Let's Talk About Race: Bucky Barnes

When I had coffee with a friend from high school, we had a nice chat that was inspired by a couple articles.

At The Root, Michael Harriot wrote Where'd All These Woke White People Come From?, which is a truly great article. Here is one tremendous quote (of many):

It’s not that white people don’t care about their friends. It’s that they don’t think about racism. White people are immune to white supremacy so they don’t even consider that some of us are racism-intolerant.

Another interesting article is on Medium by Ramesh A Nagarajah: Reflections from a Token Black Friend. 

Like many of my friends from high school, these two articles caused my friend some pain to think that the experiences and perceptions of her black friends were so different from her experiences and perceptions. As we spoke, a deep literary idea struck my mind.

For decades, one of the most famous deaths in the Marvel universe was that of Captain America's sidekick James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes. Ed Brubaker kinda un-killed him in 2005, and when he did this, Brubaker made other important changes to Bucky's backstory. The Star's Kaleon Rahan describes the core of the change in Captain America's sidekick Bucky is one big and bad, bad boy:

"... Brubaker injected some substance into [Bucky]’s history by revealing that his sidekick status was actually a cover-up, and that the US military had bigger plans for him, including black ops stuff that Cap wouldn't have the stomach for."

This is called a retcon. Brubaker changed Bucky's history, and in doing so he changed how we see two characters we always thought we knew. We always thought that Captain America was the squeaky clean defender of liberty who was the critical piece that helped the allies win WWII and Bucky was his kid sidekick. Now, we saw that Cap was too squeaky clean, and Bucky was there to defend him and to do the dirty work that needed to be done. 

This is what many people are dealing with now. All of a sudden, they are seeing perspectives they hadn't seen before, and it's not only changing how they see old friends and past events, but also how they see themselves and current social/political dynamics. Some of my friends are apologizing for what they did or didn't say or do decades ago. One moving example is a friend who said:

"I know a great deal better today and I am working to do better daily."

I hope the message quoted above is true for all of us. It's certainly true for me. Dynamics that helped continue and even deepen hurtful attitudes are everyone's burden. They belong to the white kids who make jokes about race as well as to the black kids who laugh along or brush them off. I'm not saying that the black kids are to blame for racism, but all the things we said and how we reacted to them were the result of entrenched, toxic attitudes. As we look back, we're all seeing things that make us uncomfortable about our own actions and inactions. We need to allow that discomfort to drive us forward.

For years now, I have said that one of the few upsides to being a black man in America is being able to make white folks feel uncomfortable about race. Being comfortable with this role is not something I was strong or self-aware enough to embrace when I was younger, and I cringe when I think of some of my inaction. But now I try to lean in to being an agent of understanding. This is still an area of growth, but I'm working on it.

This national discussion about race is like a huge retcon that is changing how we see our past experiences, relationships, and behaviors. Retcons can be disconcerting, but we can all benefit from digging into them and really grappling with the new understandings they bring. The new Bucky can be a tough character to deal with, but he is a MUCH more interesting and complex character than the old sidekick character. 

Pandemic Silver Linings

The pandemic has been horrible in so many ways. Lives have been lost. Jobs and businesses have been lost. Education gaps have widened. Friends and loved ones have been isolated from one another. 

But allow me to call out a few silver linings:

Seeing Heroes: Nurses. Grocery store workers. Truck drivers. Meat packing plant workers. Farmers. Restaurant staff. The list goes on and on. The rank and file is full of under-appreciated heroes who have stepped up during this crisis. These are the heroes who are pulling us through this -- not our venerated athletes or CEOs.

Appreciating Missing Critical People: Many parents now have much better understanding of what every teacher deals with every day. What about people who clean houses and cut hair and so many other tasks that we value, but were put on hold? During the lockdown, we have been living the old adage that you don't properly value what you have until it is taken away from you.

BLM: George Floyd wasn't the first. Black and brown people have been victims of police brutality before, so why did these protests really gain traction? I think we can thank the pandemic. 

1. Logistics: Traffic is light and parking is easy. 
2. Free Time: Movie theaters and gyms and most other athletic/entertainment venues are closed. Plus, unemployment is around 20%.
3. No Distractions: There are no sports or new movies or other distractions to replace it in the news cycle. The BLM movement is flourishing in the open space created by the pandemic.

Inspiring Change: The wheels of progress in education grind incredibly slowly. The pandemic has the potential to add a big jolt of innovation as schools and educators try to figure out how to make virtual and blended learning work. I imagine that necessity is driving innovation in other areas as well. 

