All posts by Laura Nathan-Garner

 

Traversing Chisholm’s trail

A conversation with director Shola Lynch about her film, Chisholm ’72: Unbought and Unbossed, and the struggle to make American democracy accountable to all of its citizens.

Winner of BEST OF ITF INTERVIEWS (SO FAR)

Shirley Chisholm 1972 (photo by Rose Greene)

“I am not the candidate of black America, although I am black and proud. I am not the candidate of the women’s movement of this country, although I am a woman, and I am equally proud of that … I am the candidate of the people of America.”

–Shirley Chisholm, January 25, 1972, announcing her bid for the U.S. Presidency

Desegregation may have been positive for many people to the extent that it theoretically broadened the scope of opportunities for people of color. And by rejecting the notion that separate was equal, the Brown decision, along with the Civil Rights Acts that became law a decade later, forced whites to recognize the existence of blacks, if nothing else. They attended the same schools, ate in the same restaurants and were citizens of the same nation.

Or so Shirley Chisholm wanted to believe. The first black woman elected to Congress and then to seriously run for president in 1972, this Brooklyn Democrat sought to make democracy live up to its name by making the U.S. political system more representative, humane and inclusive. But for all of the recognition – much of it negative and degrading – Chisholm received during her political career, she, as a historical subject, couldn’t overcome the virtual invisibility that women of color have been plagued with, even today, 50 years after the Brown decision.

It is for this very reason that Shola Lynch decided to make Chisholm’s 1972 run for the White House the subject of her first feature film. When I sat down with Lynch to discuss the making of Chisholm ’72: Unbought and Unbossed, she relayed that she knew of Chisolm prior to making the film. But because Chisholm is rarely mentioned – much less discussed extensively – in history books and in film, Lynch’s knowledge about her was extremely limited.

And Lynch, it goes without saying, was certainly not the only one who knew so little about a woman who has struggled to contribute so much to the American people – be they black, white, gay, women, rich, poor or any combination thereof. Perhaps now that Lynch has made this film, which will be released nationwide by Film Movement in September, this historical error can begin to be corrected.

The Interviewer: Laura Nathan, InTheFray Managing Editor
The Interviewee: Shola Lynch, Director, Chisholm ’72: Unbought and Unbossed

(The text below includes highlights from the interview. For the complete transcript, click here)

Shirley Chisholm at a press conference with Congressman Ron Dellums in 1972 (photo courtesy of Shirley Chisholm)

Tell me a little bit about what inspired you to make a documentary about Shirley Chisholm.

Well, you know, I didn’t really remember that she’d run for president. I knew that she was the first black woman elected to Congress, and I don’t even really remember 1972. I was really young. It hadn’t really been pointed out to me, and I’m very interested in history. I’m really interested in African American history and women’s history, but she’s kind of left out of that landscape. She’s mentioned in passing, though. I was familiar with her name, but nobody has really done an in-depth study of her political work. Or even a biography, for that matter … [She wrote her own, though]. She wrote Unbought and Unbossed about her run for Congress. She had a really difficult run. That actually is a really fascinating story. And she wrote The Good Fight, which is about her run for president.

But those were both written back in the ’70s, right?

Exactly. The year after the race. So in ’69, Unbought and Unbossed, and The Good Fight in ’73. It was published in 1973. And in many ways, that presidential campaign took so much out of her. Emotionally, financially.

And she was attacked several times, right?

Yeah, she was attacked several times. I mean, it was scary, and it was definitely supposed to be a warning to her that she was transgressing her place and that she was really not fit for being there. And some of it was out and out intimidation of her.

Do you think that that was the case because she was a woman of color, or was it due to either her race or gender specifically?

You know, you can’t separate the two. Would it have happened if it was just a man? Probably. But in some ways it was more offensive to think that you had both a minority race and gender classification or guidelines. [People at that time thought Chisholm] shouldn’t have been there [running for president and speaking out against social and political norms].

I don’t remember – when did her political career end?

… She was in Congress from ’68 to ’83, and she retired because of the Reagan era … She said it was very difficult to work across the aisle and have bipartisan legislation. She was always very issue-oriented and relied on that work across the aisle – and with who[m]ever. She didn’t tow the party line. Nobody really owned her, which is great and really frustrating …

Were there certain political pet projects that she had? I know she wanted to make democracy more representative, but were there certain pieces of legislation that she worked on to achieve that end?

Well, I talked to her senior legislative aide during that period. She’s actually in the movie – Shirley Gaines. She was interested in education. And there were a couple of bills that she had passed on health care and things that had to do with issues related to the people in her community. They were largely a group of people not making a lot of money, just trying to get by in Brooklyn. And she was very aware of the need for after-school programs and for passing legislation related to that in the New York state legislature and also in the U.S. Congress.

She spoke out against the Vietnam War on the floor of Congress when nobody else did.  She worked for women’s rights and the ERA [Equal Rights Amendment] …

In a way, it’s very fascinating to me because she comes out of a Christian tradition. We always think of Christian tradition as very fundamentalist and very right-wing. Her Christian tradition was humanistic, and because of that, she defended broad kinds of legislation and was for human rights, and there wasn’t really such thing as gay rights, but gay rights folks loved her. I mean, she wasn’t advocating a gay lifestyle, but she was advocating human beings’ rights, and whatever fell under that broad umbrella was really important to her …

Shirley Chisholm 2003 (photo by Sandi Sissel)

… Tell me a little bit about the effect you think Shirley Chisholm had on her constituents and her colleagues.

Everybody that we talked [to] who had worked with her in Congress or on her campaign was so incredibly impacted by her energy, her commitment, her follow-through, and were completely inspired in their own lives in that way. And to a T, every person has been involved in either local politics or their own work community and shaping rules, trying to change things. It’s almost like they have a real sense of citizenship and duty from seeing her in action as young kids, well, not kids, college-age. And they are always impressed with [her] forthrightness. We think of politicians as trying to figure out how to spin things, but she just had her mind set on something. She was the same person, who believed in the same legislation and said the same thing whether she was in front of a white Southern audience or a black Baptist audience or an urban audience anywhere in the country …

Are there any politicians or activists that you think have really embraced Chisholm’s message? Can you think of anyone who might be the next Shirley Chisholm?

That’s a hard question, by the way, because I’m not aware of everyone doing her work. But Congresswoman Barbara Lee from Oakland, California, actually, as a young college student, helped run the Chisholm presidential campaign and was so inspired by Shirley Chisholm and Ron Delam and by community activism in the Bay Area that she became a politician. She became involved in local politics and then decided to run for Congress. And she stood up; she was the lone voice on the floor against giving unilateral power to our President after 9/11. You know, wow! … And she also has put a bill on the floor a couple of years ago to recognize Shirley Chisolm [H.Res. 97, March 21, 2001, referred to the Committee on Government Reform, but never considered]. I mean, it’s not legislation. It’s a public record. I think these examples are important for women, for women of color. These women are righteous in a lot of ways. You don’t always agree with them, and that’s part of the fun, too. But they’re doing what they think is best, and there’s real appeal in that.

