Don Imus was a racist before he called anyone a "nappy-headed ho." Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who realizes that.
The fact that he insulted the Rutgers women's basketball team didn't surprise me a bit. Neither did the fact that he was back on the radio in a relatively short period of time after being suspended and eventually taken off the air. The only thing I was disturbed about is that so many people like to listen to the man that radio executives felt compelled to offer him a break and give him another job. Ratings are ratings after all.
Okay, maybe Imus isn't a racist. Maybe he's just racially insensitive. He means right, but seems too often to do the opposite. Maybe I have him all wrong.
He got into trouble again last week for suggesting it made sense that Adam "Pacman" Jones, a suspended NFL football player, formerly of the Tennessee Titans, to be arrested so often. Imus drew fire, not because he picked on an innocent target this time (Jones has made more news for arrests off the field than tackles or touchdowns on the field), but because he was talking about all the trouble the player had gotten into and when asked about Jones' ethnic background and was told he was black, said "there you go." Again, I wasn't surprised -- when I heard of the latest controversy -- that those types of words came from Imus.
Critics argued that Imus meant blacks are always getting into trouble, so Jones was just another in a long line. After all, there are more black men in America in jail or prison than in our colleges and universities.
Imus dismissed the criticism by saying he was merely referring to the fact that black men get harassed and arrested more frequently than their white counterparts. What? Imus the sympathizer? I doubt it.
Like Michael Jackson and little boys or R. Kelly and young girls, I think if you keep getting accused of maleficence with a certain group of people at some point it's more than a coincidence. Of course, Jackson and Kelly got the benefit of the doubt. Should Imus?
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
I think we'll do better
The thing I love about the Midwest and Detroit in particular is the fact that each year we get 12 weekends during the summer to shake off all of the malaise that months of dreary weather leave us entrapped by every year and have some fun. We usually take full advantage of those weekends and try to leverage each of those days to the fullest.
That's why I was so surprised to see a few dozen folks get together in the basement of church converted to office space by nonprofit Matrix Human Services on Detroit's east side on a sunny Saturday morning. The occasion was a community leaders advocacy workshop hosted by the Skillman Foundation and the University of Michigan. The goal was to equip adults and young people interested in their communities. Skillman and UM are trying to show Detroit residents how to make a difference where they live by advocating for issues that improve housing, safety, development and cleanliness in their neighrohoods.
I volunteered to participate in the series because it seemed like a good idea. It's a part of Skillman's Good Neighborhoods Initiative, targeting resources to six Detroit districts with the highest rates of children living in poverty. The idea is tomake the biggest difference in the areas that need the most help. If we can pump aid into neighborhoods where the future of our city is most in doubt, where the children who will eventually lead us are most likely facing peril, then we can infuse those areas with hope. It's certainly needed.
The session was productive, and I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that those in attendance were so engaged -- both the adults and the teens involved. Some even showed passion, like the woman who talked about her experience at a conference in New Orleans. She relayed a stat she heard about the failure of our children in their respective education systems and what that bodes for their future.
"Every child that can't read by third grade they build a jail cell for," Mrs. Eneh said, and she delivered the statement with an emotion that gripped the entire room.
And while I can't be sure of the source of her information I do know that every child who cannot read at grade level by third grade spends the rest of his or her life trying to catch up. Only 2 percent will ever earn a four-year college degree. The rest will drop out, turn to substance abuse or crime and end up in poor health, on public assistance, in jail or dead. That much is real.
But I am hopeful that there are people willing to step up to make sure that fewer of them suffer a dire fate. I realize we need greater numbers. A few dozen may only make a dent, although they can also create a substantial ripple. Worst case scenario is we'll do better.
That's why I was so surprised to see a few dozen folks get together in the basement of church converted to office space by nonprofit Matrix Human Services on Detroit's east side on a sunny Saturday morning. The occasion was a community leaders advocacy workshop hosted by the Skillman Foundation and the University of Michigan. The goal was to equip adults and young people interested in their communities. Skillman and UM are trying to show Detroit residents how to make a difference where they live by advocating for issues that improve housing, safety, development and cleanliness in their neighrohoods.
I volunteered to participate in the series because it seemed like a good idea. It's a part of Skillman's Good Neighborhoods Initiative, targeting resources to six Detroit districts with the highest rates of children living in poverty. The idea is tomake the biggest difference in the areas that need the most help. If we can pump aid into neighborhoods where the future of our city is most in doubt, where the children who will eventually lead us are most likely facing peril, then we can infuse those areas with hope. It's certainly needed.
