I've always wondered why they call the day Christ was crucified "Good Friday."
Begs the question: Good for whom?
I still haven't see The Passion of The Christ because I can't get past the crucifixion, even the very idea of it. What a terrible way to die -- suffocating due to one's own weight or slowly dying from the physical shock, exhaustion or dehydration associated with it. What inhumane souls could have even conceived of such a way to kill someone?
I'm not the most well-versed Christian and I don't attend church regularly, but these virtues are not required to grasp the enormity of His sacrifice. For your salvation and mine.
Happy Easter. I can't quite get to the point of wishing anyone a "good" Good Friday, though.
This Is A Chance, This Is A Chance
This is a chance
This is a chance
Dance your way
Out of your constrictions
“One Nation Under A Groove,” Funkadelics
I knew it would happen sooner or later. I wondered how long the Democratic Primary could continue without facing the issue of race and how it shapes us and our experiences. For some reason, in the good ol’ U.S. of A., discussions of race are tantamount to discussing one’s salary, religion, or porn preferences. Senator Obama got caught at the intersection (crosshairs?) of race and religion, and he turned it back on America: Hey, we all do and say things that are racist.
Yeah, like I’m sure Bill Clinton has objected every time he heard some white southerner use the N-word.
But I’m glad it happened. Now we’re free to really talk about it – the fact that, yes, Barack Obama experiences this country differently –as do most African Americans – because we ARE African American. This is a chance to really talk about race and the fact that African Americans are no less American, no less patriotic, for pointing out racial inequities that occur even to this day -- Geraldine Ferraro, anyone? Was Michelle Obama any less an American, any less patriotic, when she pointed out that this was the first time in her adult life that she was proud of this country? Heck, my dad is an 82 year-old World War II vet, and I’m sure that the Obama campaign is the first time he’s been proud of this country in his adult life. Coming from the Depression-era Jim Crow south and serving in a racialized military, this country hasn’t given him much to be proud of. We’re rife with hypocrisy – sending black men to fight in the European theater to end facism, only to have them come home and have to fight for the same freedom they helped secure for whites abroad. The American experience is not monolithic, and there’s a lot to not be proud of. And saying so doesn’t make any of us less American or any less patriotic. The white race-free experience is not the only one.
Rev. Jeremiah Wright’s sermon, looped interminably on YouTube, opens the door to having this frank conversation. And we shouldn’t fear it. It is an opportunity to “dance our way out of our constrictions,” i.e., the false construct that race doesn’t and shouldn’t matter and that to discuss race is to create differences instead of just acknowledging them. The only times in my life when I have been free of dealing with the race thing is when I’ve been somewhere where blacks are in the majority and I could pass for as long as I kept my mouth shut – Jamaica, Bahamas, St. Lucia.
Think about the irony of all this. Now everyone wants to know exactly what goes on in black churches. One white woman commented yesterday on NPR that she didn't feel welcome in the Black church (BTW, there are many black churches -- Baptist, Church of God in Christ, Catholic, African Methodist Episcopal, Apostolic, even African Orthodox Church of Saint John Coltrane -- but I digress). But we didn’t create black churches per se. Black churches were all that we were allowed to have because we weren’t allowed to worship with whites in this country at its inception. Where whites created subordination, now they see subversion. How rich is that?
And if you really want to know what happens in black churches, attend one. As the pastor who performed my wedding ceremony, Rev. Harris, said, “Black people spend more time in church than white folks because we have more issues to work out.” True that. When you consistently occupy the subordinate position in society, when you are constantly defined as “the other” and “what not to be,” when you are consistently shown the back hand of the law, well, if that doesn’t put you at the altar on a regular basis as a Black person, you’re probably self-medicating or in denial.
As I used to say when I lived in Mississippi, “Jesus saves, because white folks don’t even have a clue that the only thing keeping black folks from beating them down when the do and say racist things IS Jesus.”
Can I say that and not be a racist? Can we at least have the discussion without me being called a racist or less patriotic?
And now that we have race on the table, so to speak, memo to the Obama campaign: Now that you can’t deny the role of race in America and in this campaign, can we please change the campaign theme song to “One Nation Under A Groove”? Because even with our embedded racism, sexism, classism and other isms, at the end of the day, we are, with all our flaws, still just one nation.
Besides, I can’t help but smile when I think of a President Obama ending his first press conference with the line, “Giving you more of what you’re funkin’ for . . . “ Might be too much to hope for.
To quote another great George Clinton song, “Free you mind, and your ass will follow.”
This is a chance
Dance your way
Out of your constrictions
“One Nation Under A Groove,” Funkadelics
I knew it would happen sooner or later. I wondered how long the Democratic Primary could continue without facing the issue of race and how it shapes us and our experiences. For some reason, in the good ol’ U.S. of A., discussions of race are tantamount to discussing one’s salary, religion, or porn preferences. Senator Obama got caught at the intersection (crosshairs?) of race and religion, and he turned it back on America: Hey, we all do and say things that are racist.
Yeah, like I’m sure Bill Clinton has objected every time he heard some white southerner use the N-word.
