The Unbearable Invisibility of White Masculinity: Innocence In the Age of White Male Mass Shootings

The Unbearable Invisibility of White Masculinity: Innocence In the Age of White Male Mass Shootings

I have been profiled my entire life as innocent. When disruptive in class, I was told that I was eccentric, that I needed to work on my focus. Growing up, I looked for fights and conflicts yet I never fit the profile of a juvenile delinquent. The chip on my shoulder never signified a thug; I was just a kid with a bad temper who needed to mature and grow out of it.

When I was pulled over in Emeryville, CA for speeding for several miles and asked multiple times by the police officer if there was a reason for my speeding, I told him the truth. “Officer, my ice cream is melting.”

No stop and frisk. No pretext stop. No humiliating search. No fear of how to hold my hands. No ticket. I, like Adam Lanza and James Holmes, the two most notorious mass shooters of the past year, am white male privilege personified. We are humanized and given voice and innocence over and over again.

***

The most recent shooting in Newtown highlights whiteness and the ways it has been rendered invisible after every mass shooting. Described as a “nerd,” who “still wears a pocket protector,” Adam Lanza has been reimagined as a character straight out of The Revenge of the Nerds series and not a cold-blood killer. He carried a brief case, not a gun; he read The Catcher in the Rye and Of Mice and Men, not Guns and Ammo; he wore button down polos, not fatigues. His life was not extraordinary but was that of an average kid. From the reading list to the sartorial choices we have been sold a Normal Rockwell painting. The Associated Press painted a picture of Adam that imaged him as a character ripped out of a Brady Bunch script: “He was an honors student who lived in a prosperous neighborhood with his mother, a well-liked woman who enjoyed hosting dice games and decorating the house for the holidays.”

While identified as “reclusive,” and “shy,” as “quiet and reserved,” as “weird” and a “loner” outcast, Lanza has been consistently described as an average kid who had problems and difficulties. At worst, he was odd and painfully shy. “He didn’t have any friends, but he was a nice kid if you got to know him,” said Kyle Kromberg. “He didn’t fit in with the other kids. He was very, very shy.” Yet, the constant quest to figure out what caused him to snap, to speculate about the effects of his parents’ divorce or medications, all refashions Lanza as a good kid, a victim of sorts. He just snapped so there must have been a reason. Yes, he was strange, but do good (white, suburban, upper-middle class) kids shoot up an elementary school? Thus, reports the New York Post: “Bloodthirsty child killer Adam Lanza might have snapped, and carried out his unspeakable atrocities after learning that his mom wanted him thrown in the loony bin, according to published reports today.”

Is James Holmes a Nerd?

Here’s something that almost all the mass killers of the last fifteen years or so have in common: they’ve been called “nerds.”… Read…

The narrative following Adam Lanza and Newtown might as well recycled the media coverage surrounding James Holmes and the Aurora, Colorado shooting. Described as “smart” and quiet, as “nice,” and “easy-going,” the narrative sought to not only humanize James Holmes, but also imagine him as good at his core. It worked to tell a story of a normal kid, whose life turned toward evil for some yet-to-be-explained reason.

Sympathetic and identifiable, Holmes was depicted as Beaver Cleaver for most of his life. Anthony Mai, a longtime family friend, told the Los Angeles Times: “I saw him as a normal guy, an everyday guy, doing everyday things.” Like many others in the community, he is “very shy, well-mannered young man who was heavily involved in their local Presbyterian church.” The AP similarly depicted Holmes as a cross between Norman Rockwell, Jason, and Opie. Mind you the extent of its evidence comes from someone who had a beer with him at a local bar. “We just talked about football. He had a backpack and geeky glasses and seemed like a real intelligent guy and I figured he was one of the college students.” Can you imagine having your identity reduced to a single meeting at a bar? Sure, he was quirky, and a bit of a “loner” but he was a “reserved” and “respectful” “kid.”

Because these are told as stories of individuals with specific reasons for killing others, there is no reason to talk about race, class, or gender; there is no reason to talk about society, nor is there any reason to think that Aurora, Newtown, or Columbine are becoming Chicago or Detroit.

Continue reading at The Unbearable Invisibility of White Masculinity: Innocence In the Age of White Male Mass Shootings.

Preventing the Rise of Pothead U. – The Conversation – The Chronicle of Higher Education

Preventing the Rise of Pothead U.

January 2, 2013, 3:29 pm

By David J. Leonard

 

With the election season thankfully in our rear-view mirror, we can take stock of what the marijuana legalization initiatives (in both Washington and Colorado) mean. It should come as no surprise that college students have been rallying to end the prohibition of marijuana. I, for one, have often seen students pushing their decriminalization agenda on campus. What always struck me as I walked past these primarily white, middle-class crusaders is that marijuana is already effectively decriminalized on college campuses, as well as in suburbs and middle-class communities.

