Racism is Over!

Obamistan! The book is here!!

2010-03-08T13:33:00.000-08:00

Hey everyone!

The blog became a book- and the book is here!

Here's the scoop:

Hilarious, sarcastic, and insightful, this witty companion to the new America—which its loyal citizens call Obamistan—offers recommendations for navigating this exciting utopia. Eyewitness testimonials, pop quizzes, newspaper clippings, and Twitter feeds tell unprepared citizens what to expect now that America has elected a black president and left prejudice and racism behind. This comprehensive manual addresses the ways in which all former hot-button issues—including immigration, health care, gentrification, reparations, foreclosures, holidays, and toilet paper—are now addressed in the gentle Obamistan, showing even those who miss the old America how to adjust. With details about Dick Cheney’s cozy new digs in Guantanamo Bay, this handbook covers the new America from sea to shining sea.

"a sense of hope and optimism -- something that sometimes feels completely missing among progressives these days."

Please check it out- we are sure you won't be disappointed. Enjoy, laugh, and consider not just voting for change, but being the change!

damali

Blogs

2009-04-01T12:04:00.000-07:00

Hey Folks!

We know there's been a bit of a lag in the blog these days. It's not because the New America hasn't given us plenty to write about, it has! But instead of laying it all out here, we decided to help our friend, artist and writer damali ayo, put all of this into a book. Obamistan! Land without Racism, Your Guide to the New America, will be released in early 2010. The book is just what you need to navigate and negotiate your way through this new, exciting, and sometimes tricky terrain.

We are working away at it, so if you have ideas to contribute, send them in! You could end up in print! She's also looking for cool photoshopers to help convert some of the ideas into images. If you've got the chops, drop her a line.

Keep living it up New-America-style!

Oh, and if you want something to read between now and then, check out damali's first book How to Rent a Negro.

Jamal and Tamika
and the Racism is Over! Crew

"Indian"

2009-03-02T04:20:00.000-08:00

Guest Blogger: Anu

In the New America, people have actually figured out that Native and Indigenous peoples are not Indian. That’s right, they actually figured out that Columbus did not actually land in India- and therefore that the people he found here are not actually Indians. It’s amazing to me that this took centuries and a black president to get people to figure this out. I got so sick of people asking me, “are you Asian Indian or Native American Indian?” Huh? There is no such thing as a Native American Indian. Indians are from India. Even worse, people would ask me “Are you spot or feather?” This was one of the hardest times for me to restrain myself and practice ahimsa, the Hindu principle of nonviolence. I swear my patience really got tested some days.

But now…now! When I say I am Indian, they say, “Oh, from what region? It’s like I woke up one day in a world where everyone is educated and actually in touch with reality. What a relief.

Rhyming

2009-02-16T03:44:00.000-08:00

One of my most recent discoveries about the New America is that I no longer have to rhyme my words in order to be listened to.

For years, I’ve been trying to be taken seriously as a, well, as a person, but I’ve found that people expect me to sound a certain way. Yes, people think I am going to talk in “black English” but really, after many years, I’ve discovered that what they really want me to do, in order to be remembered, it to rhyme. You know, they want me to sound like Jesse Jackson or any number of hip-hop artists. It’s all the same- for white folks to remember what you said, it’s best to make things rhyme.

But now, I can speak my mind and people actually understand me- they actually get what I am saying and they remember it! One person actually repeated my words to me the other day and got the gist and the details of what I was saying correct. When they couldn’t remember exactly they asked me “now, how did you frame that idea?” This is much different than the usual “okay, say it again. How did it go?” as if I were pitching them a song, or commercial jingle. I finally feel like I’m being taken seriously- without the need to rhyme.

And to that I say, maybe we have reached the day “when black will not be asked to get back, when brown can stick around, when yellow will be mellow, when the red man can get ahead, man; and when white will embrace what is right.”

Reservations (the dinner kind)

2009-02-09T01:20:00.000-08:00

I am so glad to report that I no longer need to use a fake name to get reservations at a restaurant!