But I’m glad it happened. Now we’re free to really talk about it – the fact that, yes, Barack Obama experiences this country differently –as do most African Americans – because we ARE African American. This is a chance to really talk about race and the fact that African Americans are no less American, no less patriotic, for pointing out racial inequities that occur even to this day -- Geraldine Ferraro, anyone? Was Michelle Obama any less an American, any less patriotic, when she pointed out that this was the first time in her adult life that she was proud of this country? Heck, my dad is an 82 year-old World War II vet, and I’m sure that the Obama campaign is the first time he’s been proud of this country in his adult life. Coming from the Depression-era Jim Crow south and serving in a racialized military, this country hasn’t given him much to be proud of. We’re rife with hypocrisy – sending black men to fight in the European theater to end facism, only to have them come home and have to fight for the same freedom they helped secure for whites abroad. The American experience is not monolithic, and there’s a lot to not be proud of. And saying so doesn’t make any of us less American or any less patriotic. The white race-free experience is not the only one.
Rev. Jeremiah Wright’s sermon, looped interminably on YouTube, opens the door to having this frank conversation. And we shouldn’t fear it. It is an opportunity to “dance our way out of our constrictions,” i.e., the false construct that race doesn’t and shouldn’t matter and that to discuss race is to create differences instead of just acknowledging them. The only times in my life when I have been free of dealing with the race thing is when I’ve been somewhere where blacks are in the majority and I could pass for as long as I kept my mouth shut – Jamaica, Bahamas, St. Lucia.
Think about the irony of all this. Now everyone wants to know exactly what goes on in black churches. One white woman commented yesterday on NPR that she didn't feel welcome in the Black church (BTW, there are many black churches -- Baptist, Church of God in Christ, Catholic, African Methodist Episcopal, Apostolic, even African Orthodox Church of Saint John Coltrane -- but I digress). But we didn’t create black churches per se. Black churches were all that we were allowed to have because we weren’t allowed to worship with whites in this country at its inception. Where whites created subordination, now they see subversion. How rich is that?
And if you really want to know what happens in black churches, attend one. As the pastor who performed my wedding ceremony, Rev. Harris, said, “Black people spend more time in church than white folks because we have more issues to work out.” True that. When you consistently occupy the subordinate position in society, when you are constantly defined as “the other” and “what not to be,” when you are consistently shown the back hand of the law, well, if that doesn’t put you at the altar on a regular basis as a Black person, you’re probably self-medicating or in denial.
As I used to say when I lived in Mississippi, “Jesus saves, because white folks don’t even have a clue that the only thing keeping black folks from beating them down when the do and say racist things IS Jesus.”
Can I say that and not be a racist? Can we at least have the discussion without me being called a racist or less patriotic?
And now that we have race on the table, so to speak, memo to the Obama campaign: Now that you can’t deny the role of race in America and in this campaign, can we please change the campaign theme song to “One Nation Under A Groove”? Because even with our embedded racism, sexism, classism and other isms, at the end of the day, we are, with all our flaws, still just one nation.
Besides, I can’t help but smile when I think of a President Obama ending his first press conference with the line, “Giving you more of what you’re funkin’ for . . . “ Might be too much to hope for.
To quote another great George Clinton song, “Free you mind, and your ass will follow.”
Memo to the DNC: The Solution Is Not That Hard; Even Two Ivy League-Educated Lawyers Should Be Able To Figure It Out
Howard Dean is nervous, as well he should be. The prospect of a Clinton-Obama slugfest going well into April while John McCain sits back and watches is not a happy thought, especially when the Democratic Party has the makings of a Dream Team ticket.
One only need pay attention to the total numbers of voters participating in the Democratic primaries versus those participating in the Republican primaries to see the almost 2-1 margin Democrats have in sheer numbers of voters. It would be a shame if any of these energized voters sat on their hands in November.
Well, it doesn’t have to be that way. The solution is so simple, even two Ivy League-educated lawyers should be able to figure it out.
Clinton and Obama should agree to run together. The candidate who wins the most number of pledged delegates (delegates won as a result of primary and caucus voting) should be at the top of the ticket. The superdelegates should only anoint as the presidential candidate the candidate who won the most delegates. No do-over in Michigan and Florida, and those delegates should not be seated.
Game freakin’over.
Think the big wigs at the DNC can figure this out?
One only need pay attention to the total numbers of voters participating in the Democratic primaries versus those participating in the Republican primaries to see the almost 2-1 margin Democrats have in sheer numbers of voters. It would be a shame if any of these energized voters sat on their hands in November.
Well, it doesn’t have to be that way. The solution is so simple, even two Ivy League-educated lawyers should be able to figure it out.
Clinton and Obama should agree to run together. The candidate who wins the most number of pledged delegates (delegates won as a result of primary and caucus voting) should be at the top of the ticket. The superdelegates should only anoint as the presidential candidate the candidate who won the most delegates. No do-over in Michigan and Florida, and those delegates should not be seated.
Game freakin’over.
Think the big wigs at the DNC can figure this out?
The Fact Is (I Need You) (With Apologies to Jill Scott)
And even though I can do all of these things by myself,
I need you . .
“The Fact Is (I Need You)” by Jill Scott
Welcome back, Hillary. With a little negative campaigning and fear mongering, you managed to revive a campaign that was on life support. I may not admire your methods, but I do admire your tenacity. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you’ve been reading my blog. You’re now describing yourself as a fighter, and you’re stating that the campaign is a job interview. Yep, you’re so cribbing my blog. But I ain’t mad at you.
And I hear you made an effort to reach out to Obama, saying you’d be happy to have him on the ticket. As Vice President.
Of course you would. Because you can’t beat John McCain by yourself, and you can’t draw the same number of voters by yourself. But a Clinton/Obama ticket? Priceless.
So, to borrow from a Jill Scott song, the fact is, you need him.
But have you thought that perhaps the fact that you need him means that you should be the Vice President on the ticket?
