Daddy’s home!

(I felt weird about that ^ title for some reason.)

anyway, these made me shed a tear.

The Day I Met Barack Obama

It was towards the end of spring 2007 in New York City. Despite never making a concerted effort, I was somehow always abreast of who was going to be at Barnes & Noble, which was how I came face to face with Amiri Baraka and Toni Morrison, and also, not coincidentally, Barack Obama.

Barack Obama first charmed me for attention when he walked out at the 2004 Democratic Convention to a rendition of The Impressions’ “Keep On Pushing”. I automatically thought who is this guy with great taste in music and the audacity to make it known to a crowd full of people who probably can’t make the elementary connection between Curtis Mayfield and Superfly.

It was to my excitement that three years later, I learned the then Senator of Illinois was going to be giving a talk and signing copies of his second book at the B&N in Union Square. Now of course, it happened to be my luck that this signing was scheduled for the same morning as one of the last days of my 11:00 class. And of course, that day was the day I had to hand in my final project of a documentary I haphazardly directed about communes in New York City. So without the option of skipping, I sent an e-mail to the professor, whom I happened to really like, explaining that Barack Obama was going to be at Barnes and Noble and maybe she should take the class because that’s where I was going to be. I assured her it shouldn’t run too long because it was supposed to start early, but if it did I would find a way to make an appearance in class.

Needless to say, I woke up early enough to catch the tail-end of his speech and then to be told I was standing in line to get my book signed for naught because he wasn’t going to hang out and sign all these people’s books. Time was running low so I passed the torch to my partner in crime who agreed to stand in line because we concluded that he wasn’t the type of guy to just take off after a speech and break a bunch of people’s hearts who took off work and skipped class to see him.

I beat it downtown for my class, screened a piece of the doc and vomited some nonsense about intentional communities and Thomas More. I was losing the hope of making it back in time to get a book signed but was restless enough to still be impatiently social. Once I got a minor cue we were done, I broke out and made way back to union square. Dodging cars and overzealous cyclists, I could only feel the swelling regret of the millions of people I was passing who were, unfortunately for them, not in on the secret that the next POTUS was right under their bloody noses.

Upon arriving at Barnes & Noble, I scaled the 728 flights of escalators to the top floor only to find that Barack Obama had signed everyone’s books and now he wasn’t signing any more. In fact, he was standing up to button his suit jacket because he was going to leave now. I stood in a crowd of other faces with color, people who had probably come in late off the street when they saw others exiting with their signed copies of The Audacity of Hope, still wiping the glory from their eyes. I stood there and watched him walk from behind the long table where he was sitting, offering everyone a wave in his ordinary and diplomatic way. I adjusted my black cap with its red, green, and gold stripes and also found myself wondering why I was wearing it anyway. I was buried behind folks who looked (and acted) like my aunts and uncles, calling for Mr. Obama, throwing their arms about, and employing other guerilla fan tactics to get his attention. Behind all of them, I stood still and in awe of how tall and slender (and okay, handsome) he was IRL.

Somehow — I don’t know if it was the “rasta” hat, or the fact that I was the only person under 30 in site but whatever it was — he spotted me. And this part I only remember in fragments, either because I had no idea it was happening or because I couldn’t believe it was happening, but he began to walk toward my barrier of excited adults, which now seemed much smaller than before. He said hello to everyone through their shrill and somehow — and I still don’t know how he did this without being rude but — he stuck his arm out, and the layers of curious bodies peeled away and there was his hand. Suspended in front of me. And apparently awaiting a handshake. I can’t even remember if he said anything because I was too busy tearing up and trying not to cry and thinking about what I could possibly say to change his life at that moment in some kind of relatable capacity.

I resorted to the conclusion that I should just look at him in his eyes. You have tears in your eyes, I thought. And that will be enough.

And so I did. With my mouth shut, not only because I had no words but also because if I had found them, they’d probably be tucked away somewhere under tear ducts, I shook Barack Obama’s hand. I don’t remember but two shakes probably because that’s what they teach you at conferences about careers in business. And with a firm grip because that’s what my mother taught me growing up. “Nobody likes a limp handshake,” she’d say, scrunching her nose at the topic of women whose droopy hands were always available for the shaking to whoever fancied a squeeze.

I still have the hope that those few moments, scarce amongst the multiple involving handshakes and tears, branded an image, even if ephemeral, in the freedom of the president’s consciousness. I hope when he sits down to talk about poverty and the world and children and education and living for a long time that he will maybe not remember me but perhaps remember forgetting a time when there was a moment inside of which he was changed.

