This is Post-Racial, America?

I want everyone (especially you attorneys), to reflect about the perverse irony and significance of Eric H. Holder, Jr., our 82^nd Attorney General and first African American to hold this position as our nation’s chief law enforcement official, having "the talk" last year with his then 15 year old son.  You know “the talk,” right?  It’s that uncomfortable but critically necessary conversation all responsible African-American parents have with their teenage sons, where we tell them they have less legal right to life, liberty, and property than their white friends.  It’s that talk where we have to admit that all the other things we had been telling them – you’re as good as everyone else; you have rights as a citizen; if you work hard and follow the rules, you will do well in this world – well, there’s a caveat.  “But son, don’t forget you’re Black, and so you need to be 3x better, and they can stop you for being black, and whatever you do, don’t talk back, and always keep your hands where they can see them.”  That talk.

 As a lawyer I cannot begin to tell you how frustrating and humiliating it was for me to go off on Jacob several years back for leaving the house without his ID while walking Justice in our neighborhood.  No, technically we don't have pass laws in Louisiana, but civil rights attorney mom had to tell her son to behave like we do.  It's the caveat.  Of course, my tone led to an epic battle with Jacob, until my dad stepped in.  My septuagenarian father, who could not walk down Fontainbleau Drive without ID when he was a teenager -- 55 years prior to Jacob Criú Washington – agreed with me.  Perverse irony.  My dad marched to insure I had a right to buy this house in this neighborhood; 55 years later, I’ve got the house, but his grandson still needs a pass.

 I thought about that episode today when I was driving home along Fontainbleau Drive and listening to Attorney General Holder give his keynote address at the NAACP’s convention – in Florida, where thousands of African-Americans are spending their hard earned dollars buttressing the economy of a state that allowed a white man to go free after murdering an African-American male teenager whose crime was walking in a neighborhood without a pass.   

 And I thought about this photo, and Dad and Jacob's beautiful expressions, ... and Madiba.

 

Dr. Louis X. Washington, Sr. and Jacob M. Washington

This is post-racial America. 

COMING TO A COMMUNITY NEAR YOU … US!

My first essay of thoughts post-ZV (Zimmerman Verdict) were just too personal and, in some places, too incendiary to publish.  It came on the heels of me still feeling very raw about the murder of Ashley Qualls, the 25-year old social worker who was killed while walking home from work, and Jordan Davis, the 17-year old Florida teen killed for simply playing loud music too loudly.  I’ll hold on to that essay, maybe for another post.  I knew there would be morning time, church (thank you Henry), introspection, and better perspective (Thank you God).

I watched and listened to nearly three (3) hours of post-ZV analysis last night.  Sunny, and Jeffery, and Lisa, and Joy-Ann.  Then there was Rev. Al and Rev. Jackson, and Marc and Ben.  And others.  They are not omniscient; they said what we were all thinking. 

“Really?  This is justice?  A child, barely 17, left his home to go to the corner store and buy some snacks, killed by a wanna-be cop, who had been indoctrinated with an irrational fear of black males in general, and who had been told to stay clear of this black male specifically?  This is justice?  Six white women said the barely 17 year old being dead is okay … ‘See the man at the desk about your gun, Georgie.  Peace out.’” 

This is justice?  Of course not.  It’s wrong.  I can tell you why I think it’s wrong, but I’m no more omniscient than those other talking heads.  Here’s what those folks haven’t addressed:  The lesson?  That I can tell you.  Let’s start with a story.

A couple of years ago, a local politician decided to go HAM against this civil rights lawyer.  Politician used her office to encourage the IRS and the FBI to investigate the lawyer; politician asked the lawyer’s assessor to raise the assessment of the lawyer’s home; politician asked a state representative to cut-off any government funding of the lawyer’s non-profit; and then, most scary, politician told her friends to drive-by and stalk the lawyer’s house and her 16 year old son.  It’s all documented in the emails.  When the lawyer complained, the Ethics Commission, the Louisiana Bar Association, and the U.S. Attorney all responded politician had done nothing wrong.  ‘See the judge at the court about your emails, Stacy.  Peace out.’ 

This is justice?  Of course not.  It’s wrong, but it set the bar.  That’s the lesson folks!  If we allow this killing to go without penalty, then we’ve set the bar so low that you give absolutely no hope to an increasingly growing population of disaffected black and brown youth, male and female, who believe there are no rules to help them or to protect them.  If we allow this killing to go without penalty, we’re saying it doesn’t matter if you’re as good as Trayvon or Ashlee …  Make good grades.  Check.  Stay out of trouble.  Check.  College.  Graduate School. Job.  Check, Check, Check.  Trayvon and Ashlee are dead.

Coming to a Community near You…  Do you really want these young people, with this bar, set this low?  With this lesson?  I don’t think so.  Let’s flip the script and try Luke 10:25-37. 

