Can Obama Deal with Race While He's in Office?

THIS WEEK, Stephen was asked to comment on President Obama's demeanor in his recent media appearances and strategies to win support for the administration's economic plan. Ultimately, the question was: Is Barack Obama still in campaign mode?

That is a question that has been surfacing almost since Obama took office. But to us, there is a related question involved: Can Barack Obama stop putting race on the back burner to maintain the support of moderate Whites?

During the campaign, it was a clear strategy to steer clear of any racial politics so as not to appear to be "the Black candidate." Obama's historic speech on race just over a year ago was a reluctant response to the Jeremiah Wright fervor -- a controversy that, in part, harmed Obama because it highlighted his race. The skill with which Obama dealt with that controversy allowed him to "move on," meaning stop talking about issues that are of disproportionate concern to communities of color or that have race as a fundamental component.

Now that he is president, not much has changed. After his first press conference, there were reports that the members of the Black press, while invited to attend, were upset, feeling that they were mostly ornamental. THIS WEEK, the tone shifted greatly, after Obama gave a question to a member of the Black press during his prime-time press conference. An early question went to Kevin Chappell of Ebony, who asked about homelessness, which is certainly not a situation unique to communities of color (especially in the current economic climate, which was the impetus for Chappell's question), though about half of America's homeless are African American, which is vastly disproportionate to the percentage of African Americans (less than 12%) in the country. Obama's answer did not include any discussion of race whatsoever.

Perhaps it shoudn't have. Perhaps that the presidents decision to avoid any mention of race is evidence that America is truly becoming "post-racial." After all, suffering knows no color. Why should race come into play at all?

The problem is that Obama is smarter than that. He understands that ignoring the racial element of America's problems does not mean that there is no racial element. He has been clear in his writing and speaking that racial issues must be addressed directly and courageously. It's clear that he does not believe this is the time or place for such conversations to occur.

The question that immediately followed Chappell's came from ABC News's Ann Compton, who quite directly asked the question that perhaps only could be asked by a White reporter (lest claims of "racism" be tossed about by White conservatives):

"Yours is a rather historic presidency, and I’m just wondering whether in any of the policy debates that you’ve had within the White House, the issue of race has come up, or whether it has in the way you feel you’ve been perceived by other leaders or by the American people. Or have the last 64 days been a relatively color-blind time?"

The president gave a very short answer that essentially dismissed the issue altogether. Noting that the inauguration was indeed an historic time, Obama said that the issues he faces affect people of all races.

Well, of course, that's very true. It was true of his predecessor, and of the forty-two presidents before him. But Compton's question is interesting nonetheless, yet went unanswered. And it's probably for the best. It very well might have been a "gotcha" question. There are millions of Whites for whom Obama's election is repulsive. There are millions beyond that who, consciously or subconsciously, believe the Black folks look out for their own (unlike Whites, who care about everyone), and who are waiting for evidence that he is giving preferential time, attention and consideration to "his people."

But there are a lot of us who hope that progress toward racial justice can be made with an administration headed up by a person who is not only Black, but is more thoughtful about the complexities of race than any of his predecessors have been. Right after the election, Cornel West told Democracy Now's Amy Goodman that he hoped Obama would be a "progressive Abraham Lincoln" and that West aspires "to be the Frederick Douglass" to put pressure on Obama. On the other side, however, that potential is constrained by external parameters that range from political opponents to the realities of maintaining widespread public support at a time of national crisis.



So what's a president to do? We have believed for some time that Obama's real work on racial justice is likely to come after his presidency has ended (whether that's after one term or two) because, as the first Black president, he will feel as if he needs to not appear to be "too Black."

In that way, Obama certainly is still in campaign mode.

Through the Eyes of Children

THIS WEEK, Stephen relates a story about his recent trip to the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum.

