Black Daddy Defined?
Friday morning, someone in my twitter stream retweeted a blog post which was written in reaction to a post which has since been taken down. I read it and was all set to comment, but my comment was a little long and I didn’t want to hijack the post by putting up a somewhat lengthy commentary so I thought I’d post up here. Let me preface this post with this…I’ve grown up in and worked now, all my adult life, in a business in which I have often been one of only a few black people. I remember going to the Emmy’s with my family when I was still in high school and looking around and seeing only two or three other black folk; forget about seeing other black families. Being around people who have a different cultural perspective than my own is nothing new to me and, given my educational background, I tend to look at things more from a psychological and anthropological bent when I see acts that people often fly off the handle and throw the race card at. In other words, I process head first then heart…generally. I guess what I’m trying to say is that my feathers aren’t easily ruffled when it comes to dealing with ignorance, especially when I’ve often found myself having to be the “spokesman for the black American experience” when major things go down. Man, did those months dealing with folks during the OJ case (both of them) grate on me! But I digress. On to the purpose of this post.
I’m going to do the rarely seen, double quote here and quote the post which pointed me to the original post since that one was taken down before I could write my post, or take a screenshot:
Witness this blog post, written by a mom who got all freaked out when her son struck up an afternoon playground friendship with the son of a man she surmised was a “gang member”:
“How did you KNOW he was a gang member?” I can hear you asking from behind your computer monitor. I’ll admit, I’m not exactly up on my “Signs Your Child’s Friend’s Dad Is A Gang Member” literature. Let’s just say it seemed likely. There was the prison number tattooed on his neck, for example. And the cryptic, graffiti-like tattoos all over his arms. And the white tank top. And the baggy jeans. And the bandana. And the unlaced shoes. And the baseball cap worn sideways. If he wasn’t a gang member, he definitely wanted people to think he was.
The writer goes on to chronicle how, even though the “gang member” tried to strike up a conversation with her—you know, what normal human beings tend to do when other human beings are around and the kids are playing together—her side of the talking stalled because she wasn’t “well-versed in gang member icebreakers” and she couldn’t think of anything to say to him beyond, “When’s the little guy’s initiation?”
Later, when the two scooped up their sons and tossed each other a “see ya,” the blogger considers telling the “gang member” how much she enjoyed the gang movie Colors, and silently wishes she had a camera to document the occasion so that years later, she could reminisce with her son about “that gang member” who pushed him on the swing. “Such a nice gang member…” she imagined she would say to her son as they flipped through their scrapbook of memories.
Ok, let’s see…..
Tats? Check.
Baggy pants? Check.
Ball cap, tilted? Check.
Tank top? Meh, I need to lose a little weight….otherwise: check.
Gang affiliation? No.
The original post did indeed rub me the wrong way. Maybe it’s because I’m 6′ 240lbs and have had to endure people saying to me, “Oh, I was so intimidated by you at first…until we spoke. You’re so well spoken and such a nice guy.” To her credit, the original author states that she wrote the post in jest and was merely channeling, for her reading audience, the musings of the typical Caucasian suburban mom. The tough part to that is when you put it out there to a bunch of folks who are themselves, writers, you tend to get folk who will take and pick apart your post for things like subtext. I hope that she wrote the post as she said she did and seeing as how I don’t know her from Adam I can’t comment on her motives, but what I can say is that in either case, I wasn’t surprised at her point of view of the people around her. I’ve worked with people who when they let their guard down have made similar comments within earshot. But that’s often to be expected when you have individuals in broadcast who’ve grown up in very affluent neighborhoods, often covering events happening in very poor neighborhoods….a lack of understanding. And the inability (to varying degrees) to discern one set of individuals from one subset of a culture from those of another subset.
