Recommended posts from elsewhere: Red light politics

 Hear, hear! This is not a new post, but still evergreen. 

Do NOT debate another person or group's humanity. That is NOT up for debate. 

https://redlightpolitics.info/post/65432741342/why-i-dont-debate

Dinner Guest: Me

by Langston Hughes

I know I am
The Negro Problem
Being wined and dined,
Answering the usual questions
That come to white mind
Which seeks demurely
To probe in polite way
The why and wherewithal
Of darkness U.S.A -
Wondering how things got this way
In current democratic night,
Murmuring gently
Over fraises du bois,
"I'm so ashamed of being white."

The lobster is delicious,
The wine divine,
And center of attention
At the damask table, mine.
To be a Problem on
Park Avenue at eight
Is not so bad.
Solutions to the Problem,
Of corse, wait.

From: Randall, Dudley (Ed) (1971) The Black Poets

Comment: It is now 2020 and we have not really progressed that much, have we?

A poem to start the year

I ended 2019 with a poem, and I find myself starting 2020 with one too. Yes, it is a bit lazy, but that might also depend on one's goals.

I am currently reading The Black Poets by Dudley Randall and this is one by the editor, which has an important message (as all good poems should, having said which, see the HML principle).

Black Poet, White Critic 
by Dudley Randall

A critic advises
not to write on controversial subjects
like freedom or murder,
but to treat universal themes
and timeless symbols
like the white unicorn.

A white unicorn?

Was wondering if I should comment on the poem, but realised that would be whitesplaining.

So will leave the poem to speak for itself.

Some impressions after my recent trip to the US

I just returned from a two week holiday in the USA. I have travelled to New York a few times, and once to visit a friend in Washington D.C. My motivation was a longstanding desire to see redwoods. As I am not getting any younger, and have a well paying job, and am not afraid of travelling alone, I decided to "just do it" and to travel to California. During those two weeks I was in San Francisco and the Sequoia, Kings canyon, Yosemite and Redwood national parks. The nature was simply phenomenal, but that is not what I intend to reflect on now. Rather, one of my motivations for this travel was a sort of to 'get it over and done with'. What I mean by that is that I am not particularly comfortable with the USA which I have become familiar with on the internet and in social media. I also have a personal notion not to visit countries which have particular politically oppressive practices. A sort of ethical tourism, if you will. I am cognizant that one cannot be too rigid on this standard as there are few countries which are not criticism-worthy (case in point: my own country of Norway and our deportation practices at present). The US, with their current actions to separate and intern children apart from their family is without a doubt on that list of dubious and unacceptable practices. So it was with a certain holding-my-nose that I undertook this trip. Hence the "get it over and done with" attitude.

I was however acutely aware that I do have a tendency to over-dramatise and certainly as I both think a great deal, do set myself up for both unnecessary fear. Thankfully, I am quite used to being disappointed. In fact, I live so much in my own mind that I have gone my entire life, waiting for that "racist situation" which I could respond to, and thus far been disappointed. Thus far, but I will revert to that.

Now while the physical beauty of California definitely lived up to my expectations and was, well, breathtaking, in an unironic sense, so unfortunately did the aspect of racism and other USian particularities. Bear in mind, furthermore, this was California, not Alabama nor Mississippi. So what was it that I stumbled across?

First, the homeless in San Francisco. I am used to seeing homeless people in Anglo countries. Poverty is by no means unique, but there are somehow always more homeless people on the streets of UK, Canada or the US than in other countries I have been in. San Francisco, however stands out. It did not help that my hotel was just on the streets of choice, but my practice of walking the cities I visit would anyway have exposed me to all of these. As I sit here, I still feel somewhat overwhelmed by the misery. I kept it at a distance there somehow. The last day I was there I was witness both to someone smoking crack as well as someone I suspect was about to take a snort of cocaine. What I could not fail to notice however, was that probably about nine of ten of the homeless were people of colour. 

That was all bad enough, but I also witnessed unambiguous white privilege-going-on-racism in action. An old white man who insisted that a black man in a Peet's Coffee was sitting in "his seat". I do not doubt he would have responded the same way had it not been person of colour, but it was a person of colour. Who was ready to dig in (and I was not surprised at that).  I made my feelings known to the white man (told him he was being an arsehole). Nevertheless I did not stay to see how it would turn out. I am at a loss even now to know how best I should have reacted, to be a true white ally. On the one hand, I am so emotional and am afraid of my own reactions, which are rarely useful. On the other, I am sorry that I did not at least wait a bit and make a fuss with the fact that the staff appeared to be taking the side of the white guy and not buy a coffee there.

