Uptown Notes

The other day I was inspired to write on the “race card.” Today I woke up and was driven to think about sexual assault and the concept of the “rape card.” I must first admit that I can’t really recall this term being as common as the race card, but in my view the ideas that motivate the concept of rape as illusion are the same that motivate race as illusion. This morning I received an email from a close friend that simply read “Dear Morehouse Brothers, stop raping your Spelman sisters.” I was shocked, confused, and inquisitive. I ran to the trusty google news search and typed in Morehouse. A couple entries down I found this story from the AJC. As Tribe said, “Don’t you know that things go in cycles.” The article discusses the walk out that Spelman students executed in response to recently emerged “alleged” incidents of rape. I wrote alleged like that for a reason, let me explain.

Back in 1996 when I was a freshman at Morehouse there was a huge controversy that tore Spelman and Morehouse apart. There was an “alleged” rape of a Spelman woman by multiple Morehouse students on Morehouse’s campus. The story was covered, literally, on the now defunct Emerge Magazine. At the ripe age of 17 I was in a world of confusion. I’ve always considered myself, despite my behaviors at times, as a feminist as well as a supporter of Black men. In the swirl of the rape controversy I didn’t know where to stand. In my years prior to Morehouse I had decided to always believe any woman who said she had been assaulted be it physical or sexually (I do know these terms are not mutually exclusive but you know what I mean). But in a hall full of Black men, I began to doubt this idea. I wondered, what if she’s lying? I honestly think it was the first time I found myself in conflict with my own politics in a way that I couldn’t easily resolve. Well, I do not think I was alone in that, despite what the more vocal voices on Morehouse’s campus said.

Instead of having to remedy this dilemma, for many years I thought I was absolved of this responsibility when it was found that the “alleged victim” was found in the same dorm in a compromising position shortly after. That is how “the rape”, became “the alleged rape.”

If you ask virtually any brother who went to the House during that time they will mention “the alleged rape.” I have attempted to avoid that saying, but much like Tribe said “I try not to say it, but my lips are like an ooh-wop as I start to spray it.” By naming it “the alleged rape” we employed the same rhetorical device as “the race card”. I heard many brothas say, “If she was raped, then why would she be in the same dorm again?” and “she’s a hoe.” Slippery slope reasoning 101 was and has been in full effect on the campus and beyond. At the ripe age of 17,19, 28 or 65 many of us can’t see how rape can occur, regardless of how we interpret a person’s sexual proclivities. As my friend Dance recently posted, the truth is that rape is almost exclusively identified as the responsibility of women in our society. Essentially, if you can find a breech in her responsibility, you can find absolution.

Fast forward ten years, Spelman students walk out of classes to protest the silence that has existed between Morehouse and Spelman and sexual assault. Once again, the same “alleged rape” scenario is appearing under the guise of impartiality. Once again, I know many young brothers are “caught in the same situation” that I was in 10 years ago. In the fray of all these debates, disagreements, and arguments, most of us who debate “the truth” miss the forest for the trees. I have finally come to the conclusion that even if these incidents are found to be “untrue” or are “dismissed” we still must realize that there is no way in HELL that in a span of 10 years there have been 2 or 3 sexual assaults between our campuses. It is almost impossible to quantify how many sexual and physical assaults, because so many have gone un-noted, un-reported, and un-treated (and not just between Morehouse and Spelman). A word for the concerned, drop the debate and deal with reality. The fact is that rape is rampant in our society.

See, in my mind, I could accept “alleged rapes” but I couldn’t accept “race cards”. Though analytically dangerous, the best way for me to understand gender and oppression is to find an analog in the areas of race and oppression. Not until I re-read my words about the race card and read about my Spelman sisters and Morehouse brothers did I see the reality, alleged rapes and race cards are the same. Rhetorical tools used by the dominant to assure that we are never fully responsible for our actions. We have a problem, a serious problem.

I spent the day in suburban Detroit trying to convince White men to sit down and share their views and opinions about race and social opportunity with me in a survey. As you can imagine, it would have been easier for me to learn Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 in C minor (and trust me I don’t even know how to play an instrument)in between writing dissertation chapters. If nothing else was confirmed to me today, its that most White Michiganders don’t want to talk about race and ethnicity, unless it’s on their terms. The survey is a lengthy one, so I can understand people being intimidated by length, but I was intrigued by one White man’s response. He took the survey, looked it over for about 5 minutes and returned it to me empty and said “I’m not prejudice in any way and I’d rather not take this.” So the good social scientist in me says, “Well Dumi, he thought you were trying to get him to answer in a certain way, thus you tainted the experience.” But the catch comes in that this same man when I asked him about the city of Detroit a few minutes earlier told me, “It’s going no where” and the problem of the city were because “people want to play the race card.” He went on to explain some issues with race and how they were too trumped up, etc, etc. His returning of th survey reminded me of 2 things about White dialogues about race: 1) we can talk about race and ethnicity, but only on White folks’ terms and 2) the race card is real in White folks’ minds.