Decriminalization is a daily reality and has always been the applied law of the land in these environments. Sure, colleges and universities may claim to comply with federal drug laws, which, theoretically, should prevent the rise of Pothead U. Still, I can’t imagine the DEA swooping down anytime soon. A student conduct hearing and threat of drug education is not criminal enforcement.

Take a look at the numbers. Studies typically show that close to 50 percent of college students have used marijuana during the course of their young lives. According to a 2007 study, the number of students using marijuana daily more than doubled between 1993 and 2005. Furthermore, research has consistently shown that white students (and Latino students) use illegal drugs more frequently than African-American or Asian college students. Those trends also reflect drug-use patterns among young people not enrolled in college. It is not surprising that most of agitation for legalization of marijuana has been overwhelmingly white.

Of course, even the federal decriminalization of marijuana won’t eradicate all of the criminal misconduct among today’s college students. In recent years, drug use has also worsened with the proliferation of “performance-enhancing drugs” like Adderall. During the early part of the 21st century, sales increased by 3,100 percent; in recent surveys, anywhere from 5 percent to 35 percent of students admitted to popping these “study drugs.” Despite the fact that it violates federal drug laws, students regularly secure Adderall with little fear of punishment.

Continue reading at Preventing the Rise of Pothead U. – The Conversation – The Chronicle of Higher Education.

The Olympics and the Role of Race in Athletic Choices | Urban Cusp

The Olympics and the Role of Race in Athletic Choices

By David J. Leonard

UC Columnist

 

In a column on Huffington Post, Kelli Goff dared to ask the unthinkable: “Why Are Some Olympic Sports Whiter Than Others?” Noting the lack of diversity in many Olympics sports, Goff attempts to answer why Gabby Douglas, Lia Neal and Keith Smart (fencing) are anomalies in the white world of sports. While noting class, environment, differential opportunities, and countless other factors, Goff stays clear of racism:

Before the eye rolling begins, this is not a column about rampant racism in sports. But it is an attempt to understand why some sports end up predominated by one racial group versus others, and the long-term social and cultural implications of such segregation on the field, court, or gymnastics mat.

Goff highlights some important issues, although the avoidance of directly exploring race, racism, and segregation leaves an incomplete answer. In 2000, Harry Edwards reflected on how race and racism impacted sporting choices:

In ninety-five percent of American sports, the white athlete is there in numbers and dominant. The white athlete is there in swimming. The white athlete is there in diving. The white athlete is there in water polo. The white athlete is there in golf. The white athlete is there in tennis. The white athlete is there in badminton. The white athlete is there in auto racing. The white athlete is there in horse racing. The white athlete is there in soccer, walking, gymnastics, and all the winter sports in dominant numbers. What happened to the white athlete? The white athlete is there, except in those three, four, or five sports where blacks have had access.

Embodying class inequalities, a history of discrimination, and the realities of residential segregation, many Olympic sports are dominated by whites because the spaces, the neighborhoods, the schools and the very institutions that produce those recreational and elite athletes are racially segregated. Whether swimming, diving or gymnastics, the pipeline to the Olympics is one where youth of color find difficult entry, if not outright exclusion. We need to look further than American schools.

Surrounded by immensely segregated schools, Culver City School is likely one of the most diverse schools in Los Angeles. Although possessing a student population that is 37% Latino; 25% black; 22% white and 15% Asian, its diversity of school doesn’t translate to endless sporting opportunities. Not surprisingly it lags behind schools with significant white student demographics in terms of sporting opportunities yet exceeds those opportunities available at schools that are overwhelmingly black and Latino. It offers the following: Baseball, Boys Basketball, Football, Lacrosse, Soccer, Track & Field, Boys Volleyball, Water Polo, Boys Wrestling, Girls Basketball, Girls Lacrosse, Girls Soccer, Softball, Girls Track & Field, Girls Volleyball, and Water Polo.

Just a few miles away from Culver City lies Beverly Hills High school, a school that is 70% white, 18% Asian, 6.5% black and 5% Latino. As expected, the school with its famous zip code – 91022 (close enough), offers endless academic opportunities and immaculate facilities (including a retractable basketball court that opens up to a swimming pool). It also provides students with access to countless sports.

Although Beverly Hills High occasionally competes against Dominguez High in a basketball tournament, there is no golf, wrestling, water polo or swimming rivalry between the cross-freeway (intra-segregation) rivals. The Compton School district (which has three high schools – Dominguez, Centennial and Compton) is the face of American public education: segregated, underfunded, and left behind. With high schools that are over 97% black and Latino, it should come as no surprise that athletic schedules begin and end with basketball, football, soccer, baseball, volleyball, and track and field.

Just south and west of Compton, in what might as well be another world, is Huntington Beach High School. A school that is 64% white, compared to 16% Latino, 10% AAPI, 7% Native American and 1% African American offers a range of sports, many of which are Olympic sports.

via The Olympics and the Role of Race in Athletic Choices | Urban Cusp.