Before, I would call up to reserve a table and I could hear the suspicion in the hostess’ voice when I said my name. “How exactly is that spelled?” It was like she was holding her nose just to write the thing down. It used to take three or four spellings just to get the person to write down my name. It took forever. They acted as if it were a collection of letters that had no business lining up next to each other, let alone being pronounced all at the same time. Then finally when I would get to the restaurant, I’d have to find my own name on the reservation list because the hostess couldn’t find my name because she had no idea how to visualize it to look for it on the list. Even if she could, it wouldn’t matter because after several spellings of my name on the phone to the first hostess, my name always still ended up misspelled on the list. It got to be such an exhausting experience that I just started using the name “Jen Brown” to make reservations.

It’s funny how there is something about racism being over that means that people of color are actually known about and understood. It doesn’t remove who we are or make us invisible- it makes me feel as if I am no longer an out-layer. I am actually part of the norm. Who knew that feeling average would feel so good? Being boring is actually a pleasure! I had friends who used to say “I’m just a boring white guy.” I didn’t know that meant “Life is good because I can relax and be taken as a regular part of our culture and not be made to feel like a wart on society on a regular basis.”

I get it now.

Police

2009-02-05T13:02:00.000-08:00

Guest Blogger: Edward

It’s been so great to be a police officer since racism has ended. It makes my job so much easier! I have to admit, that it was hard to keep so much in my head at once. I mean, we didn’t just have to remember the laws, our code of conduct, how to get around the city and use our sirens and weapons, but we also had to remember all this stuff about black people being drug addicts, brown-skinned people with head things being spies and consipirtors, brown-skinned people standing on corners being illegal, and that everyone with an accent was a terrorist. That’s just the half of it. Really, it was too much. We got confused, we really did. So we simplified it to the idea that brown-skinned people across the board were inherently more violent and dangerous than everyone else. So shoot them. Really, we have a lot to think about so we had to make something simple to remember.

That seemed to work out okay for the most part, very few officers lost their jobs with that policy, so we were cool with it. But now we know that’s not true. You’d think this would shatter our realities, but it actually makes our jobs even easier! Now we just treat everyone as a citizen who deserves equal respect and investigation if the situation merits it. We actually find out things like facts and details and then act on those. I mean, it makes sense when you think about it, no matter how much of a criminal one person is the probably aren’t more dangerous than three of us carrying guns, clubs and tazers, right?

Fake Siblings (aka “Bro” and “Sista”)

2009-02-03T12:47:00.000-08:00

Oh, Jamal…you know how I used to hate when someone I was not related to called me “sista?” Well, I am happy to say that since the dawn of our new country, this has not been a problem at all. People now address me using…wait for it…it’s shocking…are you sitting down?….my name. Yes, that’s right- people actually use my name when they are trying to connect with me in conversation. It’s such a lovely change of pace. For a while I was getting suspicious that white people called black women “sister” because they couldn’t tell us apart from on another, and that “sis” was a good catch-all that prevented the chore of having to learn a black person’s actual name. I do have to admit, I feel like my family has grown just a bit smaller, but that’s okay by me.

Oh, Tamika, you are not kidding around, if one more person called me “bro” who was not actually my brother, I think I was going to sick my mother on them.

(T-shirt design by TBWear)

Small Talk

2009-01-27T08:42:00.000-08:00

Hey Tamika,

Remember "back in the day" when it seemed like every time a white person wanted to talk to you they started by talking about the latest book they read by a black person. If they hadn't read a book by a black person they'd bring up the latest popular (ie: Denzel Washington or Will Smith) movie? If you hadn't seen it they'd look at you like you were some kind of inauthentic black person, or...crazy.

It seems like just yesterday my friend Vishal was saying that random people keep wanting to talk to him about Slumdog Millionaire, Kate and Janet say every time they hold hands in public someone taps them on the shoulder and to tell them that they voted against proposition 8, and Juan Carlos says that he had gotten plum sick of hearing about Bill Richardson. I agree, if I heard one more person tell me "aren't you proud of Obama? and all that your people have achieved?" I was going to go postal.

