Showing posts with label African American. Show all posts
Showing posts with label African American. Show all posts

Monday, March 9, 2015

SAE Just Showed Us Why There's Not Enough Love For All of Us

Disclaimer: If you have not read this BLACK SAE's post, do that first. Seriously, his is more relevant, closer to the issue.  His takes priority over mine. In fact, here's a video too.

Disclaimer: I am a Christian. We are supposed to look at deeper issues than race. Me and Jesus are working on that. Until we get it worked out, this post will be written and read.  As Anne Lamott told us writers: "Tell the truth, tell the truth, tell the truth."  Knowing me, there will be an equally expository and self-deprecating piece on a faith-based reaction later on.

Disclaimer: If you don't intend to read ALL of this, do me a favor and don't read any of it.  If you're Caucasian American, something near the top will piss you off.  Not "it might," it definitely will. So either commit to your decision to be pissed off, or don't even read beyond here.

Disclaimer: I will not name any organization beyond the one whose reputation we no longer have to protect because they are done for.  I am doing this for several reasons: 1) One of my best friends is Greek to her core and she gets very upset when I discuss this. 2) I, personally, did not have a single blatant racist experience at college. In fact, I knew some very interested and sensitive advisors.  I know that if I start naming orgs, then they pop up in Google right along side the most guilty party.  I'm not mad at them; I am just participating in the national discussion.  3) I'm a teacher and I hate playing into people's laziness.  If you want to know where I went to college, it's in the public domain, as is the name of the organization I was (am?) a member of. But I would argue that it doesn't matter.

Disclaimer: I represent absolutely no one. I am just a Latinegra telling her story.

Some terms you should know:
PWI/PWC/PWU - Predominantly White Institution/College/University; everything that wasn't founded by a person of color.
NPC - National Panhellenic Conference - the governing body of (predominantly white) female Greek social organizations
NPHC - National Pan-Hellenic Council - the governing body of both male and female Black Greek organizations
NIC - North-American Interfraternity Conference - the governing body of (predominantly white) male Greek social orgs; the larger version of IFC - Interfraternity Council
Rush/Recruitment - the process of choosing or being chosen for a Greek org
BSA/BSU - Black Student Association/Union - an organization on a campus that unifies African American students on that campus and usually stays connected to the BSA/BSUs of other nearby colleges/universities. These organizations were originally formed as shelters for Black students at PWIs (perhaps those who did not want to be sheltered in the NPHC Greek system). For obvious reasons, BSA/BSUs don't exist at Historically Black Colleges and Universities (while NPHC orgs were originated at HBCUs and thrive there).

THE REAL CONTENT STARTS HERE:

Once upon a time, I was born into a college-educated, well-spoken, well-read, well-traveled family of not all Black people.  My uncle married a white lady back when it was a big deal.  Her family lives close to mine, so from the second I was born my cousins were all the colors of the race spectrum.  My white cousins and I used to love to confuse people by telling them we are cousins and then explaining how.

Once upon a time, I was smart and snobby - oh wait, that hasn't totally changed - and I had expensive tastes.  I wanted to go to a "good school" with other smart, driven people who understood how brilliant I was.  I also wanted to be close to my friends (primarily the mixed one I was in love with, and the 2 white girls I was friends with, and the black guy I could never get to date me); wanted to rise through the ranks of leadership and accolades just like we had in high school.

I picked a private PWI.  Because I was an idiot.  Most socially conscious people already know that the university's status as private is at least partially why it's a PWI. It's hella expensive.  I am getting a second job next week in order to work at paying it off.  Most expensive decision of my life.

At Any University America, you have pre-school activities for incoming freshman.  They throw you several parties, all of which say, "Thanks for your money! Here's all the fun stuff you can do with it!" But they leave out that "all the fun stuff" will cost more money.  At Any University America, NPC and IFC Rush (see the terms above) is one of the pre-school activities. So you sign up for classes and dorms and buy parking spaces and books, but before you ever set foot in class you decide if you want to be Greek. I find this ridiculous.

NOW, at Any Large Public University America, the NPHC (see terms) members are standing at booths and stomping the yard (yes, that is a real thing) during orientation week, telling poor, naive, misguided Black kids like me, "Hey girl, you don't wanna rush those organizations. They don't care about our community. Wait a year, keep your grades up, come to our mixer next month, and rush for us next semester/year."