This should haunt me for a while. I think I would need help (training?) to handle such situations in the future.

Anyway, you can imagine my relief to leave the city, whatever its charms. The next situation which arose however (so much for my anticipation that as usual I was over-dramatising in my own mind that more likely than not, I would not notice much, as is the case in most Western European countries I visit), was a car in the northern Californian city of Eureka. A red car of some kind, which had an affixed antenna-flagpole on it, with two fabric flags fluttering in the wind as it drove. One US flag (one sees enough of those in the US), but also my first Confederate flag. I wish I could have taken a picture at least, but I was myself driving. Someone went to the trouble of attaching that to their car. Wow. I know how I would feel when I see an old South African flag, and this is without a doubt even worse. I would feel the same way if I saw a Swastika flag.

It was sickening.

So the US lived up to my worst expectations I am sorry to say. It took me back to my childhood in apartheid South Africa.  😔

On guns...

Additionally, the last weekend before I left, I was trying to put petrol in the car and was struggling as most of the "gas pumps" require a card attached to a US zip code to do so. A man who heard me mention I was from Norway (he has family here) made conversation (and helped me with the petrol), and we had a short chat. It was the day after the El Paso and Dayton shootings and we got into a conversation about gun control. Turns out he was a hunting enthusiast and owns a mere 60 guns himself, including some so-called assault rifles (so much more humane for hunting he assured me). He could see there was a problem with access to guns in the US, and not an especially unpleasant guy at all. It occurred to me that as the owner of literally more than a thousand books, I could understand the attractions of collecting something you are fascinated with. (Let it not be said that I am unfair). Then again, sixty guns which have as their raison d'être to kill. It is not quite the same.

As it turns out, 55 people were killed by gun violence in the US the two weeks I was there, including the 22 in El Paso and the 10 in Dayton (source: https://www.gunviolencearchive.org/reports/mass-shooting).

Fifty five.

That is 3,9 people per day I was there. 

The nature was simply spectacular and worth the travel. As for the rest, what comes to mind is the assertion I see fairly regularly by leaders in the US when comment is being made about the concentration camps and the such on Twitter who assert: "This is not who we are".

This is exactly who you are.

To quote Bob Gass, a Northern Irish preacher I heard what must be almost twenty years ago: what is not acknowledged cannot be changed.

Three thoughts about white privilege

1. I am white and I am so privileged, it is, in fact, tragic.

2. Once you have been introduced to such a concept, start to understand what it is, you see it everywhere. I wish white people did not feel compelled to live up to the stereotype as wholeheartedly as  they do. It is uncanny. I dare you to write your own story, not live up to a white one.

3. I believe in ultimate justice. Karma, if you will.

Whites are so fucked.

p.s. I am back! (I think)

Charlotteville and confronting whiteness

America. 2017. pic.twitter.com/idE2JK8Jtn

— Shaun King (@ShaunKing) 12. august 2017

I have come to the conclusion that this blog is a kind of therapy for me. A place to think aloud. Now, yes, you are probably right - I should just get a therapist and yes, does the world need yet another white voice? No. On the other hand, as a white person coming to grips with the inherent racism in Western society (my society) and not to mention white supremacy, not to mention because I am "stuck" here in Norway and so cannot go join a march somewhere in the US (nor am I engaged in such a manner as to be aware should someone here in Oslo be taking such an initiative, something I would be inclined to organise if I myself were an organiser, yes, yes, excuses, excuse).

Anyway, let me continue. My mind is, well percolating on the events in Charlottesville, Virginia and the USA at large (including their stooge-in-chief) and there is just so much which can and should be said (and a few thing which probably should not).

Inspired by Zizek, I am trying to not get distracted by leaves or even trees when there is a wicked forest we have to deal with. So, for example, blaming Trump is just stupid. Yes, he has emboldened the monster to come out of hiding, but truth is that Clinton would simply have chopped off the head of the hydra (presumably) and the beast would go back into hiding (and if you know about hydras, you will get that analogy without further explanation). Like Zizek implied, some beasts must be dealt with (see my previous post) in the open.

Secondly, it will be typical white supremacy if the death of a white woman actually contributes to the recognition that there is a problem. But at this point I am starting to feel that better that than the alternative if this actually does contribute to realising what we are in fact dealing with. The resilience of our ability to avoid and forget is however perhaps the only human quality comparable to our general stupidity (ref. Einstein attributed quote: "Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I’m not sure about the universe").