I recently spent an afternoon at the very impressive Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum in Springfield, Illinois. The facility is beautiful, with a number of memorable artifacts from throughout Lincoln's life. In addition to two very interesting and well-produced shows, the museum part of the campus is broken into two parts: a log-cabin that traces Lincoln's life until 1861, and a White House that documents his years as president, up to and including resting in State after his assassination.

Overall, it was a powerful day; I highly recommend the experience. I have been troubled, though, by one aspect of the trip, which I thought TWIR readers might appreciate and/or like to discuss here.

After walking through a replica of Lincoln's one-bedroom boyhood home, there is an exhibit about the slave trade that features life-like (and life size) figures such as those that are scattered throughout the museum (see image at left). This display includes a (White) auctioneer with his right hand firmly clasping the shoulder of a Black boy who appears to be about seven or eight years old. The boy is clearly wailing with grief, reaching out for his mother, who is steps away, in shackles, being pulled away by a White man who has purchased her. For her part, the mother is teary, as well, but her gaze is fixed on the eyes of her husband, who is similarly shackled and being pulled in the opposite direction by another purchaser.

My nine-year-old daughter, Amelia, approached the slave auction exhibit with great interest. I watched her face and mannerisms as best I could from behind her, my hands resting gently on her little shoulders. She looked on, but said nothing. As we moved with the flow of the crowd on to the next exhibit, she turned around and craned her neck to look around me for a final glance. A few moments later, as we were looking at the gravestone of Lincoln's young son who died at age 3, she turned to me and said, "Daddy, if we have time, can we go back to look at the slave one again?"

My heart sank. I fought back tears at the exhibit in the first place and couldn't bring myself to think about what must have been going on in her head. Now she wanted to go back. What did that mean? Why did she want to expose herself to that again when all I wanted to do was forget that I ever saw it?

I told her that we surely could go back, and that if she wanted to go back right away, that was okay with me. So we nudged our way through the crowd and back to the exhibit. I stood in the same position (behind her), but this time, she wanted to talk about it. As she pointed at the various elements, she explained to me that sometimes families would be torn apart because people didn't always buy slaves as a family. She knew this, she informed me, because of the story that came with Addy (Walker), the American Girl doll whose family struggled for its freedom. As I turned my ear toward her -- partly so that she wouldn't have to raise her voice and partly to hide my wet eyes from her -- I nodded and agreed that it was a terrible situation. After a few moments, she was satisfied and pulled my hand off to the next room to see what else there was to see.

And there I was -- a man who has spent his professional life researching the power of racism, speaking to students and members of audiences around the country who have gathered to hear my thoughts, giving quotes to media outlets who have published my ideas on the matter internationally -- dumbfounded as to what to say to the one person who most needed him to say something smart.

It wasn't the first time something like this has happened. We live in downtown Chicago, so there are examples of racism and inequality all around us. Four years ago, I came back from the local drugstore with a story about a man who told me that his girlfriend was in the hospital and that he'd really like to buy her a card. I told him that I had no cash (which was true), but that if he wanted to pick out a card, I'd be happy to buy it for him when I checked out with my order. When he met me at the register, he had about $60 worth of candy, stuffed animals, etc. with him. Right or wrong, I paid for it, and went home to share the story. Amelia listened attentively, and then went off to play in her room by herself. When I went in a little bit later to check on her, she said (I remember this verbatim):

"Daddy, you know that man who you bought things for? I know it doesn't matter, but was he light-skinned or dark-skinned? I know it doesn't matter. I'm just wondering."

"He was dark skinned, babe. Why do you ask?"

"I know it doesn't matter," she said for the third time, but it just seems like every time somebody needs help, he has dark skin. That doesn't seem fair."

Great. Now I was in the position of having to try to explain economic racism to a five-year-old.