But at my tiny, private university in America, there were not enough Black students interested in any one NPHC org to charter one, so there was no Black Greek presence on campus.  Not only that, but there was another Black girl in an NPC org there.  I saw her and said, "Yes! Someone who gets me!" Plus my friends from high school were all Greek - one white girl in the org I subsequently joined, the mixed guy and the black guy both in another org on campus.  I went to that university to be with my friends.  Why not go big or go home? I didn't have a Black community to save me. And I didn't think I needed saving.

After all, there's quite enough love for all of us. There's quite enough joy and quite enough laughter to chase away gloom, for my sisters, all my sisters are in this very room.

HERE'S THE ONLY PART OF THIS THAT WILL MAKE WHITE PEOPLE FEEL GOOD:
From the first second I walked across the threshold to the last alumnae event I went to in an attempt to continue being sisters with women who I had very little in common with, every woman I met in that house respected me as a human, as an intellectual, as a member of the same organization. They treated me like a sister to the best of their ability.  All problems (there were not many) were a result of simple, natural personal conflicts (they didn't love my best friend's personality either and she's white) that occur regardless of race and class. I do not hold a single one of the women who were members at the time I was a member at fault for anything anyone else has ever said or done. They were sweet. They almost made me believe that racism was past.  In that room, for three years, there was quite enough love for all of us.  I even met several girls from other chapters of this org and they were all lovely to me as well. 

Second semester freshman year, I started dating a senior from one of the state universities who was also a member of an NPHC org.  From the first moment I mentioned it, he never stopped lecturing me about how being a member of an NPC org made me some kind of race traitor.  I heard that from the next guy I dated too - a graduate of the same university, but in a different NPHC org.  I heard that from the most recent guy I dated - a graduate of a different large public university, but from the same NPHC org as the first.  The point is: the bewilderment was pervasive. Why in the world would I give them all my time and money and fancy dresses and photos?

I was so naive.
Why not? I asked.
We're all human. I said.
This is 2008. I said.
They like me. I said.
They think I'm smart. I said.
They put me in office. I said.

My junior year, the BSA at my school started becoming much more actively involved in campus happenings and I was drawn in.  I felt the tension immediately.  Ask my best friend - who was pretty high on the totem pole of our org; I started talking about "black stuff" a lot all of a sudden.  Junior spring, I went with BSA to the Big Twelve Conference on Black Student Government.

Talk about CHANGE MY LIFE!
Here's a statement to make all the Black people mad at me too: I was so pleasantly shocked to find out that there were large quantities of Black people who were just as smart, organized, and driven as me - they just all went to other (cheaper) schools!

I got knocked down several notches that week, that year.  If I'm not the smartest Black kid in the U.S. there must be another reason or set of reasons why I am the smartest (okay, okay, fourth-smartest) Black kid I know.  Maybe it's regional.  Maybe it's because they were all smart enough to choose cheaper schools.  Maybe it's because they were so smart they got full-rides to east and west coast schools instead of staying in the dirty south where most of the racists are hiding.

Maybe the answer is not simple.

Maybe I wasn't as smart then as I thought I was.

At Big Twelve, I started understanding for the first time how institutional racism works. How the white sorority girls at all schools act afraid of the Black athletes who speak American Black English Vernacular and listen to their sweary, offensive rap music way too loud. I started understanding how I could listen to our music, and speak our language, and still want to change the world.  I started seeing that there was value - more value - in sisterhood and brotherhood among my actual sisters and brothers than among white people.  I started seeing who had my back.

When I transferred universities, I met a few girls who were members of an NPHC org who also tried to convince me to denounce my white org.  I didn't hold any real allegiance to them any more.  But I wasn't ready to let go of the idea that I could represent some kind of shift in the world, where I could be in that white org because my friends were, because they wanted me as their sister.

And until Sunday night watching SAE chant about lynching niggers who can't join their organization and Monday afternoon reading this mean-spirited, prejudiced, and hilarious response that I understood their point.

Why did the SAE members chant that? 
Because every single thing comes down to who has your back and whose back you have. SAE wanted us all to know they don't have any niggers' backs. None of us. Not one. Ever.

Not if we want friends to party with on the weekend.
Not if we need a lift because our tire went flat.
Not if they are the cop and we are driving 10 miles over the speed limit to our friend's house to take them medicine because they are sick.
Not if we need a job.
They will never have our backs. We're just niggers.

