Ain’t no stopping us now!

Dear Ma:

I love you soooo much! You sacrificed so much for me and my brothers and sisters so that we could become proud and strong men and women, prepared to go out into this world confidently, and excel.  From your example we came to understand that with nothing you can create something, and that something you can build a life around. That no matter how many setbacks you have you can always rise again. And I thank you with all of my heart!

But you know what, Ma? You never told me that when I grew up I could be president.

I’m not mad at you. I don’t blame you. A black presidency wasn’t even real to you, was it? So, you couldn’t have possibly imagined it was a possibility for your 4th son…not in your fondest dreams, could you? And even if you could you probably wouldn’t have wanted me walking through this life harboring such a delusion, such a harbinger of disappointment and danger, would you? I mean, you lived through MLK, Malcolm, JFK, RFK, etc… You witnessed the impact of the perils of leadership. And, moreover, you’re not a liar. Not like that. I mean, that would have been on the level of telling us there really is a Santa Claus or Easter Bunny. And that, to your credit, you never did.

I understand. I really do.

After all, in your youth, you picked cotton in Georgia. What does a under-educated young woman, picking cotton on a Georgian plantation, unexposed to much of what the world had to offer, the opportunities that existed, what does she know about such lofty ambitions? it was inconceivable. Presidents didn’t look like you or like anybody that looked like you. Presidents were old white men, until Kennedy. But, always white and always from a reality so far removed from yours that I would be amazed if amid your daily toil in the cotton fields you’d have stopped and said to yourself: “When I have children someday, I will tell them they are entitled to the same things that white people have.”

And so I grew up without this sense of entitlement. And to add insult to injury, I grew up with a disdain for black people who possessed this sense of entitlement. After all, subconsciously, I thought this entitlement was a white privilege and any black person who saw themselves as entitled to white privileges was either delusional or insane. After all, they were trying to be something they could never be: white. Furthermore, In order to achieve these privileges you had to think as they do, live as they do, and I thought that would inevitably lead to such a person treating me as my mother was treated.

Yes, Ma, in your efforts to instill in us a pride of who we are and the stock we come from, you immersed us in a Pan African cultural institution that taught us, in no uncertain terms, that the only way for black people to rise in power is to create a separate world within the white world, and by working together and pooling our intellectual, economical and cultural resources, we could build a power vacuum that the white world will be force to reckon with.You know, power concedes nothing, and all that. Not to hate them so much as to emulate them. It was a flawed plan concocted by minds and souls damaged by decades of hate and discrimination. I love them for what they tried to do, but the flaw is self-evident now, is it not? This grassroots effort was blind to the major ingredient of any mass American movement: Americans.

Even throughout my youth, deep, DEEP, down, I felt America might get to a point someday where these white privileges would be extended to include other groups. So when it began to happen, I wasn’t overwhelmingly surprised. Throughout the 80s, 90s and 2000s, barrier after barrier fell. glass ceiling after glass ceiling shattered. In entertainment, sports, business, etc… For example, nowadays, one can see black CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, black coaches, managers and even part owners of teams, and in the music world black artist with ownership of companies and their own masters is not unheard of. These are all marked advances not to be thought of as at all inevitable. To belittle them in anyway would be sacrilegious.

But the thought of a black person attaining the ultimate white privilege- the US presidency- was virtually unthinkable. For, in my mind, I had built up the presidency as the  most powerful position not only in this country but in the entire world, and how could a country, still predominantly white, ever elect a black face as its face, a black leader as its leader…

I mean, I knew we were capable, and in many cases, better suited for the job. I mean, some of the people we’ve sent to Washington have been just this side of imbecile. And the people that voted for this person…I couldn’t reconcile with the fact that we had anything in common whatsoever. And I simply couldn’t believe that white people were capable of recognizing this abundantly conspicuous fact, blinded by race and ignorance. Yes, I formed a low opinion of white people, and a fear and despise of their ignorance. And, these thoughts and feelings, however incorrect, solidified in my mind and soul into almost a sort of common sense, an inalienable truth. Even the white people I have befriended over the years, or the ones I’ve come to admire, people I’ve been able to connect with beyond the racial context, couldn’t break through this belief system. I simply put them into a category of exceptions to the rule.

But, everything has changed, Ma. EVERYTHING!

Little did you and I know, I was entitled to the presidency, and everything else this country has to offer its citizens. Little did we know, Ma, that we were citizens of the greatest country on earth! Perhaps, the greatest civilization in the history of the world! Little did you know that that which you couldn’t bring yourself to do, I will be able to do. Over the years, as you know, I have been very critical of our country. After all, you saw fit to enroll me in a school that openly criticized Her history and policies, while at the same time introduced me to our precious African history and heritage. I thank you for your foresight for without a clear understanding of where we have come from how could I fully appreciate where we have arrived as of today?