White Privilege, Wealth and the U.S. Criminal Justice System | Urban Cusp

White Privilege, Wealth and the U.S. Criminal Justice System

By David J. Leonard

I can still see myself standing in my office. I was gathering my things as I prepared to go on leave with the birth of my son that following day. Although my excitement and anxiety provided a joyous distraction, my focus was elsewhere. My father was in New York, awaiting the verdict in his trial. We were all waiting for the verdict yet he was probably waiting for judgment about his future. Having lived under the stress and anxiety of my father facing jail time for many years (including two prior trials that had ended with hung juries) and having lived under the continual fear that our collective lives could forever change in an instant, I sat almost paralyzed by my trepidation. I couldn’t help but think about a recent conversation with my father, where he asked me to help out my Mom if he was hauled off to jail without being able to tie up loose ends. Deep in these thoughts and unable to focus on anything, my phone rang. He had been found guilty on all counts and was convinced that he had not only been “screwed” but that his life was over.

While an injustice did take place, his life was not over. We have made it though these circumstances because of family, love, and privilege. Yes, privilege. My experience with an injustice, with a prosecutor who was more focused on creating a factual scenario that fit his preconceived conclusions, with a criminal justice system more focused on wins than truth or justice, with a bureaucracy focused on justifying its bloated budgets and state power than fostering peace and safety, and individuals more concerned with personal interests than the families and communities that their actions impacted, taught me about the power of privilege.

My dad had the financial privilege to be able to hire a top-notch lawyer; he had a house that could be used to offset the costs of a trial. Unlike the vast majority of people swept up by an unforgiving criminal justice system, he was able to go to trial (multiple times as it turned out). While he was not ultimately successful in blunting the power of the government (more than 90% of prosecutions by the federal government result in convictions), his lawyer’s efforts to highlight the injustice that was being done, surely played a role in keeping him out of prison. While clearly an injustice, the real-life meaning of whiteness, of class privilege, is hard to deny when thinking about our entire experiences with the criminal justice system.

Yes, my family faced what we knew was an injustice. Yet, as a middle-class white family from Los Angeles, we learned that we were (to a degree) exempt from many of the injustices that befall those who must fight the system without the benefits and privileges of being white and middle class. My father was able to contest a matter three thousand miles from his home. How many individuals can carry on a fight over many years at that kind of distance including numerous cross-country flights, weeks of living in a hotel, the cost of transporting witnesses across country and related financial burdens? Anyone without the financial resources to fight would have no choice but to simply concede defeat at the outset.

My father was able to hire an attorney. Access to a private attorney as opposed to a public defender or assigned counsel is in many ways determinative of one’s fate. According to Paul Rubin and Joanna Shepherd, economic professors at Emory University, and Morris B. Hoffman, a trial judge, “the average sentence with serious cases was almost three years longer than the average for clients of private attorneys.” The mere fact that 90-95% of criminal cases never go to trial, whereas my father was able to standup before the world and announce his innocence, is evidence of both our privileges and the injustice of the criminal justice system.

Continue reading White Privilege, Wealth and the U.S. Criminal Justice System | Urban Cusp.

Dr. David J. Leonard: Whiteness Matters

Whiteness Matters

Between the racist comments, the constant use of the race denial card (this country’s most frequently used “race card”), and the absurd claims of White victimhood, our conversations about race need to change. The failed responses, at a rhetorical and a policy level in the aftermath of Katrina and post-Trayvon highlights a persistent failure to account for American racism. As Richard Wright reminded us decades ago, “There isn’t any Negro problem; there is only a white problem.” In other words, there isn’t a race card, but the injustices of persistent racism, one that not only erects obstacles but also provides unearned advantages for White America. Whiteness matters and it is time to account for American racism.

Sure, we got teary during The Blind Side and Antoine Fisher; we maybe even gave money to KONY2012 and after Hurricane Katrina; we maybe even donned a hoodie to protest the murder of Trayvon Martin. Sympathy and apologies are in great supply. As James Baldwin once said, “People can cry much easier than they can change.” I don’t even doubt there are individuals out there who are genuinely concerned about racism and injustice; I don’t doubt that there are many Whites that marched with Dr. King and whose “best friends” might be Black. None of this matters if African Americans continue to die at the hands of guns held by security guards and police officers all without justice

During the last few months, I have heard over and over again: “we are all Trayvon Martin.” Yet we are not Trayvon Martin – and we never could be. White America is never suspicious. Is it White America who is stopped and frisked in cities like New York? Can you imagine if Whites in Salt Lake City were stopped daily in search of guns, even though only .2% of those stops would result in finding a weapon? We can already hear the outrage!