Seeing Flaws in Our Systems: People who depend on their low-paying jobs for their healthcare are either showing up when sick (e.g., Smithfield plant) or losing health coverage. Many CEOs and Presidents and other leaders have made it explicitly clear that they care more about money than they do about the health of the people who toil to enrich them. The pandemic is a stressor that helps us see the flaws in our systems. It doesn't point the way to fixing them, but understanding that something is broken is the first step.

None of these silver linings provide succor to those who have lost loved ones or businesses or jobs or security or comfort. As a society, I am hopeful that we will make changes to our mindsets, relationships, and systems so the legacy of the pandemic will include some good outcomes.

Metablog: Why?

So, as the blog has clearly awakened after a long hiatus, two reasonable questions could come to mind:

Question 1: Why now?

There is a lot going on in the world, and I've been meaning to capture my ideas. Plus, I've always kept my political ideas out of my social media because I've been risk averse and worried that a google-able trail might concern a future employer. Now that I'm a crotchety old man, I figure that if these ideas bother you, then I don't want to work for you. 

Question 2: Why blog? Why not just post stuff on Facebook?

I'm not a great writer, so I need to be able to review and edit and tweak. I also need screen real estate, and to be able to save drafts. Once I have written up something that is somewhat coherent, I like being able to find my old posts so I can farm them for links and quotes. Facebook is a crappy content repository.

This probably won't last long, but it'll be fun (for me) while it does.

Let's Talk About Race: Racial Covenants and Redlining

There is a ton of history that has been either neglected or misconstrued for decades, and these deficiencies shape how we look at the world. Here is one example.

If you are a fan of letting a free market solve problems and believe that people can and should pull themselves up by their bootstraps, I want you to consider that the "free" markets have actually been rigged for years. Two striking examples of this are racial covenants and redlining. 

Racial Covenants

Racial covenants were tools used by real estate developers to prevent people of color from buying or occupying property. Often just a few lines of text, these covenants were inserted into warranty deeds across the country. -- Mapping Prejudice

Redlining

Redlining was the practice of outlining areas with sizable Black populations in red ink on maps as a warning to mortgage lenders, effectively isolating Black people in areas that would suffer lower levels of investment than their white counterparts. -- Brookings Institution

Why are these things big deals? On one side, they made it much easier for white families to acquire real estate, which is a key aspect of wealth building. On the other side, it made it virtually impossible for black families to pull themselves out of their tough financial situations. These systems created cycles of low property values that led to under-performing schools and businesses, which fed the low-wealth cycle. 

Here are some resources that can help you dig into this poorly known history. 

Articles:

• NPR: A 'Forgotten History' Of How The U.S. Government Segregated America
• Washington Post: To fix our cities, we must reckon with our racist urban past
• Washington Post: Redlining was banned 50 years ago. It’s still hurting minorities today
• City Lab: How the Fair Housing Act Failed Black Homeowners
• The Guardian (via Pocket) has Housing Market Racism Persists Despite ‘Fair Housing’ Laws

Maps/Interactives allow you to dig into the background and maps for your home town.

• Mapping Inequality
• Mapping Prejudice

Teachers might appreciate these education resources:

• Zinn Education Project: How Red Lines Built White Wealth: A Lesson on Housing Segregation in the 20th Century
• Segregated By Design

After barring the doors of prosperity to almost all blacks for close to a century after emancipation, the system can now use economic status (without regard to color) to ensure the continuation of the system's desired effect (e.g., through school district boundaries and funding).

Toxicity vs. The Echo Chamber

First of all, I'd like to apologize to people I have judged. 

I've seen friends say that they are purging their fb feeds of people they no longer want to see. I have respected their choices, but a small part of me often thought "but I value diversity in my feed, and don't want an echo chamber." I have some Trump supporters in my feed, and I have made a conscious effort to keep that diversity. Still, I shouldn't have judged.

Most of the time, it's just fine. We can exchange barbs:

• Benghazi vs. Ukraine
• "Deplorables" vs. "Grab them by the p***y"
• Bloated government vs. The widening wealth gap
• The 2nd amendment is sacred (except the well-regulated militia clause) vs. Gun deaths

The list goes on and on, and it's fine. I value the discourse.

Then one acquaintance posted something that struck me as quite racist ... and another acquaintance posted something even worse. That's when I found that I have a line. We can have reasonable discourse about political, economic, and even some social issues. But I will not allow blatant racism, homophobia, sexism, or other hateful speech in my feed. It's just too toxic.