On Tyler Perry

Entertainment Weekly recently ran an article about Tyler Perry and “black america’s secret culture war”. I’m not sure what they’re talking about and I tend to think I’m black. but apparently, there’s a culture war in progress right under our noses, and it’s all due to mr. multi-millionaire Tyler Perry: the playwright, author, filmmaker, and actor who has created a franchise around his name and is also responsible for opening the first black-owned studio in the U.S. in October of last year. It’s worth mentioning that he also owns it all, from the movies and video library (he’s sold 25 million DVDs of his plays) to his TV shows.

There’s been a lot of talk about whether Perry is “bad” or “good” for black folks. Author Donald Bogle thinks Perry’s most famous character, Madea, is “mammy-like,” and that “If a white director put out this product, the black audience would be appalled.” Bogle doesn’t think Perry’s claim that Madea is based on an actual woman he’s known excuses the fact that she resembles a racist archetype invented by white men and forced onto black women in media. Professor at USC, Todd Boyd, also isn’t pleased with Perry’s films. According to him, ”All of [Perry's] productions demonize educated, successful African-Americans,” and he “is simply reflecting the thinking of a lot of uneducated, working-class African-Americans.”

Ouch. Then there’s Perry himself, who says that the stories have come out of his own pain and everything he’s been through, perhaps including living out of his car for a few months in Atlanta before his plays got picked up in theatres. To him, the characters are “simply tools to make people laugh”.

As someone who actually found parts of Madea’s Family Reunion funny (call me lower-class if you will), I’m not mad at Tyler Perry. His films, which are in some ways modern morality plays, speak to a largely black demographic — people who can relate for various reasons, whether they are southern, church-going, have a dream of social mobility, like seeing black folks on TV, or whatever. I can admit that I absolutely suffered through Why Did I Get Married, but just because I thought it sucked doesn’t mean it’s not a story worthy of being told.

It seems like black people get very picky about the representations of blackness that get put on screen. And this is understandable considering the long history of racist depictions by white media. But we cannot only advocate for portrayals that we like. And by we, I mean the middle to upper class, extra educated, bourgie and/or afrocentric negroes who think that a country-ass grandmother on TV who suggests throwing hot grits to resolve romantic conflict is holding back the race.

Are we only content with the token black character in Hollywood productions, or with images that we consider “positive”?

It is common for people in the Tyler Perry debate (especially white people) to wonder why — in the age of Barack Obama — we still have films with mostly black people in them? That is, films that draw on a southern black culture and a sense of humor that many white people – frankly – just don’t get. The general narrative starts: “At a time when Barack Obama is presenting the world with a bold new image of black America…” and ends with something about Perry’s films having “junkie prostitute[s]” in them. As a blogger for the LA Times puts it: “Even after America has elected a black president, it remains a country that is–especially when it comes to TV and movies–culturally divided.” Is this true? “Divided” or “different”? Because some of us voted for the individual Barack Obama, are we suddenly expected to share the same values, culture, sense of humor?

And why don’t we talk about the election of Obama and white Hollywood? “Mainstream” film has been construed as catering to the majority of Americans although, since the 1920s, it has told a very specific middle-class, suburban, white, hetero-normative story. “Mainstream” films can be considered to have a “submerged racial presence,” in that they do not thematize race per se, but they do engage humor, stories, and culture that draw on a particularly raced experience (Dig Unthinking Eurocentrism by Shohat and Stam). When we go see a mainstream Hollywood movie where the cast is ninety-five percent white, rarely (if ever) are questions posed about the necessity of such films in a “post-racial” society. But because TP tells stories that happen to revolve around black characters, his products are labeled “specializied,” racialized, and obsolete. This is because the white American public is not familiar with black spaces in the way that everyone is familiar with white spaces. And it’s not because black space is any more private, but because mass media has been exposing everyone to the ins and outs of white life for decades so that we are all accustomed to a certain humor that draws on a widespread understanding of white culture.

The arbitrary connections between Barack Obama and Tyler Perry imply false notions of post-race as well as exaggeratedly raced readings of Perry’s films. Obama is painted as the face of our “post-racial society,” and Tyler Perry as a vestige of “race movies” – black productions created by black people in the early 20th century that presented alternative narratives to those of the exclusively white film industry. It’s like Obama is what we like about black people, and the TP is what we don’t. But why can’t the two exist together, as dialogical components of a larger recognition of difference? Why can’t they both present images of blackness that we can watch and accept, without necessarily ingesting as absolute truth.