Is it White America who must show their papers when stopped in places Arizona? Is it White America who endures “driving while black,” “shopping while black,” or “walking while black.” Driving or shopping while White is not an issue insomuch as Whites are able to engage in the practices without being seen as problem. White America can walk to the store without fear of being hunted down. White America can count on justice and a nation grieving at the loss of White life. We aren’t Trayvon Martin, we are George Zimmerman; we aren’t Rekia Boyd or Marisa Alexander: we are presumed innocent until proven innocent. We are seen as victims worthy of protection and mourning. The cover of People Magazine features three victims of Aurora and not the many victims of extrajudicial violence and the daily realities of guv violence.

I want you to close your eyes for a second, and imagine that your son or daughter, sister or brother, granddaughter or grandson, ventured to the corner store for some Skittles and tea but never returned? Can you imagine if Peter or Jan were gunned down right around the corner from your house and the police didn’t notify you right away? Can you imagine if little Cindy or Bobby sat in the morgue for days as you searched to find out what happened them? Can you even imagine the police letting the perpetrator go or the news media remaining silent? Can you even fathom learning about background and drug tests on your child? Can you imagine the news media demonizing your child, blaming your child for his own death?

Can you imagine the outcry if seven White youths had been gunned down by police and security guards in a matter of months? What about more than 110 in 6 months? Can you imagine the extensive political interest, the media stories that would saturate the airwaves? If the recent coverage of shooting in Aurora is any indication, there would be little else on the national media landscape. Can you imagine Fox News or any number of newspapers reporting about a school suspension for one of the victims or doctoring pictures in an attempt to make these victims less sympathetic? Can you imagine a person holding up a sign calling these victims “thugs” and “hoodlums.” Can you imagine pundits blaming White youth for wearing “thug wear” or citing THC in their system as explanation for why our sons and daughters are gunned down with unfathomable frequency. Just think about the media frenzy, the concern from politicians, and the national horror every time a school shooting happens in Suburbia or every time a White woman goes missing … can you imagine if women routinely went missing from your community and the news and police department simply couldn’t be bothered?

Continue reading @ Dr. David J. Leonard: Whiteness Matters.

NewBlackMan: Can We All…Get It Right?: Remembering the LA Uprising

Can We All…Get It Right?: Remembering the LA Uprising

by David J. Leonard | NewBlackMan

There are few days in life where you can say without a doubt, “I know what I was doing 20 years ago today.” This is the case today, on the 20th anniversary of the start of the Los Angeles Uprising.

Having dropped out of the University of Oregon after 2 quarters, I was living in Los Angeles working and taking two classes at UCLA. Like many middle-class white youth I presume, I paused when the verdict was delivered and noted the injustice that spurred my outrage before getting back to my life. I was angry, like many others, because a jury of THEIR peers concluded that 4 police officers did nothing wrong in beating Rodney King 56 times, but the anger lasted only for that second. That was the reaction from many in West Los Angeles. “That’s outrageous, can I get a cold beverage”; “what an injustice, is the mall open yet?”

I remember thinking little about the case after hearing the verdict,. I headed to work and then to my class at UCLA. Driving to my class, through the wealth of West Los Angeles, all was calm. Entering class, an introduction to sociology course that focused on inequality systemic racism and privileges, it was clear that the verdict changed little. Class was planned as usual. Yet, before long, with news reports of violence breaking out in South Central, Los Angeles, our professor announced the end of class out of concern for OUR safety. In a city immensely segregated, defined by systemic divisions that thwart interaction all while enacting violence on its residents of color, it is immensely telling that the Rodney King Verdicts/LA Uprisings became meaningful, if not visible, when people thought the riots were going to cross La Brea or other markers dividing the two LAs.

For the rest of that night and next day, I was paralyzed, watching television almost endlessly. In retrospect, for myself, and maybe others, the LA Uprising put a crack in the walls of segregation. Although living less than 15 minutes from South Central, Los Angeles, it might as well have been 10,000 miles away. That is the specter of segregation in Los Angeles. Even the media reporting then, and the ways that the verdicts and LA Uprising were being talked about demonstrated this fact as people continued to talk about what was happening “over there” concerned that it might “migrate here.” I was uncomfortable with the detached feeling paralyzing me so I decided to leave the state-protected bubble of West Los Angeles and I drove down to South Central on day 2 to donate some food, clothes, and stuffed animals to the First AME Church.

I was most certainly driven by my desire “to help,” as I imagined what that meant twenty years ago, which most certainly reflected my white privileged understanding of privilege. Yet, I was also angered by the clear segregation of Los Angeles, not only in terms of geography, economics, and daily reality, but sentimentality and emotion.

The lack of sadness and anger within West Los Angeles was telling because the LA Uprising was not happening in our world; it was somewhere else, happening to someone who didn’t look like “us.” The power of race and class in eliciting not only empathy and connection, but also sentimentality and humanity, was on full-display in the days after the King Verdict. When I told people that I was heading down to South Central, they looked at me like I was crazy, as if I was driving into a foreign land amid a war. To them, it was a foreign land, one that they neither visited nor thought about except in moments of fear (“will the rioters come to the West Side) or heading to Lakers’ games. Despite voiced concerns about my driving just a few miles down the 10 Freeway, it was rather “uneventful” except in how this moment transformed me.