The session was productive, and I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that those in attendance were so engaged -- both the adults and the teens involved. Some even showed passion, like the woman who talked about her experience at a conference in New Orleans. She relayed a stat she heard about the failure of our children in their respective education systems and what that bodes for their future.
"Every child that can't read by third grade they build a jail cell for," Mrs. Eneh said, and she delivered the statement with an emotion that gripped the entire room.
And while I can't be sure of the source of her information I do know that every child who cannot read at grade level by third grade spends the rest of his or her life trying to catch up. Only 2 percent will ever earn a four-year college degree. The rest will drop out, turn to substance abuse or crime and end up in poor health, on public assistance, in jail or dead. That much is real.
But I am hopeful that there are people willing to step up to make sure that fewer of them suffer a dire fate. I realize we need greater numbers. A few dozen may only make a dent, although they can also create a substantial ripple. Worst case scenario is we'll do better.
Monday, June 16, 2008
The invitation is the challenge
I went to a diversity discussion this evening sponsored by the Detroit Grosse Pointe Collaborative aimed at educating and sparking dialogue about issues of race.
The program started with a video, one that was well done I might add, which covered the issue of race as a social construct invented to empower some while placing others at a tremendous disadvantage. I was delightfully surprised to see that it documented at length the role of our government in placing people of color at a disadvantage during the 20th century by denying blacks, and transplants from Japan and India citizenship rights, and through mortgage lending practices to GI's following World War II, that were adopted by the mortgage industry broadly.
The mortgage issue material was interesting because, as the film detailed, giving GI's low-cost mortgages was the first step to making home ownership to all Americans affordable. Prior to the 1940's people had to put down half the cost of a home in order to get mortgage, but the government wanted war veterans to be able to buy a house in a good neighborhood, start a family and build a life. To do this, the government created a policy that allowed them to buy homes with 10-20 percent down. The housing boom was on after that. One woman in the film said she and her husband, who was a veteran, looked for apartments when he returned from the war, but couldn't find one for less than $150 -- quite expensive for the time. They were able to buy a home in a newly built suburban subdivision with a monthly payment of $65.
Unfortunately, that policy benefited mostly whites, led to sprawl and cultivated the system of red-lining, which disproportionally affects people of color. It also continues to affect the ability of blacks and Hispanics, particularly, to accumulate wealth. Denying people an opportunity to build equity in homes in solid neighborhoods with good schools and city services has adverse affects on their children and their grandchildren. They can't use that equity to pay for college tuition or pass on to their kids after they are gone.
Much of the material was also covered in the incredible exhibit on race that was hosted by the Charles Wright Museum of African American History in Detroit last year. So, for me, the evening's content felt familiar. A dinner and discussion followed, during which we were asked by a moderator to talk about our "a-ha" moments realized during the film.
The greatest moment for me came during the discussion, when I thought about the fact that this somewhat diverse group (it was only black and white, but from a wide demographic), shared an interest in the subject. But I had a problem. These folks wanted to be there. They were part of the choir, and I was hoping -- okay call me naive -- that there would be some people there who weren't into the "diversity thing."
As a result, I've got a new mission in the diversity and inclusion projects that I'm involved in, and that is to find an effective way of bringing critics into the fold. In fact, I'd like racists, the universally insensitive, the un-politically correct, sexists, homophobes, and anyone else who is against the idea of bringing people who are different together. I want to get people who could care less about valuing my differences into a room to talk about why. I yearn to bring folks who don't believe that race is a social construct, that race is real and that some races are superior to others, into one of these types of diversity events and get them to engage in dialogue.
I've asked some of the region's leading diversity experts how to get over this hump ... how to get more of the uninterested to the table. But I have yet to get a satisfactory answer. The best I've heard is "you have to ask them." I don't know of any who would except my invitation. I am willing to ask, and I am willing to take that on as a personal challenge. Are you?
The program started with a video, one that was well done I might add, which covered the issue of race as a social construct invented to empower some while placing others at a tremendous disadvantage. I was delightfully surprised to see that it documented at length the role of our government in placing people of color at a disadvantage during the 20th century by denying blacks, and transplants from Japan and India citizenship rights, and through mortgage lending practices to GI's following World War II, that were adopted by the mortgage industry broadly.