He said he would 'Make America Great Again.'#Charlottesville pic.twitter.com/BQd1jyhbyv

— James Melville (@JamesMelville) 12. august 2017

I have now posted two tweets with pictures, which in conclusion I want to make some observations about, which I feel kind of sum up what we as whites need to chew on, but in particular whites in the USA.

With respect to the first picture, there are three things that strike me:
1. The Nazi salute(s) on the right of the picutre;
2. The red, so-called kleagle KKK robe being worn by the guy behind the policeman; and
3. the poster being held by the guy on the right, which is both Anti-Semitic and goes as far as to quote New Testament scriptures to justify this.

With respect to the second twitter, note that these participants consider it entirely acceptable and even appropriate to wield a Nazi Swastika and the Confederate flag in tandem.

Let all of this sink in.

I have a thousand problems with these two images, but the one which outrages me the most is the one where there is a clear and unmistakable part for Christianity in this situation. You who claim you love Jesus Christ of Nazareth and support the stooge-in-chief, take a good long hard look at yourselves, and preferably also your Bibles. Because something is, well, just a tad awry, and as you guys would claim: 'it ain't the Bible'. (Will leave it at that for now).

This must be roundly condemned by all who do not want to be associated with these unmistakable and egregious symbols. And we whites living in other parts of the world should not fall into the trap of seeking to merely 'other' the whites in the USA. Last time it was it's worst, it was us. The TV, entertainment and technology we enjoy are from this country. We need to be more considered in our response to it, because truth is, it is not as far removed from our white and Western lives as we would like it to be at this moment.

Black Lives Matter

Probably the most profound learning and growing experience I have had the past few years has been that of the Black Lives Matter movement.

I was doing my Masters degree in Edinburgh, and although already on the way, thanks to a South African friend who was at that stage posting lots of stuff on Facebook which played a huge role in educating me about white supremacy (although that term has gained much more traction since then).

I remember Michael Brown, Freddie Gray, Tamir Rice, but perhaps it started with Trayvon Martin. And it has not stopped since. I can name quite a list without too much effort: Sandra Bland, Rekia Boyd, Eric Garner, Philando Castile, Akai Gurley, Walter Scott etc. etc. There are too many.

Let me take a step back: I am a white South African. I grew up in Apartheid South Africa. I am an English South African, whose father faithfully voted PFP though out my childhood, and who was horrified when my friends admitted their parents actually voted NP. But never politically active. My mother, you may be wondering, did not vote in South Africa. She remained a Norwegian citizen for the duration of her forty plus years of living in South Africa and I like to joke that her most notable anti-apartheid protest was to ensure that both her children received the most Norwegian names conceivable.

She did however have a picture of a crying black girl in the house, and as adults she told us that she had intended that we would ask why she was crying. That would be the basis on which to explain apartheid to us. we never asked. I was not actually one to ask questions. Rather I observed the world around me and came to my own conclusions. Funny thing is, while I may have barely scratched the surface, I was never way off either. I realised that black South Africans lived differently. I pieced it together that it was wrong. And I was born with an inherent sense of fairness which told me it was wrong. Very, very wrong. And so I felt uncomfortable in my own skin as my awareness of the world around me grew. And I dared not think too deeply and suppressed the need for answers as a form of protection. I made good use of my white privilege.

But I remember so clearly the moment it all changed. I was living in Norway for a few years in the early nineties and I came across Steve Biko's book, I write what I like, in the library. So I took it out. Before reading it, I paged through the pictures in the book and my glance fell upon one photo, which seemed a bit more familiar, and the name was certainly a shock. It was someone I knew and respected. Could I even be so bold as to call her a friend? Yet, she had been detained by police and even tortured. And suddenly Apartheid became so much more real to me. And I was ashamed. I was so ashamed of being a white South African.

To cut a long story short, that shame pursued me for many years, until the freedom of discovering that Black Lives do indeed matter. That may seem like a paradox of sorts to you, but let me explain. I am a racist. Of course I am. I grew up in Apartheid South Africa, how could I not be? Even my parents efforts to raise me more non-racist than many of my peers could not escape that. I was a product of my society. And therein lies the freedom. Unlike the myth that racism is a personal foible, the idea that racism is a structural and institutional reality which churns us all out makes perfect sense. It is not something I chose any more than a black person chose to be born in South Africa. BUT that in no way lets me off the hook, far from it. Let me repeat that: far from it.