The drive forced me to reflect on my own assumptions and stereotypes, to think about why neighborhoods so close to my own were places I had never been (and thought of as so far away); it forced me to think about the violence and destruction that predated April 29th and bare witness to communities that West Los Angeles had abandoned; and finally, it forced me to reflect on the power of community, to see beyond the televisual representation of South Central Los Angeles rioting, to see families collecting food, kids playing, and people coming together. It forced me to look inward, to think about whiteness and privilege, to reflect on my stereotypes and assumptions. Even my ability to get my car and drive to South Central Los Angeles is evidence of privilege given the levels of state violence experienced by black and Latino youth entering LA’s white enclaves in West Los Angeles. What should have been a moment of introspection, of racial reconciliation and systemic change, instead became a moment, one that too many of us retreated as we are driving back to the “comfort” of a gated community.

Continue reading @ NewBlackMan: Can We All…Get It Right?: Remembering the LA Uprising.

DEAR WHITE FOLKS: You Don’t Know How Easy You Have It – News & Views – EBONY

DEAR WHITE FOLKS:
You Don’t Know How Easy You Have It

by David J. Leonard

Dear White folks:

Between the racist comments, the constant use of the race denial card (this country’s most frequently used “race card”) and the absurd claims of White victimhood, you have really grated my last nerve.

Sure, we got teary during The Blind Side and Antoine Fisher; we maybe even gave money to KONY2012 and after Hurricane Katrina; we maybe even donned a hoodie to protest the murder of Trayvon Martin. I don’t even doubt there are individuals out there who are genuinely concerned about racism and injustice; I don’t doubt that there are many Whites that marched with Dr. King and whose “best friends” might be Black. None of this matters if African Americans continue to die at the hands of guns held by security guards and police officers all without justice

I have heard that “we are all Trayvon Martin” over the last few weeks, yet we are not Trayvon Martin – and we never could be. White America is never suspicious. White America can walk to the store without fear of being hunted down. White America can count on justice and a nation grieving at the loss of White life. We aren’t Trayvon Martin, we are George Zimmerman: presumed innocent until proven innocent.

I want you to close your eyes for a second, and imagine that your son or daughter, sister or brother, granddaughter or grandson, ventured to the corner store for some Skittles and tea but never returned? Can you imagine if Peter or Jan were gunned down right around the corner from your house and the police didn’t notify you right away? Can you imagine if little Sydney or Bobby sat in the morgue for days as you searched to find out what happened them? Can you even imagine the police letting the perpetrator go or the news media remaining silent? Can you even fathom learning about background and drug tests on your child? Can you imagine the news media demonizing your child, blaming your child for his own death?

Can you imagine the outcry if seven White youths had been gunned down by police and security guards in a matter of months? Can you imagine the extensive political interest, the media stories that would saturate the airwaves? Can you imagine Fox News or any number of newspapers reporting about a school suspension for one of the victims or doctoring pictures in an attempt to make these victims less sympathetic? Can you imagine a person holding up a sign calling these victims “thugs” and “hoodlums.”Just think about the media frenzy, the concern from politicians, and the national horror every time a school shooting happens in Suburbia or every time a White woman goes missing…can you imagine if women routinely went missing from your community and the news and police department simply couldn’t be bothered?

No, you can’t. And you don’t have to.

Yet, from Florida to Los Angeles, from Atlanta to Wisconsin, from Chicago to Ohio, Black families are burying the innocent and the future. Doesn’t that make you sad; doesn’t that make your angry? Our silence is telling. We can barely say their names much less acknowledge the epidemic in our midst: Stephon Watts. Trayvon Martin. Ramarley Graham. Wendell Allen. Dante Price. Bo Morrison. Rekia Boyd. Kendrec McDade.

All have lost their lives; and we don’t even say their names. All have died under similarly disturbing circumstances. All should have prompted national outrage and action; or at the least for us to say their names.

I don’t care if you cried during The Help and if the ‘feel good’ movie of the year featuring chicken-frying maids and affluent White women made you feel all post-racial tingly on the inside. Did you cry at the report of yet another lost Black life? If so, what have those tears done – have they led you to join a rally, to demand justice? I don’t care if you voted for President Obama; have you demanded dramatic changes to our criminal (in)justice system? It is time for us to check ourselves, to listen and demand a better America starting with ourselves. It is time to stop denying racism and defending White privilege, distracting and deflecting with “what ifs” and excuses. It is time to demand justice for the Trayvons and the Rekias, not because it could have been one of our sons and daughters–it couldn’t–but because it is simply the right thing to do.

Continue reading @ DEAR WHITE FOLKS: You Don’t Know How Easy You Have It – News & Views – EBONY.