Just a thought.
I need you . .
“The Fact Is (I Need You)” by Jill Scott
Welcome back, Hillary. With a little negative campaigning and fear mongering, you managed to revive a campaign that was on life support. I may not admire your methods, but I do admire your tenacity. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you’ve been reading my blog. You’re now describing yourself as a fighter, and you’re stating that the campaign is a job interview. Yep, you’re so cribbing my blog. But I ain’t mad at you.
And I hear you made an effort to reach out to Obama, saying you’d be happy to have him on the ticket. As Vice President.
Of course you would. Because you can’t beat John McCain by yourself, and you can’t draw the same number of voters by yourself. But a Clinton/Obama ticket? Priceless.
So, to borrow from a Jill Scott song, the fact is, you need him.
But have you thought that perhaps the fact that you need him means that you should be the Vice President on the ticket?
Just a thought.
I Am SWIE And She Is Me
“Don’t you ever get tired?”, I said to BMNB recently while we were out on our weekly grocery run.
“Tired of what?”
“Tired of struggling. No matter how far ahead we get, it seems some new problem always pops up. We’re always struggling, and I don’t feel like we’re getting anywhere. I know I’m tired.”
“Nope.”
“No?”, I responded in what almost amounted to horror.
“No,” he replied calmly. Before turning the ignition on, he turned to me. “We are blessed. We are REALLY blessed.” And he started the car.
Funny, I wasn’t really feeling blessed. It was the near the end of the month, and once again I had more month than money. Our bills, unexpected expenses, and the impact of tax decisions not of my making on my own bottom line have been wearing on me for quite a while. I don’t like debt, and the fact that I have more of it than I’m comfortable with, as a result of some stupid decisions I made and some stupid decisions I was subject to, was weighing me down. The more I thought about where I thought I would be at this point in my life compared to where I am, the more I wanted to give Prozac its proper consideration.
But I thought about it. We really ARE blessed.
We both have pretty secure jobs in an increasingly shaky economy.
We’re well educated, which means that even if we were to lose our jobs, we could probably find new ones.
We’re healthy, aside from a few aches and pains from getting older and sleeping on a cheap mattress (it was supposed to be a substitute until our bed arrived from Denver, which has not happened yet).
We have each other.
And, I have the fortitude of my mother, even when I don’t realize it.
I had to stop and get a grip: Most of the problems I’m facing are nothing compared to the problems my mother, SWIE, had faced by my same age. I didn’t give birth to six kids and have three miscarriages. I have never had cancer – she had it once and would ultimately lose her second battle with it. I’ve never lost a house. I’ve never been on welfare. I’ve never had to have my husband leave the household so that I could qualify for welfare to feed my kids. I’ve only once been financially dependent on my husband, and I swore I would never, ever let that happen again. My husband doesn’t drink, doesn’t gamble, and has never hit me (although if he did, I would put his ass in the ground. Don’t get it twisted – I’m of the opinion that the cure for domestic violence is target practice at the gun range, although there are a lot of sisters on lockdown who share this same belief).
I don’t have to put dinner for eight on the table seven days a week. I don’t have to care for an ailing parent, at least not yet. I don’t have to live through the agonizing realization that your mind is slowing failing you and your memories are fading into an Alzheimer’s haze, at least not yet.
Yet it was my mother who told me, when I faced what was then the greatest defeat in my life – failing the California bar exam – that, “Okay, we all get knocked down sometime. And you can lay down there for a minute. But then you gotta get up.”
At the time I thought she just couldn’t comprehend what I was going through. My job and career were on the line, I was tens of thousands of dollars in debt for student loans, I had to tell my boss and my colleagues that I had failed, and I had no idea where I went wrong with that damn exam anyway.
But yes she did understand. She understood that I was her child, that because I was her child that I was as strong as she was, and that what I was facing, in the panoply of problems worth worrying over, wasn’t nuthin’. The bar exam – that can be passed. Losing your uterus to cancer – now, THAT’s a real problem.
Armed with my mother’s admonishment that I had to get up, I did. I reduced the materials for the California Bar Exam to 3,600 flash cards, of which I had committed 3,400 to memory by the time of the exam. I studied like a fiend, forsaking good hygiene, sleep, and nutritional meals.
And I passed. When I look back, I can’t help but to think that at that time I had absolutely no idea what real problems were. And perhaps I still don’t.
So, bills? That I can deal with. Living in a rental when I had hoped to be in my own home by now? No biggie. At least I have a roof over my head.
Because I am SWIE and she is me. And this problem stuff? We got this on lock.
Footnote: Shortly after my solo pity party, I received an unexpected check in the mail from my electric utility saying I had overpaid them, I received a reimbursement check from work that I wasn't expecting for another week, and I found $8 on the ground when I was out walking my dog. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that SWIE and God are in cahoots.
“Tired of what?”
“Tired of struggling. No matter how far ahead we get, it seems some new problem always pops up. We’re always struggling, and I don’t feel like we’re getting anywhere. I know I’m tired.”
“Nope.”
“No?”, I responded in what almost amounted to horror.
“No,” he replied calmly. Before turning the ignition on, he turned to me. “We are blessed. We are REALLY blessed.” And he started the car.
Funny, I wasn’t really feeling blessed. It was the near the end of the month, and once again I had more month than money. Our bills, unexpected expenses, and the impact of tax decisions not of my making on my own bottom line have been wearing on me for quite a while. I don’t like debt, and the fact that I have more of it than I’m comfortable with, as a result of some stupid decisions I made and some stupid decisions I was subject to, was weighing me down. The more I thought about where I thought I would be at this point in my life compared to where I am, the more I wanted to give Prozac its proper consideration.