Why did that prompt me to tell my story?
In this article linked above, Dante wrote, "How many other frats saw that video and their first thought was 'WHEW! Thank God they didn’t catch our shit on video too!'?" and I laughed, before realizing that is the question I've been asking myself for 5 years. Will James (see the first posted link, which you should have already read) is sitting somewhere putting on a fake smile for his baby boy because his "brothers" were nice to him just like my "sisters" were. I was reading that article and crying, because I know exactly what he meant.  I know it with hundreds of dollars and hundreds of photos and a dozen semi-formal gowns, and a song that promised me there was quite enough room for all of us.  But can I say with any certainty that my (former) org will never make national news for singing something racist? You can say yes, because in general women are classier than men.  You can say yes, because we are smarter than to film ourselves being stupid.  But until you can show me the founding documents where Ethel and Beth and Odette (not the founders' real names) stated that they welcomed members of all races, then we will never know.  There might be a chapter in Mississippi singing a song just as ugly.  And my "sisters" will keep saying they love me until that video is leaked.  Just like Will James's "brothers" loved him.

I am not mad about ridiculous obvious racism like SAE's chant.  People suck.  I'm over it.  I get mad when people who are otherwise intelligent behave as though they are oblivious and unaware of systemic injustice and racism.  I get mad when a woman looks me in my eyes and tells me there's enough love for all of us but won't stand up to protest for the remanding and imprisonment of Daniel Holtzclaw who is charged with 26 counts of abuse to Black women on the east side of my city.  That's what our philanthropy is for, isn't it?

Or was my ex-boyfriend right? They don't care about it when it's our community.

Why did I write this?
We can't do anything but tell our stories and hope the collection will show the world what kind of mess we have always been wading in.
SAE is talking about lynching niggers and an unarmed Black person still dies every 28 hours at the hands of a person who is not prosecuted. They might not be connected; or they might be two sides of the same coin.

Questions Black People Will Ask:
Why didn't your parents tell you not to join a white org?
They did. I was both naive and stubborn.
They were also unable to clearly articulate the specific and compelling reasons why I shouldn't.  "Don't do it" has never been a convincing argument, especially not from your parents who told you not to walk and chew gum or sing at the dinner table.  I needed convincing, real life, anecdotal, convincing reasons.

What do you mean you don't know any smart Black people?
I know a TON of them now. I didn't know them then.  They stayed away from me because I was always looking down my nose at them. That perspective was my fault, not ours. I now understand that what makes Black people seem less smart than white people is really systemic racism in our education system and in our society.  I know now.  I'm sorry.

If you had it to do over what would you do?
Go to a large public university and not be Greek at all.  

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Brokenness Over Belligerence

"She only cusses when she's angry and she only gets angry at the right things." - me about myself on 9-3 after doing a bit too much research into educational malpractice.

There's a song by Matthew West called "My Own Little World." When I hear it on K-Love or read through the lyrics, I see privilege (many people of color would call it "white privilege" although it's more about money than race). But I also see a man who knows he is operating from a place of privilege and wants to change it.  He sings, "break my heart for what breaks Yours," and I know that the heart of God is broken by needless and senseless violence, death, greed, poverty, depression, bullying, the abandonment and abortion of children, inequities in education and opportunity.  All of that breaks the heart of God. I know it and so does Matthew West. 

#BlackLivesMatter

I also know that, by God's standard, hatred is never ever appropriate.  I recently learned through a pastor that, by God's standard, apathy is not appropriate either.  So I can't hate the guy who doesn't give a flying fig about education equity.  He's not all bad anyway. 
I can't hate the people on my timeline who care more about property damage than the loss of a life, hundreds of black lives. Those people are not all bad. They are teachers and church organizers and in general they are sweet.

It's so much easier to be angry than to be hurt.

If I could have, rather than sitting with my friends and cussing about the injustice of adults of who mistreat or inadvertently screw up the futures of children, I would have cried.  For me, anger is almost never anger at its root; it is either fear or grief.

The appropriate thing to do when you're afraid - if you're a Christian and you walk in the authority you share with Christ - is to fight off the devil and his schemes (usually through intercessory prayer and declaration of the Word).  God did not give us a spirit of fear.  So comforting ourselves with our anger is actually akin to cowardice.  Because we are afraid to fight, we are going to let the devil win and simply throw a little tantrum to keep up appearances.