One of Shirley’s gripes with the political system was that it wasn’t equally accessible to everyone. Would you say this still seems to be the case now? Obviously, it still seems to be.

Yeah. It’s even worse now because it’s become a self-fulfilling prophecy. More people now than …  in the ‘50s, obviously, and even in ’72 feel like they cannot affect any kind of change. Whereas, back then, it was kind of the tail end of that feeling … If you think about the civil rights movement, which was started in part by adults, a lot of the change came from protesting in the streets by young people. And the civil rights laws passed, and the Voting Rights Act passed. The ERA almost passed, or it passed in Congress, but then it didn’t get ratified by the states. [Laughs]. Then Vietnam was a huge issue.

And the voting age had changed from 21 to 18, and ’72 was the first election where all of these people were allowed to vote. That’s a huge part of the story in that it’s a historical moment that allowed her to run. You’re talking about 10 million new voters that were crazy enough to be attracted – many of them – to a candidate like her …

Carol Mosley Braun ran for the Democratic presidential nomination this past winter, but she has since bowed out of the race. Do you think the same barriers exist to a woman of color getting elected to the White House for women like Carol Mosley Braun as they did for Shirley Chisholm, or do you think those barriers have changed in some respects?

Well, I think they have changed to a degree in that because there are more women and women of color involved in all aspects of political life – not to say there are huge amounts – but it’s not as shocking. Think about Congress. Four hundred-some-odd congressmen. Think about what a group picture would have looked like for Shirley Chisholm. I mean, the people she had to work with every day. She was the first, so it was really uncomfortable. I mean, she told all kinds of stories – we couldn’t put all of them in the film – about ways in which people really felt uncomfortable around her. And in some ways, it was isolating. I mean, she built her own community through her office. It was really draining in a lot of ways.

Now there are more women in Congress, and it’s not as shocking. But there are still huge barriers because of the idea of leadership that we have – I mean, there are even barriers for some men. Everyone can’t style himself as Indiana Jones, and so if you’re a guy who doesn’t exude that kind of masculinity, you’re going to have a lot of trouble …

Oh, absolutely. One of the biggest criticisms of both the mainstream feminist movement and the racial equality movement, if you’d call it that, is the failure of these movements to recognize various other aspects of identity. Do you find that this is still a problem, particularly for women of color? And do you think there is a way for women of color to successfully work with mainstream feminist movements and racial equality movements?

Yeah, you know, the thing is, it has always been an issue, and it will probably always be an issue. And it’s a matter of how open the dialogue is in many respects, and Shirley Chisholm said this, too. The idea was that she could bring a coalition of people together, and then the reality was that coalition-building was really hard. Because women’s groups didn’t necessarily want to deal with black issues, and black folks didn’t really want to deal with women’s issues, and it was difficult … And so black women were feeling kind of left out. And Paula Giddings, who wrote When and Where I Enter, which is a history of this subject … [shows] how black women have been the fabric of American history. And she doesn’t do it with uplift and celebration, but in showing their work and showing how they’ve been able to navigate race and gender in the 18th century, in the 19th century and the 20th century. In fact, it’s the only place where I found more than passing mention of Shirley Chisholm’s campaign for president …

Granted, it’s just 2 ½ pages … She points out that in the ’70s, you see black women finding their own voice, and you see that happening in literature and in politics. For instance … Maya Angelou and then also Shirley Chisholm in politics. It’s like, okay, we have identity other than just our gender or just our race. And that’s the fascinating part. People will fixate on only one aspect of someone’s experience. It’s limiting because no one walks through the world just as their race or just as their gender. There are all kinds of ways in which you identify. I identify – I used to identify – as an athlete and as a scholar and all of the things that make up our personalities …

Shola Lynch on location in Barbados (photo by Sandi Sissel)

In the film world, women of color lack a visible presence as well. There aren’t that many films about women of color. Did you find that that made it difficult for you to produce this, your first film? I guess most of the funding for your film came from organizations with a vested interest in promoting Chisholm’s message. But did you find that you had trouble initially getting that story out and garnering support for your project?

Well, I found that I had trouble fundraising because people really wondered. I had to craft my proposals knowing that people were going to craft the relevance of it … I didn’t want it to be a biography for that reason. Not that I think a biography is a bad way to go, but she is really a woman of action. This is a story about her run for president. So it’s easier to stay away from just general celebration and uplift, which happens a lot. And I think that does a disservice because people who participate in making history don’t think of themselves as making history.

There are all of these moral dilemmas and choices that they’re responsible for. And they have to think about what those choices are and act on them. And that’s the same kind of thing we all do every day, whether we choose to ignore the choice or not, which is easier in a lot of ways … So I wanted it to be about that process. And the other thing about it is that because I am a black woman, I knew I could raise money for a film about a black woman. And that because she was not historically contested territory – in fact, the territory didn’t exist – people were like, “Oh, how nice.” And there was that assumption that this would be a nice documentary as opposed to a good political story. I mean, I knew I couldn’t make a story about the ’72 presidential election … Now I hope that this gets easier and that I don’t have to work as hard to find funding. There are so many great documentaries I’d love to make …

When I spoke with Larry [Meistrich, CEO of Film Movement, distributor of Chisolm ’72], one of the things he mentioned when we discussed your film was that they’re marketing it as a film about electability rather than a story about an African American woman. Is that how you want to see your film marketed as well?

Yeah, you know, I think too often you can get pigeonholed by your race and gender [Laughs]. And while it’s interesting and it’s good and it’s important, it is. And nobody wants to give it that short shrift.

The reason the movie is important to me is not because of her race and gender, but it’s because of her political action and the kind of politician she was. Given that time period, it’s amazing, including the race and gender stuff. And I really appreciate that about Larry’s approach to the material in the film because it is a political story.  And that’s the more interesting story. I mean, it’s like “Yeah, great, she’s black and she’s a woman. Yeah, great.” That story’s done in 30 seconds. Cheers! [Laughs]. And I think too often people forget that any story, if it’s told well, has broad appeal because it strikes a human chord.

All of that being said, what is it that you would ideally like to see your audience take from Chisholm ’72?

Oh, gosh, that’s a really hard question! A little bit of hope, a little bit of optimism that could be translated into their own lives and their own communities. Yeah, if you think about it, you know, “Democracy, citizenship, and participation.” [Laughs]. And what it means applied to us as individuals. But it’s not an abstract idea – well, it is an abstract idea, but it also translates into everyday life.

What would you hope other filmmakers might take from your story and from your work?

Yeah, I’m not as presumptuous. [Laughs]. Well, I will say that what we tried to do was tell a really good story and were aware of that and didn’t want to just rely on the fact that we had a fascinating subject. I mean, you see it happening for a lot of the documentaries now. You have to tell a story. It’s not just information strung together.

Is there anything you hope political aspirants or people in politics would take from your story about Shirley and her career?

Well, in a lot of ways, they’re the ones who can make the fastest, most effective changes right now. You know, politicians as a breed do not have to be bad people. You don’t have to agree with them, but if politicians actually behave in a way that they believe is actually good and right rather than just trying to win a game, then I think we make our world a better place. There are a lot of people on both sides, throughout the political spectrum, that feel that way. I mean, there are a lot of people who just care about winning and making sure you have a job. It’s about money and corporate interests and lobbyists. Oh my gosh. I don’t know quite how to put this. Politics shouldn’t be just about winning. It should be about doing good, but you want to win also. So I’m not quite sure.