And, we have arrived haven’t we? It’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it?

I watched the news today. My ears hear the words that my brain and heart struggle to embrace: President-Elect Obama, an Obama Administration, A dream fulfilled, 364 electoral votes…and I realize that he was speaking directly to You and I when he said: If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

You never told me I could be president but you gave me a strong sense of my capacity to make an impact. A sense that I used to embolden myself enough to march into a lily white suburb of North Philadelphia and knock on doors on behalf of a leader I believed would be in the best interest of all Americans. I’m grateful to President Obama for helping me with my entitlement issues. He didn’t do it a black way, nor a white way. He did it the American way. It was it not beautiful to behold? But it was you who blessed me with a value of education and knowledge with which I carefully followed his ascension, listening carefully to his speeches (and those of others), reading and researching his policies (and those of others), and taking such an active role in the political process. I have to give you as much credit as i give Barack. You weren’t able to instill in me the ambition to be president or even the vision of such a day occurring, but you did prepare me to be able to embrace a Black man in the White House and to be able to fully appreciate what a life-altering turn of events this is.

So, I thank you, Ma.

With love

Loco

PS: How much longer will I stay in Japan? Well, until the economy improves a bit, I still need a job and I’m doing pretty well over here, financially anyway. Maybe next year!

PPS: President Barack Hussein Obama… Can you believe it???? How long will my shock last?

I expected this presidential election to go negative. I’m sure we all did. They always do, don’t they?

I expected racial slurs- though coded, as well as a few age slurs flung about, character assassinations attempted, a scandal or two or three, death threats made by the hundreds, even perhaps an ill-advised actual assassination attempt (though I’m sure the Secret Service would have thwarted it.) I think it’s safe to say that that’s the nature of the beast. All par for the course.

There have been some surprises, though. None too pleasant, either. And, the latest surprise is by far the least pleasant of all.

I was surprised that someone as heroic as John McCain and someone as soccer-momish as Sarah Palin- the so-called Country First ticket- would, with a few ill-chosen words, actually incite a large group of supporters- hungry for change, eager for leadership- into a drooling, eyes-glazing, slur-hurling, lynch mob. I simply didn’t think it was possible, and I certainly didn’t expect it to be…tolerated.

I feel so naive today; like a child that just learned that a very affectionate Uncle he adored was actually a pederast. I feel humiliated and violated, too. McCain wants to unite xenophobes under his banner of Country First . Ok…there’s nothing wrong with that. Xenophobes have as much right to vote as those homeless people in Ohio being dragged off the streets by taxi drivers to register to vote. Obama needs every vote he can get and his supporters are doing whatever it takes to get out the vote.

But what is McCain up to? Where is he going with this new strategy? Is he leading these people, who are desperate for a leader to guide them, and would follow his every command, towards the voting booths on Nov 4th, ballot in hand, or to a suburb in Chicago, Molotov cocktails and torches in hand?

From the recent rhetoric, I think the latter.

I have a little experience with xenophobia. I’m currently living in Japan (’nuff said). But, I must admit, before coming here I thought xenophobia was one of those conditions doctors and pharmaceutical companies got together and created to market a concoction they’d stumbled upon as a side effect while developing a drug to keep men erect or women wet.

Before I moved to the land of the Rising Sun and lowering birthrate, I didn’t know much about the Japanese. The predominant characterizations I’d learned about them was that they were passive to a fault, polite to the extreme, and xenophobic as all get out. The first issue I could live with. I figured with my natural NY aggression I could thrive in such an environment. But after 30 something years of living in the Brooklyn Zoo I was a little worried I’d miss the directness I’ve come to appreciate. I envisioned some kind of superficial society where people constantly hide their true motivations behind masks of gentility.  But, I figured a little politeness wouldn’t kill me.

The latter, xenophobia, however, gave me a moment’s pause.

I remember the first time I encountered the word. I was watching the news one day in 2001, the summer before 9/11, coincidentally (or not), and the anchor said that the US was withdrawing from the World Conference against Racism, Racial Discrimination and Xenophobia and related intolerance (held in South Africa, ironically) because of certain hateful language that would be used against Israel. There are some who thought the issue of  Reparations for African-Americans for the crimes (committed by the US) against humanity that the American slave trade represented, which was also to be discussed at this conference, was also a reason for the withdrawal, but that’s debatable. The withdrawal was, ironically, issued by, then, Secretary of State Colin Powell.

