Showing posts with label racism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label racism. Show all posts

Thursday, June 26, 2008

THE HISTORY LESSON . . . (More On Name-Calling) . . .

Back in high school, I had a favorite teacher, who, with his big grin, jerky movements and small, wiry frame, reminded me of a cricket--Jiminy Cricket to be precise. He was a older fellow whose wisdom and intellect I'd accepted without question until the day he opened his mouth and spat out the words, "Those dirty Japs!"

The first time I heard him say it, I was stunned. I thought to myself, Surely, I must had misheard him. I didn't want to believe that my favorite teacher, a man whom I'd admired for his quick wit and keen sense of humor, not to mention his command of American history, had actually made such an offense comment.

But it was true. Again and again, while covering the U.S. involvement in WWII, one of my high school teachers used the terms "Japs" and "dirty Japs" in reference to the Japanese. And each time he uttered the words, I squirmed in my seat, made uncomfortable not only by his use of the ethnic slur, but by my own hesitancy when it came to voicing my objections.

Some memories stay with one always.

No, I'm not Japanese. I'm not even Asian. (Well, as far as I know *smile* According to the hubby, I do sorta kinda look Asian when I'm asleep). By self-definition, I am an African American of the female persuasion. But if it matters, and in this instance it did, there was a young woman of obvious Asian ancestry in that particular high school history class. I don't recall her name. She and I weren't friends or even acquaintances. The possibility exists that she was no more Japanese that was I, as does the possibility that she took no offense to our teacher's comments. But the fact remains that we were both young women of color, bound together in one sense by our vulnerable status as the only two visible minorities in a classroom full of young, White students, and bound together in another sense by our silence.

I can't help but think we should have said something, if only to one another. Why didn't we? Was it youth? Shyness? Fear? Ambivalence? Embarrasment? Or was it simply too far an emotional distance for either of us to cross. Twenty-plus years later, I still don't know.

Looking back on the incident, I now find it both unnerving and somewhat ironic that the teacher in questin reminded me of a cricket. The truth is, I have a fear of crickets, a fear that involves my not knowing where the little critters are bound to jump next.

And indeed, it is a small jump from Jap to nigger/from faggot to coon/ from spic to jigaboo/

If I, as an African American, wait until the slur turns from slanty-eye bastard to big-lipped baboon, then have I not, in fact, waited too late? Of course, I have. I think even way back then, I somehow sensed it was so.

"In Germany they came first for the Communists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't Communists. Then they came for the Jews and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist. Then they came for the Catholics and I didn't speak up because I was Protestant. Then they came for me, and by that time no one was left to speak up for me."
(Rev. Martin Niemoller, 1892-1984)

"If they take you in the morning, they will be coming for us that night."
(James Baldwin, 1924-1987)

And for those who still don't get it, the "History Lesson" here is--just as there is no safety in silence, there is no safety in drawing the lines of intervention around our own ethnic, racial, sexual or religious identities.

(Written while listening to Erykah Badu's "Honey," "The Healer" and "Master Teacher" from the CD entitled New Amerykah: Part One (4th World War). Check the refrain from "Master Teacher":
"What if there was no niggas only master teachers?
I stay woke . . ."

Saturday, July 28, 2007

AFRICAN AMERICANS & TENNIS . . . MORE QUOTES . . .

I subscribe to the NY Times online, but as of late, I've been much too busy to read them. While deleting some of the clutter in the mail box, I stop and read over some of the article titles in the Times Sunday Book Review, dated July 22, 2007. I noticed a review on a book entitled, CHARGING THE NET: A History of Blacks in Tennis from Althea Gibson and Arthur Ashe to the Williams Sisters.

The book, which is edited by Cecil Harris and Larryette Kyle-DeBose, consists of 65 interviews and presents an indepth look into the lives of Black tennis stars.

A couple of the quotes in the article, written by Toure, jumped out at me.

Leslie Allen, who participated in the sport in the 80's said the following: "I'd go to a tournament where the family wanted to house the No. 1 seed. But when that family found out that the No. 1 seed was me, then suddenly the housing disappeared."

The editors (Harris and Kyle-DeBose) made the following observations: "The unspoken but persistent vibe that you are not welcome, that others would be happier if you went away, a vibe that black tennis players have sensed on the main tour for decades, makes it difficult to find the rhythm and comfort zone needed to perform at your best."

I'm not a major follower of tennis, but this book sounds like one I'd enjoy reading. I was surprised by some of the details the article shared, particularly, as far as some of the personal difficulties faced by so many of the better known tennis stars. Also,I'm intrigued by the thought that so many African Americans, whose names I've never heard, not only played, but excelled in the sport (smile).

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

VENUS WILLIAMS . . . SOME FOOD FOR THOUGHT . . .

The following is yet another great quote I found in the July 23, 2007 issue of JET magazine. According to the article on page 9, after her recent Wimbeldon victory, Venus Williams said:

"I was really motivated because no one picked me to win. They didn't even say, 'She can't win.' They weren't even talking about me."

I, too, noticed the lack of attention Venus received before, after and during the competition. The news media almost seemed to take an "oh,well" view of this accomplished athlete. I'd like to say, I don't understand . . . but if I did, I'd be lying (smile).

If Tiger Woods goes out on the golf course and breaks a nail, it's deemed a newsworthy item of the highest order. If Tiger were a Black woman (not that he has ever considered himself a Black man, of course *smile*) would he warrant the same kind of attention? Probably not.

I'll even go a step further and say, he most certainly WOULD NOT were he a dark-skinned Black woman. Yeah, I said it. Meant it too (smile).

No, racism, sexism and the "invisibility" of Black women is/are hardly anything new. Sojourner Truth's "Ain't I a Woman?" refrain is just as pertinent today as it was when she first uttered it back in 1851

I can only hope and pray that one day we'll stop being in denial about the "isms" that we've all internalized and that influence how we see or choose not to see certain people . . . and one another.

So, what are your thoughts on the subject?