One last question. Has Shirley seen the film? What does she think about it?

She has not seen the film.

Oh, really?

She has a very interesting relationship to the film. She almost didn’t let me do it. I had to talk her into it. So I talked her into it, and we went down and did one interview with her so we’d have a trailer to show people. She humored us basically because when we showed up, I said, “We’re going to use this [trailer] to fundraise, so I’ll be back. It might take a year. It might take two.” She never really expected me to come back, which is why she humored us. She’s good at that actually, but she’s also a woman of her word. So when I did come back, she had to do it.

And so when we told her we got into Sundance [Film Festival], she said, “Oh, that’s nice.”  But I had to explain to her what that meant because she had no conception of what Sundance was. She was like, “Oh, have fun, dear!” And I wanted to show her the film before we went to Sundance, but she said, “This isn’t a good time.” She had just moved. She had just built a house, and she wanted to move all of her books out of storage. She wanted to be surrounded by her books. And so, finally, I’m going down to show it to her next week actually.

Why didn’t she want you to make the film? Did she just think it wouldn’t be interesting to other people?

In some ways, she didn’t feel it was very relevant. I had to remind her. She said, “That was 30 years ago; I’m not sure if I want to go back to that.” She had real resistance to doing that. But I was able ultimately to convince her because I said, “It’s not really about you. It’s about future generations and making sure that they have great examples, great stories about people who tried to do good things.” Basically, I appealed to the schoolteacher in her.”

 

With this ring, you shan’t he wed

Can an attempt to promote tolerance actually be based on intolerance? This is the question many people must be asking after the Vatican warned Catholic women not to marry Muslim men because such men don’t respect women.

While there is much to be said for encouraging other religions to be more tolerant of their own people, the Vatican’s proclamation is indeed troubling. Not only is the Pope’s announcement based on a stereotype that isn’t true of all Muslim men, but by universalizing what it means to be Muslim (and male), the Vatican risks widening the rift between Judeo-Christian ethics and those of other religions. In fact, the Vatican’s proclamation sounds an awful lot like the rhetoric we heard the Bush administration use immediately after 9/11 as it sought to justify the invasion of Afghanistan in the name of liberation of, amongst other things, Afghani women from their “backward” traditions.

Am I saying that oppression of women is a good thing, or that no Muslim sects (or Jewish sects, or Christian sects, or almost every other religion imaginable) do oppress women? No. But you wouldn’t know that by listening to the Vatican’s proclamation, and that is what is so frightening about it.

Remember the intense ethnic profiling experienced by Arabs in the immediate aftermath of September 11, 2001? Remember the hate crimes that befell men and women with brown skin — regardless of their beliefs and origins — because the media and American politicans somehow convinced many people that it was in fact Islam that led 19 (or was it 21?) men to fly planes into the Pentagon, the World Trade Center, and a field in Pennsylvania? The logic was remarkably similar for it too was a logic based on stereotyping an entire religion based on the actions of a small group of men who did indeed claim to be Muslim, but whose beliefs were not consistent with or representative of all — or even most — people of the Muslim faith.

I also find the Vatican’s paternalism toward women in this statement to be a bit intriguing. If the Vatican does in fact believe that Islam is an oppressive religion and that its followers are raised to be intolerant, then why just instruct Catholic women not to marry Muslim men? Sure, the Vatican may assert that if a Catholic man were to marry a Muslim woman, he would afford her the respect that men of her own religion don’t. But he would still be marrying into her family, which likely includes Muslim men. And if he and she were to have children together, how would they raise them so that they wouldn’t practice alleged intolerance? In other words, why is it that Catholic men can “save” Muslim women, while Catholic women need to be “saved” by the Vatican? And who is to say that someone of the Muslim faith couldn’t provide a stable relationship, a sense of belonging even, for a Catholic woman?

Finally, what is also intriguing about the Vatican’s statement is that it relies on the assumption that Catholicism doesn’t oppress women and that Catholicism is tolerant of difference. But I’ve had friends who couldn’t be married by a Catholic priest unless they vowed not to ever use birth control, which many — even most — progressives consider a product of the cultural revolution of the 1960s that was essential to women’s liberation. Do all Catholics favor abstinence and oppose abortion? No. But by the same rationale, perhaps the Vatican should recognize that tolerance cannot be bred by stereotyping the beliefs and practices of an entire class of people based upon the beliefs and practices of a mere segment of that population.

 

QUOTE OF NOTE: Not that innocent

Rush Limbaugh should probably consider himself lucky that he isn’t running for office and isn’t a contestant on some reality show. If he was, I’m pretty sure that he couldn’t even get a vote of support from his own constituents on the right. For it’s difficult — I’d venture to say nearly unfathomable — to imagine anyone with half a conscience could compare the torture in Iraq with Sex and the City, Britney Spears, and Madonna. But Rush did it. And this was no slip of the tongue that the guy now regrets. As  he told his radio show audience:

Folks, these torture pictures with the women torturers, I mean Marv Albert looking at those pictures would say, “Hey, that doesn’t look so bad.” You know, if you really look at these pictures, I mean I don’t know if it’s just me but it looks like anything you’d see Madonna or Britney Spears do on stage. Maybe you can get an NEA grant for something like this. I mean this is something you can see at Lincoln Center from an NEA grant, maybe on Sex in the City: the Movie. I mean, it’s just me.

I’m all for free speech, but this guy definitely needs to be voted off the island for his unique combination of ignorance and lack of empathy. I can only hope that the vote would be unanimous on this count …

—Laura Nathan

 

Imagine all the people …

It’s been said that a picture tells a thousand words. But what does the image do for those on the receiving end of those thousand words?

The media has been flooded with stories about images lately. First, there were the photographs of the coffins draped with American flags and  filled with the bodies of American soldiers killed in combat in Iraq. Then, last week, the world saw the painful phographs of Iraqi prisoners at the hands of American soldiers (and rest assured that there will almost certainly be more photographs where those came from in the coming weeks). And yesterday, when the Justice Department announced that it was reopening the Emmett Till murder case, a case that sparked the civil rights movement 50 years ago and brought international attention to the United States’ treatment of blacks, the media harkened back to the power of an image. That is, Till’s murder arguably prompted so much attention at the time because images of his mangled body were shown to the world as he lay in his coffin. Now some are saying that the power of the image in sparking a movement for justice 50 years ago should serve as a reminder of the power of an image to produce change today.

This raises some interesting questions, however. Certainly, action is already being taken by the government to “clean house” in Iraq and to stop future instances of torture. But this is at least partially an attempt for the government to, as some would say, “cover its own ass” and ensure that it looks like it is doing something to take care of the problem.

But whether the torture will end permanently in Iraq and elsewhere as a result of these political endeavors and pressure by human rights advocates is questionable, perhaps even unlikely. For if political tides have taught us anything, it’s that images can hold our attention for only a brief while. They can motivate us to take action, but can they ensure that this action is sustainable?