I’m a fan of diverse (and preferably complex) representations. They don’t have to be reflective or realistic, as long as everything is not The Cosby Show and everything is not Shaft. Perhaps people are up in arms because in the gaping absence of national minority representation in media, Perry has the authority of being the foremost employer of black actors/actresses and the most widely watched storyteller amongst black audiences. But that is an issue of lack of representation and shouldn’t be addressed by attempting to narrow down the few existing representations into an image we prefer. Regardless of how artistically or politically progressive Tyler Perry’s films may seem, he is pulling in record-making numbers at the box office which means he is reaching sizable audiences on a consistent basis. And because these audiences are predominantly black and latino, white critics have been drastically off the marks with their predictions, and are having to cope with a loyal audience that was previously rendered invisible. But this is an important audience, TP is an important filmmaker, and to dismiss him would be to dismiss the spectatorship of a bunch of people who — to the dismay of many film and culture critics — are basically dictating what’s popular right now in Hollywood.

Post-Obama America

There was an article Wednesday morning in The New York Times about the aspirations of the Obama administration to expand fed power in order to gain the authority to take over and/or close any failing financial institution that is considered “systemically important”. According to the article, the government has long been able to take over and close banks and other deposit-taking institutions, but this new legislation would extend that power so they could seize insurance companies like the notorious A.I.G, investment banks, hedge funds, and private equity firms as well.

As I was reading it, I was kind of like yeah okay sure. I’m relatively comfortable ‘expanding government’ with a president whom I’m convinced is not dumb and/or trying to screw over 95% of the world’s population. But then I started thinking, what about the world after Obama? What about the U.S. post-2016? I surely wouldn’t want a GHWBush or even a John Kerry in charge of taking over anything, be it a financial institution or the steering wheel of a car.

I started to worry for a second… but then I realized that after Obama’s eight years of service, the culture of this country will be quite different. I don’t mean to be blindly idealistic, but I don’t think someone like a George W. Bush would have much of a chance at getting elected after Barack Obama. And I’ve never been a cheerleader for tokenism, but it’s nice to see that even the Republican party is realizing it’s okay to not be old and white (and perhaps someday, male). I mean, it’s good to be reminded that right-wing **ckery comes in color too.

But in all seriousness, I believe having Barack Obama in office will not only change the face of American politics, but also the energy of American culture. With George W. Bush in office, it seemed completely okay, if not popular, to be bullheaded and ignorant. And I don’t mean to suggest that Bush signifies the advent of celebrated stupidity in American culture, because I think we have a history of priding ourselves on an exceptionalism, part of which entails exemption from participation in meaningful thought. But because the last 8 years are most recent, and in some ways, exemplary, I want to draw on them for comparison. In many ways Bush played into the tropes of American outlaw culture that have been so prominent in shaping how we conceive of heros. He was our cowboy (some of us were Indians), and some people enjoyed the fact that he made decisions based on his gut. He was a self-described “war president,” who prided himself on seeing the world “the way it is”. Whatever that means.

And perhaps it’s just me but it seemed as though people embraced the ways in which Bush was casually dense. He was the political component and symbol of a larger intellectually lazy culture. And having such an image at the ‘top’ of the country made for a kind of trickle-down culture — one in which the “masses” internalized and to an extent (although perhaps not consciously) emulated the values embodied by their highest ranking political official.

Barack Obama gives us a much different image for our country. He represents what is hopefully the beginning of the end of the vilification of intellectualism in America. We have been a decidedly anti-intellectual country, a problem that was undoubtedly perpetuated by Bush and his lack of cerebral engagement in a realm of secular politics. And while conservative analysts like to get on Obama’s back about making matters “too nuanced” or being too articulate, it is precisely his reluctance to simplify complex issues that we should be pleased with. I was impressed and proud when, at the press conference on Tuesday, Obama answered CNN’s Ed Henry’s question about why White House outrage over AIG was so delayed by saying: “It took a couple of days because I like to know what I’m talking about before I speak.” Woo, I hear that.

Barack Obama is possibly emblematic of a new wave of American politicians and an invigorating shift in American culture. He communicates neither the American exceptionalism nor the smug chauvinism of the Bush era. He performs a masculinity that is refreshingly unassertive and almost consequentially cool, as opposed to the in-your-face machismo and arrogance of Bush that depended strongly on the assumptions of patriarchy for its narrow appeal. Barack Obama validates a reasonable and justifiable confidence — one that is based on actual qualities (intelligence, charm, achievement), not inherited status.

Hopefully through the years of Obama, we will revise how we view politics and how we see ourselves in the world. Perhaps by 2016, we will have grown out of the old habit of completely delegitimizing left politics with red scare rhetoric and accusations of irrational idealism. Perhaps the right will stop garnering support based on appeals to underlying fear, greed, and xenophobia. Perhaps we will catch up with the ‘developed’ world and realize what most people already know about public goods and civic commitments — that we should have them, and that in fact, we are owed them. And in addition to our long overdue political revelations, maybe American culture will make transformations as well. No more making it seem as though climate change is a paranoid liberal myth. No more glorifying political decision-making based on “instinct” or religious beliefs, and no more acting like it is okay to hold obviously un-/misinformed opinions. The “average joe” does not have to be a total nitwit. In other words, no more being assholes. Post-Obama America will have shed the oily skin of the Bush years to emerge a politically renewed and culturally vitalized people, ready for the challenges of development and desiring better qualified and of course more competent representatives for our future.