White Riot: Kentucky Fans, Trayvon Protesters, and The White Privilege Conference

White Riot: Kentucky Fans, Trayvon Protesters, and

The White Privilege Conference

by Charles Modiano On April 4, 2012(cross posted from POPSspot)

What if Travon Martin Protesters Did This?

Oh, here we go again. This week brought us another sports fueled violent white riot after Kentucky won the NCAA Basketball Championship. The riot, which many had predicted would happen, came just 60 fires and two days after the first one where Kentucky fans burned cars to celebrate its win over Louisville.

The Final Four riots came just months after Penn State fans took to the streets,  crashed down lamposts and flipped over trucks after football coach Joe Paterno was fired for not using his power to prevent the rape of young children.

The Penn State Riots came a year after the Vancouver Canuck Riots which came a year after San Francisco Giants fans cheered their World Series win by looting, setting fires, and attacking cars — or as The San Francisco Chronicle put it — “joyful mayhem“.

And when the games are over, and real life problems come up such as the shooting of Trayvon Martin, the larger criminal justice system that his death symbolizes, and the rallies across the country demanding reform. Led by, but not limited to a divisive conservative media, many have wondered: “Is The Media Inciting Violence?” and “Is Spike Lee’s Tweet the Same kind of Violence That Killed Emmit Till? while “Sanford Frets About Prospects of Riots Over Trayvon Martin Killing“.

Ironically, while thousands of mostly white Kentucky fans were tearing up the Kentucky campus this weekend, more than 1400 mostly white people were gathered in Albuquerque, New Mexico for The 13th Annual White Privilege Conference. At WPC13, participants attended four days of workshops and supportive caucuses to better understand what white privilege is, what it is not, what’s inside the “invisible knapsack” of privileges, and using this knowledge to facilitate positive social change.

Saturday’s keynote address on “Intersectionality in the Age of Post-Racialism” was given  by law professor Dr. Kimberle Crenshaw. Besides being a pioneering scholar, Dr. Crenshaw  also happens to be a big sports fan rooted in childhood heroes named Jim Brown and Muhammad Ali. I had the privilege of sitting down with Dr. Crenshaw to get her thoughts on today’s sports landscape. In part of the interview which took place just a couple of hours before the first Kentucky riot, she had this to say in response to The Penn State Scandal and protest of Joe Paterno’s firing:

“Fundamentally, we see the difference between how outrage, hurt, and pain is framed sympathetically when it’s about white pain, white institutions, white patriarchs, white heroes, and how just the fear of that kind of acting out [by African-Americans] will create such reactions.

So nothing bad has happened around all of the protests around Trayvon Martin, but everybody is saying: ‘just so it’s non-violent’… ‘just so it doesn’t get out of control’… and ‘let’s not desecrate his memory’.

Well, nothing has happened.

So that very disparity represents precisely the disciplinary fear of Black people that led to Trayvon’s death in the first place.”

By calling into question the inner fears that produce greater concern for imagined Black violence over real actual white violence, Dr. Crenshaw questions the sort of mindset or “gutset” that continually produces so many variations of Trayvon Martin (see Ramarley Graham, Oscar Grant, Kenneth Chamberlain, Howard Morgan, etc.).

Her comments were in line with the goals of The White Privilege Conference which served as an introspective and productive ”gut-check” for white people (and others) to help eradicate harmful biases by first recognizing their existence .

Says WPC Founder and Program Director, Dr. Eddie Moore, Jr.:

“The White Privilege Conference is designed to critically examine, critically push, and critically challenge participants amidst a loving, family-oriented, and community environment.

In that context, it is important to look at white privilege in comprehensive ways so when you look at Trayvon, you don’t say “I AM TRAYVON MARTIN”, but instead you explore the various ways in which you could identify and say:

“I  AM GEORGE ZIMMERMAN”.

Dr. Moore’s statement signifies an honest recognition of everyday skin privilege, even if it means getting away with less than murder. This declaration also means identifying with George’s stereotyping of Trayvon, even if his gunshots are replaced with disapproving stares.  While identifying with Zimmerman may not be quite as comforting for white participants (including this author) as throwing on a hoodie in symbolic support of Trayvon, it’s definitely necessary if we are going to get real about about racism.

In this broader context, recognizing white privilege includes questioning ”the white right to riot” while the larger white community never has to pay a racial price. Those guys who set all those fires in Kentucky? “It wasn’t me — not my problem.” Being white means the privilege of never having to suffer from “group punishment“.

In her analysis of the OJ Simpson Trial,  Dr. Crenshaw explains that African-Americans received “group punishment” by whites in the aftermath of the case. Despite legitimate reasons for doubt (and , African-Americans were viewed, discussed, and punished as a group — both socially and politically — for the celebratory response to ”The Verdict”.