Coming to a Community near You...  Your Neighbor, who is 56% of the working-age population in New Orleans, 70% of New Orleans’ children.  Your Neighbor, who you don’t profile, but recognize and accept because he doesn’t look like you.  You Neighbor, who you don’t pass by, but bandage and heal when he falls into the hands of robbers leaving him half dead.  Your Neighbor, who you don’t judge, but believes in justice just like you and will not rest until it comes. 

Coming to a Community near You…  Your Neighbor … Us.  Either we flip the script, or as God is our witness, we will all perish.

 

Running Into the Fire

TracieSays:  July 2, 2013

Photo credit.  Hoover Library

 

We were reminded again this past weekend about the bravery of our heroes – recognized and unsung – who run towards the fire.  On Sunday in Yarnell, Arizona the heat was overwhelming and as is so often the case, the flames were fueled by winds that spread the fire too quickly for 19 ‘Hot Shot’ firefighters to escape.  And they perished.  We mourn their loss and pray for their families.

Like firefighters, those seemingly ordinary citizens, our friends, family, neighbors, who stand on the front lines for justice also run into the fire.  And this year we commemorate a particularly hot summer in American history:  the Summer of 1963, which marked several milestones.  After Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was arrested on April 12 for protesting in Birmingham without a city permit, he wrote his famous “Letter from a Birmingham Jail” in which he responds to eight (8) white Alabama ministers who urged him to end the protests – to walk away from the fire – and be patient with the judicial process of overturning segregation.

On June 11, President Kennedy delivered a speech on civil rights from the Oval Office, to explain why he sent the National Guard to allow the admittance of two Black students to the University of Alabama.

On June 12, Byron De La Beckwith assassinated Medgar Evers, the first field secretary for the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) in Mississippi.

Summer – 80,000 blacks quickly registered to vote in Mississippi, by a test project to show their desire to participate.

On August 18, James Meredith graduated from Ole Miss.

On August 28, the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom was held in D.C.  At least 250,000 people participated, and Rev. King delivered his legendary “I Have a Dream” speech. 

And on September 15, the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham is bombed. Four young girls are killed (Addie Mae Collins, Denise McNair, Carole Robertson, and Cynthia Wesley).

1963's summer was very hot.

But Goddamn.

Nina our justice fighters did not Go Slow (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVQjGGJVSXc).  Martin, Malcolm, Medgar, and 4 little girls weathered the firestorms, and helped bring to freedoms today we could only dream of on August 28, 1963.

They keep on saying "Go slow!"
"Go slow!"
But that's just the trouble
"To slow"
Desegregation
"To slow'
Mass participation
"To slow"
Reunification
"To slow"
Do things gradually
"To slow"
But bring more tragedy
"To slow"
Why don't you see it
Why don't you feel it
I don't know
I don't know

Our justice work must continue because we are nowhere near done, we are nowhere near tired, and we are nowhere near bamboozled (Obama cannot cure our racial problems).

Today on The Good Morning Show we will talk to the adult children of Robert Hicks, who in 1963-1964 fought infernos set by Ku Klux Klan though out Louisiana with the Deacons for Defense and Justice.

And then we will turn to a conversation with Nicole Lamoureux (Executive Director, National Association of Free Clinics) and Rev. Al Sharpton (Human Rights Advocate & Host of Politics Nation on MSNBC), who are tackling a human rights hellfire abyss that is indiscriminately ravaging our nation’s poor and marginalized communities:  the inability to access health care.  These two warriors have made it their mission to call attention to this crisis and to act.

 

In the end, we remind ourselves that Go Slow is anathema to our flame-jumpers. 

They run toward danger because they know, today, tomorrow, or 50 years from now:

You don't have to live next to me
Just give me my equality
Everybody knows about Mississippi
Everybody knows about Alabama
Everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam

[Lee, cut to Nina Simone – Mississippi Goddamn, then break]

I am Rachel Jeantel

I teared up yesterday as I watched Rachel Jeantel testify.   But I don’t think I was really weeping for Rachel.  I think I cried because I saw from the outside how others very different from me, perceive me (thru the "Rachel lens"), and I felt deeply what that frustration meant.  I teared up because I'm 30 years older than Rachel, and I understand fully at age 49 there are still people who can't comprehend why I won't perm my hair and, therefore, like Rachel presume I’m militant.   I teared up because I'm 30 years older than Rachel, with a B.A., MPA, and JD, and there are still folk who won't understand me when I speak and, therefore, like Rachel think I'm unintelligent.   I teared up because I'm 30 years older than Rachel, and there are still folk who won’t understand my levels of emotion can span beyond simply catatonic or mad and, therefore, like Rachel perceive my exasperation as anger (you know … the mad Black woman).

I teared up because I'm a mom and I wanted nothing more than to fly or drive or walk to Florida and help this young lady, because I understand they don't see her.   Because we don't see that this young woman who speaks three languages is far wiser than the idiot defense attorney who can't tell a knock, knock joke without fumbling.   Because my sisters on the web criticize Rachel even though they suffer these same indignities on their jobs, but can afford to hire Attorney Tracie to fix them.   Because she embodies all that is complex and brave and beautiful about all women of color. 

 

Because I am Rachel Jeantel.