I remember reaching for my handy dictionary to look up xenophobia, and not knowing what to make of the definition: An unreasonable fear, distrust or hatred of foreigners or anything perceived to be foreign or different. hmmm…

Where I lived in Brooklyn, xenophobia wasn’t, well, feasible. My neighborhood was like a UN of Developing Nations. Nearly every country in the Caribbean and Latin America was represented. Fear of foreign or strange was beyond unreasonable…it was downright ridiculous. It meant fear of leaving your house, or in some cases, your bedroom. Hatred of foreign or strange meant fighting for your life every day, because your school, your neighborhood, and even your apartment building was full of these so-called foreigners with their strange smells and languages and accents, customs and fashions.

Living like this, you learned intimately about other people and cultures, and more importantly how to interact and find common ground. Metaphorically, I lived in a training ground for Americans. Perhaps you made jokes about other cultures among your own. You definitely got into heated discussions about whose culture was better. But you couldn’t rationally harbor hatred or fear, and your silly stereotypes would be challenged on a regular basis. In this environment, not only were the stereotypes present, so were the exceptions. This was the beauty of Brooklyn, to me. The world (or at least representatives of a majority of it) was in my face everyday. In my neighborhood, if you thought African Americans were stupid, shiftless, and lazy then the first one you would meet would be someone like me on my way to work. I’m no genius but I’m far from stupid. If The News told you that Haitians brought AIDS to the US and Hollywood told you they stick needles in dolls and raise people from the dead, then you’ll find out that the girl you’ve been lusting over is Haitian and she’s the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen. And once she’s your girlfriend you go to her house and learn over dinner that Voodoo is not what Hollywood taught you it was. If you thought Jewish people were cheap or racist, the Jewish kid next door would be one your best friends and your best supplier of the marijuana you smoked together daily. You wake up in the morning tapping your foot to the bachata your Dominican neighbor plays every morning (that you’ve come to love) , smelling the fried chicken and waffles your mother’s hooking up for breakfast in the kitchen while your older brother is trying to creep his half-Chinese / half-Jamaican girlfriend, who’d spent the night, out of the apartment while your mother’s distracted.

But, I guess, living in this “Ghetto” I was spoiled. From my perspective, I grew up in that Melting Pot that America boasts to the world as the ideal. The only thing homogeneous in my community was the milk. And, with my NY arrogance, I came to believe that this was what the whole country should be like, one nation under the groove… That this was the only way America would ever be at its best; the IDEAL America (minus the crime and extreme poverty and the other social ills, of course)

Not to say that Brooklyn wasn’t segregated. You better believe it was! Bensonhurst was Italian, Brighton Beach was Russian, Bay Ridge was Jewish, and Brooklyn Heights was, well, rich- dare I say WASP. And, a foreigner (meaning non-resident or not resembling a resident) trespassing in those areas would be subject to, at best, harassment from the police and at worst some kind of citizen arrest, which have occasionally turned into lynchings in my life time.

So, naturally, I was well aware that there were places in our country where my presence would, at a minimum, draw looks and perhaps fear and hatred. I drove from NYC to Montreal once, through upstate NY, and I was shocked at how different NY is outside of NYC. I stopped for gas near Saratoga and I thought the gas attendant was going to call the police he looked so afraid.  But, I have the tendency to give such people the benefit of the doubt. They’re simply ignorant, I tell myself, not racist. Plus, they see more stereotypical images of me than they see the real me so the stereotypical tends to be more real to them than the real. I imagine they actually begin to feel like they know me and thus they actually feel that their fear is rational. I might very well be high on Crack, angry as hell at the “Man” (meaning him) and have an Uzi in my glove compartment, looking to smoke some fool, for all they know.

Not to suggest I don’t have an angry bone in my body. You better believe I do. Several! But, I would never harm, fear or hate someone for being different. That’s not in my make-up. But, push the wrong fucking buttons and I could be all up in your shit right quick. That neighborhood I described was, in the 70’s when I was being reared, an angry place. The rhetoric that Reverend Jeremiah Wright was lambasted for is soft porn. He was holding back. Some of the teachers in my elementary school would make Wright look moderate, and some of my friends in High School make Wright look white! But, just like Barack could sit in that pew and listen and derive from whatever rhetoric he heard what was useful and what was useless, what was important and what was trivial, what was intelligent and what was stupid, what was rational and what was ridiculous, so could I. And what I’ve come to believe and accept as my personal truths sustain my anger, (some would say unfortunately, but I don’t.)  One of the things that angers me is the hypocrisy in our country. We claim to be tolerant but when it comes time to showing and proving it, too many of us turn into an angry mob.

