Many of you may be seeing the same trend as me.

[RandomThoughts]

As the dialog of race increases there is also something else in the mix.

There is a ratcheting up of racial tension. It is as if the whispers are starting to echo through other venues.

I have a hunch this is not an accident. Progress made can be derailed by the stoking of baser instincts, fear of that which is different, or finding scape goats from ingrained illogical fears.

After thinking about it, this is the best I can think to do, and the best I can hope to see. Without trying to be pompous or arrogant, but with the choice of how to fight.

What I hope, is that all those of strong character and that believe in justice will continue to speak, yet will do so with the integrity and courage of so many people of the past, without anger, and not letting others push the buttons that can flame unproductive hate.

For dialog to exist it must be between the thinking minds, high emotion, especially based on fear or hate can remove the possibility of conversation. Passion for a cause can be a deep belief in what is right, a courage and integrity to pursue it, and the strength to withstand temptations to fight on lesser ground.

If they try to make me mad, I will smile, and not waver, I will have the courage to respond with all the kindness I can muster, I will try and discuss, and my first questions will always be.

Why are you angry?
How is it helping?


P.S. It feels arrogant to put this in a thread, but I been thinking on some of the people who in the past have had so many more challenges then me, and handled them so much better then I do, I aspire to learn from there examples.

[liberalmuse]

1. My story...

Back in the late 1980's, I took a bus trip from Las Cruces, NM to Pensacola, FL. By the time we hit New Orleans, I looked at my fellow bus passengers and experienced an odd sense of panic and felt a bit freaked out, to my horror. Why? Because I had never, ever been amongst so many black people in my life, and it felt really weird. I never considered myself racist. I grew up in New Mexico amongst a very heavy Hispanic and Native American population. I did not understand my feelings because I had not felt anything but common humanity with persons of color. No one really talks about this shit. I was taught it was wrong to be racist, and it was left at that. Hell, common sense tells you racism is stupid, but if you don't actually discuss the fact that racism exists and that America has a really horrible history of racism, you don't really realize it until it hits you. I think Holder is right. Americans are stupid when it comes to talking about race. It is basic instinct for humans and animals alike to feel odd amongst beings not like ourselves. I really wish America could be open about racial and cultural differences. Granted, we've come along way, but we still have a long way to go.

My best friend in grade school was black, btw. I would go to her house before school and hang with her family. She loved the Jackson 5, I loved Donny Osmond. I remember watching with fascination as her brothers primped in front of the mirror and groomed their 'fros with Afro picks. Years later, I finally got one for myself.

[RandomThoughts]

3. Interesting story thanks

On the subject of the AG the more I think about it the more I agree with both the content and approach of his comment. It was bold for sure, and did create ripples.

It was the hardball interview, and others, and things like that cartoon that made me think on the thread post. There is a temptation, for me at least, to get into the verbal brawl instead of focusing on what I can do, how I can respond, that matches what I want to be.

The places I hang out at are blessed with a diversity of race, and from that I understand your point, either from me, or sometimes from others, there is often a hesitancy to talk to other groups. But by, as you did, recognizing personal thoughts, and discarding there ridiculousness, I have more people to share a beer with, play pool with, and have good conversations with.

The issue exist from both sides, and tries to create limitations, but I think they can be overcome.

[ayeshahaqqiqa]

4. I think that what you were feeling on that bus

was more than unease caused by latent racism. I think you were feeling the tensions that are always there, under the surface--these tensions are caused by our national history more than how an individual may have acted in their past. There is resentment and anger on the one hand and guilt and fear on the other. These emotions, so deeply ingrained within us, make it impossible to be color blind when many of us see another person. Even though I supported the Civil Rights movement and championed Black History, I can't run from the fact that, way back in my past, I had ancestors who had slaves. I don't pretend to understand the mindset that allowed slavery, but I feel guilt and shame for it happening. And even though my great great grandfathers fought on the side of Union during the Civil War, even though my mother was a member of the Urban League, there is always a bit of fear--fear that I will be blamed for what happened--I will be the one to pay for the sins of my forefathers.

When I taught in Texas, I met up with the anger and resentment full force, and it brought home to me how the hurts and humiliations of generations has been passed down to the present day. Yet we have to be able to get around this, to overcome this. One way, I think, is to show an appreciation and respect to those who spent time building bridges, or those who had an epiphany and realized that we are all one people. My brother, Malcolm Shabaz, was one such person. He went on Hajj Malcolm X, and returned understanding unity and that we can, indeed, rise above our distinctions and differences.

[ayeshahaqqiqa]

2. My stories

I grew up in a college town in the Midwest. There was de facto segregation, with few integrated neighborhoods. My paternal grandmother called black people stereotypical names (not the N word though), while my maternal grandmother, who owned an apartment house, preferred renting to Kenyans and other African students because they were neater than American students. I went to kindergarten in 1956 in a mostly black school, and my best friend was a black girl who shared my first name. Needless to say, I had mixed messages about race growing up--I think it is difficult for someone my age not to be aware of a difference in skin color, no matter what they feel about Africans or African-Americans.

I was a teacher for a time in an elementary school in a large Southern city. Again, de facto segregation was in effect--the school was 90% black. What I found strange was the prejudice against white teachers that our black principal had. It made me better understand how black people have long felt in this country, and my appreciation for the leaders in the Civil Rights movement grew.


I was visiting Sufi friends in the Twin Cities, and they invited me to a Somali clan zkr. We were honored to be guests amongst our brothers and sisters and had a joyous time. There was no feeling of separation, perhaps because of our shared faith. It is so interesting that, when hearts are one, you notice the differences but they do not matter.