Now you can say I am unfairly characterizing a group, White men, on this guys response, but trust me, I had a number of guys be not so kind to me after the survey. I don’t think it was simply the people who I bumped into today, but this country and Metro Detroit has a serious silence on the dialogue of race. Now Detroit is the most segregated major metro area. Want the evidence of it? I spoke to people who have lived over 10 years in the suburbs of Detroit who admitted to me that they had only been into the city 2 or 3 times. When I informed some people I wanted to get their opinions about Metro Detroit they said things like, “Well I don’t know anything about the Detroit area.” Ladies and Gentleman, if you live in the same county, less than 8 miles from the city limits, you may be a part of the Metro Detroit area. I didn’t make the term up, hell if you watch the news they say it at least 30 times each morning. But somehow, White Metro Detroiters, seem to consider themselves autonomous, and in many ways are. If you live in a completely segregated space, attend segregated work, and socialized in segregated ways, you are autonomous. But if you live in those conditions then why not talk about race?

Well because talking about race means that someone is going to play that dreaded card. That’s right, there is always a hold card tucked deep in my hand. It’s more powerful then a flush and apparently all Black folks are adept at playing it, it’s the race card. I think the term the race card is really interesting in that it immediately trivializes social experience. There is nothing cool or joyous about being pulled over and having police officers approach your car with their gun drawn because you’re a young Black man. There is nothing fun about being followed around stores when you’re really trying to buy something. There is nothing amusing about living in substandard conditions because you inherit the debits of your family’s “misfortune.” When I talk about race, I’m not playing shit, I’m telling you my experience. Don’t discount my experience because you have lived a different one than me. I don’t discount your experiences. What if I said, “Oh he’s playing the class card.” People don’t say that, because folks who are White, Black, Asian, Latin@, Purple know that social class matters. Isn’t it peculiar that race and ethnicities, which are just as “socially real” as social class, are part of a game.

There are so many rhetorical tricks around the issue of race in the country that silence the dialogue. If you want some good reading on them check out Eduardo Bonilla-Silva. I think the first step to real dialogue about race and opportunity is realizing that no one here is playing a card or a game. The stakes of segregation, discrimination and deprivation are real. See cause if this was a game, I would be holding chips under the table, because the race card doesn’t seem to “win” me much. Ah man, I’ll write more later.

The video below is done by Kiri Davis and its entitled “A girl like me.” It’s a short film from the Media that Matters Film Festival. Dance posted the link to it on her page earlier this week and I found myself too busy to check it out, then my sister sent me to it, so I decided to watch it. Honestly, it made me cry, literally. I just grabbed it off of youtube so you could click on it directly and not be like me and just pass it by. One click. Please watch it.

One of the reasons I cried was that for someone who studies race and children everyday, in someways I have to believe or want to believe “things have changed.” Her “replication” of the doll study, was the thing got me gushing tears. As a social scientist I’ve toiled over, rationalized, and critiqued the Clark findings by saying, well the doll was painted, etc. which had an effect … blah, blah, fucking blah! There is something powerful and clear about this video. Scientifically we’ll always debate self-esteem among African-Americans, but I’m not sure science can tell us some of the things that we’re living.

Okay, I really don’t have time to be posting on this right now, but I had to acknowledge it. I went to sleep last night and opened my webmail today and was greeted by a new face.

Yeah, yeah, I know it’s blurry but this is the icon for a personal message! Before it was a little White face, literally White with no color, but now we have Raheem. That’s my nickname for him! I may even respond to U of M email from now on because of Raheem.

Secondly the Black Welcome Week schedule is up and posted here. Aight, off to do work.

Update: This morning we seem to have gone back to the old White person instead of Raheem. I pray that this is just a system adjustment. For those who didn’t remember the old one, this is what he/she looked like.

Omodiende posted a powerful piece over at the Barbershop Notebooks. The piece is “Living with Dying: The Reality of AIDS“. Share it with someone.