Look, I am very much willing to admit that some of this is my fault. I can't be easy being the daughter of a guy who spends his life studying inequality. This poor kid. Here's an example: My wife and I are very much opposed to Barbie, for obvious reasons, but we decided early on that while we would not buy Barbie for Amelia, we didn't want to make a big deal out of banning her from the household. So if she got a Barbie as a gift (including from Santa -- more of that in a moment), we didn't force her to give it away or throw it out. But I am absolutely ZERO fun playing Barbies. My Barbies say things like "I don't want to go shopping; let's go to the library!" (And yes, my Barbies use semicolons.) "I'm starving!" or "I don't know how I can possibly stand up with such tiny feet!"

Playing Barbies with me totally sucks.

And race has always been a subtle factor in our play. In my professional work, I advocate acting in counter-stereotypical ways. That is, it's not enough just to be not racist; we must be anti-racist. This has been fine for the most part, but I still sort of regret the year that Santa brought the big-ass Barbie castle with the princess who was "Black" (she has no typical African American features except dark skin) without realizing that there was an actual movie that went with it (and, of course, didn't feature that Barbie).

In all seriousness, though, how should we handle this? We know what the handful of White bigots do: they teach their children that their skin color makes them superior. We know what people of color do: they teach their children that they will probably be judged unfairly by the color of their skin, but that they should push beyond it and work hard to prove themselves. As someone who teaches college at a predominantly White institution, I can feel confident in pushing my students to think critically about race because they are adults and have minds that can handle the dissonance I seek to instill. But a lot of what we face with White college students is a result of progressive parents teaching them to be "color blind." As a result, we have to work to make them understand systemic racism in order to confront it.

Is that really the best plan? Lie to our children in the hopes that either racism will mysteriously disappear before they become adults or hope that they'll learn to confront the truth in a meaningful way later? Isn't that largely passing the buck because it's easier than dealing with the difficult truth of racism in America?

I didn't expect to be so affected by the museum or by my daughter's reaction to it. In a lot of ways, the fact that she recognized so early that Black folks tend to be poorer than White folks is more troubling to me because it is a current problem. I guess that the other parents felt very comfortable and secure telling their children that what they saw in the slave auction exhibit was horrible, but that it was a long time ago, and things are better now.

It's impossible to argue with that sentiment, but I want Amelia to understand that progress, while wonderful, is not the same as equality. At some point (maybe not today), I want her to understand that what she saw in that exhibit is directly responsible for the inequality she sees in her city today. Because what if I don't help her to understand that? By not making the link, I am tacitly supporting the faulty proposition that there is no relationship between slavery and modern racism. Should I let her think that Black folks have the same chances as White folks? If so, the explanation for racial injustice today has to reside in individual choices rather than systemic oppression. In other words, if we don't help our children to understand how the legacy of slavery affects us today, we should not be surprised when they grow up and refuse to support systemic changes for social justice.

On the other hand, don't our children get to be innocent for a while? Isn't it my job to protect her against the hurt she clearly felt at that exhibit? Isn't it my job to help her to understand that America is truly a place where anyone can make it, irrespective of gender, race, sexual orientation, etc.? The easy answer is "there must be balance," but in the moment, that's not very helpful. We need to be ready when those teaching moments arise. Teaching kids that Martin Luther King, Jr. is a hero and that the Ku Klux Klan is bad are easy decisions. Knowing when and how to make the link between bigotry and racism is much more difficult.

We'd appreciate any thoughts you have about this issue. Now Stephen needs to go and make sure that Barbie knows that if, indeed, Ken turns out to be gay, that there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

To B or Not to B

Attentive TWIR readers will notice that about a year ago, we started to capitalize the words "White" and "Black" in our posts. We're still not completely comfortable with the decision to do so, but the implications are potentially significant. We are interested in your feedback on this.

Academic journals differ as to whether these shorthand racial classifications should be capitalized. There seems to be unanimous agreement that terms like "Caucasian" and "African American" should always be capitalized (though whether the latter should be hyphenated is another point of contention), but one can open a number of scholarly journals and books and see "White" and "Black" both capitalized and in lower case form. The style guide for the American Psychological Association (APA) -- which communication journals follow and upon which political science formal style [APSA style] is based -- requires capitalization. This is why we made the switch.