But I thought about it. We really ARE blessed.
We both have pretty secure jobs in an increasingly shaky economy.
We’re well educated, which means that even if we were to lose our jobs, we could probably find new ones.
We’re healthy, aside from a few aches and pains from getting older and sleeping on a cheap mattress (it was supposed to be a substitute until our bed arrived from Denver, which has not happened yet).
We have each other.
And, I have the fortitude of my mother, even when I don’t realize it.
I had to stop and get a grip: Most of the problems I’m facing are nothing compared to the problems my mother, SWIE, had faced by my same age. I didn’t give birth to six kids and have three miscarriages. I have never had cancer – she had it once and would ultimately lose her second battle with it. I’ve never lost a house. I’ve never been on welfare. I’ve never had to have my husband leave the household so that I could qualify for welfare to feed my kids. I’ve only once been financially dependent on my husband, and I swore I would never, ever let that happen again. My husband doesn’t drink, doesn’t gamble, and has never hit me (although if he did, I would put his ass in the ground. Don’t get it twisted – I’m of the opinion that the cure for domestic violence is target practice at the gun range, although there are a lot of sisters on lockdown who share this same belief).
I don’t have to put dinner for eight on the table seven days a week. I don’t have to care for an ailing parent, at least not yet. I don’t have to live through the agonizing realization that your mind is slowing failing you and your memories are fading into an Alzheimer’s haze, at least not yet.
Yet it was my mother who told me, when I faced what was then the greatest defeat in my life – failing the California bar exam – that, “Okay, we all get knocked down sometime. And you can lay down there for a minute. But then you gotta get up.”
At the time I thought she just couldn’t comprehend what I was going through. My job and career were on the line, I was tens of thousands of dollars in debt for student loans, I had to tell my boss and my colleagues that I had failed, and I had no idea where I went wrong with that damn exam anyway.
But yes she did understand. She understood that I was her child, that because I was her child that I was as strong as she was, and that what I was facing, in the panoply of problems worth worrying over, wasn’t nuthin’. The bar exam – that can be passed. Losing your uterus to cancer – now, THAT’s a real problem.
Armed with my mother’s admonishment that I had to get up, I did. I reduced the materials for the California Bar Exam to 3,600 flash cards, of which I had committed 3,400 to memory by the time of the exam. I studied like a fiend, forsaking good hygiene, sleep, and nutritional meals.
And I passed. When I look back, I can’t help but to think that at that time I had absolutely no idea what real problems were. And perhaps I still don’t.
So, bills? That I can deal with. Living in a rental when I had hoped to be in my own home by now? No biggie. At least I have a roof over my head.
Because I am SWIE and she is me. And this problem stuff? We got this on lock.
Footnote: Shortly after my solo pity party, I received an unexpected check in the mail from my electric utility saying I had overpaid them, I received a reimbursement check from work that I wasn't expecting for another week, and I found $8 on the ground when I was out walking my dog. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that SWIE and God are in cahoots.
We Are The Achievement Gap
I recently read in my local newspaper that a group of African American parents was forming what they called a “parallel school board” to monitor efforts to decrease the achievement gap of African American children in one of the local public schools. Although I applaud their efforts, I think they’re misguided.
I’m about to say something that I think will be highly unpopular in the African American community, but it needs to be said.
We are the achievement gap, not the schools. We don’t value education enough to inculcate educational achievement throughout a child’s home life. Before you can dress down the government for the achievement gap, we have to address what is happening in children’s homes such that they are not achieving.
There. I said it. And here’s why I said it: The government doesn’t have an obligation to educate our children; the government only has an obligation to provide the means by which children can achieve an education. Whether or not a child is achieving and gets a good education is the sole responsibility of parents because only parents have a true interest in the outcome.
The education of our children is far too important to leave to the government, because the government doesn’t have an interest in the education of our children. Sure, there are dedicated teachers and administrators and some well meaning policy wonks in local, state and federal government, but, overall, the government doesn’t have an interest in the outcomes of our kids. And trying to make the government more accountable to our children while they continue to languish is a waste of time and energy that we don’t have as our children fall further behind.
I challenge you to find an underachieving child of any race in a two-parent family where the parents read to the children, supplement their education with books, music lessons, tutoring if necessary, and language lessons, engage them in critical thinking over dinner, expect – not just hope – they will attend college (and not on an athletic scholarship – don’t get me started!), and expose them to cultural activities such as dance, travel, and museums.
You see, education starts in the home. And it isn’t just reading, writing and math. It’s anything that enhances critical thinking skills and cultural exposure, whether it’s playing board games instead of video games, learning to read music instead of just listening to music, and discussing history and politics during dinner. And, no, education is not just job training writ large; it is preparation to survive in a constantly changing world by understanding how it works.
So before we go hanging responsibility for the achievement gap on the government, especially since the government will do nothing more but placate us anyway, we need to ask – what are we doing in our homes to educate our children? Because education is more than simply sending your child off to school with a bag lunch and an admonishment to learn. I think parents have to educate themselves enough to know what their children should be learning and when, and then they must make sure that, even if the schools fail to teach their children, that they themselves step in and fill the gap, whether it’s through tutoring or teaching their children themselves. That requires that parents know what their kids need to learn to achieve, which means parents have to educated enough in order to know how their children should be educated. Education can’t be a “do as I say, not as I do,” kind of thing. If it’s that important, parents need to first educate themselves, not only to be stewards of their children’s education, but to demonstrate to their children that education is that important that it is worth reaching for no matter one’s age or stage in life.