As a man with a penchant for all things sociology and anthropology, I often give people the benefit of the doubt because humans are terribly fussy when it comes to relating to anything that doesn’t look like themselves. Maybe it’s the byproduct of some evolutionary trait that kept our progenitors from being attacked by neighboring tribes. I tend to think of prejudice and classism as being on a continuum where we don’t ask ourselves if we’re prejudiced, but ask how much prejudice do we each hold in our hearts.
For me, this post is just another marker on the road I can point to every time someone says that we’re so evolved as a species. The days of everyone looking alike in a suit and Fedora are long gone. A man like me who fits a certain mold, judged by phenotype, but has formal education in psychology and neuroscience…has the IQ, but no fancy letters following his surname, a man like me is often relegated to “the outside” because we allow the media and the microcosm of our own experience to control our perception of our neighbor rather than moving, albeit cautiously, outside our comfort zone. There are many men who are enculturated by inner city norms but are powerfully passionate fathers, talented artisans and deep thinkers but you’ll never know them, or that because they look like gang members. For me, I’m glad I’ve been on the outside because it’s given me great insight into all those who speak from their manicured lawns, from behind the picket fences of their suburban psyche. To be fair to the woman in the story (whether real or “channeled”), I can’t say that I blame her for being cautious around someone who fits the M.O. of “gang member” by society’s standards. I can empathize with her fear of the unfamiliar, even through my own distaste of her handling of it.
My question out of all of this is this: How would she have us look? Is it that those who represent a hip hop type of look and are persons of color should move more toward the “mainstream” in appearance? Afterall, suburban white kids have always been the largest purchasing demographic of the music and culture spawned from the minority so I would actually say that the “mainstream” has move more toward the subculture. The problem with this that I’ve seen with my own eyes is that if you take a man who is clearly Caucasian and place him in that same situation, his phenotype (again, in my experience) tends to be a calming agent where the red flags seem to go off a little less. Having worked in entertainment all of my life, I’ve seen this happen as well. White guys with tats are either “bad boys,” artsy or at worst, sketchy individuals to be watched with caution. Latinos or black guys with the same visage are intimidating, dangerous and should be kept at arms length. There are going to be those who may wonder why I would answer such a post with my own and maybe even think I have a chip on my shoulder. You’re right. I do have a chip. The chip is just one of many from a tasty bag of “American Denial.” Not that other bag, “Angry Black Man.” I don’t care much for Obama, but I was so excited that he got elected because I know for a fact that there is so much division in this country still and I was hoping that having a person of color in office would bring it more to the fore and that we would actually be forced to deal with it in a positive fashion. Everyday though, I’m seeing more and more evidence that this doesn’t appear to be happening. It would appear that his Preisdency is only serving to further divide this nation, more deeply polarizing AMERICANS along ethnic lines and socio-economic position. It’s sad and pathetic really.
Now, this all went down from the mom blog perspective and was about moms at the playground. Dads, can you chime in and share your experiences on the playground? Have you experienced a “good ol’ boys club” at the playground, or some similar type of feeling of being on the outside based on your appearance (no matter your ethnicity)?
To the blogger who wrote the original post, I hope that if we’re ever at the same conference, you’ll say “hi.” I promise I won’t try to recruit your child (as she joked about the “gang member” potentially doing in the post which was taken down). Just stimulating conversation where we can discuss the state of the blogosphere, the year of the daddy blogger, String Theory, the Nutcracker, real hip hop, and anything else that may be on your mind. No “gang member ice breakers” necessary.
As a side note: Jest is often the social lubricant which allows us to discuss uncomfortable truths openly with an audience (IOW, truth is often spoken in jest). Also, so no one thinks I’m taking anything out of context, the entirety of the original post can be seen in the comments section of the post I quoted, toward the end of the comments.
To reiterate my response to your comment in my post, it’s important to note that the gang member in the post I wrote was not black, nor did I ever say that he was. In fact, I was very careful to make sure the post was race-free.
Also, in an effort to not identify which gang he was affiliated with for obvious reasons, I went online and looked up one of those “Signs your child might be in a gang” checklists. The things I used were straight from the checklist. Should they be? It’s a good question- one I encourage you to take up with police departments and crime watchdog groups across the country, because many of them are distributing those lists to parents.