Obama against cigarettes, against poor people.

The Fox Forum posted a blog about “Obama’s Top Five Broken Promises” a couple of days ago. According to the writer, Phil Kerpen, one of the five notable promises that the president has broken is the one pledging “no tax hikes against the poor”. The argument is that Obama promised not to increase taxes on families making less than $250, 000 a year, yet he signed a bill in February that will increase the federal tobacco tax… and most people who smoke are poor so he broke his promise. Kerpen writes:

By signing H.R. 2 into law, Obama happily signed onto the idea that smokers should pay for a $35 billion expansion of the State Children’s Health Insurance Plan (SCHIP). Cigarette taxes are going up 61 cents a pack starting April 1. Obama signed this bill knowing that the majority of smokers in the United States are working poor, and one in four lives below the federal poverty line.

how dare obama make smokers pay for children’s health care. that’s clearly an attack on the poor. can’t he just legalize coke and tax that, or something?

i might be biased because i don’t smoke but i think this argument is really wack. am i missing something?

“Where the food at?”

On his first Saturday after moving to D.C., Obama went to Ben’s Chili Bowl with D.C. mayor Adrian Fenty to satiate his appetite. Ben’s has a deep history in the city, having been established in 1958, at a time when U Street was known as Black Broadway. When most of the city closed down after the 1968 riots, Ben’s stayed open “after curfew to provide food and shelter for activists, firefighters and public servants desperately trying to restore order.” I’ve been there for socializing purposes, although I can’t boast that I’ve ever ordered anything. Dope black-owned spot though, that and MaggieMoos, among others.

From January 11 Tacoma-based paper The News Tribune:

After Obama’s motorcade wandered through the U Street district, passing the African-American Civil War Memorial and a flea market selling shirts that bear his face, he and Fenty surprised the restaurant around lunchtime.
Patrons shrieked with delight and surprise as they saw his face. A mother blushed as Obama held her baby in his arms. The president-elect and the mayor moved slowly through the restaurant’s crowded rooms, shaking hands and getting pictures taken with patrons.
Still, they came there to eat. “Where the food at?” Obama finally asked the counter staff, drawing laughs from them and nearby patrons.
He and Fenty ordered a house specialty, a Chili Half-Smoke — a quarter-pound half-pork-and-beef smoked sausage on a steamed bun with mustard, onions and chili sauce — along with a big helping of some cheese fries.

Apparently, once they sat down, Obama was getting his grub on when he realized something was missing. He holla’d for them to bring him some cheese — and “not the Velveeta kind.”

That’s my dude.

Why Aren’t You Barack Obama?

We’ve created a situation where people can say “why aren’t you Oprah?” – Dennis O’Neil

This is the repercussion of promoting the idea that there exists a bootstrap economy of rewards for hard work. Combined with the subconscious public perception that all black people are men and all women are white. or that one black person can symbolize all black people.

Barack Obama is a symbol of sorts, but he is not an archetype. He is an individual.

If I hear one more black person say that now “we have no excuses”.

Barack Obama’s election is a victory, but it is not the consummation of a long and tiring race struggle. Him being president does not make it any less appropriate, relevant, or applicable for me to call out racism when necessary. Him being president does not mean that all of a sudden DWB (guess) will no longer be a crime.

The suggestion that this election marks the beginning of an era where “race” is no longer a factor (Re: will.i.am and andrew sullivan on bill maher proclaiming that race is a concern of the past) is naive and simple. The election of a black president doesn’t say anything about institutionalized racism and systems of privilege. It says something about Barack Obama, and his achievements in relation to his very specific situation.

Perhaps a more interesting question would be Why isn’t Barack Obama me?

This capitalist craze of individualism and the myth of the triumph of merit would have us think that if we all work equally as hard, we will all get equally as far. That is the lie.

By claiming that Barack Obama’s success somehow cures the reality of racism, conservatives and liberals alike are validating the widespread falsity that success in this country is exclusively merit-based. They are implying that if Barack Obama did it, everybody can do it. Because A) he represents all black people, B) race is the salient factor in mobility (vs class for instance), and C) achievement, regardless of race, class, or other factors, is solely contingent on hard work. But this is flawed. Individuals do not function separate from institutions. And, in the words of Angela Davis, Institutions have very long memories.

“Merit and rewards” is going on my list of Phrases to Disarticulate, right under “crime and punishment”.