But now, in our post-racism world, people just talk to each other. Wow, it's like a breath of fresh air- they just say hello and ask about work, the weather, or the latest news or sports. It's not so much that people are color blind- I feel very comfortable bringing up race, I mean- they can see that I'm black. It's no secret, but now I get to bring it up on my terms, in my own way. People don't think that the only thing there is to talk about is the latest shallow association they have with people who look like me.

Or do they?

Cookies

2009-01-26T05:37:00.000-08:00

Remember how back in the days of racism it could be so hard to even get a cookie in this country without encountering some racist caricature? Especially in New York city, the most international city in the world- it was nearly impossible to walk into a bakery without walking out in a huff. Well, now we have nothing to worry about. You can rest assured that racist cookies are a thing of the past. So, eat up! Chocolate is just chocolate after all.

Presidential Inaugurations

2009-01-20T05:02:00.000-08:00

Yeah, this definitely is different than before.

MLK Day

2009-01-19T04:51:00.000-08:00

The country finally gave up its strangle-hold on Martin Luther King Jr. and admitted that many many courageous activists worked together to change this country.

Now we celebrate all of us.

Thank goodness.
and thank Martin, Malcolm, Huey, Bobby, Ida, WEB, Fredrick, Shirley, Stokely, Amiri, Medgar, Fannie Lou, Rosa, Mary, Angela, Barbara, Ralph, A. Phillip, Bayard, and many many more.

Greeting Cards

2009-01-15T16:40:00.000-08:00

Hey Tamika-

You know how I used to get so angry trying to buy greeting cards? Remember how I used to stomp out of the stores in a huff because every dad on the "Fathers's day" cards were white? Remember when I complained to that gift shop when I tried to get a card for my mother's birthday but all the cards I found for "Happy Birthday Mom" had white ladies in aprons on them? Remember how I refuse to go back into that store and you have to listen to a tirade from me about it every time we pass by?

Well not anymore! I am so excited. Today I went back to that same gift shop- my sister's birthday is around the corner and you know how my family is obsessed with gifts and cards. Anyhow I held my breath and walked inside hoping that the new america would make the whole greeting card thing easier for me and low and behold.....cards with people of all kinds of races on them!

I couldn't believe my eyes! In addition to that there was an entire row of cards dedicated to actual social issues. Seems like people can talk about it now that racism is over the greeting card industry realized that they were missing out on a giant marketing opportunity. So now you can get cards about coming out to your parents, announcing unwanted pregnancies, getting a divorce, and much much more! You can even get cards saying "I really need to talk to you about something..." and it has a little wheel that you can circle about to get just the right topic for your intervention. This stuff is perfect for my family!

"Click" the Sound of Car Doors Locking

2009-01-12T16:33:00.000-08:00

Alice wrote us an email to share one of the things that she's glad has changed in the New America:

As people drive in Cleveland they used to see a group of people on the street and hit the car lock button. Embarrassing for everyone. No need for that now. They might even have the window down and wave and say 'Hi!'

You are so right Alice! Now people will roll down the window and say HI! to all who pass. Now the only "clicking" sound you hear as you walk down the street in Cleveland will be the sound of cameras taking pictures of our incredibly positive and fellow-citizen-loving world!

Thanks for writing in!

Jamal and Tamika

Emotions

2009-01-06T09:57:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year everyone!

I am so glad to start this new year in a country where racism is over! I feel like a new born babe, able to be exactly who I want to be, exactly the way I want to be.

One of the things I most enjoy about the new America is that now I can have any and all of the emotions I want to have without feeling like I am being a representative for my race. I can just be "Angry Tamika" instead of the "angry black woman" or I can be "Happy Tamika" without being labeled "Nell Carter," you know what I mean. I can just be me. My emotions aren't related to my race anymore. It was so frustrating in the old america when I would get angry or upset about something, it could be anything- it could have been how the bakery messed up my neice's birthday cake, and people would immediately make it into a racial thing, "do you think it's because you are black?" What? No. Even when I tried to explain that it was because my neice aways wanted blue icing on a cake and the bakery gave me green icing (ew), people still said "I bet they were really scared of you because you are such an angry black woman." or the woman at the bakery said "I'm not prejudiced, we just got the order wrong." I hadn't even mentioned race.