The appropriate thing to do when you feel grief is to cry - especially if you're a woman.  I once picked up a book that I wanted so badly to read.  It is If You Have to Cry, Go Outside by Kelly Cutrone.  I was inspired by her bravery and her determination and her ability to remain professional no matter what.  But I know now, the Lord would not give me the stamina to read that book because that is not a concept I need further internalized in my life.

Sometimes our hearts get broken and when that happens, there is no better reaction that to release the pain and anger.  Too many times we mask our grief as aggression and our fear as anger.

Remember that there is a blessing in the storm.  Remember that the Lord has not brought you into the desert to leave you to dehydrate and die.  Remember that He works all things together for our good. 

#iLoveBrokenness 

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Despite the Light of That Same Star...

This post is maybe a month too long overdue.

If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter or Tumblr, you know that I am mad as hell about all of the young black people, and especially black men, who have died, especially at the hands of police officers, in recent months and years. If you've been following me, you know I think the United States's justice system and police departments need an intense overhaul. However, you might not know, unless you know me really well, that I have not considered myself to be solely under the jurisdiction of the United States for some years now. I believe I'm a citizen of the kingdom of God and I give to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's (Matthew 22:21 and Mark 12:17). If you heard my poems either at Purple Martini or Ice Event Center the last couple of weeks, you've heard how my previous self and my current self are a bit at war with each other. If you're my sweet half white and half boricua Haitian missionary friend, you know that I don't hate white people. I am blood related to two really adorable, sweet three-fourths white babies and I love their mama to pieces.  But it is sometimes hard to love people who abuse their privilege, specifically white people.  If you're my Favorite or a friend we met at a political leadership conference, you know that #blacklivesmatter isn't just about politics; it's about relationships - especially when you are/look white.

  


But if you're anyone else who has not had a personal conversation with me about these events and our reactions you might be thinking I'm a reverse racist. You might be angry at my audacity to stand up for all black lives, even those of petty thieves, even at the risk of police officers lives because police are supposed to protect and serve the community. If you are any number of dozens or hundreds of white people who I have gone to church with, held hands with, prayed with, and gotten closer to the Lord with over the last 20 years, you might be thinking I've completely lost my faith.
The good news is: I haven't lost my faith. The bad news is: God and I have yet to come to a conclusion about how to appropriately handle racism in America today. You're going to want to talk to me about submission and how God and I don't have to come to a conclusion about anything because He's in charge. In response, I'm only going to say you don't know the way our relationship works. You're going to want to tell me to turn the other cheek and to love them anyway, because after all they nailed Jesus on the cross. In response, I'm going to say Dr. Martin Luther King a reverend who was martyred didn't just turn the other cheek.  And I have yet to loot or burn or physically harm anyone in my anger (like a small minority of protestors in Ferguson did). That's probably the best you're going to get for now.

I have been steadily distancing myself from all American social norms that are not based in truth and justice.  This includes nearly all American politics, and the American church's semi-allegiance to a blond-haired, blue-eyed guy named Jesus instead of a Hebrew carpenter named Yeshua and the God he represented, Yahweh.  Boycotting and awareness are nasty business.  Not fun.  They don't help you make friends.  But I can't stand idly by and watch the world burn without doing or saying anything. The Yeshua who tossed temple tables and was crucified for his stance against the theocracy (religious politics) of his day didn't just stand by and watch.



But to the point of this post...
I went to church last weekend at LifeChurch.tv not IVVC (an elaboration which I will not now or ever make in blog format). Pastor Craig is in a series about worship which is quite meaningful to me personally, considering I have left and joined, left and joined 3 churches on the premises of worship for the last 8 years or more. This past week he chose to discuss of all things tithes and offerings. I have been a diligent tither for a very long time because Pastor Charles (IVVC) is an excellent tithes preacher. I have learned thoroughly that the members of the Kingdom of God benefit from operating on the kingdom's system of "seed + time = harvest."  If you've been following me since last March you've seen me post two or three times about financial blessings that came from seeds sown into the kingdom.  But I am not really ashamed to say I was not happy to hear Pastor Craig speak on this topic this past weekend.  I currently don't really consider anywhere my church home, and have not tithed for the last two or three paychecks.  From my seat, I passively resisted his sermon and without a happy heart gave my six dollar tithe on my earnings from my last poetry show.