I thought it was interesting that some of my white readers were upset in reading the post because they were reading “Black Man” for “gang member”. I thought it was valuable to point out to them that there was no reference to race in the post, and I hoped they would privately consider why they assumed the gang member was black.
However, when women of color read the post and did the same, I took the post down out of respect to them, and, as I wrote, out of respect to online relationships between moms. I like writing occasional posts that make people think. I try to do it in a satirical way. I’m not, however, interested in flame wars or name calling, and when it got to that point, honestly I felt the right thing to do as a person who cares about others’ feelings was to take it down.
Would I let my child play with yours at the playground in real life? Hell yes. So would most white moms. The ones who wouldn’t are, I’m guessing, the very same ones who wrinkle their noses at me on the playground, because they don’t recognize me from Junior League or their fashionable church preschool. I actually love the playground that I referenced in the post because I never know who I’m going to get to know each week.
Thank you for your time and your comment Lindsay. I hope I was fair in addressing your post and the subsequent post from the other blogger. I really wanted to address the issues and hope that I made it clear that I don’t know you and can’t hope to guess your motives so my take on that part was neutral.
Should there be a gang member checklist, or “profile?” That’s a very good question. We have profiles (or M.O.s) for serial killers, pedophiles, batterers, so why not gang members, right? I think the idea, in and of itself, is a good one but the problem is objectivity and understanding.
That’s why I hate the word “tolerance” when it comes to ethnic relations. We tolerate things we don’t like. I prefer that people seek to understand our differences rather than tolerate them. I tolerate leaf blowers because I want my home to have great curb appeal, though I can’t stand them and their noise. I tolerate traffic on the 405 because it’s the main route to my day job, though when its bad it’s like sitting in the 5th circle of hell. Should we really be aspiring to tolerate our differences? I’ll be dealing with that in another post. Hope you will check back from time to time and comment then as well.
“That’s why I hate the word “tolerance” when it comes to ethnic relations. We tolerate things we don’t like. I prefer that people seek to understand our differences rather than tolerate them.”
Same can be said about “tolerating” differences such as Autism, Deafness, Down Syndrome, and the wide array of disabilities prevalent in society today. Tolerance is not good enough!
“Should we really be aspiring to tolerate our differences?”
No!
Yes, we are human and we will probably always notice the differences, point them out & discuss them… but it would be best to CELEBRATE THEM… and for goodness sake, accept everyone as an INDIVIDUAL HUMAN BEING!
*steps down of soapbox*
Thank you for your comment. I’m glad we see eye to eye on the tolerance perspective. I wholly agree with you about dealing with those who have a disability.
You go on ahead and stay on that soapbox! 😉
Excellent comment Renee. I was going to make a similar comment but I couldn’t have said it any better.
Nice post Tshaka.
Thanks Chris. 🙂
Thank you for the thoughtful post and adding to a HEALTHY discussion on the issue at hand. I love that you reference anthropology when you discuss watching, talking to and discovering people who do not look/think/act like you. Because it means you’re actually taking the time to dig beneath the layers and study the belly before you come to conclusions.
I wrote my post because, no matter how many different ways Lindsay said it was satire, the judgment passed all up and through the words felt way too familiar. In my 42 years on this Earth, I’ve run into some doosies—been called the nanny, the maid, a nigger, a bitch. For no other reason than because I breathe. I don’t let these circumstances define me, by any stretch. But they are a part of the ingredients list that makes me who I am—the kind of mother, wife, friend, woman, and yes, enemy I am. And so when I read posts like the one Lindsay wrote, I have no other choice but to respond. I feel like it’s my duty, really.
