly fired and defamed, was treated to a brief phone call from a man whose career, in some profound way, she had made possible. Sherrod herself is not immune to this point. She talked to me about crying with her husband while watching Obama’s Election Night speech. In her new memoir, The Courage to Hope, she writes about a different kind of tears: when she discussed her firing with her family, her mother, who’d spent her life facing down racism at its most lethal, simply wept. “What will my babies say?,” Sherrod cried to her husband, referring to their four small granddaughters. “How can I explain to my children that I got fired by the first black president?”


In 2000, an undercover police officer followed a young man named Prince Jones from suburban Maryland through Washington, D.C., into Northern Virginia and shot him dead, near the home of his girlfriend and 11-month-old daughter. Jones was a student at Howard University. His mother was a radiologist. He was also my friend. The officer tracking Prince thought he was on the trail of a drug dealer. But the dealer he was after was short and wore dreadlocks—Prince was tall and wore his hair cropped close. The officer was black. He wore dreadlocks and a T-shirt, in an attempt to look like a drug dealer. The ruse likely worked. He claimed that after Prince got out of his car and confronted him, he drew his gun and said “Police”; Prince returned to his car and repeatedly rammed the officer’s unmarked car with his own vehicle. The story sounded wildly at odds with the young man I knew. But even if it was accurate, I could easily see myself frightened by a strange car following me for miles, and then reacting wildly when a man in civilian clothes pulled out a gun and claimed to be a cop. (The officer never showed a badge.)

No criminal charges were ever brought against Carlton Jones, the officer who killed my friend and rendered a little girl fatherless. It was as if society barely blinked. A few months later, I moved to New York. When 9/11 happened, I wanted nothing to do with any kind of patriotism, with the broad national ceremony of mourning. I had no sympathy for the fire fighters, and something bordering on hatred for the police officers who had died. I lived in a country where my friend—twice as good—could be shot down mere footsteps from his family by agents of the state. God damn America, indeed.

I grew. I became a New Yorker. I came to understand the limits of anger. Watching Barack Obama crisscross the country to roaring white crowds, and then get elected president, I became convinced that the country really had changed—that time and events had altered the nation, and that progress had come in places I’d never imagined it could. When Osama bin Laden was killed, I cheered like everyone else. God damn al‑Qaeda.

When trans-partisan mourning erupted around Trayvon Martin, it reinforced my conviction that the world had changed since the death of Prince Jones. Like Prince, Trayvon was suspected of being a criminal chiefly because of the color of his skin. Like Prince’s, Trayvon’s killer claimed self-defense. Again, with little effort, I could see myself in the shoes of the dead man. But this time, society’s response seemed so very different, so much more heartening.

Then the first black president spoke, and the Internet bloomed. Young people began “Trayvoning”—mocking the death of a black boy by photographing themselves in hoodies, with Skittles and iced tea, in a death pose.

In a democracy, so the saying goes, the people get the government they deserve. Part of Obama’s genius is a remarkable ability to soothe race consciousness among whites. Any black person who’s worked in the professional world is well acquainted with this trick. But never has it been practiced at such a high level, and never have its limits been so obviously exposed. This need to talk in dulcet tones, to never be angry regardless of the offense, bespeaks a strange and compromised integration indeed, revealing a country so infantile that it can countenance white acceptance of blacks only when they meet an Al Roker standard.

And yet this is the uncertain foundation of Obama’s historic victory—a victory that I, and my community, hold in the highest esteem. Who would truly deny the possibility of a black presidency in all its power and symbolism? Who would rob that little black boy of the right to feel himself affirmed by touching the kinky black hair of his president?

I think back to the first time I wrote Shirley Sherrod, requesting an interview. Here was a black woman with every reason in the world to bear considerable animosity toward Barack Obama. But she agreed to meet me only with great trepidation. She said she didn’t “want to do anything to hurt” the president.



http://www.huffingtonpost.com/peter-s-goodman/obama-racism_b_1827981.html


For Obama, Racism Comes From Supporters As Well As Opponents
8/24/2012
by Peter Goodman
Huffington Post


Ta-Nehisi Coates, one of our most incisive contemporary voices on race, has done a great public service with his latest offering in The Atlantic, a powerful exploration of the racial fault lines that President Barack Obama must perpetually negotiate, limiting his potency on a range of crucial issues.