On the other hand, Carnegie Mellon University's style guide is clear that these words should not be capitalized. This is consistent with the guidelines of the Associated Press (AP), which drives decisions for most journalistic (as opposed to scholarly) publications.

In a 2000 issue of American Speech, Robert Wachal, professor emeritus of the Department of Linguistics at the University of Iowa, argues that "Black" should be capitalized, as should "White," because they are proper nouns, not color descriptors. Wachal says that failing to capitalize "Black" is "unintended racism" (what we would simply call "racism," since we divorce intent from the concept altogether, leaving terms like "prejudice" and "bigoted" for intention-relevant attitudes and behaviors). To make the issue even more complicated, DiversityInc provides interesting rationale for why "Black" should be capitalized but "white" should not be.

To further the conversation, it is important to consider this exchange about whether it is appropriate to capitalize "Indigenous."

A fundamental assumption of our work through the Race Project, including our weekly offerings here, is that language matters. Those who dismiss gender-neutral language or "politically correct" speech are unappreciative of the ways that language at once reflects and perpetuates power differences in culture. Using "member of Congress" instead of "Congressman," for instance, has real implications for the ability of women to be competitive for public office and to enjoy the respect that men have received "naturally." The critical race scholar bell hooks writes her name in all lower case letters, which reminds us of the arbitrary privilege that some members of society have as a result of their placement (akin to the arbitrary largeness of letters that just happen to come at the front of a word).

So what do you think? Should the terms "White" and "Black" be capitalized or not? In what ways might this matter?

Let us know!

The Future of the GOP: Are the Smart Guys Poised to Take Over?

Conservatives and Republicans have not demonstrated a genuine commitment to understanding (let alone bettering) the lives of racial minorities since the days of Jack Kemp's creative, if controversial, "enterprise zones" idea (though see our exchanges with Dr. William Voegeli). This doesn't mean that conservatives do not care about racial minorities; they very well might. It's just that it's difficult to tell because the underlying philosophy is that individuals are responsible for their own success (irrespective of where the individual begins or the systemic barriers that are in place). Just as meaningful racial progress requires the support of Whites and minorities, it requires the support, in America's two-party system, of Republicans and Democrats. Sure, Democrats can get laws passed and enact policies without the help of GOP lawmakers, but the sort of change we envision is bigger than individual policies and government programs. To really turn the corner, Republicans and conservatives need to be involved.

That's why we are cautiously optimistic about the future of the Republican Party. THIS WEEK presented conflicting evidence, however, as the GOP continued it's "look, ma, no White guys" show with Louisiana governor Bobby Jindal reciting a curious response to Obama's "not-State-of-the-Union Address." To be fair, speaking after Barack Obama is like batting behind Barry Bonds. The speech was solid, but that's about the most kind analysis we can offer. He delivered very stale (and overwhelmingly rejected) distortions about tax-and-spend liberals and how much we all love America and need to work together behind a nervous grin that was curious given the dire state of an economy that is suffering from years of the very ideas he espoused. In short, while he is still a rising star in the Party, he didn't gain too many new supporters, and he certainly didn't help to cut into the Obama Administration's strong support amongst the public.

But something is bubbling in GOP circles. While the annual CPAC meeting featured such speakers as Rush Limbaugh (who Tom Schaller argued THIS WEEK in Slate.com is the current leader of the GOP) and Joe the Plumber (seriously), the New York Times ran a feature on the last intellectual to head up the party: Newt Gingrich.

It is important to differentiate between being "intelligent" and being "an intellectual." If we can remove the bias of perspective, most of our national leaders are and have been quite intelligent. Not all of them have been intellectuals, though. An intellectual is a person for whom the world is complicated and who has the curiousity to continually work to make sense of that complexity. There is no inherent claim to the value of such persons, but as professors ourselves, we see it this way: We want the person who is best able to work with car engines to fix our cars, we want the person who is most adept at legal proceedings to represent us in court, and we want the folks who are best equipped to deal with ideas to be running the country.