Lindsay takes great pains to say that she purposely didn’t mention the man’s race in the post. Yet, every stereotype foisted on people of color (whether black, Latino, Caribbean, African, etc.) rang like a crystal bell throughout the piece: “pregnant teenagers” texting while their 3-year-olds “ran amok.” The usage of the Snoop Dogg word, “shizzle.” The blaring of “rap music that makes my ears bleed.” The father threatening to “woop” his child’s “ass.” Tats. Sagging pants. Hat cocked to the side. I’m sorry, but you can’t toss out those “clues” and then call everyone else wrong for drawing conclusions. From this side of the fence, that smacks of naivete. (I’d like to note that I didn’t mention the gang member’s race in my post, either. Instead, I called him a “person of color,” because I did recognize that she never said his race.) Really, his color, to me, was inconsequential; the painful part was that a white suburban mom thought it funny to stereotype a man, assign all kinds of negative imagery to his person and assassinate his character in jest—at a time when moms like me, black moms, live in constant fear that our sons will be attacked for just being, whether they’re wearing an outfit that someone’s decided is synonymous with gang members or an expensive Brooks Brothers suit.)
I do think that this is worth further exploration:
Would I let my child play with yours at the playground in real life? Hell yes. So would most white moms. The ones who wouldn’t are, I’m guessing, the very same ones who wrinkle their noses at me on the playground, because they don’t recognize me from Junior League or their fashionable church preschool…
Why is this worth talking about? Because I’m willing to admit that maybe some of the crap I’ve faced on the playground is more about snob/class than it is race. But then, I’m pretty fluent in both snob and racism, and I can tell you for sure that when it comes to African American moms, they’re pretty much one in the same.
As I noted in the comment section, Lindsay apologized and I graciously accepted; I also appreciated her removing the post. I appreciate you, too, TShaka, for adding your voice to this very healthy debate.
Thank you Denee. I actually love having taboo conversations so anytime I can jump in on one I try to make the time to do so. I think it unfortunate that in our society, it is common practice to avoid discussions on “race,” and religion when those are some of the most divisive aspects of American culture. We NEED to have these discussions out in the open.
Just like someone who is co-dependent, or an alcoholic, nothing comes of staying away from the issues and it is only be addressing and redressing the issues until we’re all more comfortable about dealing with them that anything is going to change in this country.
Thank you for a great post. I can not say anything about the original post because I didn’t read it, but wanted to thank you and Denene for bringing this discussion up.
I come from very homogeneous demographic, but was taught to respect and treat everyone the same (yes, very Christian background for coming from a country with a state church). I love the diversity in the US (and I am not really talking about race, but also religion, believes, culture..), but at the same time have had really hard time understanding why there is so little tolerance.
My children go to school, where our Caucasian European-American family is in minority, and I love it. I love that my children are learning different aspects of American culture from their friends.
I think the issue is that, growing up here, people take our diversity for granted and often don’t know much more about their neighbor than the media tells them. Then there’s that word, “neighbor.” Equally unfortunate is that in many cases it doesn’t hold the same meaning and value as a generation or two ago. We’re all so busy with our day to day lives that many people barely know their neighbors.
Thank you for engaging with us here and sharing your story Katja!
You’re spot on with this – though I get the other end of the spectrum…the happy bewilderment. I’m not a circus act, just a dad with his daughter outside. I somehow don’t intimidate folks very easily.
Lol. Not intimidating folks easily is a great thing. Being approachable never hurts…except on those days when we don’t feel like being bothered. 😉
I’m thrilled by the conversation. It’s fresh, it’s open, and it airs out grievances.
We need a lot more of this in our country. In our world. It’s so scary.
The current climate is so vitriolic and violent that hearing rational people discuss their differences in order to sort them out, and write about them to make points clear, is a kind of banner waving in the sky, saying,
“Look! There’s still sanity here. We can work things out, if we keep at it.”
I want a lot more. I need it. So do a lot of us who aren’t terribly visible right now.
My thanks to you.
Thank you Paula for your kind words. I agree wholeheartedly with your comment! We appreciate your connecting with us and the conversations here at DadsTalking.com 🙂