Making films is hard. Making hip-hop films is harder. Making a film that plays with time and space is something that Outkast did well. I went to check out Idlewild a couple of days ago and was really moved to write a review, then I got lazy. This is my third incarnation of the review. Enjoy.

Not your Idlewild?
There has been a little bit of controversy around the movie being set in Idlewild, Ga (a mythical place). A year or so ago I heard about Idlewild, MI and thought that the movie was going to have a special connection to the area. I didn’t particularly have an issue with the name and the setting, which was cool with me, but not with some.

“They take something with such historical significance as Idlewild, take the peripheral aspects of it, and turn it into a shoot-‘em-up, bang-bang minstrel show. It demeans me as an African-American.”

That was the comment of Coy Davis, the director of Whatever Happened to Idlewild. I hear that it’s a good documentary, but I was pretty suprised that he would come out his neck so quickly about the film. There was shooting, but it wasn’t a shoot-em up film. A minstrel show, interesting… there weren’t even any White folks in the movie that I recall. There was the presence of the Black Middle class,decent representations of the juke joint, commentary on the “chitterling circuit”, oh I guess characterizing Black culture in rural areas is minstrely … maybe I missed it. I think it would have been nice to set it in Michigan, but maybe people like Davis’ reaction dissuaded that possibility seriously.

Also, I think the name Idlewild represents the condition of the place. Percival (Andre) was “idle” in his place in the town, while the Church represented a dynamic setting with almost a religious excuberance from its attendees and was often “wild”.

Storyline and Acting
I think the story line was solid. I didn’t expect to have a thriller or many plot twists, instead it was straight forward movie. One where the viewer is encouraged to suspended disbelief. As the film opens the cinematography moves you into the images of old and I felt there (in part) for the time in my seat. I think the script was written close enough to Big Boi and Andre’s characters that I didn’t feel uncomfortable with their acting, even though Faizon Love was a little over the top, but delivered some great quotables.

Time Travellin’
The times that I was taken out of the old occured via the music. If the film made me realize one thing, it is that Andre is a musical genius! I wanted to see how they blended hip-hop music and classic juke joints. I was kind of shocked honestly, most of the music performed in the film were tracks that Outkast had already done, with some very small alterations (i.e. no references to tapes, cds, baby please…). I coudn’t quite figure out why they didn’t remix more stuff or change up the messaging. My best explanation is that they were attempting to challenge our conceptions of time and the fluidity between the juke joint and the hip hop spot. Some of the music meshed seamlessly (Andre’s She Lives in my lap) while other moments felt odd (Big Boi rapping Church into the camera). The fluidity with with they treated time and progress was best represented by Percival’s room and his wall of clocks. Throughout the film I kept thinking of afrofuturism, but that may just be me seeing too much Andre in the film.

My Verdict
Overall I was impressed with the film. It was an ambitious and well executed. Of course there could have been things that were done better, but the overall project was pretty fresh. It’s what Carmen could have been (lol).

In high school I remember purchasing Brotherman: The Odyssey of Black men in America and reading part of Sterling Brown’s “Strong Men”. I was really moved by the poem’s opening stanzas and periodically I’m reminded of our path as Black men in this country. Lately I’ve been reading a number of popular press articles that discuss my alma mater Morehouse College. This past year we graduated our largest class ever. This past year we also had some former Men of Morehouse take the life of one of their brothers for a paultry amount of cash. I’m not one to romanticize reality, the stories juxtapose each other enough to let me know we have a long way to go. But I am one to look forward and attempt to highlight signs of progress. After all, when in a stake of peril if you don’t have vision, you’re likely destined to stay in that place. At the Association of Black Sociologists meeting I went to a panel on “The Crisis of the Black Male” and realized that people have been “sounding the alarm” part time for the past 20 some-odd years, but the response has been less than favorful. Well, I do believe that we Black men still are in a time of crisis, but this story did make me remember that sometimes progress, which is a slow process, can be seen sooner than you think.

So I was in Montreal this past week for the Association of Black Sociologists and the American Sociological Association meetings. The meetings went well, I got chance to see a number of people that I haven’t seen in a year or two and I got a chance to fish around for future opportunities (graduate school must come to an end).