The Japanese suffer from the same ignorance, only they have a better excuse: They don’t boasts of not being, nor aspire to be, anything but homogeneous. So, like today, when people refused to stand near me on a crowded train, some actually leaving the car and going to the next to avoid being near me, and when a woman, upon noticing me, yanked her child away from me in the convenience store, snapping, “abunai” (dangerous!) and when over a dozen people raised their hands in a defensive posture as they pass me in anticipation of a blow or some kind of assault against their person that I was likely to commit, I still gave them the benefit of the doubt. After all, I tell myself, they have good reason not to trust foreigners, don’t they? Look at the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, damaged at the cellular level for generations to come, their children born with a genetic death sentence.

Nevertheless, I tell myself, they are simply afraid of the change I represent, because I carry with me, like a neon sign, the promise of a society where they won’t have the comfort and security of having a strong inclination of what the other person is thinking and feeling because that person has the same or very similar values, upbringing and indoctrination, and thus his ideas won’t be that distinguishable from your own.

In Japan, I am decidedly The Other. I am, as McCain so succinctly put it, THAT ONE in this country.

I say to whoever would listen that America is proof-positive that it doesn’t have to be that way. That I am the product of a culture that while yes, it has a long way to go before it can be truly considered a successful experiment in multi-culturalism, (freedom, justice and equality for all, and all that jazz), that it is well on its way.  And with Obama’s political ascendancy, my words hold a validity that they didn’t before. And thus, I, like Michelle Obama before me, for the first time in my WHOLE life have been feeling proud to be an American. Even as the mistreatment I receive here continues I’ve managed to keep my head high (figuratively speaking.)

It’s not easy to convince yourself not to hate people that mistreat you for irrational reasons. I know now how my parents must have felt back in the 50s and 60s. I had only experienced their humiliation vicariously until now.  A couple things have enabled me to stay afloat (psychologically). One is…yeah, you guessed it: Obama! I ponder his path from Hawaii to Washington and I think, wow! And I ask myself, when I’m faced with ignorance that would incite violence in most people, “what would B.O. do?” The answer is usually one of patience, grace, and, of course, strategic thinking as opposed to being reactionary. The other thought that has sustained me as I go through these daily assaults on my relatively good nature is the thought that MY country, sweet land of liberty that it aspires to be, is in the process of showing the world that we are truly the greatest nation on…

WAIT! STOP THE PRESSES!

Now the world turns on the News and sees video of a mob of Americans shouting “Kill Him” “Terrorist” etc, and they, at least the Japanese, say “Yappari!” (Just as we thought).  Aren’t we lucky and wise that we don’t have a multi-cultural society? See! Those kinds of problems are unresolvable. People of different colors, religions and ideas can never live together without violence. They are a stupid, immature and impatient people and culture. One day they will learn what we have learned long ago and through many centuries of civilization: One nation and one race equals peace and tranquility. (I’m paraphrasing, of course, based on the conversations I have had over the past five years.)

I know John McCain and Sarah Palin want to win. I even understand that he feels he’s entitled to win. I can imagine what it must feel like to a man of his accomplishments, war veteran and what not, to see himself snatching defeat from the jaws of victory due to his poor judgment and his affiliation with the Party that is being held responsible for the economic crisis. While a relative neophyte prances around talking change and exposing his weaknesses. Like he said, “it’s not fair!” But, to win at any cost, Just because, as he says, “I know how to win?” To tear down the country so he could get credit rebuilding it if he should find the wherewithal to do it, though I’ve seen no evidence of it?

John McCain…you might get the vote of every xenophobe in America, and you might strike fear of the road ahead in the heart of a majority of the people in this country who really want to move forward. And that might bring you the desperately sought victory you place before your honor and integrity and even your country. But, even then, you will be known as the man that stoked the flame of the hate Americans have been trying to douse since the founders of our country set out to make a more perfect union. And for that, I promise, you will wish you had sacrificed your raging ambition and acquiesced to the apparent will of the American people.

Why? As a result of your dirty deed, there will be such a groundswell of the likes that America has never seen. And not just within her borders, but around the world. A virtual tsunami of not so much Anti-American sentiment, but Anti-YOU! Much the way Barack has become a symbol of what America truly aspires to be, YOU will become the angry, bitter, petty symbol of what’s wrong with this country, and perhaps the world. YOU will preside over the anti- PEACE, anti-HOPE, anti-PROSPERITY presidency.

And you’ll still be talking about “I know how to win” (evidence to the contrary).

We deserve better!

Obama/Biden 08

The best thing about living in Japan, for me, was the support for Barack Obama.