I defend your right to say stupid and offensive things, but I want no part of them in my fb feed. So ... if you say something that I think is marginal, I might (given your past posts) only pause seeing your stuff for 30 days or I might totally unsubscribe from your crap. 

At one point, I had thought to write a full blog entry ripping apart the idiocy and racism of one post and then a separate entry with a title like "Farewell, J---" (and actually name the person). I've decided against both. I'm just unsubscribing from a few people and posting this heads up to others. I value diversity, but I have no interest in toxicity. 

Let's Talk About Race: Confederate Monuments

So, as states, cities, and even the federal government renew battles around confederate monuments and place names, it's worth revisiting their history.

Many of the statues at the center of Richmond, VA were erected during reconstruction. A friend of mine who lives in Richmond says this about the massive statues at his city's center:

"... These are "maybe we can still get a do-over" statues. Lee's was commissioned in 1875, went up in 1890, all the others followed shortly thereafter."

But many other confederate statues were built much later. Vox's W. Fitzhugh Brundage brings us I've studied the history of Confederate memorials. Here's what to do about them.

Please read the whole thing, but here are a couple subheadings from the article:

• Most monuments went up not immediately after the war, but as Southerners put Jim Crow in place — and Northerners gave up on racial justice
• Some contemporaries linked the monuments to the defense of white supremacy in shockingly explicit terms

Essentially, most confederate monuments were never about reminding ourselves of our history, but were all about white supremacy.

In The Atlantic, Susan Neiman wrote There Are No Nostalgic Nazi Memorials

Americans could learn from how drastically German society has moved away from the nadir of its history.

"... Monuments are neither just about heritage or just about hate. They are values made visible. That’s why we build memorials to some parts of history and ignore others. They embody the ideas we choose to lift up, in the hopes of reminding ourselves and our children that those ideas have been embodied by brave men and women."

Despite the fact that there are no public statues of Hitler or Eichmann or Himler or their compatriots, nobody will forget who they were. Statuary isn't about remembering history. It's about veneration and continuing to win a lost war. White supremacy, slavery, and secession are not values I think we should lift up. 

Every confederate statue, monument, and place name reminds every black person of the evil that was inflicted on their ancestors, and the injustices they endure every day. They also keep alive the confederate/white supremacist spirit. Defenders will tell you that the confederate spirit is about independence and chivalry and mint juleps on the porch. Really, it's about white supremacy. Every confederate statue and icon represents and empowers Patrick Wood Crusius and Dylann Roof and their ilk infinitely more than Scarlett O'Hara.

I like this idea from The Atlantic: A Solution to the Confederate-Monument Problem: Destroying the statues won’t erase the past. Why not let them deteriorate in a public space instead? So, each state would put its statues in a remote location on public land. I recognize that confederate fetishists will maintain them, but I'm OK with that as long as the statues are in the middle of nowhere, and it's illegal to steal them or build anything around them.

On a related note, James Risen at The Intercept has Why is the Army Still Honoring Confederate Generals? Yes, that's a year old, but it's still completely relevant.

"... The base names were products of the same reassertion of Southern white supremacy that prompted the erection of many Confederate statues and monuments."

I hope the politicians can find the strength to purge our public spaces of these tributes that glorify traitors and embolden white supremacists. 

Returning to K-12 Schools in the Fall

Over on my professional/education blog Driven to Learn, I just posted some thoughts about how K-12 schools should plan to reopen.

Honestly, it isn't particularly deep or insightful (I'm really selling it well!), but anyone who is interested in K-12 schools should take a look to see the various facets I have called out. Each of us has our own perspective, but K-12 schools are very complicated beasts. 

Please leave comments about what I got wrong or missed.

Let's Talk About Race: I'm Fine, but I Worry

A friend of mine (who I won't embarrass by naming) sent me the following message:

"Just checking in on you during all of this craziness. I know my black family is not okay and I just wanted to reach out and say I love you. I can't imagine how emotionally exhausted you are, so no need to respond. Just wanted to send my love and support."

I always knew she was great, but with that message, she took greatness to another level. Wow. Other friends have reached out as well, and each one really touches me. Here is a (somewhat extended) response. It's a little longer than the message I initially replied with, but it's still totally inadequate.

I'm lucky that I have a ton of work to keep me busy, my kids are right here in my house, and I live in a community that is diverse and open and just generally amazing. This is a time when Reston really shines as a beacon of what communities should be.

I am totally fine, but I worry. 

I worry for my nieces and nephew. They are smart, successful 20- and 30-something young adults who were lucky to be born into educated, financially stable families, but they will still face injustices because of the color of their skin and who they love.