So, I would urge the “Parallel School Board” to ask the following questions of interested parents:
1. Do you know what reading and math skills your child should master this year? Do you have those skills? If not, are you prepared to get them so that you can help your child get them,too?
2. Do both parents communicate the importance of education to the children?
3. Is your child’s home life stable? If not, what are you doing to provide a stable home life?
4. Do you have at least a high school diploma and, if not, do you plan to get one?
5. Does your child have too many responsibilities at home that take away from learning?
6. Does your child have a quiet place to study? Access to a computer?
7. Do you take the time to find out what children in high achieving schools at the same grade level as your child are studying and make sure that your child is studying the same thing, even if it means learning those things outside of the assigned curriculum at your child's school?
8. Do you require your child to read books beyond those assigned in school?
9. Do you know what courses your child will have to take to be prepared for college – and no, a high school diploma is NOT preparation for college – and have you made sure they are prepared to take those courses?
10. Do you limit television viewing, internet use, and video game playing by your children in your home?
11. Do you discuss world events with your child?
12. Do you supplement what they study in history and social science with culturally and historically accurate readings?
13. Do you read the newspaper and do you make your child read the newspaper?
14. Do you make your child write beyond what is assigned in school?
15. Do you provide music lessons for your child?
16. Do you ask your school for summer reading lists for your child? Do you make your child do summer reading?
17. Do you encourage your child to get involved in educational extracurricular activities such as chess club, debate team, ACT-SO, marching band, Spanish club, etc.?
18. Do you take your child to the library? Does he or she have a library card?
19. Do you read the books your child is assigned to read for English and discuss the books with them?
20. Do you play board games with your child?
21. Do you expose your child to cultural activities, e.g., Alvin Ailey Dance Theater, the ballet, repertory theater, museums?
22. Do you make sure that your child learns at least one other language other than English? Do you learn the language with your child so he or she can have someone to practice with at home?
These are tough questions. And not all of these actions require money, but they do require time, and a library card at the least. We can talk later about supporting parents in their efforts to be stewards of their children's education by including family members, neighbors, mentors, etc., but first, parents have to accept that they are indeed the stewards of their children's education, not the schools. To ask a school board to be accountable for the achievement gap without examining what parents themselves are doing seems incongruous to me, especially since uneducated and underachieving children don’t end up living in the basement at the school board office as adults.
I have a dream. I dream that African American parents will start an educational movement that won’t be dependent on public schools but instead dependent on African American parents and communities creating a free and publicly available curriculum such that African American children can be educated better than their counterparts. A movement that will not only eliminate the achievement gap, but create one in which African American children are the overachievers, putting a gap between themselves and others. But it all starts at home. Most revolutions do.
I’m about to say something that I think will be highly unpopular in the African American community, but it needs to be said.
We are the achievement gap, not the schools. We don’t value education enough to inculcate educational achievement throughout a child’s home life. Before you can dress down the government for the achievement gap, we have to address what is happening in children’s homes such that they are not achieving.
There. I said it. And here’s why I said it: The government doesn’t have an obligation to educate our children; the government only has an obligation to provide the means by which children can achieve an education. Whether or not a child is achieving and gets a good education is the sole responsibility of parents because only parents have a true interest in the outcome.
The education of our children is far too important to leave to the government, because the government doesn’t have an interest in the education of our children. Sure, there are dedicated teachers and administrators and some well meaning policy wonks in local, state and federal government, but, overall, the government doesn’t have an interest in the outcomes of our kids. And trying to make the government more accountable to our children while they continue to languish is a waste of time and energy that we don’t have as our children fall further behind.
I challenge you to find an underachieving child of any race in a two-parent family where the parents read to the children, supplement their education with books, music lessons, tutoring if necessary, and language lessons, engage them in critical thinking over dinner, expect – not just hope – they will attend college (and not on an athletic scholarship – don’t get me started!), and expose them to cultural activities such as dance, travel, and museums.
You see, education starts in the home. And it isn’t just reading, writing and math. It’s anything that enhances critical thinking skills and cultural exposure, whether it’s playing board games instead of video games, learning to read music instead of just listening to music, and discussing history and politics during dinner. And, no, education is not just job training writ large; it is preparation to survive in a constantly changing world by understanding how it works.
So before we go hanging responsibility for the achievement gap on the government, especially since the government will do nothing more but placate us anyway, we need to ask – what are we doing in our homes to educate our children? Because education is more than simply sending your child off to school with a bag lunch and an admonishment to learn. I think parents have to educate themselves enough to know what their children should be learning and when, and then they must make sure that, even if the schools fail to teach their children, that they themselves step in and fill the gap, whether it’s through tutoring or teaching their children themselves. That requires that parents know what their kids need to learn to achieve, which means parents have to educated enough in order to know how their children should be educated. Education can’t be a “do as I say, not as I do,” kind of thing. If it’s that important, parents need to first educate themselves, not only to be stewards of their children’s education, but to demonstrate to their children that education is that important that it is worth reaching for no matter one’s age or stage in life.
So, I would urge the “Parallel School Board” to ask the following questions of interested parents:
1. Do you know what reading and math skills your child should master this year? Do you have those skills? If not, are you prepared to get them so that you can help your child get them,too?