Now, I can complain and bitch and moan all I want and I'm just being me.

Kwanzaa

2008-12-28T11:30:00.000-08:00

Guest blogger: Joy

Harambe Everybody! Habari Gani!

I am so stoked that now that racism is over I can celebrate Kwanzaa in peace!

It seemed for a while there like there would never be any way to enjoy my favorite holiday with the joy and community that it creates without being misunderstood, told I am a weirdo, ridiculed, compared to Hanukkah, made fun of or told I'm a freak. When I was a kid no one knew anything about Kwanzaa and my mom had to come to my school and explain it to everyone. Now that I have grown up, Kwanzaa has turned into a joke on MadTV and everyone thinks it's funny to wish someone a happy Kwanzaa. Last year, I couldn't even put the days of the week on my Facebook status because people kept commenting on how it is a fake made-up holiday.

What holiday isn't made up? Seriously. You think Easter eggs were what...invented by god? Did they come raining down from the heavens one day? Come on.

Now I can light my candles with pride and joy! People have heard of Kwanzaa, know what it is, how to celebrate it and no one makes fun of me anymore. What a relief.

So...now I can say with confidence, Happy Kwanzaa everybody! Let's all pull together (Harambee)!

Santa Claus

2008-12-24T04:29:00.000-08:00

Oh. My. Goodness. Tamika, this might be my favorite part of the new post-racism America. I nearly fell out when I was at my brother’s house to decorate the Christmas tree this year. My little nephew, looks up and says “Daddy, why does the fat white man bring us presents every year?” and my Brother, without skipping a beat replied,

“Well, son, you know how they taught you in school about the all the other fat white men who put your grandpa’s grandpa into slavery?”

“Yeah. They were really scary.”

“They sure were, Hakim. And then after that, they kept your grandpa from voting, and going to school, and they used to keep me from getting jobs that were equal to the jobs they had. But not all white people are scary, or mean, or invested in racial inequality. In fact now, white people embrace and promote racial equality. As a symbol of that, a friendly, nice fat white man comes and brings presents to kids all over the world to remind us that everyone is equal and deserving of all that is good.”

“Awesome! I love Santa Claus.”

I swear I nearly spit out my egg nog.

But it did make me miss my favorite holiday song...

Telling People Apart

2008-12-23T04:30:00.000-08:00

I totally hear you Su Yin. Along those lines, have you noticed that people seem to be able to tell each other apart? I haven’t been mistaken for the other black men at my office yet. Every time the three of us are in the break room at the same time, and one of our white colleagues comes in we look at ourselves wondering who will be called by whose name. We were placing bets on it for a while but so far, no one’s mixed us up at all. And even better, no one has come in and told us that we look just like the latest black movie start to be in a Hollywood movie. And, it seems they can tell those guys apart too. No more “I saw this movie with Denzel…no, maybe it was Taye…or was it Jamie…you know, one of those guys.” They actually call me, my colleagues, and all other black men by their names!

Accents

2008-12-22T04:28:00.000-08:00

Guest Blogger: Su Yin

Jamal and Tamika,
I swear I am about to cry as I write this. I really thought this day would never ever come, not in my lifetime not in the lifetime of the kids I hope to have one day, not in the lifetime of the grandkids I hope to have one day. But it has come.

For centuries people have been making fun of the way Asians and Asian Americans talk. Everyone seems to think it’s a normal thing to mock someone’s accent. I get made fun of by kids in school, adults in offices, or celebrities on TV (shout out to Rosie O’Donnell, Al Roker and Kathy Lee Gifford) On top of that I think I will never hear “what kind of Chinese is that?” when I tell people that I’m Taiwanese. People used to act like they’ve never heard of Taiwain, (except as the place all plastic was made) let alone understood the relationship and struggle between China and Taiwain.