Fifty years ago, images of Till’s mangled body jump-started the civil rights movement, which produced change but still has a ways to go. For now when we see images of suffering of and violence against minorities in our own country — images of people living in desolate poverty on the street or inhumane treatment of prisoners in U.S. prisons — we often consider those to be the “facts of life,” perhaps feeling sorry for those people, perhaps even giving some spare change to the person standing on the corner or even getting involved with some activist organization until it conflicts with our own schedules or until we find another cause to champion.

Am I dismissing these images of Iraqi suffering or even American suffering at the hands of more powerful people? Certainly not. Rather, I’m questioning the power of images to maintain a sustained interest and a sustained action on the behalf of the suffering — action that is not merely guided by pity or sympathy, but one that is rooted in empathy. This question may be more relevant today than it was 50 years ago given how saturated the media is with images and given the proliferation of media outlets. It’s easy to get distracted — and not necessarily with just lighthearted fare. In a time when it is often difficult to find much good in the world, a time when we seem to be learning about some new atrocity every week — while also living our own, arguably much more comfortable lives — it’s all too easy to get distracted and far too difficult to genuinely understand what the people in those images are going through, to experience the inhumanity of their suffering. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.

 

Speaking of segregation …

What happens when disenfranchised people receive too many rights? Apparently, in Tennessee they get banned from the state for violating the laws of nature by virtue of their very existence…

Or at least that’s what officials in Rhea County, Tennessee, did to gays this past March — before the county commission’s decision was reversed two days later.

To read more, click here.

—Laura Nathan

 

Are Friends there for YOU?

Thursday night marked the end of an era. If you somehow missed it, NBC’s hit show Friends finally came to a not-so-screeching halt. Whether you’re a fan of the show or not, you’ve likely noticed how uncannily undiverse the characters on the show were.

In a 10-year period, there was an Asian woman and an African American woman, each of whose characters are only on the show for a few episodes. I can’t even recall seeing any people of color sitting around as extras in Central Perk, the coffee shop frequented by the six friends.

Ross’ first wife turned out to be a lesbian, who later married another woman, but both women were as prissy and unlesbian as most of the show’s heterosexual characters.

Monica and Ross’ characters were Jewish — but only when it was convenient. Sure, Ross showed up dressed as the “Channukah armadillo” in his attempt to teach his son about Channukah, one of the most minor of Jewish holidays (though the commercial exploits surrounding Christmas might lead you to believe otherwise). But you might recall Monica and Chandler struggling to find a priest to marry them. A rabbi was never discussed or even mentioned. And Ross was married three times, but again, no reference to Jewish customs for the wedding ceremony to his British bride, Emily. In other words, Ross and Monica were Jewish when the show’s writers remembered that they hadn’t mentioned the lesbian ex-wife or Ross’ relationships with the Asian woman and the African American woman lately.

And all six of the main characters lived in large, extremely nice Manhattan apartments, despite working as a professor of paleontology (at a university that was neither NYU — save for a brief guest professorship — nor Columbia, and thus likely public and unable to pay its professors six-digit salaries), a chef, a masseuse, an assistant buyer for Ralph Lauren, an actor with little-to-no skills, and some kind of office job that is never really defined on the show. Perhaps if they were working constantly, they could afford the lifestyles they live, but they don’t. In fact, in the rare moments when these characters were shown at work, they were flirting or goofing off.

I know, I know. It is just television. It’s entertaining, and it’s no different than most anything you’d see on any other show. But I’m not sure that that is a sufficient excuse. I have never seen any statistics about the demographics of the sitcom’s audience, but from people I’ve spoken to, I definitely get the sense that the show appeals to white upper-middle-class youth and 20- and 30-somethings. And I’ve definitely spoken to more than one person who has said that he or she didn’t watch shows like Friends because he or she didn’t see anyone who looked like him- or herself on the show. That is, many people can’t identify with the show’s characters and exclude themselves from the show’s audience because the producers have excluded them and given them nothing and no one to relate to.

I know the same could be said of almost any sitcom, probably even The Cosby Show. I’m uncertain as to whether the same could be said of dramas since the only one I watch regularly is ER, which is likely an exceptional case which features doctors and other characters of all backgrounds, races, and ethnicities. But then again, they work at the county hospital, so people would probably start to wonder if all of the characters were white and well-to-do at a public hospital struggling to remain open.

Thanks to the rise of cable television, there are now networks that target particular groups of people. BET, for instance, targets African American audiences. The Oxygen Channel targets women. So there are attempts being made to appeal to diverse audiences, but it’s intriguing — even a bit disheartening — that this is occuring more as a separatist project outside the mainstream than as a way to address the lack of diversity and underrepresentation of certain demographics on mainstream television stations.

—Laura Nathan

 

Don’t believe the hype

During my cab ride home from the airport yesterday, the cab driver asked if I preferred to listen to music or the news. When I chose the middle ground, telling him that either one was fine with me, he selected something about as far from the center as possible: Rush Limbaugh.

After a while, I think I probably just tuned Rush out since I don’t remember much of what he said after a certain point. But for the first three minutes of so that I was graced with his radio show, I was reminded that everything coming out of the mouths of political commentators is just that: political.

During this particular episode of bashing-of-all-who-lean-further-left-than-the-talk-show-host, Limbaugh was ranting about the hoopla over the photos of Iraqis being tortured by Western solidiers. According to Limbaugh, everyone is overreacting and the Iraqis are “getting what they deserve.” That is, American soldiers have had to die and suffer in Iraq, so it’s only fitting that Iraqis have to pay their dues for this suffering.

Am I the only one that finds this logic perplexing? Yes, American soldiers have died and suffered in Iraq. Not all — or even most — of those deaths are the result of being tortured by the Iraqi people. Much of the blame could arguably be attributed to the U.S. and British governments that sent them to Iraq in the first place to wage a war and find those elusive weapons of mass destruction.

This isn’t to say that no Western soldiers have died at the hands of Iraqi militants, but Limbaugh’s “they got what they deserved” ignores a crucial difference. U.S. and British soldiers have been torturing Iraqis indiscriminately, stripping them of their humanity, when in fact these soldiers went over to Iraq in the name of “securing freedom” — for the Iraqi people. But by Limbaugh’s double-standard, freedom need only be secured for American soldiers to do whatever is necessary to to ensure Western dominance over the Arab world — even if that means torturing (rather than killing them with one shot) them in the most grotesque and inhumane of ways. It’s a bit frightening to say the least.

But I digress … Limbaugh continued on to say that this is clearly an isolated incident (though he never cites any evidence to support that claim) that has been concocted by so-called liberals to defeat Bush at the polls. That is, Limbaugh says that the circulation of these images and accounts of torture in Iraq is nothing more than a political ploy, that images of Iraqis are being used by Bush’s political opponents for their own ends. One can’t deny that there may be some political fallout from this scandal. But to dismiss these accounts of torture as nothing more than an election year scheme enables Limbaugh to dismiss his own culpability in fueling the politicization of this human rights scandal. (He does after all reduce the scandal to politics by dismissing the scandal as a means to villify so-called liberals).