Conversely, the immediate response to Joe Paterno’s firing drew no group punishment or even group analysis of “white culture” or a “culture of white male privilege”, but instead focused on every  conceiveable “sub-culture” besides race. Even after months of reflection, a recent poll found that Pennsylvania voters favor changing the current stadium name to Joe Paterno Stadium. The poll wasn’t just college fratboys — but registered voters.  And while none of those “yes votes” were likely cast by the then-child victims of rape that Paterno had the power to protect, the life-long trauma of those victims might be worth a national discussion.

But honest national conversations by white people about white people as a group just don’t happen.

At least not in too many circles outside of The White Privilege Conference where I learned at least three things:

1) I have largely taken my hoodie-wearing for granted like I’m Bill Belichick.

2) ”Errupt Big Blue” means the right to riot twice in 48 hours without racial repercussion, and

3) “I AM NOT TRAYVON MARTIN”

RELATED: “We Are Penn State”: Is Hip Hop Culture To Blame?

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[OPINION] Trayvon, Sports and Me – News & Views – EBONY

Trayvon, Sports and Me

David J. Leonard

I grew up in segregated Los Angeles. While often celebrated for its diversity, L.A. is community. Divided by freeways, inequalities, and policing, the Los Angeles I remember was defined by its segregation. For middle-class white kids such as myself I was in constant ignorance about the persistence of inequality and my own White privilege. I never thought a second about leaving my house to buy a bag of Skittles; I never contemplated how others – teachers, employers, and even the police – might interpret my saggin’ pants or my hoodie; I did not even give a second thought when I showed up to play basketball at my local park with my hair in braids. The ignorance of privilege and the power of Whiteness defined my youth. Yet, the privileges of Whiteness gifted me each and every day. I was able to move throughout the city without fear from driving while White, and without fear of being suspicious, because in America “the assumption is that the natural state of Black men is armed and dangerous.”

It took leaving Los Angeles for the Pacific Northwest to truly understand the nature of American racism. In the 20 weeks that I attended the University of Oregon, notions of colorblindedness and equality shattered before my eyes. Walks to the store, to dinner, or to class with African American friends often found us followed by the police, stared at by others. It was a lesson in the ways that Blackness equals suspicion whereas Whiteness protected me from prejudgments. Racism wasn’t just the daily assault on my Black friends, but the unearned privileges I was granted each day.

Looking back, these experiences taught me not just about racial profiling and “Walking While Black”, but the many contradictions that exist in an integrated country that never came to terms with its racism. Several of my friends on campus at the time were student-athletes (another issue, of course: the disproportionate number of Black students in the athletics program versus the few who were present at the school otherwise); these young men and women regularly experienced praise and adoration while on the court. Celebrated as heroes, cheered as superstars, and anointed as celebrities, they were desired, wanted, and cherished… as commodities. Yet, while walking the streets, while eating at restaurants, while in class, and while attending various parties, the desirability was replaced by suspicion, contempt, and surveillance.

The murder of Trayvon Martin speaks to this country’s fear of Black people, particularly males. It also reflects the country’s contradictory concept of Blackness. The fact that Trayvon ventured out during the halftime of the NBA All-Star game (taking place in Orlando as well) only to lose his life at the hands of George Zimmerman highlights the valuing of Blackness inside the arena and the devaluing of Black life elsewhere. As fans cheered Kobe, CP3, and King James, Trayvon lied in a pool of blood. Having seen pictures of Trayvon in his football uniform and read about his love of sports, his murder taking place during this grand celebration of Black athleticism speaks volumes. Like DJ Henry and Robert Tolan, both of whom were shot (Henry died) by the police, Marcus Dixon, Mychel Bell, and Genarlow Wilson, all of whom despite athletic prowess endured the grips of a Jim Crow justice system, the status as athlete, star or otherwise, did not protect Trayvon Martin.

The murder of Trayvon Martin speaks to this country’s fear of Black people, particularly males.

Even as millions of fans announce their love for Kobe and LeBron, even as tens of millions voted for Barack Obama, even as a growing Black middle-class has made inroads throughout society, the likes of Trayvon Martin, Oscar Grant, Sean Bell, and countless others remind us about the dangers of living while Black in America even in 2012. Essex Hemphill, in his brilliant poem “American Hero” describes a world where Black men can simultaneously be celebrated for dunking a basketball during a globally televised game while just miles a way a young Black male is dying at the hands of American racism:

Squinting, I aim at the hole fifty feet away. I let the tension go. Shoot for the net. Choke it. I never hear the ball slap the backboard. I slam it through the net. The crowd goes wild for our win. I scored thirty-two points this game and they love me for it. Everyone hollering is a friend tonight. But there are towns, certain neighborhoods where I’d be hard pressed to hear them cheer if I move on the block.

via [OPINION] Trayvon, Sports and Me – News & Views – EBONY.