But today…today I woke up to a world where I will never have to hear the words “ching chong” again. On top of that, no one is ever going to say to me again “you speak such good English!” Thinking I’m an immigrant, instead of someone whose family has been here for three generations.

I really never thought the day would come when something that had haunted me my whole life would be handled in such a mature, respectful and beautiful way. I think I can actually think about starting a family now- now that there’s one less terrible thing my kids will have to face in this world.

Children Named Hitler

2008-12-19T04:41:00.000-08:00

Here’s a real news story from the "old America”

The father of three-year-old Adolf Hitler Campbell is asking for a little tolerance, “A name's a name. The kid isn't going to grow up and do what [Hitler] did." Young Adolf has two younger sisters. JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell will be two in February, while an infant named after Heinrich Himmler turns 1 in April.

This would never ever happen in post-racism America.

Spray Tan

2008-12-18T05:17:00.000-08:00

Whew. Now that racism is over, and white people are comfortable in their own skin, they stopped doing strange things like this...

That's got to be better for them, everyone around them and the environment, don't you think?

History

2008-12-17T04:51:00.000-08:00

I really wondered what post-racism America would do with History. I mean we’ve been telling such a skewed and twisted tale of history for so long, I couldn't imagine how the new America would deal with it. So much has been incorrect, inaccurate and down right biased over the many years of our pre-post-racism country. Setting the record straight was going to be a huge task.

I remembered that reparations check that you got in the mail, Jamal, so I headed down to the Department of Truth and Reconciliation. I found that they had created a an office of Historical Accuracy. Good start. I peeked in and learned that Howard Zinn was appointed Secretary of History. He wasn’t there of course, he was out “with the people” the administrative assistant told me. Zinn has been assigned (well he was nominated and instantly appointed) to on the gigantic task of undoing the historical deceptions and manipulations that had been a part of curricula, text books, folk tales, stamps, currency, the History Channel, Elvis - everything that had been a part of the propaganda machine of the former American ways. Of course, Zinn's job is made easier by the fact that people of color have been writing our own histories for so long, that really all the department had to do is actually incorporate those into the official record.

Howard’s buddy and Hollywood Hottie, Matt Damon became the public relations arm of the office as the History Ambassador. He travels around the country and the world putting a friendly (and cute) face on the New America. It’s serious work but Matt has really helped to diffused a lot of the anger that has resulted from the western-centric lies of history telling. Matt offers himself, “As a representative of the United States, I admit that we really twisted history to make ourselves look better. But I am here to help us make it right,” and people seem to really listen.

You might ask why assign two white men to the task of correcting history in a post-racism country? Well, I asked the same question. In fact, I went right up to sexy ol’ Matt Damon and asked him directly. “Who better?” He smiled, “We know exactly what we did to turn history in our favor in the first place. Plus it’s time the white guys did some of the heavy lifting around here.” Damn, that man is hot.

The Supreme Court

2008-12-16T04:52:00.000-08:00

Speaking of juries, the ultimate jury in our land had to (obviously) be completely re-populated. Now, in the effort to assist the highest court in the land to interpret the constitution in the most informed and objective way, the Senate decided that it should, like all branches of government, be representative of the people it governs. With nine seats available, five are now filled by women, and five by people of color (overlapping is obviously allowed). There’s one gay judge, one judge under 35, and two with disabilities. Justices are appointed by the House, confirmed by the Senate and serve a term of 10 years. The Constitution has never looked so good. Ben Franklin would be beside himself with joy. You can almost hear the voice John Marshall in the room cheering, “Keep up the good work, everyone!” Carriage of justice has been phenomenal since.

Old Glory

2008-12-15T04:52:00.000-08:00

Wow. They are really going all the way with this thing.

Guantanamo Bay

2008-12-11T11:35:00.000-08:00

I’ve been wondering, what does a country do with its off-shore military detention facility in a post-racism world? It’s a dilemma I am sure many countries will face as they follow in the footsteps of the United States. The New American Way- electing leaders of color, changing their ways, teaching accurate history, re-envisioning heroes, and of course, punishing those who act against freedom. We are, after all, still America.

