| The persistance of racism
Last Sunday, exactly two months after the New York and Washington terrorist attacks, our country celebrated Veterans Day. On that day I remembered my grandfather, Warnette Madden, who was drafted into the army following the bombing of Pearl Harbor. The United States military was segregated until 1948. My grandfather served in the all-black 92nd Infantry Division for three years. He fought on the frontlines in Italy. He is my hero, but the flags hanging from SUV antennas don't begin to convey the bravery he showed. His struggles are embodied in the legacy he left to me and my family, not in the flag. If my grandfather were alive today to see this country after September 11, I wonder what he would say. He thought that if he served in the military, white people would give him the respect he deserved as an American. Unfortunately, when he returned from the war in 1944, not much had changed. Ten years would pass before my disenchanted grandfather saw the U.S. Supreme Court order public schools to desegregate; twenty-one years would pass before Congress enacted legislation to protect the voting rights of black Americans. My grandfather died of cancer in 1986, before he could see Douglas Wilder of Virginia elected the country's first black governor, or Colin Powell become the first black secretary of state. But if he were here, he, like I, would expect more. Don't get me wrong: This is the only country I've ever known, and I don't want to live anywhere else. But I know that I will have to fight for my rights for the rest of my life. I live here knowing that I will have to teach my future children that when you're black in this country, you have to work harder and be smarter than your white counterparts, no matter how much money or how many degrees you acquire. That if you do well, some people will say it's because of affirmative action, and that if you don't, others will say it's because you're black and lazy. Being black in this country means that you will be the only one in the room sometimes, and if you are, you will feel the stares. And if you achieve success, as an outsider, you will get hate mail. This is something that my mother and father learned and taught me. And unfortunately, I will have to pass on this lesson, too. I'm not the only person who feels this way. In the November 8 edition of Rolling Stone, singer Alicia Keys talked about the contradictions she sees in the flag and in the jingoism that's followed the terrorist attacks. "All day I been seein' everybody rockin' flags in they hats and on the street, and I'm torn," she said. "I look at that flag, and I'm not able to completely go there for some reason. I see lies in that flag. I can't suddenly be all patriotic. But this is about human life beyond any country or flag. That's why it makes me feel so strange … there's so many layers involved." Recently, I saw the play Deconstructing Uncle Tom, written by black playwright Tawyna Pettiford-Wates. In her play, Pettiford-Wates deals with themes of racism and patriotism in America. Actors wear blackface and dance around in garish red, white, and blue clothes. In one scene, Topsy tells Harriet Beecher Stowe that she can't understand "the suffering of which I have become accustomed to." Translation: Being black in this country means having to think about what you are, every minute of every day, for the rest of your life. The most important message in the play was that racism is not going to go away if we pretend that it's not there. Racism still exists in this country, and a sudden rush of nationalism hasn't changed that. Says Pettiford-Wates: "I don't think that it [racism] is something that will ever be over in terms of finality. If there is going to be any harmony achieved it must be recognized by whites that something must be returned and restored that has been taken. Change will not occur unless there is recognition and appreciation instead of 'tolerance.'"
React >
The persistance of racism |