2. Do both parents communicate the importance of education to the children?
3. Is your child’s home life stable? If not, what are you doing to provide a stable home life?
4. Do you have at least a high school diploma and, if not, do you plan to get one?
5. Does your child have too many responsibilities at home that take away from learning?
6. Does your child have a quiet place to study? Access to a computer?
7. Do you take the time to find out what children in high achieving schools at the same grade level as your child are studying and make sure that your child is studying the same thing, even if it means learning those things outside of the assigned curriculum at your child's school?
8. Do you require your child to read books beyond those assigned in school?
9. Do you know what courses your child will have to take to be prepared for college – and no, a high school diploma is NOT preparation for college – and have you made sure they are prepared to take those courses?
10. Do you limit television viewing, internet use, and video game playing by your children in your home?
11. Do you discuss world events with your child?
12. Do you supplement what they study in history and social science with culturally and historically accurate readings?
13. Do you read the newspaper and do you make your child read the newspaper?
14. Do you make your child write beyond what is assigned in school?
15. Do you provide music lessons for your child?
16. Do you ask your school for summer reading lists for your child? Do you make your child do summer reading?
17. Do you encourage your child to get involved in educational extracurricular activities such as chess club, debate team, ACT-SO, marching band, Spanish club, etc.?
18. Do you take your child to the library? Does he or she have a library card?
19. Do you read the books your child is assigned to read for English and discuss the books with them?
20. Do you play board games with your child?
21. Do you expose your child to cultural activities, e.g., Alvin Ailey Dance Theater, the ballet, repertory theater, museums?
22. Do you make sure that your child learns at least one other language other than English? Do you learn the language with your child so he or she can have someone to practice with at home?
These are tough questions. And not all of these actions require money, but they do require time, and a library card at the least. We can talk later about supporting parents in their efforts to be stewards of their children's education by including family members, neighbors, mentors, etc., but first, parents have to accept that they are indeed the stewards of their children's education, not the schools. To ask a school board to be accountable for the achievement gap without examining what parents themselves are doing seems incongruous to me, especially since uneducated and underachieving children don’t end up living in the basement at the school board office as adults.
I have a dream. I dream that African American parents will start an educational movement that won’t be dependent on public schools but instead dependent on African American parents and communities creating a free and publicly available curriculum such that African American children can be educated better than their counterparts. A movement that will not only eliminate the achievement gap, but create one in which African American children are the overachievers, putting a gap between themselves and others. But it all starts at home. Most revolutions do.
Memo to Hillary: Sit down, shut up, and listen.
When I was a law clerk, one of my co-clerks, a white guy, would occasionally get besides himself and proceed to lecture my judge, an elderly African American man, on a fine point of law. On one occasion, he actually chose one area of law – qualified immunity – about which my judge was not only an expert, having served as a former U.S. Attorney, but an authority, having written the decision in a seminal case on that matter. I sat and watched this smug, self-important guy proceed to lecture someone almost four times his age about the state of the law of qualified immunity. It was like watching someone take a long, slow swan dive into a bonfire. Finally my judge, who had run out of patience (as most eighty year-olds tend to do, since they’re short on time, too), told my colleague: “Boy, sit down, shut up, and listen. You might just learn something.” He then corrected my colleague, who not only had had the temerity to lecture my judge, but had gotten the law wrong, too.
Watching my co-clerk back then is kinda like watching the Clinton campaign now. Although this will be my -- what, third missive? -- to Hillary, Inc. (as her former campaign staff was referred to in More magazine), in the interest of having a full and robust Democratic primary, I will simply say to Senator Clinton: Girl, sit down, shut up, and listen. You might just learn something. Mind you, I’m no campaign operative or political consultant, but I know what I know. And what I know is your campaign is running like a used Yugo on fumes.
First, let’s start with what’s not working with your campaign:
1. The “A” factor – authenticity. Simply put, you don’t have it. Or at least you’re perceived not to have it. The common perception is that you will do anything and say anything to get elected, and that your strategy is simply to find the right set of advisers to hit on that perfect thing for you to say in order to get elected. Girl, you need to fire the folks feeding you those tired lines about experience (since you fail to substantiate what you did during those 35 years) and catty comments about Obama (“Change we can Xerox?” Puleeze.) It’s time to channel whatever it was that made you a success at Wellesley, Yale Law School, and beyond. You need to find your authentic message and stick with it. A message that tells people why you’re the better candidate by communicating something about the qualities that made you a success. And a song wouldn’t hurt, either. More on that later.
2. The “N” factor – negativity. Girl, it so ain’t working for you. Every time you go negative on Obama, you just confirm the worst feelings that your detractors have. You need to accentuate YOUR positives, not Obama’s negatives. The more you try to bring him down, the lower you sink yourself.
3. Cuttin’ and runnin”. I’ve noticed that when you’ve faced an unexpected and/or overwhelming defeat in a state, you leave before sundown and move on to the next state like it never happened. Being a woman means standing your ground in victory AND in defeat, taking and rolling with the punches. It also means thanking your troops publicly and acknowledging your competitor’s success. Even boys in Little League shake hands with the opposing team after a loss. Anything else just belies what white folks would call poor sportsmanship, or what some black folks would call a stank attitude.
4. Kill Bill. Yep, I said it. You need to channel The Bride, Uma Thurman or whoever and Kill Bill (Nope, I didn’t see either movie.) Obama hit the nail on the head when he said he didn’t know who he was running against. You can’t be perceived to be relying on Bill to win. There’s a sizeable amount of the American populace that doesn’t want a “Clinton Restoration.” You need to heed that.