But in the new post-racism America, we do things differently. So I did some research to find out just what happened with ol’ Git’mo. Here’s what I found. The first thing we did was to start paying Cuba a decent price for the land we occupy. The Castro brothers (more keep emerging) are quite pleased with the new rent-to-own agreement we have about the land where the Guantanamo Bay Facility sits. They of course use our dollars to improve the farming and education of the citizens of Cuba, basically it’s a win-win situation.

Next we had to decide just who to put in the darn place. That wasn’t as hard as it might have seemed. In fact, when things changed and racism was abolished, there were, as you might expect, a few folks who would not let go of the old ways. But we couldn’t let them stay in the country. They are enemies of freedom. Nonetheless, everyone seems to have found their own niche. Former Supreme Court Justices Thomas and Scalia share a cell (their request) and pass the time making paper dolls out of copies of the Constitution, Don Imus and Howard Stern host a morning show and take turns hurling insults at each other, and there were so many Fox News people that they gave them their own studio. They produce a cute little Git’news show every night to keep everyone informed about all the gossip and goings on at the base. Mel Gibson has taken up as the resident corner drunk- finally a role he’s good at, Michael Richards still tries his hand at comedy but even there he seems to bomb, and apparently Rosie O’Donnell wanders aimlessly around mumbling to herself and laughing at her own jokes, but that’s not so different than before.

It’s not a bad facility. I am told that people are treated humanely. They get three square meals a day. They are allowed to worship and pray as they choose. There’s a nice gym for them to work out and you can’t beat the weather down there. When they are not in voluntary re-education or therapy sessions, they socialize, go for walks, and several of the detainees are writing their memoirs. Pre-post-racism literature has not been outlawed in the New America. In fact it has quite the following, “we must know where we came from so we never go back.”

Juries

2008-12-11T05:23:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I fulfilled my civic responsibility and reported for jury duty. It wasn’t half bad. They had a big room with comfy chairs, wireless internet, phones, coffee, tea and pastry. Who could complain? I got more work done sitting there all day than I do at my usual office.

At the beginning of the day, one of the judges came in and gave us a little pep-talk about how serving as a juror is one of the very few things you are required to do as part of living in a democracy. You know the speech, they give it every day, but this time there was something different.

The judge continued, “And now that racism is over, our system is committed to picking juries that truly represent a cross-section of our country and give the system a sense of balance and objectivity that it lacked for so many years. We no longer send black defendants to trial with all-white juries. I mean, those juries could barely tell black people apart, let alone tell which black person is innocent or guilty. Hell, one jury got so confused they tried to send the prosecuting attorney to jail. I for one sure got tired of sending innocent people to jail. It was getting hard to sleep at night. You can only take so much NyQuil in one night you know.” The judge laughed nervously, squeezed her shoulder with her mic-free hand and seemed to get lost in her thought for a moment.

She shook off her temporary demon and got back on track, “And no more white defendants with all-black…oh uh, we never really had the opposite problem, so really, what I am saying here is basically, you know, uh, ‘no more all-white juries.’ And that means no more all-white-with-one-person-of-color juries either. I’m talking actual diversity here people, you know like the country we live in? Representative democracy, Anyone? Just like the Founding Fathers intended it? Remember? It’s not that hard people.” Now she had found her stride. The judge had a bit of failed-comedian-turned-talk-show-host in her.

“Anyway, what this means for you folks is that we will be calling a selection of you forward randomly by your name on the list. If we see that the selected group is not racially balanced we will shuffle some of you in and out until we get a jury that can carry out justice without the racial imbalance that can lead to bias in our judicial process. Do you get what I am saying, people? Can I get a witness? I mean…a juror! Hah!”

The potential jurors all mumbled “yes” and went back to texting, typing and watching the new big-screen TVs that had been installed to keep us from gauging each others’ eyes out from boredom.