I worry about when my kids leave the protection of our home. In August, Boy Kid will head down I-81, past a massive confederate flag that flies about 30 minutes from campus, and live in an apartment that is far from us geographically and socially. His sophomore year at college will be fine, but I still worry.

I worry for all the young black and brown people who are constantly at risk and in fear. George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and Breonna Taylor weren't the first, and they won't be the last.

I worry about all the black and brown people who have poor healthcare, poor schools, and limited economic mobility because of a system that was actively rigged against their parents and grandparents, and is now more passively (though no less effectively) rigged against them.

Though I could get lost in the worry, I choose to focus on using this opportunity to help people understand, and to prod them to rise up in November. Protests are important, but voting is even more important.

Higher Ed Reopening Decisions

A lot is going on right now, so I'll spew forth some ideas on various topics in the coming weeks. I've chosen this topic partly because it is relatively easy for me to be dispassionate about it. I am intellectually interested and only somewhat impacted. There are more important things going on in the US, but this is where I'm starting.

As colleges and universities around the country weigh how they will reopen this Fall, various voices are being heard. Here are just two:

• Brown University's Christina Paxson in the New York Times: College Campuses Must Reopen in the Fall. Here’s How We Do It.
• USC-Beaufort's Deborah J. Cohan in Psychology Today: Pandemic U: What's the price of opening campuses in the fall?

What are some of the factors that schools are weighing (whether they admit them or not)?

Faculty and staff: Students are generally young and have few preexisting conditions. On the other hand, faculty and staff are older, and many have family members with significant risks. Bringing students back puts the faculty, staff, business owners, and all their families at risk. Honestly, this seems like an OSHA issue to me.

Revenue: When I originally looked at the university bill I paid in January, I just focused on the bottom line: How much am I writing a check for? Now, I look at every line and wonder: Will there be an athletic fee if the gym is closed? What about the meal plan? If everything were virtual, the bottom line would be VERY different. For me, all of those are distinct costs, but for the university, they are all important revenue streams.

The higher education value proposition: I'm not going to wade too far into the "is college worth it" debate, but I found this article by Susan Svrluga at the Washington Post particularly interesting: Is college worth it? A Georgetown study measures return on investment — with some surprising results. One thing this points out is that not all schools (even within a particular university) are equal financially. Most vocational schools such as law and business and engineering will survive this regardless. Those departments that can go virtual well probably should. But what about schools of liberal arts? What about those philosophy and religious studies and sociology departments? They are in a tougher spot. Faculty in these areas care about their health, but they also like having jobs. Honestly, this probably requires its own blog posts, but what if I just go with word association: community colleges, gap year, University of Phoenix, the humanities make us human.

Students without privilege: Many students are barely able to afford college. They scrape by thanks to on-campus jobs and scholarships and loans. This upheaval will make the college dream unattainable for many of these students. Without a job in the dining hall or at the athletic center, some students can't afford to live on campus. On the other hand, some students have home lives that aren't compatible with distance learning. Internet access, child care, loud siblings, space, and a plethora of other issues make virtual learning virtually impossible for many students. It's a lose-lose proposition for them.

College towns: There is no Blacksburg without Virginia Tech. What about Ann Arbor without the Univeristy of Michigan? Oberlin, OH? College Station, TX? State College, PA? You get the idea. Hechinger Report has Little-noticed victims of the higher education shutdowns: college towns

With students dispersed by the pandemic, towns that depend on them are struggling.

Students with privilege: First of all, I have put students last because they (as a population) are not particularly at risk, and they are resilient. If they all had to live at home and do this virtually, most of them would figure out how to do it well. That said, I'm sure my son is not alone in wanting very desperately to get back to campus (I'm trying not to be hurt). 

Let's be honest and admit that faculty and schools come at this from radically different perspectives. Faculty care about the health of their families, while schools are confronting an existential crisis. Many schools probably worry that going virtual will crush their bottom line, degrade the educational experience, and open themselves up to competition from challengers they never had to worry about before. 

So... what should schools do? 

1. No school or jurisdiction should open without a solid test-trace-isolate strategy. This May 15 article by Alex Tabarrok and Puja Ahluwalia Ohlhaver at The Washington Post: We could stop the pandemic by July 4 if the government took these steps lays out solid strategies.
2. Blended Learning: The importance of this is two-fold: Blending can help reduce class sizes (which improves safety), and can help prepare for going to more virtual strategies. 
3. Flexibility: How will you deal with a surge in cases on campus? How will you re-imagine your traditional gatherings? 

Should be interesting to see how this plays out.