The title of the post comes from my tour guide on the “Tour of Black Montreal”. Our tour guide was a 50 year old White man who was of French descent. I should have known the tour was going to be shady when he told us that he was going to give us “a standard” tour of Montreal and highlight some Black history. Well, for two hours, I sat on a bus, along with about 50 Black sociologists and we heard him randomly mention Black people. I learned that there are two Black communities in Montreal: the Black English and the Astians (that’s Haitian to you none French speakers ;) I also learned that the World Expo of ’67 changed his life and he met people from Africa and that the Africans loved the Expo so much they just decided to stay. I learned that lgbtq prefer to be called “sexual minorities” because it’s politically correct.

I also learned that there are no ghettos in Montreal, which is interesting. Well really interesting because my friend stayed in a “hotel” in the “red light district” and while walking her to her door, I saw two drug transactions, a fight, and we had to ask the resident prostitutes to move off the stoop so she could get in. Come to think of it, it does make sense there are no ghettos, cause there are no poor or homeless. After all, I learned from our guide that there are enough social services and that anyone I saw on the street (those who we in the States would consider homeless), wanted to be on the street. I mean even if it does get down to -37c (-34.6f) according to our tour guide. They just didn’t want to go into shelters. I guess the human condition is just different in Montreal.

Well maybe not, my friends came across “The Illuminated Crowd” Statue on McGill, it’s pretty intense.

A visitor to downtown Montreal almost can’?t help walking by a large sculptural group outside a bank building on McGill College Avenue. Called The Illuminated Crowd, the work is by the European artist, Raymond Masson, and it was installed in 1986. It’?s made of polyester resin painted a kind of vanilla yellow and itÂ?s a crowd, all right! Dozens of figures, from the frenzied to the serene, seem to jostle each other for a place on the sidewalk. According to the descriptive text, the piece deals with the nature of man, violence and hope and the quest for the ideal. According to this writer, it’?s one of those works that divide people into two groups Â? those who love it vs. those who hate it. Quote from Montreal Behind the scenes

Here are some more views of it (1,2,3,4). Well I’m back and still black at Michigan so I’m gonna get to working.

Update: I neglected to mention that at the close of the ABS conference we shared the hotel with Anthrofest aka a Furry convention. Now I wonder what my tour guide would have referred to them as???

It’s very common for anyone who visits me at my apartment to find me tuned into some unlikely TV programming. Well folks tend to think that I would be sitting and watching Eyes on the Prize and the Huey P Newton story on a loop, instead they find that I am still obsessed with reality TV. I can’t front, you’ll find me watching Project Runway, The Hills, The Real World (just kidding, that show is terrible), The Real Housewives of Orange County or something of that ilk. Recently a friend interviewed me about my media consumption habits and I had to verbalize what I like about the shows that I commonly watch. It’s always different when you say your thoughts aloud, maybe it’s nommo or that old testifying from church, but once it slipped out my lips, it became clear, kinda.

I usually watch reality TV for the gross displays of whiteness. I can’t resist it, it’s like watching a car crash on the side of the highway or rummaging through medicine cabinets. When you’re done doing what you’ve done you feel sorry that you did it and often feel like you’ve wasted your time. Well that’s not wholely the case. I realized that reality TV has given me access to the conspicuous consumption that is enjoyed by some sectors of society. I think it’s amazing/ridiculous that I can watch someone decide between an internship in Paris and spending the summer in Malibu with her boyfriend. With that said, I can’t stand shows like “The Fabulous Life” on VH1 (has anyone noticed it’s just a re-hashed Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous)which celebrates the material dimensions of privilege. I’m much more into watching Paris and Nicole struggle with understanding basic social functions. Okay, I know some of that is acting, but some of that stuff you can’t fake.

As a Black man in America, I can’t say I’ve had that many carefree days. Heck, it’s only 1pm and I’ve been thinking of where I have to go and how I’ll be received. As my homegirl once said to me, “Life must be really nice when you don’t have to worry about oppression.” Well, I think in a way, I get to see that otherside of the coin in “reality” tv, no matter how surreal it is.

Well I wanna thank everyone who dropped me a line of checking in. Very sweet of you, demonstrates that loved ones do exist, even if it takes me blogging about me to get folks filled in. The 24 hour cloud like I predicted was just that, about 24 hours of unease and discomfort. I’m back in Michigan and stepping one foot in front of the other. I’ll post more later, but in the meantime, check out Wendy Woods’ webpage in her campaign for mayor.* And get some good food for thought from my twin star J-Rod. And for all my Clerks II fans, “it’s okay, we’re taking it back.”

*This is not necessarily an endorsement of Woods, but I think you should check her out :)