5. The “H” factor – humility. Thought you’d have this thing sewn up by Super Tuesday, now did ya? Psych! Even if that’s what you and/or your handlers thought, you should have never said it. Smacks of hubris. And, to make matters worse, it doesn’t even appear as if you had a Plan B, as if you thought there was no way Obama could knock you out of the game. Well, Hill, you’ve been served – a plate of crow with some humble pie for desert. You need to eat it and learn from it. Humility will go a long, long way. Elections are not won from the top down; they’re won from the bottom up, but the people on the bottom don’t want to feel like they’re being looked down on. You only need to look at the Obama campaign structure to see that.
6. Campaigning like you have balls. A woman who campaigns like she has balls ends up looking like a hermaphrodite. That ain’t pretty. You can be forceful, assertive and effective without trying to ape men. To wit: Oprah.
7. Stepford campaigning. You appear too scripted and stiff. Loosen up, girl!
Okay, let’s talk about what you do have going for you:
1. The Latino vote, at least for now.
2. The working class vote, at least for now.
3. The older women’s vote, at least for now.
4. Lukewarm and waning support from labor.
Now, let’s talk about how you’re going to leverage what you’ve got to get what you want:
1. Your message: One of the political commentators on CNN hit on it yesterday, even if your handlers didn’t: You’re a fighter, and you fight for what you believe in. Now, I can’t claim to have seen your campaign commercials here in California, but you need to convey that you’ve never backed down from a fight, whether it’s taking on a sitting U.S. Senator in your commencement speech at Wellesley, as a student activist fighting for black student admissions, speaking truth to power as counsel to the House Judiciary Committee during Watergate, fighting for migrant workers, etc. Your next commercial should have a montage of photos of you in these roles, with phrases describing each of your fights and successes – SCHip, Legal Services, House Judiciary Committee, migrant workers, child abuse, Children’s Defense Fund, etc. – a literal and visual cascade of your accomplishments over 35 years rolling throughout the screen with the song, “I’ll Stand By You” – the Patti LaBelle version – playing in the background, all grinding to a halt with a black screen with the tag line in white: Passionate enough to stand up for you; Experienced enough to win. Hillary for President.
2. Don’t concede any group, especially those that were in your base. You need to go back to those groups that were in your base – white women, African Americans – and talk in relatable language and fight for their votes as cheaply as possible, perhaps by having an internet chat on iVillage.com or BlackVoices.com while maintaining the support you already have. Think of it as two jobs – in-person campaigning by day, live internet campaigning at night. As Tim Gunn says, “Make it work.”
3. Talk less, respond more. You need to be less scripted, with fewer canned lines. You need to speak to the concerns of voters as voiced by them, and talk about the why of what you’re doing – why you chose the path you did and how it’s lead you here; what you have to offer – the perspective of more than half of the world’s population, which has never been fully reflected in the Oval Office. You might even humanize yourself a bit more, describing yourself as a menopausal sixty-something who, like most Americans, knows we can do better.
4. Use ordinary, grassroots people to get your message out and fund your campaign. You need real people talking about you at your rallies, not celebrities or politicos. People whose lives have been changed by something you took a stand on. You also need to harness them for fundraising, whether it’s Bake Sales for Hillary, Garage Sales for Hillary, Burrito Sales for Hillary, Catfish Dinner Sales for Hillary, etc, and put them and their photos on your website. You need to put the big money donors and Hollywood folks down and raise funds a dollar at a time from a groundswell of grassroots folks.
5. You need to own your error in supporting the Iraq War. And it’s easy – you could simply say that, having lived through Watergate and as a former counsel to the Senate Judiciary Committee, you could not have imagined that a president would intentionally mislead people on an issue of national security (and emphasize the "on an issue of national security" part since Bill did lie about Monica) because surely there were too many checks and balances in the White House to let that happen. You also need to say that you would no longer give any President the benefit of the doubt, nor would you expect Congress or the American people to do the same if you were president.
6. Do not – and I repeat, DO NOT – even think about trying to seat the Florida and Michigan delegations. It smacks of game playing. I don’t think you’d even have a shot of being on the ticket if you did that and lost.
7. Along those lines, do not try to win this by having the superdelegates put you over. If you don’t win by pledged delegates, you need to be gracious and acknowledge Obama as the winner. History will reward you later.
Okay, Hill, I hope you were listening. Now fire your staff and get to work.
Watching my co-clerk back then is kinda like watching the Clinton campaign now. Although this will be my -- what, third missive? -- to Hillary, Inc. (as her former campaign staff was referred to in More magazine), in the interest of having a full and robust Democratic primary, I will simply say to Senator Clinton: Girl, sit down, shut up, and listen. You might just learn something. Mind you, I’m no campaign operative or political consultant, but I know what I know. And what I know is your campaign is running like a used Yugo on fumes.
First, let’s start with what’s not working with your campaign:
1. The “A” factor – authenticity. Simply put, you don’t have it. Or at least you’re perceived not to have it. The common perception is that you will do anything and say anything to get elected, and that your strategy is simply to find the right set of advisers to hit on that perfect thing for you to say in order to get elected. Girl, you need to fire the folks feeding you those tired lines about experience (since you fail to substantiate what you did during those 35 years) and catty comments about Obama (“Change we can Xerox?” Puleeze.) It’s time to channel whatever it was that made you a success at Wellesley, Yale Law School, and beyond. You need to find your authentic message and stick with it. A message that tells people why you’re the better candidate by communicating something about the qualities that made you a success. And a song wouldn’t hurt, either. More on that later.