In Coates' telling, Obama -- himself a gifted thinker on race -- has been rendered mute on the subject through a tacit bargain with white America, forged as the price of admission to the White House: He could become the nation's first black president provided that his blackness was an incidental feature of his identity, and provided that he avoided striking the posture of the angry black man whose image still fills the uneasy imaginations of many white Americans.

"Barack Obama governs a nation enlightened enough to send an African American to the White House," Coates writes, "but not enlightened enough to accept a black man as its president."

Coates' essay is primarily concerned with revealing the racist conceptions that are deeply intertwined in the political opposition to Obama. He lays bare the roots of anti-black racism that were a defining feature of American democracy at its inception, and have remained in various guises ever since. His piece makes a convincing case that Obama bears an unfair burden to be "twice as good," while eschewing uncomfortable talk about race. This has constrained his ability to discuss and address racial injustice in the prosecution of drug crimes, incarceration, housing policy and job opportunities, to pick merely the most obvious examples.

"Politicized rage has marked the opposition to Obama," Coates asserts. "But the rules of our racial politics require that Obama never respond in like fashion," yielding "a presidency that must never betray any sign of rage toward its white opposition."

In short, Coates is pulling back the curtains on Obama's natural opponents -- white Americans steeped in the notion that the country is inherently white, and attached to white privilege, the sort of people you might find in the Tea Party or challenging Obama's American citizenship. But as I read his piece, I found myself thinking about another group of white Americans that has stuck Obama with an unfair, race-based double standard. Not those who oppose him, but self-identified progressives who once celebrated him with abandon.

For these white Americans, Obama's ascendance was both a sign that their America was a better place than they had previously imagined, enabling an unfamiliar feeling of patriotism that has generally been off-limits to those who decry slavery, Jim Crow, the incarceration rates of young African American men, the Trayvon Martin shooting, and the continued stop-and-frisk policies on the streets of New York.

Here was Obama, enabling progressive white people to revel in a landmark in racial enlightenment, one in which the achieving was being done by white Americans as much as black Americans. We white people could feel a little less lousy about our role in both history and present.

But something else was at work, too, in this white celebration of Obama, a mostly positive racial stereotype of black men yet a stereotype nonetheless: Here was an African American politician who would rectify injustice and champion the cause of equality. Obama would stick it to the man.

"Racism is not merely a simplistic hatred," Coates writes. "It is, more often, broad sympathy toward some and broader skepticism toward others."

Among some white progressives, Obama was endowed with "broad sympathy" that stuck him with a certain imagined historical responsibility. This black man powerful enough and inspiring enough to take the White House provoked thoughts of militancy and radicalism -- a kind of positive spin on the fearful composite of black rage that Coates describes as resident in white American consciousness.

And when it turned out that Obama was not into playing that role -- he would not be the sort of black president imagined by white guys who congratulate themselves for reading the collected works of Malcolm X., listening to John Coltrane and Jay-Z, getting the inner meaning of Dave Chappelle, and appreciating the films of Spike Lee -- some white progressives turned on him. Not merely for his policies, which were fair game, but for his failure to be the sort of black man they thought they had elected.

I first became aware of this when people I knew -- people with advanced degrees and influential jobs -- began casually tossing around the term "Uncle Tom," to describe Obama, as we decried his bank friendly economic policies and his seemingly naïve efforts to forge consensus with the Republicans.

One might have said that Obama was a shill for high finance, a charge that could be applied to any politician regardless of race. One might have questioned Obama's manhood, using some metaphor of weakness, which would have been unfortunate, but at least applicable to half the population. But, no, he was an Uncle Tom, a metaphor that involved calling the president a house slave.

Coates demonstrates how Obama bears the double standard of having to be more civil than white politicians while avoiding tripping the alarms of white Americans not fully at peace with the idea of a black man living down the street, let alone at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. In this crowd, Obama gets to be president so long as he manages to be not so black.

But these white progressives I have in mind add another unfortunate layer of unfairness. They are annoyed with Obama not merely because of his policy choices, but because, in their view, he isn't black enough -- or at least, not black in the sort of in your face way they had hoped for.

That's a lot of stuff for any human being to have to take on in the course of any job, let alone a job as demanding as the presidency.





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