The mortgage issue material was interesting because, as the film detailed, giving GI's low-cost mortgages was the first step to making home ownership to all Americans affordable. Prior to the 1940's people had to put down half the cost of a home in order to get mortgage, but the government wanted war veterans to be able to buy a house in a good neighborhood, start a family and build a life. To do this, the government created a policy that allowed them to buy homes with 10-20 percent down. The housing boom was on after that. One woman in the film said she and her husband, who was a veteran, looked for apartments when he returned from the war, but couldn't find one for less than $150 -- quite expensive for the time. They were able to buy a home in a newly built suburban subdivision with a monthly payment of $65.
Unfortunately, that policy benefited mostly whites, led to sprawl and cultivated the system of red-lining, which disproportionally affects people of color. It also continues to affect the ability of blacks and Hispanics, particularly, to accumulate wealth. Denying people an opportunity to build equity in homes in solid neighborhoods with good schools and city services has adverse affects on their children and their grandchildren. They can't use that equity to pay for college tuition or pass on to their kids after they are gone.
Much of the material was also covered in the incredible exhibit on race that was hosted by the Charles Wright Museum of African American History in Detroit last year. So, for me, the evening's content felt familiar. A dinner and discussion followed, during which we were asked by a moderator to talk about our "a-ha" moments realized during the film.
The greatest moment for me came during the discussion, when I thought about the fact that this somewhat diverse group (it was only black and white, but from a wide demographic), shared an interest in the subject. But I had a problem. These folks wanted to be there. They were part of the choir, and I was hoping -- okay call me naive -- that there would be some people there who weren't into the "diversity thing."
As a result, I've got a new mission in the diversity and inclusion projects that I'm involved in, and that is to find an effective way of bringing critics into the fold. In fact, I'd like racists, the universally insensitive, the un-politically correct, sexists, homophobes, and anyone else who is against the idea of bringing people who are different together. I want to get people who could care less about valuing my differences into a room to talk about why. I yearn to bring folks who don't believe that race is a social construct, that race is real and that some races are superior to others, into one of these types of diversity events and get them to engage in dialogue.
I've asked some of the region's leading diversity experts how to get over this hump ... how to get more of the uninterested to the table. But I have yet to get a satisfactory answer. The best I've heard is "you have to ask them." I don't know of any who would except my invitation. I am willing to ask, and I am willing to take that on as a personal challenge. Are you?
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Free speech comes with a price
I was forwarded an e-mail this week originated by a woman once employed at the University of Toledo who was seeking support for her effort to reclaim a job she says she was fired from for exercising her right of free speech.
Looking at her listed merits, Crystal Dixon appears to be a solid human resources professional, with 25 years in the field, who had proven herself as an asset to the UT HR department. She says she was fired for an opinion piece she wrote in response to a column in the Toledo Free Press by Michael Miller, the publication's editor in chief, which she had some interest. In Miller's column he talked about employment discrimination faced by gays and lesbians and compared discrimination against them to injustices done to blacks and people with disabilities.
First, let me say I firmly, unequivocally believe in every American's right to free speech and their right to disagree with others -- as I do with Dixon.
The foundation of Dixon's letter was the well-worn argument that gays and lesbians make a choice to live the lifestyle they live and people who are black have no choice, nor do any other people of color, nor do people with forms of physical disabilities. Now as someone who woke up black today, and who will wake up even blacker tomorrow -- because I spent a lot of time out in the blistering sun today -- I thought I understood where she was going. I don't think the struggles of blacks in this country are comparable. But when she continued to make her argument, I quickly got lost.
You can choose not to believe scientists who argue genetics are a marker of sexuality. Do believe this, I know of no one who is gay or lesbian who has ever said it was a choice they made. I believe them for the simple fact that we all want to be loved, in one way or another, and I doubt anyone would want to be estranged from their family, shunned by their friends and looked down upon by many members of our society by "deciding" to live as a homosexual. Unfortunately, many gays and lesbians face all of this and more (including risks to their physical safety) when they begin to express their sexuality openly. It's sad, wrong and not something people should have to go through. But they do, and I find it hard to believe there's some compelling reason in "living the lifestyle" that makes all the hardship worth it.
Dixon was the interim associate vice president for human resources with UT, she says, until university president Dr. Lloyd Jacobs canned her effective May 8. She had worked for the university and its pre-merger entity the Medical University of Ohio since January 2002. During that time she says she hired and recommended the promotion of gays and lesbians and treated everyone equally.