The Bible says that "For everyone to whom much is given, from him much will be required; and to whom much has been committed, of him they will ask the more" (Luke 12:48b). So we who are white living in a racist system have been given much, no doubt about it. And it is not about. being a white saviour, again, perish the thought. (Quick disclaimer: I grew up in a christian home and spent my entire childhood in that sub-culture. I remain an ardent admirer and dependent of Jesus himself, "christians", not so much, to put it mildly. Thankfully, there are exceptions.) So to speak in the terms of that sub-culture: white saviours are in my view akin to 'idolaters' and those who understand what I mean by that will also understand the consequences that image implies.

Rather we whites need to check our privilege. We need to stop erasing the voices of the rest of the world. We need to sit down and with time learn how and, quite importantly, when to use our privilege to amplify their own voices. We need to voices of justice and equity and restoration. There is so much I could write I suspect. But I am still learning.

And now, with social media and the internet, there are so many "opportunities" to speak. Whether one will be heard in the cacophony of what is 2017, is another question. There are opportunities to learn to write books, feature articles, blogging, ad nauseum. But it occurred to me: am I not just another white "Becky", wanting to be heard. Are there not enough of us? There is a fine balance to be found between taking space and being a voice for change and justice. So this is the question I am grappling with now.

Please join me on this journey.

Follow up to "After the Party"

Wow! How kul - a comment!! Now THAT is inspiring :)

Yes, in case you're wondering have just spotted a comment, made two months ago to my posting after I read Andrew Feinstein's "After the party". Which in turn reminded me that as a follow up it is worth noting that subsequently the Constitutional court in South Africa has ruled that the appointment of Menzi Simelane to the position of head of the National Prosecuting Agency (?) was not rational. Okay, that may seem absurd, but that is the long and the short of it.

It gives one hope really, although things are more challenging than ever. Especially as last week the Economist had South Africa on its front page and it was depressing reading. What also threw me for a loop was not one but two things I read subsequently. In the one, an article from the Daily Maverick, where the writer argues that the Economist is giving into a stereotypical view of Africa as hopeless. In the other, a letter on facebook, the writer lambasted expats for contributing to the negative of South Africa overseas (which I do agree with!). On the other hand, I do fear that both of the writers are also being a bit naive about the challenges which South Africa is facing at the moment.

However, I have to say that it fills me with some pleasure that in both cases the writers are white. Far too many white South Africans are precisely so negative about South Africa that I actively make sure the same could never be said of me. That said I will not gloss over the challenges. That would be disloyal to what was achieved when Apartheid was overthrown.

Now this is the type of musing which I may in future put on my new blog thinks&writes.

Eight things that made their mark on me from ”The Autobiography of Malcolm X.”

1. Am I sure I am not a racist? One is the product of the context of one’s life, and I grew up in apartheid South Africa – a white South African. It would therefore perhaps not be any surprise that I have been quite petrified of being considered a racist. (At least as it pertains to ”black” people, less worried about being disparaging about ”whites”!). Nevertheless, this book was quite tough to real, especially in the beginning – where the author is quite candid about his feelings about white people, all white people. Which put me on the defensive, quite decisively so! However in the end I made peace with it. The truth was that I could understand it. We all do the best we can.

2. An indictment of Christianity – This book does not make me proud of my fellow Christians. Why is it that we have participated and perpetuated so much racism within the Christian church? I just do not understand! It is shameful, and something which needs much repentance.

3. Why he was Malcom X – I hate to sound pretentious, but I was actually moved when it emerged why he changed his name from Malcolm Little to Malcolm X. It is a dramatic indictment on the history of African-Americans. Nor can I look away from the irony of his original surname: Little. I could not think of a less appropriate name for this particular man, who was anything, but.

4. Thinking for yourself: there is no doubt that Malcolm X was a phenomenal man. Yet I am not sure that I will be able to fully appreciate what it was about him. If for no other reason that my the draw of genetics, I am a ”white”. A white South African at that. Yet even I could sense a greatness about him. What struck me the most, however, was the realisation that great men do not spring full grown from the head of Zeus! They are the product of their lives, and Malcolm X was no exception. It was particularly striking when he realises that he has not been thinking for himself, but rather blindly been following Elijah Mohammed’s thinking. Even Malcolm X had to figure out what he himself thought about things for himself.