Newt Gingrich is an idea man. We disagree with him on almost everything, and we think that he would be well served to be more reflective of his ethnocentrism (as we all would), but he's bright, articulate, creative and is committed to ideas.

Karl Rove is a partisan hack. So was George W. Bush. So is Rahm Emanual, who, is tacticly trying to paint Limbaugh as the "intellectual" voice of the Party). So is John Kerry. The lists (in both parties) goes on. All these folks are smart -- some say that Rove is a genius. If so, he is a genius at strategy, not at ideas. That's not an insult; most of us are not geniuses in anything. But with an increasingly educated public and a dying off of the segregationist-era generations, the slash-and-burn politics of divisiveness is much harder to sell in America. Gingrich understands this. He believes that his ideas will win out. We hope he is wrong because we see no plans for addressing social injustice in them, but the message here is that at least we can get back to discussing ideas again.

As the GOP licks its wounds after two crushing defeats in national elections, they will have a choice to make. They can turn inward, toward the bigoted right, toward the sensationalist, flag-waving, "remember the old days" crowd of Sean Hannity, or they can look forward to a multicultural world in which their ideas have a fair chance of gaining hold. It is not clear yet whether their candidates will reflect such a clear choice. Those that are in the forefront are not easy to categorize.

Take Jindal, for instance. He appears to be reasonably bright. He has certainly built a nice coalition of supporters in Louisiana. But if he's hoping to win progressives and moderates with a continued revisionist history that does not acknowledge that record national deficits were tallied under Reagan and W. Bush and that ignores the systemic imbalance of our social, political and ecnomic systems, he will take his place alongside those with the dunce caps (see Sarah Palin). If he embraces ideas, rather than politics -- see George Will, for instance -- he has a legitimate chance of posing a real challenge to Barack Obama in 2012.

And why, we ask, are all the Republican "smart guys" just that: guys? Pragmatism and intellectualism are not mutually exclusive. In fact, ideology is not always as complicated as it might appear. John Boehner is an ideologue, but has not demonstrated much intellectualism. Ideologues can use heuristics (intellectual shortcuts) to seem as if they are understanding the complexities of the world. Rachel Maddow may be a good example from the left. She's very smart, and clearly consistently progressive, but that does not mean that she is an intellectual. Senator Susan Collins very well may be an intellectual, but in a system that rewards loyalty (rather than smarts) with high-profile positions and opportunities, it's not likely that she'll get a chance to lead. Where is Susan Molinari?

And while we're on the topic of dunce caps, we offer a big one to Senator Roland Burris and the small group of supporters who are trying to tie race to the pressures that the senator is facing to resign. We called Congressman Bobby Rush and others out on this pitiful attempt at generating support back when Burris was first nominated to fill Obama's seat by former Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich. Spineless D.C. Democrats like Harry Reid, who intially said that any nominee by Blagojevich would not be seated, relented when the race card was inappropriately played.

THIS WEEK, the senior senator from Illinois, Dick Durbin, acknowledged that race was a factor in seating Burris. It shouldn't have been -- at least not in this way. We believe that the appointment should have gone to an African American given the way that the seat was vacated and the tremendous number of qualified Black lawmakers available. But no one nominated by Blagojevich should have been seated, and arguing that Burris deserved it because he is Black feeds into the stereotypes that conservatives have about racial progressives. So not only was the tactic inappropriate, it has been counterproductive to genuine moves toward racial justice.

When Barack Obama moved into the White House, we breathed a collective sigh of relief because even when we disagree with him (like when he invited an openly homophobic preacher to pray at his inauguration), we know that ideas are at the center of his thought process. Obama will be pragmatic (which involves making progressives angry at times), which is consistent with intellectualism. He understands that the world is complex, and he has a vision for a better America. There are Republicans who feel the same way and who have their own visions. We look forward to future battles of ideas by the smart kids.