They just be concealing it

I found myself locked into a conversation with a friend about politics recently (Yes it is a day of the week that ends in "y'"). This individual has conservative/anti-government leanings and I have liberal/anti-corporate leanings. We disagreed on most of the usual things concerning government intervention: climate change, health care, and financial regulation to name a few. These are all the expected areas that our world views tend to polarize us on but at some point we hit the issue of race. There is apparently a portion of financial regulation legislation that sets up an Office of Minority and Women Inclusion (OMWI), with the intention to make sure minorities and women are represented in Wall Street firms. This individual couched this in the light of race; he excluded or maybe didn’t know about the gender issue.

Racism is apparently dead, it was apparently shot on the balcony with Martin, and I didn’t get the memo. In fact we are now living in a world of reverse racism. I hear this echoed in right-wing chambers like radio and tea party activists, but, this is the first I have had the pleasure to get it from the horse’s mouth. His concern was first that the government should not meddle in private business and second that racism is mostly gone. I refused to be pulled into the libertarian argument about government intervention but could not help the fact that his second point was dead wrong.

Racism is not dead. I do not know if I can say it any more plainly than that. I thankfully haven’t been through any major issues with race as yet, just the everyday stuff. I am hyperaware of my race and stereotypes and work hard to make a “good” first impression. Even with that I still get the reactions, looks and qualifiers. I do need to note some qualifiers of my own. I do understand that there are a lot of poor whites out there who have a tough time in this economy, in any economy, who see this as the government keeping them down. Racial quotas bother these people and I can emphasize with them. The key here is that nobody actively worked to get them and keep them poor over another person. What they are experiencing is the normal, however unfair, reality of class warfare that we all have to battle.

The OMWI is needed, the fact is that white males have a head start and everyone else needs some help to level the playing field. I believe we stand on the shoulders of others, this is the American experience, we build upon the past. My grandparents (If they had been born in America) set the example and help my parents do better than they did my parents in turn help me do better than my grandparents did and I help my kids do better. It usually takes several generations to come from poor to middle class and stay there; of course there are the exceptions that go right there no matter the race or gender.

Remembering What We've Lost

A lot more was lost on that fateful day than can ever be tallied accurately. Not only were thousands of lives lost, but, we have slowly lost our way as a nation since then.

I am reminded as I pass through Ground Zero that our collective wound is bare. It is open to all the harsh realities of the world: the tempestuous rains, the driving winds, the cold of winter and the searing sun. This reality is more than the still gaping hole in the ground, it bores one right into our psyche.

We all have this shared memory of where we were and how we felt that day; whether you were one of the buildings or awoken from your slumber in California. Most of us have not yet dealt with the resulting PTSD, war stories, casualties and conflicts only dig out the sores and compund the disorder.

We now want to judge which religion is good and safe. Those not deemed safe are to be barred from hallow ground. When the words Muslim and Islam are taken as slurrs and must be suffixed by "but" with a "positive" statement, we have not yet healed. When we retread "old favorites" such as burning books, we have not yet healed.

I believe that we won't heal unless we try to understand eachother by attending each other's houses of worship: temples, mosques and churches to name a few. The more we interact with eachother, the more we get to know our neighbhors the harder it is to hate. We find more points of commonality than difference. Perhaps that fateful day will be to first point of commonality and first chance at peace.

Back From Summer Vacation

The dog days of summer are finally coming to the end, the air is crisp and the material is new. I have tons of blogs coming in the next couple days: something old, somethings new, something borrow and something blue. I'll start with posts on my actual vacation to St. Lucia and sprinkle in some serious topics along the way.

St. Lucia '10 Day .5

Day one on every trip is usually day .5 as most time is spent doing things you don't like and don't want to do. There is the loads of laundry to acquire suitable attire for the climate, packing of the luggauge and packing the car to name a few.

These tasks make the days before vacation a pain and you just hope it's worth the hassle. It didn't help much that the flight left before the crack.

The arbitrary rules on the merits of plastic bags as lugage didn't help. The icing on the cake was the fact that the flight to ATL was late. Power garbage can?

I thought that getting to JFK was a hassle; the SUV was packed to the hilt. The cars tend to be smaller in St. Lucia, I found myself pressed up against luggage for the entire bumby ride to my grandma's place.

I was happily greeted by my granddad and grandma. I have not been party to such affection, especially from my granddad, since I was a mere pup. My grandparents love and care for all their kids and grandkids but are complete working stiff; they tend to be very formal in all most interactions.

My grandma had a meal of flying fried flying fish and breadfruit waiting for us; granddad offered up a beer. After consuming all that was before me I took in the outside: the chickens had the run of the backyard, the cashew tree was rife with ripe fruits and the cherry tree had all but surrendered all its fruit to the earth.

My aunt picked me up and talked about the goings on and the useful sites along the way. The first thing I noticed there was the big screen HD TV; I was eager to find out what passed for HD content in these parts. After settling for a bit it was time to explore and to acquire goods for daily sustenance. Crossing the main road was Frogger on crack I wouldn't expect anything less.

With LLB and breakfast options in hand I froggered back to my aunt's place. I'd already marked out several places I needed to try during my stay, the least of these were the food cart, the Jerk Pit.

The night was frankly horrible: mosquitoes were having their way with my flesh, and more annoyingly, were buzzing in my ear. To top it off there was no fan or air conditioner in the room. After many agonizing hours and many failed ear-plugging attempts, I was finally tired enough to ignore my my bite riddle itchy skin and the extreme heat and humidity. Day .5 was done and not a moment too soon.