2. The “N” factor – negativity. Girl, it so ain’t working for you. Every time you go negative on Obama, you just confirm the worst feelings that your detractors have. You need to accentuate YOUR positives, not Obama’s negatives. The more you try to bring him down, the lower you sink yourself.
3. Cuttin’ and runnin”. I’ve noticed that when you’ve faced an unexpected and/or overwhelming defeat in a state, you leave before sundown and move on to the next state like it never happened. Being a woman means standing your ground in victory AND in defeat, taking and rolling with the punches. It also means thanking your troops publicly and acknowledging your competitor’s success. Even boys in Little League shake hands with the opposing team after a loss. Anything else just belies what white folks would call poor sportsmanship, or what some black folks would call a stank attitude.
4. Kill Bill. Yep, I said it. You need to channel The Bride, Uma Thurman or whoever and Kill Bill (Nope, I didn’t see either movie.) Obama hit the nail on the head when he said he didn’t know who he was running against. You can’t be perceived to be relying on Bill to win. There’s a sizeable amount of the American populace that doesn’t want a “Clinton Restoration.” You need to heed that.
5. The “H” factor – humility. Thought you’d have this thing sewn up by Super Tuesday, now did ya? Psych! Even if that’s what you and/or your handlers thought, you should have never said it. Smacks of hubris. And, to make matters worse, it doesn’t even appear as if you had a Plan B, as if you thought there was no way Obama could knock you out of the game. Well, Hill, you’ve been served – a plate of crow with some humble pie for desert. You need to eat it and learn from it. Humility will go a long, long way. Elections are not won from the top down; they’re won from the bottom up, but the people on the bottom don’t want to feel like they’re being looked down on. You only need to look at the Obama campaign structure to see that.
6. Campaigning like you have balls. A woman who campaigns like she has balls ends up looking like a hermaphrodite. That ain’t pretty. You can be forceful, assertive and effective without trying to ape men. To wit: Oprah.
7. Stepford campaigning. You appear too scripted and stiff. Loosen up, girl!
Okay, let’s talk about what you do have going for you:
1. The Latino vote, at least for now.
2. The working class vote, at least for now.
3. The older women’s vote, at least for now.
4. Lukewarm and waning support from labor.
Now, let’s talk about how you’re going to leverage what you’ve got to get what you want:
1. Your message: One of the political commentators on CNN hit on it yesterday, even if your handlers didn’t: You’re a fighter, and you fight for what you believe in. Now, I can’t claim to have seen your campaign commercials here in California, but you need to convey that you’ve never backed down from a fight, whether it’s taking on a sitting U.S. Senator in your commencement speech at Wellesley, as a student activist fighting for black student admissions, speaking truth to power as counsel to the House Judiciary Committee during Watergate, fighting for migrant workers, etc. Your next commercial should have a montage of photos of you in these roles, with phrases describing each of your fights and successes – SCHip, Legal Services, House Judiciary Committee, migrant workers, child abuse, Children’s Defense Fund, etc. – a literal and visual cascade of your accomplishments over 35 years rolling throughout the screen with the song, “I’ll Stand By You” – the Patti LaBelle version – playing in the background, all grinding to a halt with a black screen with the tag line in white: Passionate enough to stand up for you; Experienced enough to win. Hillary for President.
2. Don’t concede any group, especially those that were in your base. You need to go back to those groups that were in your base – white women, African Americans – and talk in relatable language and fight for their votes as cheaply as possible, perhaps by having an internet chat on iVillage.com or BlackVoices.com while maintaining the support you already have. Think of it as two jobs – in-person campaigning by day, live internet campaigning at night. As Tim Gunn says, “Make it work.”
3. Talk less, respond more. You need to be less scripted, with fewer canned lines. You need to speak to the concerns of voters as voiced by them, and talk about the why of what you’re doing – why you chose the path you did and how it’s lead you here; what you have to offer – the perspective of more than half of the world’s population, which has never been fully reflected in the Oval Office. You might even humanize yourself a bit more, describing yourself as a menopausal sixty-something who, like most Americans, knows we can do better.
4. Use ordinary, grassroots people to get your message out and fund your campaign. You need real people talking about you at your rallies, not celebrities or politicos. People whose lives have been changed by something you took a stand on. You also need to harness them for fundraising, whether it’s Bake Sales for Hillary, Garage Sales for Hillary, Burrito Sales for Hillary, Catfish Dinner Sales for Hillary, etc, and put them and their photos on your website. You need to put the big money donors and Hollywood folks down and raise funds a dollar at a time from a groundswell of grassroots folks.
5. You need to own your error in supporting the Iraq War. And it’s easy – you could simply say that, having lived through Watergate and as a former counsel to the Senate Judiciary Committee, you could not have imagined that a president would intentionally mislead people on an issue of national security (and emphasize the "on an issue of national security" part since Bill did lie about Monica) because surely there were too many checks and balances in the White House to let that happen. You also need to say that you would no longer give any President the benefit of the doubt, nor would you expect Congress or the American people to do the same if you were president.
6. Do not – and I repeat, DO NOT – even think about trying to seat the Florida and Michigan delegations. It smacks of game playing. I don’t think you’d even have a shot of being on the ticket if you did that and lost.
7. Along those lines, do not try to win this by having the superdelegates put you over. If you don’t win by pledged delegates, you need to be gracious and acknowledge Obama as the winner. History will reward you later.
Okay, Hill, I hope you were listening. Now fire your staff and get to work.
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