Pundit

It must be nice up there.  It must be nice to be able to look wryly at our cultural missteps and loosely identified foibles and chuckle.  It must be nice to say (from afar) “gosh, that one sure got the short end of the stick…ah, ah, ah, ah, ah…”

Yes, lawdy, it must be nice to sit up there with your degree and your opportunity and maybe even your own story of overcoming adversity and poke fun at po’ l’il Mississippi.  The only problem is that there is nothing nice about this:

Mississippi has the highest rate of obesity at 35.3% of total population … and ranks last in the most number of categories. These include highest rate of child poverty at 31.9%, highest rate of infant mortality at 10.3% lowest median household income at $35,078, highest teen birth rate at 71.9 per 1,000 women aged 15 to 19 and highest overall rate of STDs. Phew. (Policymic/ What’s the Most Screwed Up Thing…/ Chris Miles/ http://www.policymic.com/articles/64665/what-is-the-most-screwed-up-thing-about-your-state-check-this-chart)

When it is so closely tied to this:

Mississippi’s Black population was 1,111,856 in 2011 according to the U.S. Census Bureau. The actual percentage of African Americans in Mississippi was 37% which makes it the largest percent of African Americans of any state in the country.(Blackdemographics.com/ http://blackdemographics.com/states/mississippi/)

What’s a pundit to do? For one thing a pundit could acknowledge that taking pot shots at serious failings in our culture is a dicey business.

It is clear from Chris Miles’ piece, “What’s the Most Screwed Up Thing About Your State” that we spend too much time with our tongues in our cheeks.  It is impossible to speak clearly and you will surely bite your tongue.  I think it is unfortunate that he didn’t include that Mississippi often ranks lowest or next to the lowest in education (Huffington Post/ 2011.) But maybe that would be just putting insult to injury.

I am not saying that its not okay to be funny; that is what social commentators do sometimes.  But this might just be a bit like making that tired joke about Asian drivers without being Asian.  Humor is something that is born out of some degree of truth; the best comics in the world will tell you that the biggest laugh is when you are genuine and authentic with your material and with your delivery.  But there is something brittle and a bit haughty about this piece.  I imagine people who work in cubicles reading this over their first morning coffee and having a laugh because they come from Ohio or Utah…or they had a significantly longer commute getting to Manhattan than 30 minutes.  However, I was once told by a comic that the best barometer of humor is whether or not you could tell the joke to the person who is the butt of that joke and they would still laugh.  Somehow, I don’t think Mississippi would be laughing at this at all.

History

First Lady Michelle Obama meets with campaign supporters   - VA
Michelle Obama recently traced her white ancestry…

This post is part of a series this week that will honor the 50th Anniversary of the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, August 28, 1963.

– For Kimberlee – 

So the other day, a young black friend of mine posted on her facebook about being African American.  She had been asked “what African?” and of course she doesn’t know what the “African” part was because, as she said, well, she’s African American and we basically don’t have any history of our “African” ancestry.  It got me thinking…it is very, very true.  Many people have been oppressed throughout the history of America (both North and South) and particularly in the history of the United States.  The particular brand of colonialism that gave birth to our nation was pretty much all about standing on the backs of whoever was handy.  But in that history, only Africans were sytematically separated from their history and culture by the oppressing majority.  The Irish immigrants were scoffed at and beaten but were allowed education; the Jews were ghettoized and restricted in their movements but continued to practice their faith; Native Americans were outright slaughtered but they fought to the death maintaining their cultural beliefs and practices.  But Africans were denied their language, their religion, their customs.  In fact Africans were stripped of nearly everything except their usefulness as labor.  Referred to as soulless heathens by white society, the accepted concept of the African slave was that they were brutish blank slates and any “culture” they possessed was worthless.  The result of this is that today, those of us who can identify as “African” American have no idea what that actually means.  We carry the pigment and other physical characteristics, but we are absent of that original culture.

So what does that leave us?

On one level it leaves us with young black people who grew up in this world with no sense of belonging or feeling as if they had something great to aspire to that belongs to them; they’ve assumed that they will always be “the other” and vilified; their only future is in what they “take” from society that is made for and by “the man.”   They live on the margins of society with maybe a glimpse here and there of something called success, only to see it taken away or held just out of reach.

But maybe there’s another way to look at it…

When our “African” history was obscured, and when we were raped and shuffled around and traded like so much grain, true to anything as resilient and old as the human race, we were still fertile…so fertile that even in a place with no soil and no nutrients, we grew.  We grew not just in terms of finding and equaling our education, not just in terms of flourishing creatively, not just in terms of discovering our political and communal strength, not just in terms of evolving spiritually.  We grew as a brand new and unique race with a unique set of potentials that is still waiting for us to acknowledge.  Like jazz music, we were a blend of everything we carried in our genetic code, plus all of the hardship and obstacles put in our way.  Eventually, we had to ignite.  We are not just “African” Americans, we are Native, Irish, German, Spanish, Asian…and we are the only ones who can truly lay claim to being all of those things…the embodiment of the melting pot.  We are the worst nightmare of colonial European cultures that prided themselves on racial “purity”…we are the combination of all of the strongest parts of all of the cultures that have mixed here in the United States; and we are irrepressible.

I had a lovely conversation with a friend recently where we were talking about potential.  We were discussing how some people can look at someone based on one world view and see them as a “waste” of potential.  On the contrary, potential is never wasted.  Potential is a well that is always ready to use.  Each time you access any part of that potential…any time you dip into that unfathomable reservoir of ability, you will pull out something that is far beyond what those with less potential are capable of achieving.  Whether it is Nobel Prize winning diplomacy or cooking dinner.  This is how I view the black American; a people who contain the richness of many cultures, visible in skin and facial features, but also language, faith, creativity, aptitude and a host of unmeasurable gifts.  These aren’t wasted.  They are present and ready to use at any moment in time.  It is simply up to more young black Americans to use them.

The different and distinct cultures that people lift up and identify with so strongly are beautiful and deserve their spectacular place in our modern society; but so does the melting pot “African” American. So to Kimberlee, I say, yes, you may have no idea where your “African” really comes from, but you have something that is completely unique.  Think of yourself as the “Jazz American.”  You can swing and waltz; you can paint and calculate; you are mother and father, child and parent.  You are the dynamic blending of all of cultures that are gathered here as one.  You more than anyone, own this American experience and with it you can change the world.