Such politicization also ignores a crucial component of this debate: the Iraqis who have allegedly been tortured. Whether this is actually an isolated incident is unclear — despite Limbaugh’s claims to the contrary. Even if these incidents are isolated, that doesn’t make them any less distressing.

Contrary to Limbaugh’s assertion that we should stop overreacting to this “isolated” incident, we should use this as an opportunity to raise questions — not just as to whether this incident is in fact isolated, but also about how we position ourselves in relation to both the tortured and torturers.

It’s easy to dismiss the images of torture and to say that these people “got what they deserved” when you live comfortably, thousands of miles away. Limbaugh and many other conservative demagogues would likely dismiss this criticism of their privilege and objectification of Iraqi suffering as par for the course — or what Madeline Albright once termed “collateral damage.” But with the exception of Joseph Stalin, who ordered the death of his own son in the gulags, I can’t imagine that Limbaugh or anyone else who considered him- or herself human would say that the Iraqis “got what they deserved,” that this was mere “collateral damage” and chalk it all up to election year politics if they lived in Iraq, or if they or someone they loved or knew was subjected to such torture.

This doesn’t mean that the circulation of these images isn’t political or that politics don’t have any relevance to international relations and conflicts. But the reduction of this scandal to wins and losses for individual candidates and parties dismisses the possibility that the political can and should be something much larger and much more universal than the “personal” politics of Washington’s politicians implies. It dismisses a politics of compassion, which is something much more fundamental than the polling booth and congressional action.

With this in mind, perhaps it is time for political commentators of all political persuasions to refuse to understand humanity, suffering, and the events that deeply impact people’s lives to political capital, elections, win, lose, or draw. After all, winning and losing isn’t just a matter of who resides in the White House; it’s also a matter of life and death. Just ask the people of Iraq.

 

Mixing black, white, and a dab of Brown

issue banner

Whose side are you on? East or West? North or South? Haiti or the Dominican Republic? Black or white? Rich or poor?  Pro-life or pro-choice? Are you with us or against us? Pro-Arab or pro-America? Are you in or out? The categories can seem arbitrary, even childish, but the world we live in isn’t a game of red rover: Distinctions like these often mean the difference between life and death, love and hate, peace and war.

Or, for that matter, segregation and integration. The word “segregation” is used far less frequently than it was 50 years ago, when the Supreme Court ruled in Brown v. Board of Education that separate is not equal. But the fading away of that term doesn’t mean that the practice of segregation — intentional or not — has vanished. Today people throughout the world continue to grapple with differences and division — along the lines of class, ethnicity, national origin, gender, age, sexual orientation, religion, and a host of other categories.

As we commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Brown v. Board of Education decision, this special issue of InTheFray Magazine asks whether we should settle for a world of difference or continue struggling to step across the dividing lines. We begin with some historical context: Segregation’s last hurrah, a collection of Will Counts’ award-winning 1957 photographs of nine black students who defied the Arkansas National Guard to attend an all-white high school in Little Rock. In Making a nation of difference, we speak with Berkeley law professor Rachel F. Moran about how effective Brown has been in transforming racial attitudes in this country.

How do we balance our need to bond with people like ourselves, and our desire to bridge the divides separating us from others? Journalist and activist Robert Jensen examines the contradictions of being an antiracist advocate while also maintaining Illusions of superiority about his own whiteness. And guest columnist Carol Lee explores the struggles  faced by modern women who are confronted with both family and work responsibilities in We can do it … right?

Rounding out this week’s articles, we step onto a not-so-distant shore to examine the legacy of a centuries-old segregation linked tragically to North America’s own: the Caribbean island shared by two nations, Haiti and the Dominican Republic, separated near birth along lines of blood and bloodshed. In The handshake man, Justin Clark examines the struggles to fit in faced by Haitians on both sides of an island cleaved in two, while Sierra Prasada Millman, in Far from heaven, far from home, questions the possibilities of redemption for characters — and countries — trying to crawl out from the shadows of their violent histories in Haitian American writer Edwige Danticat’s novel The Dew Breaker.

On Monday, May 17, 2004 — the anniversary of the Brown decision — we will publish part two of this special issue, including:

  • Commentary by MacArthur fellow and University of Chicago professor Danielle Allen, who asks where we should look to find the energy to do battle again as we commemorate A lackluster golden anniversary.
  • Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist John Kaplan’s essay Powerful days, which recounts on the power and poignancy of images from an earlier master: Charles Moore’s iconic photographs from the streets of an America overthrowing Jim Crow.
  • Traversing Chisholm’s trail, a conversation with filmmaker Shola Lynch about her forthcoming film, Chisholm ’72: Unbought and Unbossed, and what the future holds for women of color in film and politics.
  • Chang Liu’s essay Where multiculturalism gets airbrushed, which explores how MTV airbrushes away racial differences, racial discrimination, and racial pride in marketing its products to pop culture aficionados.
  • Adam Lovingood’s photos of Marriage month in San Francisco, where same-sex couples — and longstanding social norms — fought the clock to make it into the courthouse to exchange marriage vows.
  • Jairus Grove’s reading of Heroic ethics in Ralph Ellison’s posthumously published novel, Juneteenth, which kicks off the launch of ITF — Off the Shelf, the official book club of InTheFray Magazine. Only registered members will have the opportunity to read our interview with John Callahan, the literary executor of Ellison’s estate, and participate in discussions with other ITF editors and readers about the book.

    If you haven’t already, please register on our site (it’s free) and get your copy of Juneteenth now! And don’t forget to pick up Benjamin Weissman’s novel, Headless, Off the Shelf’s featured book for June.

    Laura Nathan
    Managing Editor
    Austin, Texas

  •  

    Making a nation of difference

    Race to the finish line? Exploring the past, present, and future of racial and ethnic politics in the United States. A conversation with Rachel F. Moran.

    Colored Waiting Room. Rome, Georgia, September 1943. (Library of Congress, courtesy of Images of American Political History)

    The interviewer: Laura Nathan / Austin, Texas

    The interviewee: Rachel F. Moran, Robert D. and Leslie-Kay Raven Professor of Law and Executive Committee Member, Center for Social Justice, the University of California at Berkeley / Berkeley, California

    Fifty years removed from that fateful May 1954 day when the Supreme Court ruled that separate is not equal, scholars and people outside of academia frequently refer to the present epoch in American social history as the post-civil rights era. But what exactly does the post- entail here? How do we describe the post-civil rights era? Certainly, we can agree that the notion of “separate but equal” that maintained the black/white divide for over two centuries is no longer legally permissible. But did the Court’s ruling ensure full equality for all U.S. citizens, or did the Brown decision merely raise new questions about what should succeed “separate but equal” as the primarily social descriptor for the diverse collection of people residing in the United States? When I spoke with Rachel F. Moran, Robert D. and Leslie-Kay Raven Professor of Law and Executive Committee Member at the Center for Social Justice at the University of California at Berkeley, she shared her thoughts on the end of segregation and suggested that racial, ethnic, and class differences continue to alienate millions of people residing within U.S. borders. In fact, as she suggested, events and cultural trends of the past fifty years have not ended the debate on equality in the United States.  Rather new questions and conflicts concerning race and ethnicity have predominated the post-civil rights era.