5. Racism in 2010: Reading books by black consciousness writers have been defnining moments in my life. When I read ”I write what I like” by Steve Biko, I discovered that one of my colleagues at university at the time had been a fellow detainee and torturer victim of Steve Biko. This brought the evils of apartheid home to me such that I have spent years working on reconciling myself with the fact that, like it or not, I am a white South African. This book was also amongst the most thought provoking I can remember reading. At more or less the same time as I read this book two racist-related things hit the media. In one an African-American employee of the Department of Agriculture in the US was forced out of her job as she was perceived to be racist, i.e. towards whites. As it turned out she was anything but, and the entire affair is mind-boggling. At the same time a South African born writer was accused of racism when an article he wrote was perceived as juxtaposing car guards with baboons. I have to admit I needed to be explained where the racism lay in the article, as I did not see it myself. This latter situation made me realise that one has to accept that where so much racism has been sown over the years, there is a harvest which is being reaped! It is that simple, but means that we are no nearer to a non-racist society.

6. Who was the real Malcolm X? I did some research on the book and discovered that it is not without contraversy. There are those who believe that Alex Haley (who is apparently a more conservative African American) has ”coloured” the Malcolm X of the last chapter of the book. I am a bit sceptical of the completely changed Malcolm X, it is just a bit too much somehow. An example is that earlier in the book he contends that the biggest challenge for a interracial couple would not be the white community, but the black community’s response. However in the end, he no longer this an interracial relationship is problematic. Just because he no longer believes that white people are the devil incarnate does not mean that there would be nuanced responses to an interracial relationship. For someone who has analysed racial relations as much as Malcolm X it seems a completely unnuanced about-turn. I am just dubious, I like the human, struggling Malcolm X, I thought he was a worthy hero. Not so sure about the saint in the last chapters of the book.

7. There is something to be said about knowing something about famous people. I realised that there are so many famous people that I actually do not know anything about, other than that they are famous (and why they are famous). I certainly feel richer knowing more about who Malcolm Little/X was.

8. Know yourself. There is nothing like reading someone else’s journey through their life – and the book is written in such a way that you develop along with Malcolm X into who he became – to make you wonder about your own journey. As the sugar packets in South Africa from Hewletts say: Life is not a destination, but a journey.

Respect for Leaders

Well, it has been a while (not that anyone has noticed :-) but now suddenly I am inspired again! So, here it is:

The saga around Congressman Joe Wilson calling President Obama a liar was in the news, but even more so the response to the whole thing is quite amazing.

I am quite a fan of "West Wing" - even though I initially (naively) believed it was a vision of how the country wanted to be, and have realised that even if things were that good (which in some senses they are with President Obama), I still wouldn't be entirely satisfied (then again, who would ever be "entirely satisfied" with the state of a country, the things I say! But I digress). One of the scenes which made quite an impression on me was when President Bartlett (played by Martin Sheen) was considering whether to give Debbie Fiderer (played by Lily Tomlin) the job as his personal assistant. The exact details are a bit hazy but the point which struck me was that despite the fact that she had written a letter of protest to a previous President, she had still shown respect for the office, but referring to "Mr. President.

This made an impression on me, and even in our own country, where we now have a President which was under investigation for corruption prior to his taking office, and who also was tried for rape (and found not guilty), but who will remain infamous for saying that he believed a shower was sufficient to protect him from HIV infection! (Following on which, he was always recognisable in cartoons by our most well-known political cartoonist Zapiro, by the showerhead attached to his head). But the man is now my President, and even Zapiro, out of respect for that position, made a great show of removing the showerhead (even if it does hover above his head in most cartoons, a bit like a halo of sorts). That might not have gone as far as some would have liked, but it was still a show of respect on the part of Zapiro.

Then we come to the "you lie" incident. I have to say that I am disappointed! Even under the presidency of George W. I thought that there was still some semblance of respect (although what do I know?), but for a Congressman, during a speech in the House to yell such a thing, shows, as he admits himself, a complete lack of self-control, and I daresay, self-respect. That is one thing, the show of support however is something else, and it is astounding to me how much emotion the Health Bill seems to have invoked in the US. What scares me even more is wondering how many "christians" are the ones who are supporting Wilson and doing the heckling themselves. Like Sarah Palin's emotional rather than factual comments about "death panels". I have to be honest and say that it is "christians" like that who make me ashamed of the label!

Guys, just remember, the Bible clearly says we should pray for our leaders, and render to caesar what is caesar's. I do not understand how you can react emotionally and disrespectfully for someone you pray for. Even politics and legislation is a bit like the Bible: though we see through a glass darkly (it's not easy to fully understand everything). But I think the point that I am making is that perhaps it is time to grow up, and remember that we're to live in the spirit, not in the flesh (or by emotions), and that is what will make us a good fragrance to God. Though I may not always be able to live up to it myself, this saga with Congressman Wilson has made me think about how that fragrance is about respecting leaders, and where we strongly believe that they are not doing God's will, to pray, and when acting, act in respect, for they too are the creation of God.