I have my own bones to pick with many of Ta-Nehisi Coates’ blogs, but his most recent piece, Fear of a Black President, is, or at least it should be, required reading. Coates brilliantly expresses the paradoxes and contradictions of being black in America, and how those contradictions have boxed in our black president. There’s a lot of meat to chew on in that piece, but what most strikes me, what hovers in my mind days after reading it, is Coates’ account of Shirley Sherrod’s conversation with President Obama.
Although I focus on Obama’s policies, my reproach of him has never been as simple as that. It is, most often, paired with a seething suspicion that Obama is not rooted in the African-American tradition, in that Obama mimics us [African-Americans] more than he intuitively understands us. In this sense, watching Obama play basketball with his shirt tucked in is akin to watching Romney condescend to Tea Partiers, pretending, with a cool 250 mil in the bank, that he feels their pain. So this part of the Coates piece was particularly telling, at least for me:
I asked Sherrod if she thought the president had a grasp of the specific history of the region and of the fights waged and the sacrifices made in order to make his political journey possible. “I don’t think he does,” Sherrod said. “When he called me [shortly after the incident], he kept saying he understood our struggle and all we’d fought for. He said, ‘Read my book and you’ll see.’ But I hadread his book.”
When having a “I feel your pain” conversation about racism, which, coincidentally, occurs far too often among blacks in America, I’ve never heard anyone say, “I understand really, just read my book” or blog, or whatever. You swap war stories. You bond by sharing what you’ve experienced, as well as those stories passed down to you by your parents and grandparents.
It just doesn’t seem that Obama is a part of that narrative. He doesn’t have roots from which to pull. He views racism, mostly, as an intellectual abstraction. Being unable to catch a cab is, for him, as far as it goes, and those roots are not deep enough to allow for an earnest expression of all that it means to be African American.
Appreciate the kind words Deb... Regarding your comment: "Yes, I’m well-acquainted with the trick — I’m just tired as hell of playing it, worse yet still having to"... I couldn't agree more. Somewhere, somehow, it just became widely accepted that this would forever be our lot in life. Problem is, playing and pretending, soothing the tender egos of employers, etc, when others aren't required to triangulate in a similar fashion, isn't freedom. And it isn't fair. I think symbolism has its place, so I agree with Coates in that symbolism has some value, but then the issue becomes whether or not we - African-Americans - are settled and sophisticated enough to ever move beyond it. Like you, I see little display of power in Obama's administration. Far from it, Obama seems docile... domesticated.... a muted representation ... of .... us.
No problem, just calling it like I see it and you're so right, it certainly isn't freedom (nobody seems too concerned about what's fair anymore). "...but then the issue becomes whether or not we – African-Americans – are settled and sophisticated enough to ever move beyond it. " And that, is the paramount issue. I contend though, while the responsibility is certainly ours to get settled and sophisticated enough, the barriers constructed to prevent that have been and remain, overwhelming in this society. Since it's taken 100s of years for us to get this way -- as a people; I don't see us getting past the symbolism anytime soon. "Obama seems docile… domesticated…. a muted representation … of …. us." Touché!
I read the Coates piece and found it insightful and timely. As much as we seem to revere the man for what he has achieved, he certainly has not ushered in a new era of blackness, or better race relations for that matter. The beer with the racist cop who arrested Professor Gates from his own home was the first and last straw for me. But I was struck here by the comments concerning "our" feeling the need to soothe white people's feelings. I am concerned about how uncomfortable we seem in our skins these days. It used to be that the extremely poor black folk hung their heads, and tried to disappear in the presence of whites. Now we have foolish celebrities singing about "niggers in paris," excuse my french, symbolically hanging their heads with doofus comments meant to hide their discomfort probably. Hello, do they not know about Josephine Baker and the black expatriate communities in Paris?! I digress. So, why are we not settled and sophisticated enough to move beyond this caretaker role. I mean I know plenty, plenty of us who are privately and publicly secure and sophisticated. So, what is stopping the leader of the free world from feeling that he can support a black citizen when it is right to do so, and censure a white public servant when it is right to do so? Why, when clearly we are the ones who are still unsafe, do some of us feel we have to make it safe for others? The law is on our side (sort of); socially we can go and do pretty much whatever we can reach with money, or a determined wanderlust, or you know - gumption. What do you think keeps us "docile....muted representations of ourselves?" That is the question and maybe answering that is where we need to refocus our efforts. White people are well able to take care of themselves! I wish we were as concerned about hurting our own feelings.
Yvette...Been following you for a while and appreciate your commentary. Thanks for both this "clearly put" piece, as well as the link to Coates’ article which, I agree with you, "brilliantly expresses the paradoxes and contradictions of being black in America, and how those contradictions have boxed in our black president. " I also agree with you on the Changeling and Shirley Sherrod (I spoke no "dulcet tones" when I blogged about it!). But when I reached this part at the end, there were a couple things with which I took issue on GP: "Part of Obama’s genius is a remarkable ability to soothe race consciousness among whites. Any black person who’s worked in the professional world is well acquainted with this trick. ... Yes, I'm well-acquainted with the trick -- I'm just tired as hell of playing it, worse yet still having to. It seems w can't shake that whole "doing the same things and expecting different results" thing. It's soul-murdering over time, unless of course, one's soul leans only toward the materially influenced, superficial, "go along to get along" IMHO. I fully recognize however, that everybody's got their own definition of self-determination; the "trick" is just not mine. "And yet this is the uncertain foundation of Obama’s historic victory—a victory that I, and my community, hold in the highest esteem. Who would truly deny the possibility of a black presidency in all its power and symbolism? Who would rob that little black boy of the right to feel himself affirmed by touching the kinky black hair of his president?" I am a part of the "community," to which Mr. Coates refers and he does not speak for me regarding the "highest esteem" comment. I see no reason to afford the Changeling's selection any esteem whatsoever (for more reasons than I can possibly list here). Let's just say, I'm not big on "symbolism" (particularly as a proxy for "doing-some-worthwhile-sh*t-ism), and based on the last almost four years, I certainly see no "power" in this presidency -- Black, or otherwise. That little, Black boy was robbed of any and all self-affirmation the day Obama took that oath, trying to sound like MLK -- with strings, firmly attached to his head and extremities. Like I said, I'm not much for symbolism and nothing's changed for any of those "little Black boys." And, "kinky black hair?" Now that's some symbolism! Your post dovetails nicely with what I think a "homeboy" is -- and is not, so I've linked to it. Thanks again Sister, for "making it plain."