That was before she wrote an op-ed in which she said she is a Christian who believes "Jesus Christ loves the sinners but hates the sin." Dixon mentioned instances when people realized their sin and left the "lifestyle," repented and began living "normal" heterosexual lives. She also pointed to data that indicates the average gay (Avg. gay man earns $62,000) and lesbian (Avg. lesbian woman earns $52,000) individual does better economically than the typical black man (Avg. $30,000) -- although I'm not sure how exactly where a man who is gay and black fits into the picture.
I don't agree with any of the rhetoric and I can understand why she was fired. It's unfortunate that she isn't free to say what she wants on her own time and dime, but the reality is that she is an HR executive at a major, public employer who has an obligation to ensure diverse and inclusive practices and policies are the order of the day. I value her opinion and do respect her right to share it, however much I disagree. What I don't get though is how someone with more than two decades in the field can't see how wrong this is?
I suspect her termination was as much for not realizing the damage her comments could cause to the university's ability to hire the most talented and diverse candidates available. I'm not suggesting I know the school's workforce demographics or commitment to diversity, but do believe Dixon's op-ed won't help it become more representative of the community's LGBT population.
Dixon is now trying to raise funds for her legal defense, and she's getting some support. It'll be interesting to see how this turns out. I know I'll keep an eye on the story.
Looking at her listed merits, Crystal Dixon appears to be a solid human resources professional, with 25 years in the field, who had proven herself as an asset to the UT HR department. She says she was fired for an opinion piece she wrote in response to a column in the Toledo Free Press by Michael Miller, the publication's editor in chief, which she had some interest. In Miller's column he talked about employment discrimination faced by gays and lesbians and compared discrimination against them to injustices done to blacks and people with disabilities.
First, let me say I firmly, unequivocally believe in every American's right to free speech and their right to disagree with others -- as I do with Dixon.
The foundation of Dixon's letter was the well-worn argument that gays and lesbians make a choice to live the lifestyle they live and people who are black have no choice, nor do any other people of color, nor do people with forms of physical disabilities. Now as someone who woke up black today, and who will wake up even blacker tomorrow -- because I spent a lot of time out in the blistering sun today -- I thought I understood where she was going. I don't think the struggles of blacks in this country are comparable. But when she continued to make her argument, I quickly got lost.
You can choose not to believe scientists who argue genetics are a marker of sexuality. Do believe this, I know of no one who is gay or lesbian who has ever said it was a choice they made. I believe them for the simple fact that we all want to be loved, in one way or another, and I doubt anyone would want to be estranged from their family, shunned by their friends and looked down upon by many members of our society by "deciding" to live as a homosexual. Unfortunately, many gays and lesbians face all of this and more (including risks to their physical safety) when they begin to express their sexuality openly. It's sad, wrong and not something people should have to go through. But they do, and I find it hard to believe there's some compelling reason in "living the lifestyle" that makes all the hardship worth it.
Dixon was the interim associate vice president for human resources with UT, she says, until university president Dr. Lloyd Jacobs canned her effective May 8. She had worked for the university and its pre-merger entity the Medical University of Ohio since January 2002. During that time she says she hired and recommended the promotion of gays and lesbians and treated everyone equally.
That was before she wrote an op-ed in which she said she is a Christian who believes "Jesus Christ loves the sinners but hates the sin." Dixon mentioned instances when people realized their sin and left the "lifestyle," repented and began living "normal" heterosexual lives. She also pointed to data that indicates the average gay (Avg. gay man earns $62,000) and lesbian (Avg. lesbian woman earns $52,000) individual does better economically than the typical black man (Avg. $30,000) -- although I'm not sure how exactly where a man who is gay and black fits into the picture.
I don't agree with any of the rhetoric and I can understand why she was fired. It's unfortunate that she isn't free to say what she wants on her own time and dime, but the reality is that she is an HR executive at a major, public employer who has an obligation to ensure diverse and inclusive practices and policies are the order of the day. I value her opinion and do respect her right to share it, however much I disagree. What I don't get though is how someone with more than two decades in the field can't see how wrong this is?
I suspect her termination was as much for not realizing the damage her comments could cause to the university's ability to hire the most talented and diverse candidates available. I'm not suggesting I know the school's workforce demographics or commitment to diversity, but do believe Dixon's op-ed won't help it become more representative of the community's LGBT population.
Dixon is now trying to raise funds for her legal defense, and she's getting some support. It'll be interesting to see how this turns out. I know I'll keep an eye on the story.
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