Yes, Japanese people are overwhelmingly xenophobic and many are racists as well (I didn’t know there was a difference until I came here), so when I first began to notice the support that Obama had here, starting during the primaries, frankly, I was shocked.  I had to get to the bottom of it because it just didn’t jibe with what I had concluded about Japanese people through living with them over the past 5 years.

I have a bunch of private students. In fact, over the course of my stay here, I would say I’ve had about 50 or so. I teach them English and they pay me money…it’s a very cozy arrangement, and everybody’s happy. From time to time, before, during or after lessons, we get into discussions about various things. Cultural comparisons, language issues, and even political issues if their English skill level is high enough (cuz my Japanese still sucks!) I love these moments much more than than the teaching, to be honest.

During these sessions, I’ve learned a great deal. Several students I’ve been teaching for years and so we’re practically friends (aside for the financial side) or at least I’ve established a trust that enables them to step out of their cultural shells of politeness and actually say what they are really thinking and feeling.  They show their true faces. It actually has a name. They call it Hon’ne (pronounced hone-nay-here’s an explanation from wikipedia)… With hon’ne unleashed, I’m freed up to get the true answers to the questions I have.

Being a black man in Japan means you look like every famous black person in Japan. When I arrived here, and for about a year afterwards, it was Bob Sapp, a famous K-1 fighter. Then there was Bobby Ologun, another K-1 fighter and comedian from Africa.  Then Billy Blanks, of Billy’s Boot Camp fame. :

Bob Sapp Mask

Bobby Olugun mask

Billy Blanks (not a mask)

(Is it me or are those mask a little creepy?)

All were and are extremely popular here. I don’t think I favor any of them but I’ll let those of you who know me be the judge of that. For those of you who don’t …well, I am black and I do keep my hair bald usually.

I guess what I’m avoiding saying is no one says “hey, Obama!” when I walk down the street. Not that I favor him either but geez, I’d rather be associated with him then any of those other guys; 2 of which are clowns, so buffoonish I can hardly stand to see them.

Anyway, I ask my students, how do they feel about Obama. The general consensus was: He’s great! It’s amazing what he is trying to accomplish and they sincerely wished him the best. One student who confessed to me that Japanese people, in general, hold a very low opinion of black people, and view them as a people to either be pitied (africans) or feared( Americans) but if Obama gets elected, the Japanese impression of black people will change.

I appreciated his honesty. I knew he was right. Japanese, like people all over the world, recognize that although America is a multi-racial society, throughout her history, the dominant race has always been white, and the leadership as well, and that leadership, while having done some good around the world has also done a great deal of damage as well i.e. Hiroshima and Nagasaki. And he, meaning they (for, unlike Americans, in an homogeneous country like Japan, one Japanese person’s thoughts and feelings can pretty much sum up the nation’s thoughts and feelings, I’ve found, felt that an Obama presidency would mark a drastic change and a profile upheaval for black people.

He also told me something else I found striking. He said the perception of Obama, based on his speeches, his manner, and his grace, reminded them of an Asian. His patience, especially in the face of the types of attacks he’d endured during the primary and even currently, they find extremely admirable, almost Confucius like. It’s a trait that they had not previously acknowledged in African Americans. Conversely, he found African Americans in general to be easily excitable, impetuous, and decidedly impatient.

“Based on what?”

“Based on movies and TV shows…”

I see.

Well, then came Sarah Palin, making a big splash at the Republican convention, with her Alaskan whine, her excessive un-blinking decisiveness, her problematic relationship with the truth, Hockey Mom sporting a $2500 Valentino Garavani jacket, and…and…oh hell, $400 MP-704’s made by Japanese Frame Designer Kazuo Kawasaki.

Kazuo Kawasaki

Unless you’re from an island (not Manhattan) l can’t tell you how much impact something like this can have on an island nation. The world is recognizing one of their own. He might have taken back the Sumo championship from them damn Mongolians. He might have gotten the Nobel Peace Prize for ecological innovations. Usain Bolt knows what I’m talking about. He’s more popular than King Sellasie in Jamaica right now.

Kawasaki said in an interview that he shares what he sees as some common political sentiments with Palin, “I am quite right-wing,” he says.

Well, anyway, the above notwithstanding, Obama is still very popular here (in Japan), but right now he has to take a backseat to the woman sporting a Japanese native’s handiwork. Maybe someone should call her out for not buying good ole North American EyeWear frames.

Japanese frames? How unpatriotic is that?? Next she’ll be refusing to wear a flag pin…

Palin with Un-American frames (-;

Wait a minute…she isn’t wearing a flag pen, is she?

Alaska First (-:

Obama/Biden 08

for more stories about Japan go to: Loco in Yokohama