Jesus

2008-12-10T09:33:00.000-08:00

A bedtime tale.

“Okay sweetie, time to say your prayers.” The little boy kneeled at the side of his bed, turned his head toward his palms as he pressed them together and squeezed his eyes tight. Just as his mother was leaving the room, his concentration broke. He turned quickly to catch his her before she reached the door.

“Mom, what did Jesus look like?” he asked as if all of a sudden he didn’t know who his prayers were going to.

“Well...” his mother turned toward her son, walked back and sat on the bed beside him. She looked lovingly into his deep brown eyes, and ran her fingers through his loosely curly brown hair, then paused as she rested her hand on his caramel colored cheek. Finally she tapped him on his wide nose and smiled, “he looked a lot like you.”

“He did?” The little boy delighted as the picture of his spiritual hero formed in his mind.

“Yes, he did. Jesus lived in a time and place where people looked a lot like you do. They had curly brown hair, warm sun-touched skin, and brown eyes, and wide noses just like you.”

“How come Christopher’s house has a picture of Jesus that has blue eyes and white skin like his?”

“Well, sweetie, everyone wants their god to look like them. It’s one of the reasons the world has so many different and amazing religions. But for a long time one group of people wanted everyone’s god to look like they did. They knew that if people sought direction and guidance from a god that looked white like them, then people would more easily take direction and guidance from white people instead of themselves. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Sort of. You mean, if I pray to Jesus and he looks like me, then I’m going to believe in myself the way I believe in Jesus. But if he looks like Christopher then I might believe more in Christopher than in myself.”

“Yes, that’s kind of what it was like back then.”

“That sounds bad. I like believing in myself.”

“I know you do honey. But Christopher needs a role model too. That’s probably why he has the picture of blue-eyed Jesus in his house.”

“Should I tell Christopher that he is wrong?”

“Of course not, sweetie. We don’t believe that people are right or wrong about religion. That kind of thinking caused lots of terrible things to happen in the past- wars, murder, slavery… terrible, horrible things. Now, we have learned that everyone has the right to believe in their own path, because we know that there are so many deep connections between the religions that they all have something valid to teach their followers and each other. That’s why we have books on so many different religions downstairs.”

“Yeah, I like reading about all the different ways that people believe in God.”

“God is pretty great, huh?”

“Yeah, God can be everything to everyone- I guess that’s what makes God, God though.” The boy laughed.

“That’s right, honey. God is everywhere. We should never doubt the infinite wisdom of God that created so many religions to serve so many wonderful, beautiful, different people.”

“Okay. I am going to thank God for that tonight in my prayers. I’ll say, ‘thank you God for being so wise, and so welcoming and flexible for everyone on the planet. Thanks for making so many ways for us to love you.'”

“That sounds perfect. Now, finish up and go to bed, you have school in the morning and it’s Asian American Artist Day and you’re doing your presentation on Byron Kim.”

“Yeah, I’m excited about that, he’s soooooo cool. Goodnight mom.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Catchy Phrases

2008-12-08T08:55:00.000-08:00

Here’s yet another way that living racism-free encourages vocabulary growth. People no longer use racism-based catch phrases to say what they mean. Like “you’re a real slave driver” or “she’s really cracking the whip.” This includes all related sound effects as well. Now people say what they mean, like “you’re really encouraging us to work hard.” How refreshingly accurate, with absolutely no reference to 200 years of brutal enslavement of an entire race! Who would have thought of that before? Phrases like “Indian summer” and “ricing your car” have also fallen by the wayside, as people realize the error of their prior ways. Naturally, this has carried over into non-racist cringe-worthy phrases. People almost never say “he is pimping you out” or “she drank the kool-aid," and no one uses "retarded" anymore. It’s really raised our caliber of conversation out of the gutter.

People also stopped being so defensive about their lack of vocabulary skills and instead filled the gap in their verbal repertoire with more words. Now that’s an easy solution! Amazing. Before people would debate and defend every insulting thing they said as if it was the hearer’s ears that had caused it to be offensive. Now, if a phrase has a hint, or even a myth of disrespect about it, people eschew it for an accurate, clearer non-insulting sentence. It’s nearly a renaissance of the English language!