An Open Letter to ‘Dear White America’: On Ignorance and White Privilege | Urban Cusp

An Open Letter to ‘Dear White America’:

On Ignorance and White Privilege

David J. Leonard

UC Columnist

I have been meaning to write this letter for a while, but just didn’t know to say it. I know how hard conversations about race can be, and how invariably these conversation lead to claims about the “race card” or it being “just a joke.” But after watching yet another disheartening video of mockery and disrespect, I have to make it plain.

There is no acceptable reason to ever don blackface. It’s not a joke, it ain’t funny, and it’s not some creative license that adds to the value of your artistic endeavors. Blackface has a long tradition that is part and parcel with white supremacy. It is part of a history of humiliation and dehumanization, of denied citizenship, and those efforts to rationalize, excuse, and justify state violence. From lynchings to mass incarceration, white supremacy has utilized dehumanization as part of its moral and legal justification for violence. Spare me your reference to “White Chicks,” the Chappelle Show. Spare me your dismissive arguments about intent and not being racially motivated, Blackface is part of the violent history of white supremacy. If you don’t know, now you know, and if you still don’t know, go here or here.

While we are on the subject, there is no place for racist costumes that dehumanize and demean, that mock and ridicule, that stereotype and otherwise reenact a larger history of racism. We should have listened to students at Ohio University when they reminded us this past year with the We’re a Culture Not a Costume Campaign. Were you not listening or just don’t care? The costumes have to go along with those racist themed parties. You, I am talking about “ghetto parties, “cowboy and Indian parties,” “pimp and ho parties,” “South of Border parties or any number gatherings that see humor in mocking and demeaning others. If dressing up “as janitors, female gangsters and pregnant women” for Cinco de Mayo is in your plans, or a Martin Luther King celebration that includes a “gangsta party,” or Black History Month that’s celebrated with the most disturbing stereotypes, it’s time to reevaluate. Just say no!

Can you also please stop with the so-called impressions of Black people? The racist caricatures, the imitations of Flav Flav are not cool; just stop saying “kicking ballistics, boy.” The sideways hats or saggin pants are not evidence that you know black people. Lets wipe the slate clean of “colored people”, “jungle fever”, “super-awesome afro,” and “my best friends are black.”

As long as we are having this conversation, can we stop with the pathetic, clichéd, and misinformed arguments about how whites are now the discriminated minority? BET is not a sign of black privilege nor is black history. No, you can’t have, nor do you need to have, White Entertainment TV (you have Fox and its network of friends) or white history month (that is every month in case you missed it). Let’s get real, white privilege is real and has material consequences so stop denying and let’s start dealing with the inequality.

While we are talking about Black History Month, let’s get some things straight: (1) Black History Month is February. It isn’t funny; if you didn’t know, now you do know, so stop feigning ignorance. (2) Black history has nothing to do with fried chicken and grape juice, 40s or pancakes. (3) It is not appropriate to celebrate Black History Month with Kool Aid sales or hair care products or collard greens. (3) And if you don’t know more about black history than Martin Luther King (and “I Have a Dream”), and think Malcolm X is the leader of the Black Panther Party, you should first ask for your money back from whatever educational institution you have gone through. Second, spend February, March, and the rest of the year reading about Ella Baker and Ida B. Wells, Amzie Moore and Nathaniel Bacon and so many other people, experiences, creative endeavors.

To imagine blackness through popular culture icons, through celebrities is not only disrespectful to the beauty, rich history, and dynamic diversity of black life, but it is a missed opportunity to learn and grow.

Tim Wise (who recently wrote Dear White America) notes that talking about privilege is like asking a fish about water. Yet, white privilege surrounds us. It is evident in the ease of donning blackface, with the comfort of mocking black people and other communities of color, and with the professed ignorance about black history and culture. It isn’t that we don’t know, it is the pride in not knowing that embodies an attitude of disrespect and devaluing. White privilege is the acceptance of racist jokes and in the perpetuation of false ideas about race.

White privilege doesn’t have to enable blackface, dehumanizing impressions and commercialization of the Other. It can be resistance, refusal to be silent, and an unwillingness to sit idly by amid a culture of disrespect and violence. So, next time you hear a racist joke or think about donning blackface, or have friends who are planning some SMH event, do something! Next time you see discrimination or read about inequalities within our health care system, housing, employment or prisons, just say no! None of it is funny and it ain’t a joke.

Just so you don’t leave all mad shouting he is “calling me a racist.” I ain’t playing that game. This isn’t a “what you are” conversation but better “what you did” conversation. So, if what I am writing about here doesn’t connect with you, because you have never said or supported a racist joke, because you haven’t accepted a stereotype, because you haven’t dressed up or been at a party with racist costumes, I guess I am not writing to you.

Seriously, I am tired of that conversation and am hoping it is time for the “what can we do conversation” and “maybe we should start listening conversation” because the conversations we are having are getting tiresome, but not as much as the daily reminders that we are closer to Newt’s moon colony than to a post-racial America

via An Open Letter to ‘Dear White America’: On Ignorance and White Privilege | Urban Cusp.