    The landmark Brown v. Board of Education decision is often heralded as the most decisive legal victory in the struggle to end segregation. But how effective do you think the Brown decision has been in altering attitudes about race?

    Brown alone was limited in its ability to alter social practices. It was only after the Executive Branch and Congress backed the Supreme Court’s decision with the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and enlisted federal agencies to enforce this law that Brown’s broad [influence and significance could be grasped].

    Some people say that Brown didn’t make a difference because schools have since re-segregated. But I don’t think this is the case. Many people have had newfound opportunities to occupy positions of authority and importance due to the end of segregated practices. That is, Brown adopted an individualist model, so now everybody has a right [to attend a given public school, regardless of their race]. There are, however, limits to the individual’s ability to alter racial and class differences, and the best prepared individuals change [and benefit] the most.

    Although certain structural issues were not accounted for by Brown, the decision played a significant role in revising notions of what individual opportunity required. You still couldn’t undo structural vestiges as easily because the [U.S.] Constitution is built upon individual rights and limits the extent to which the federal government can regulate the states and tell them what to do. So there are gaps, but by rethinking individual rights and opportunities, people can influence these structures through the new opportunities [they gained from the Brown decision.] Those benefits are real and will be long-standing. We won’t see the black middle-class disappear. We won’t see a reversion back to pre-Brown segregation practices.

    Do you think that race continues to play as prominent a role in the United States as it did during the mid-1950s? In what ways have white privilege and more covert manifestations of racial alienation become a means of perpetuating racism?

    Well, it’s really difficult for people who didn’t grow up during the 1950s [or weren’t alive during that time] to remember how difficult things were and realize how much things have changed. It used to be that blacks would travel across state lines, uncertain as to whether there would be a hotel where they could sleep or a restaurant where they could eat on the other side. Black families would have to strategize about where they would sleep and eat.

    People tend to forget that race was inscribed in ways that were deeply humiliating and very pervasive. There was a Denver hotel owner, for instance, who said [his hotel] would tolerate pets but not blacks or Hispanics.

    Racial groups are not as stratified as they used to be; the civil rights model has become so engrained that people forget these things. That doesn’t mean race is unimportant, but the official participation in racial segregation is far less prevalent than it was in the ’50s. Even though the changes aren’t huge across the board, there are changes. There are black CEOs in major corporations. Blacks are now partners in Wall Street [law and stock brokerage] firms. In the [pre-civil rights] era, they couldn’t even get an interview.

    This, of course, has created new dilemmas. Blacks have since found some kind of an identity built around race [through hip hop and other cultural phenomena]. Now there are questions about preserving this identity that they value while also participating in institutions that are predominately white. So these new dilemmas have … happened because change has occurred. Today race still affects the way we identify ourselves and relate to each other, and inequality is still real.  But if you did not grow up with Jim Crow segregation, you can’t imagine what that was like.

    We don’t know now what the endpoint is; we still don’t know what racial utopia is or what it should look like. The worst transgressions of treating race as a caste system are over, so now we have to ask all of these questions. But we still haven’t arrived at a full understanding of what we’ll end up as. Will we be multiracial? Colorblind? Or something else?

    Saint Louis children and their parents protest transferring to a school open to black children. March 1933. (Library of Congress, courtesy of Images of American Political History)

    What impact do you think the contemporary debate concerning affirmative action in higher education and the rhetoric used by both its opponents and proponents has on the quest to achieve racial equality and privilege?

    Well, I’m of the view that a lot of this debate [over affirmative action in higher education] is [actually] about access to elite institutions. Nearly everyone who is eligible to attend these institutions is privileged at some level. They have completed high school, and in the case of graduate admissions, college. And these applicants have [achieved] a level [of success] that makes it plausible for them to go on [to college or graduate school]. So it’s a fairly privileged cross-section of people who have an education and are successful and ambitious.

    The rhetoric [surrounding affirmative action in higher education] focuses on leadership, so that the debate shifts from diversity as an internal pedagogical strategy to [understanding] elite institutions of public education and higher education as the training ground for leadership in various universities. This suggests that these institutions are the gateway to higher opportunities. There’s a huge [opportunity] gap between someone with a high school diploma and someone who doesn’t [have a high school or college degree]. [The disparity] is [growing], so the stakes … are higher. There’s a sense of scarcity; the costs of not making it are very high. People feel very vulnerable. There’s a growing gap between the haves and the have-nots. So the affirmative action debate is really as much about how race affects who gets ahead. With fewer manufacturing jobs today, more people feel [like they have to get a college or even graduate degree]; there’s a feeling that it’s all or nothing. This bigger gap [between the haves and have-nots] gets masked, however, by the way that the affirmative action debate gets framed with regard to higher education. Centering the debate on a group of people who are academically competitive — regardless of their race — ignores the people who are left behind without meaningful access to educational opportunity.

    African Americans often hear that they have been displaced by Hispanics as the largest minority group in the United States. How has the increase of Latinos affected the national conversation on race, which has historically been primarily a black/white dialogue?

    Well, up until the 1970s, it was demographically a black/white dialogue. Back then, only one out of ten [people in the United States] would identify themselves as non-white, and nearly all non-whites considered themselves black. Today, far more Americans say they’re non-white, but the portion of the non-white group who identify themselves as black is smaller. And many issues affecting race relations and racial equality still haven’t been resolved.

    It’s almost a bicoastal issue. On the East Coast, they’re still looking at the [U.S.] population in primarily black and white terms. But on the West Coast, they can’t [talk about race in those terms]. Latinos are now the majority in some parts of California. [There’s] a lag on the East Coast to come to grips with this presence [of other sizable minority populations in the United States]

    African Americans [have] a unique history and connection. Many worry that their [history] will somehow get lost in the numbers, and problems they have as a community won’t get addressed. There is also some concern that African Americans won’t be able to build coalitions.

    Although blacks, Latinos, and Asian Americans share a number of concerns related to discrimination, Latino and Asian American communities also have some distinct concerns from blacks. Both groups have grown dramatically through immigration, and so they face language and cultural barriers, internal diversity because of a range of countries of origin, and the challenges of dealing with non-citizen status and naturalization. Relatively few blacks are immigrants, and so most are native-born, speak English, and are American citizens. The challenges for black immigrants are sometimes forgotten, just as the problems facing native-born Latinos and Asian Americans are ignored at times.

    Latinos disproportionately find themselves in the ranks of the working poor, and so they often emphasize class-based concerns — lack of access to health care, inadequate job protections, insufficient resources for schools and neighborhoods — more than race issues.  

    Asians, because such a high proportion are recent immigrants, worry about being treated as foreigners. Also, some Asians are affluent and highly successful. Consequently, Asian groups worry about hitting a glass ceiling, being told that there are too many Asians at the top. So, a black/white model that is wholly preoccupied with race won’t last. What takes its place is the question, and I think that’s a complicated question. Unexpected events like 9/11 could change everything. Think about the way that Arabs have suddenly become a suspect class after September 11.