This post is about how despite all the turmoil in the world, despite the fact that I'm boycotting Christmas, despite the fact that every thing is fraught with tension and hardship, and that it has even been a rough week at school, God doesn't break promises. I sat in the service and thought: "These tithes aren't doing anything for me! When I was paying them I wasn't moving any further out of debt!" But, for you atheists out there, for my social justice friends who are more on my side now that I'm mad at the Man and who avoided my newsfeed last March when I was all "Jesus this, and God's promises that," for my American Christian friends who have a nativity scene on the mantle where Santa is bowing to Baby Jesus, this is for you.

I was on the phone with one of my five credit card companies a couple of weeks ago, because I realized they were still charging me for a service I had asked of them to turn off. Paying for that service usually meant I was only paying $10 or $20 on my bill every month. They offered then and confirmed this week that not only would they cancel the service but they would refund me all the money I've paid for the service since I've had the card. The refund will be in the amount of $600. That is more than half the balance on my card.

I know you want to say "they're just making up for their mistake," but that's not what this is. Credit card companies want to take your money not give it back.  Despite the way it looks to me, despite my anger on Saturday, despite my resistance, my participation in God's system and my lack of trust in the world's system has now translated to a bill that's paid down farther than I would've been able to pay it.

Despite the fact that I don't really know what church I go to - although I will be paying my tithes at Life Church, despite the fact that I probably have not been anywhere near as loving through this social unrest as God would have wanted me to be, despite some of my personal downfalls that I have yet to overcome even though I know where the power lies, God does not renege on his system or his promises.  He is a better steward of our finances then we are, and definitely a better steward than this world is.  God doesn't throw a tantrum and stop being who He is just because we have forgotten who we are, or because we feel the need to become someone new.  I don't have a denomination.  I'm not celebrating Christmas.  I am opting further and further out of a political system, social system, cultural system that only contracts to protect and provide for certain people.  I am tuning my ear and my heart to a God with a system that never ever fails no matter who you are or what you look like.

In case you're wondering - God's system has very specific rules and boundaries because it has extravagant rewards and benefits. He gives mercy and grace to those who need it and requires much from those to whom much has been given.  The "buy-in" to the system, the pledge of allegiance if you will, is not a fancy indoctrinated prayer, but a willingness to trade your way for His.  He asks for a lot.  His system works best for those who give Him everything.  That is a very tall order, but true protection, true peace, true fulfillment have no other source.  I am not a Christian because it's cool, or because America is a Christian nation (it is not), or because a church told me to be.  I try to follow in the footsteps of Yeshua because in him and because of Yahweh who sent him is the only salvation.  It's not about heaven and hell; it's about how to make it through life.

"These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” - John 16:33

(title is a muddling of the lyrics to the second verse of "The First Noel")
(side note: Those of you who refuse to tithe, because you don't want to give your money to the church, I get it. But tithing is not a pact with the church; it's a pact with God. Connect with Him, not just with His representatives who sometimes misrepresent Him)

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

My Identity

This blog was more or less created around the idea of identity. 
 
I identify myself by who I am and who I will always be no matter what: human, woman, Black, Latina...
 
 
 
...by what I am right now and love being, but have to make a conscious decision to remain as: natural, Oklahoman, following God, a high school teacher, not married (yes, this is a conscious decision), striving for justice and love, a writer, a performer, an editor...
 
 
 
...by what I love doing: a book lover, a baby snuggler, a thinker, a music lover, a dreamer...
 
 
 
...and by a couple things I know are temporary: a master's student, not married, trying to stay healthy.
  
For the purpose of not letting this be the world's longest blog series, I will narrow it down to the few identifiers I want to talk about. I have already discussed my God-following and health at length (and I'm sure there will be more in future). Over the next few posts, I will discuss being Black and Latina (or Latinegra or Afrolatina), being a woman and being natural (probably together), being a woman and being unmarried, being a writer, and being human (which will have a spiritual focus, of course).   
 
Here is a teaser quote:
"I am an endangered species, but I sing no victim songs. I am a woman. I am an artist, and I know where my voice belongs." - Dianne Reeves
 
How do you identify yourself? "Hi, my name is _______ and I am __________"???