    School segregation protest. (National Archives and Records Administration, courtesy of Images of American Political History)

    That raises another question. What impact do you think racial politics and white privilege are playing in post-9/11 America? In Bush’s America where partisanship reigns and you’re either “with us or against us,” do you get the sense that more people are interrogating racial stereotypes and what constitutes race? Or have people in the United States become more complacent, questioning racism and race consciousness less frequently and less critically?

    Issues of racial profiling for national security have prompted questions about what race means. The debate [over racial profiling and civil liberties after September 11] shows that it is very difficult to define what constitutes a protected category. It is not just a racial issue; these questions also have to do with national origin, immigration, religious issues, and questions of what constitutes a relevant form of identity for intrusive practices. These are tricky questions.

    But [these complicated issues are] not what most people are talking about. They’re asking whether [one’s racial or ethnic identity] is a legitimate consideration in predicting dangerousness. They’re asking what kinds of evidence [should be admissible], how useful [such evidence] is, and how we should balance individual rights against the national good. Now there seems to be more of an instrumental balancing approach. Many people [characterize this approach as one concerning] foreign nationals and [the] threat [they pose to the United States]. Here you can see that race is being treated as distinct from national origin, religion, and political ideology, yet many Arab Americans feel that they are being racialized by these practices. This debate demonstrates how difficult it is to characterize difference in general and racial identity in particular.

    Consider how politicians and the media often talk about “the Latino vote,” “the black vote,” “the female vote,” and “the Jewish vote,” stereotyping or playing up just one aspect of the identities of the people who identify themselves as such. To what extent do you think the parameters and interests of these communities become oversimplified as a result of the media’s characterizations of particular categories of people?

    Politics has always had that feel for ethnicity, [where a politician’s message changes] depending on [his or her] audience. You always [have] a way in which you want to reach people [by speaking to their interests] in hopes that they’ll vote for you. So [politicians look at the ways in] which [particular] characteristics will reach people and make them sign on.

    It’s even trickier now. We live in a world with all kinds of media. Now there are also so many more TV stations. But newspapers and television news no longer predominate. They are being replaced by the Internet. So there’s no way to compartmentalize the way you behave with one group and keep other groups from finding out.

    [Politicians] must think about how [the way that they] cater to one audience will be perceived by others; they often say the most innocuous things to avoid angering [other elements of the population]. Now politics is more impersonal than ever. Candidates don’t connect with you; instead they have to create the illusion of connecting with the little audience at a rally as well as the whole world that might see [or hear sound bites from the rally] later [in the media’s coverage of the event].

    People used to say that [President Bill] Clinton felt everybody’s pain. Politicians take on personas like that [by speaking in] very general and generic [terms] and [creating] a brand of self [that makes] it seem like you’re someone’s friend, emptying out concepts of friendship, identity, [and] community. Everything you do is replayed on C-SPAN and the six o’clock news, so it’s hard to have a [public] personality that is real. You only have a persona, an image that’s managed … That makes it harder to do racial politics; you can’t do anything that will alienate the middle. The Democratic Party feels [like it has] been hurt by doing racial politics and then losing the white male swing vote. This has created a conservatism regarding difference. Because you have to make everyone like you, you can’t tailor your message to any group.

    … Recently, there was a study that said single women don’t vote as often as married women and tend to be more progressive [than married women]. So people started asking why the Democratic Party doesn’t reach out to [single women] and mobilize them. And the Democrats said they couldn’t do that because they’d look anti-family. It’s a case of leveling out politics to the blandest common denominator. The same is probably true for race, ethnicity, class, and other categories as well.

    STORY INDEX

    CONTRIBUTOR >

    The writer
    Laura Nathan, InTheFray Managing Editor

    TOPICS > BROWN V. BOARD OF EDUCATION >

    Supreme Court ruling on Brown v. Board of Education May 17,1954.
    URL: http://www.nationalcenter.org/brown.html

    TOPICS > POST-CIVIL RIGHTS ERA >

    Racism in the post-civil rights era
    URL: http://www.fetchbook.info/Racism_in_the_Post_Civil_Rights_Era.html

     

    Fleeing from the public/private distinction

    Think the public/private distinction died in the 1960s? Think again.

    To date, many states have yet to criminalize gender-based atrocities, such as domestic abuse, within their borders, making it particularly difficult for other parties to intervene. As James Wilets wrote in the Albany Law Review in 1997, many women’s “husbands abuse them and authorities deny help. They are raped or beaten by soldiers who want to terrorize communities or intimidate the women’s politically active husbands … they are abused in the name of custom – arranged marriages, genital mutilation, bride burnings … Unlike the traditional public acts of oppression, many of these practices are performed not by the state, or an invading army, but by the girl’s own family — mothers, aunts, sisters. They have thus been viewed as personal or cultural rather than as political matters warranting asylum.” Treating gender-based persecution as a private issue that the state could not intervene in as long as non-state actors perpetrated the harms, individual states have rarely afforded attention to the gender-based persecution that plagues women around the world.

    By recognizing the sovereignty of the family — where most gender-based “crimes” occur — international law cedes authority to regulate the family to the national government. Yet many national governments never exercise this power to intervene in such life-threatening, dehumanizing situations because the authorities are complicit in, indifferent to, or unaware of the situation.

    And with international relations and trade agreements on the line, many external states are hesitant to provide a haven for refugees from certain countries out of fear that doing so would undermine their relations with that country’s government. Historically, the United States has been no exception to this rule. For example, the United States repeatedly has to play down its criticism of China’s human rights policies that condone, amongst other things, compulsory abortions and sterilizations. Fearing the political repercussions of a criticized country like China exercising certain powers (i.e. – China’s use of its United Nations Security Council veto or increasing tariffs), the United States has often put its national interest above humanitarian interests. Even if granting asylum to women from another nation does not involve explicit criticism, the act of accepting the refugee exposes either the persecuting government’s involvement in the persecution or its refusal to protect the victim.

    But as graphic accounts of female genital mutilation, rape, bride-burning, and compulsory abortions and sterilizations have begun to leak out of many African and Asian nations with the cessation of Cold War politics of secrecy, female refugees have increasingly come into the limelight, gaining some of the attention their tribulations demand. Increased refugee flows from countries like Bosnia and Rwanda, where leadership and sovereignty changed following the Cold War, have made it impossible to overlook genocidal atrocities any longer. Likewise, globalization guarantees the integration and exposure of many countries that might have otherwise remained isolated in order to conceal the patriarchal tyranny within their borders.

    While the United States has allowed some women in for gender-based persecution in the last decade, they have found their way into the United States not as a result of specific gender-based guidelines in asylum law but rather because of some other guidelines in that law.

    The lack of a specific gender-based persecution guidelines, however, has proven inadequate. And believe it or not, if this changes, women may be able to thank the war on terrorism and the Department of Homeland Security for their newfound refugee status. John Ashcroft, currently considering an appeal from a woman from Guatemala, is now drafting rules to allow women fleeing from rape, mutilation, and other gender-based abuses in other parts of the world to gain refuge in the United States.

    I want to be optimistic about this move, though I’ll admit to being a bit skeptical inasmuch as the Bush administration has been anything but benevolent to women’s rights in the United States and abroad. But if the Bush administration is serious about this move and the guarantee of protection from gender-based persecution in asylum law, then perhaps the elements of Bush’s pro-life agenda — i.e. — protecting women from getting beaten to death by their husbands — and his collapse of the public/private distinction to make women’s health the government’s business that resonate in this move demonstrate that there can, in fact, be perks in his ideological agenda. But I suppose only time will tell.

     

    Impaired judgment

    While watching television yesterday evening, I saw a commercial — perhaps you’ve seen it as well — in which a young man offers an elderly woman a hand as she crosses the street and then asks if she’d like to go out sometime. Shortly before the viewer learns what the commercial is for, the man hollers to the woman as she continues on her way, “Hey, wait! I didn’t get your phone number!”

    And then it becomes evident that this is an advertisement for a Snickers bar, as the picture of the candy bar on the voice-over says something along the lines of “Snickers — the answer to impaired judgment.”

    Which begs the question of what it was about this guy’s judgment that the advertisers think is impaired. Is it that a young man could be attracted to a (much) older woman? Is it that this older woman is a tad bit wrinkled and walks rather slowly? And is she unattractive — even undesirable — as a result of this?

    That was certainly what I sensed advertisers were trying to say. I can’t honestly say as a 25-year-old woman that I could imagine myself being attracted to an elderly man. But the commercial’s characterization of this elderly woman as “undesirable” — except for those with “impaired” judgment — seems to degrade the value of older people in our society. In the capitalist culture informing such commericals, this seems to make sense. After all, unlike many cultures, which revere their elders, the desire for innovation, constant turnover, newness, and shiny objects is the driving force behind our capitalist culture. In other words, a culture that deems wrinkles, gray hair, and difficulty walking unattractive — and undesirable.

    Consider, for instance, an episode of Sex and the City in which Samantha discovered that she had a gray pubic hair. Desperate to maintain the interest of her hot 20-something boyfriend, she shaved off all of her pubic hair. Perhaps the situation would’ve been different if Smith had been closer to her age or if the two of them had been together for 20 years. But if her attraction to him was based largely on his youth, how could she expect him to embrace her aging body? And Samantha was only in her 40s. Imagine what it’s like for older women who have more far more gray hair (or no hair at all).

    I’ll admit that at the time I saw this episode of Sex and the City, Samantha’s response seemed a bit neurotic (okay, admittedly, almost every response of the show’s characters could be termed neurotic). But the link between ageism and desirability in our culture made more sense to me after seeing a documentary entitled Still Doing It: The Intimate Lives of Women Over 65, for an article I was writing for The Independent, a film magazine, during the South-by-Southwest film festival here in Austin this past March.

    In this, her debut feature film, director Dierdre Fischel critiques the Western “rules” of attraction that discriminate against women over a certain age. It is, in a sense, a coming-of-age story about nine women between 60 and 87 who became wives and mothers during the 1950s, when gender roles were strict and sex was expected to be confined to the married heterosexual couple, primarily for reproductive purposes.

    But as the women in the film remind us, they also lived through – and are now extending – the sexual revolution of the ‘60s. Disproving popular belief in the first couple of minutes of the film, the words “80 perecnt of women experience mild or no menopausal symptoms” appear on the screen in bold font. As one interviewee asks, “Why would I be feeling [these sexual desires] if my body was too old?” Another woman reminds viewers that sex is a basic human need. While not all nine women featured in Fischel’s film have partners, each of them still has desires. Many of the women even act on these desires in places as unlikely as their nursing home rooms and on the Internet.

    And as women continue outliving men, many women have grown more open to the idea of experimenting with sexual arrangements that would’ve been considered taboo during their youth. For instance, Betty, a woman in her late 60s has taken a 26-year-old lover, whom she met online. As her lover reflects, “She’s such a wonderful woman, and I’m lucky to have this time with her before she’s gone.” Some women have taken their experiments one step further. Once married to men, for instance, two women have since chosen each other as life partners. With their days numbered, they no longer care what others think and cherish intimacy and true love.

    Are these women anomalies? Yes and no. While the nine women Fischel interviewed were the only nine women who responded to her advertisements seeking subjects for her film, keep in mind that they are part of a generation for which sex — and particularly homosexuality — was long considered taboo. And they continue to live in a culture where frank discussions about sex and sexuality continue to be considered taboo in many circles, particularly among women. Thanks to a culture that raised them to be passive, most of these women’s contemporaries have allowed themselves to become invisible. Fischel doubts, however, that babyboomers will remain silent when they pass the senior citizen threshold.

    But as Still Doing It suggests, ageism, particularly with regard to attraction and desirability, is pervasive in the United States. Consequently, it will be extremely difficult for even the loudest babyboomers to command respect — much less desirability — in a culture that privileges new over old, attractive over unappealing. In fact, even though I tried to keep an open mind while viewing Still Doing It, I was extremely unsettled for hours after the film ended. I didn’t want to think about older people having sex in a nursing home. I didn’t want to think about one of my contemporaries being intimately involved with a woman 40 years our senior.

    And I’m sure many others felt the same way. In fact, I would even guess that the advertisers for Snickers who put together that advertisement about impaired judgment thought their advertisement would go over well since, well, in our culture, most people think you must have impaired judgment to be attracted to someone who is elderly, particularly when you’re young. But given that the Snickers commercial’s portrayal of this woman as undesirable made me think twice, perhaps Fischel’s film is serving its purpose by challenging viewers to question the basis for their discomfort — and the Western rules of attraction which facilitate this discomfort and ageism.

     

    Where the pen triumphs over the sword

    It’s no secret that Jews and Arabs in Israel — indeed throughout the world — struggle to live side-by-side peacefully. Part of the problem may stem from each community’s failure to understand the other. Diplomats have been trying to offer up solutions for decades, and only time — a significant amount of it — will tell whether they succeed or merely fuel the flames further.

    In the meantime, Israeli jouralists have come up with their own solution to bridge the gap between Jews and Arabs: Start a magazine that corrects each community’s stereotypes of the other by featuring writers of both Arab and Jewish backgrounds. Launched last spring, Duet has a circulation of 170,000 in a country with a population of 6.1 million people. Not bad for a fledgling magazine. But then again, one has to wonder who those 170,000 readers are. I suspect that most of them are individuals who weren’t resolved in their hatred of the opposing community when they first picked up a copy of Duet. But what about those Israelis — particularly influential politicians and leaders — who perhaps need to read the magazine most and yet potentially lack the open-mindednesshave necessary to do so? How will Duet’s publishers ensure that the magazine makes it into the hands that wield the most influence (and who perhaps need to embrace equality and tolerance the most)?

    Perhaps the magazine’s best marketing strategy comes from its pool of writers. Given that Duet relies on volunteer journalists from across the country — instead of a staff of writers — maybe some magic can be worked. As those journalists return to work at their respective media outlets after writing for Duet, perhaps they’ll slowly influence the ways in which the Jews and Arabs are represented in the mainstream media and, in turn, alter the way that the public at-large — even politicians — understands the other community. Smart. Very smart.