Political Prisoners

2008-12-08T08:26:00.001-08:00

As to be expected, Leonard Peltier and Mumia Abu-Jamal were finally released from prison and given full pardons. Their cells are now occupied by Henry Kissinger and Dick Cheney, who, after years of evading capture, were convicted of war crimes and crimes against humanity.

Kissinger is handling it fine, becoming kind of the ‘godfather’ of the entire prison system, he’s really found his niche, actually it’s pretty much the same niche he filled when he was not in prison. Cheney on the other hand, is suffering on the brink of a nervous breakdown. He can’t take the confinement or the isolation, never mind the waterboarding.

Interracial Relationships

2008-12-05T08:47:00.000-08:00

We got this email yesterday from someone who is really enjoying the New America:

Hey guys!

I just wanted to let you know how my life was going now that racism is over.
It's awesome! My boyfriend and I don't get a stare-down every time we go
somewhere in public.

That's right, NO STARES.

You see, my boyfriend and I used to cause quite a stir. I’m white, and he's
black. If we went anywhere- the movies, a restaurant, the park, etc. etc.,
people would stare at us, until he or I looked at them, and then they would
quickly look away, or, even worse, glare at us with open disdain. That doesn't
happen anymore!

I also no longer have to listen to my grandmother inform me how difficult I’m
making my life by dating a black man, hooray!

YAY for no racism!

-Elizabeth

Congratulations Elizabeth! It is so wonderful that interracial couples are now safe to move about the country freely and openly. Before (no joke) you really had to pick your spots for holding hands. Now, since there’s no conflict between the races, and everyone is treated equally, people don’t worry about how hard it’s going to be for your kids, or fret that you’ll just never make it. Families are stronger and happier than ever, and welcoming back the members who they thought had crossed over to the other side. As I said in an earlier, post dating is so much easier now too. No more racial tourism! Now people are learning about each other and making actual commitments. It’s downright romantic. Glad grandma finally got on board, sorry it took her 76 years, but better late than never!

Thanks for sharing. Give your boyfriend a big hug from all of us!

Race

2008-12-04T07:35:00.000-08:00

Guest Blogger: Prof. Cornell Eric Hooks-Wise

That’s right class, in a post-racism world everybody gets to have a race. I know that many of you thought that the essentialist ontological classifications of race should and would evaporate once we made enough progress to call ourselves post-racist, but as my colleagues and I have lectured and written for decades, it has come to now be understood that race, per se, was never the problem. How we deal with race, how we treat each other better or worse based on racialized stratifications, our culture of racial supremacy, superiority and ipso facto caste systems was the problem. This is what we’ve meant all along when we say that race is a social construct. We didn’t mean that race was made up- obviously it’s right here in front of us, but the critical nature of race lies in our practical, political, and economic application of it. How we handle it, how we put our differences into our societal structures is where the construction of race lies. Now, now that we are engaging in a post-racial societal reformation We’ve finally learned to use the gift of race for good and not for evil.

I know that many of you are disappointed because you hoped that the ol’ “we’re all one human race” thing would prevail and that some how magically one morning we would all emerge out of bed the same generic tan color, and that race would there by be obsolete. Or that we would all lose the full use of our ocular cones and rods and “stop seeing race.” I know this might be a hard adjustment for you, (though I’ve been trying to prepare you for this for years). But, fear not! I do have the good news that acknowledging race does not erase our commonalities. Of course we are all related. Yes our similarities are important, and should be celebrated. Yes, we are all one human species, (hey there’s that correct grammar coming into play again). So don’t worry your unifying little minds. Race was never what pulled us apart in the first place.

So go forth and enjoy this new era, students. Embrace your race, Embrace your species. Embrace your new world!

Now leave me alone, I have a seriously overdue sabbatical to take.

White

2008-12-03T08:59:00.000-08:00

Guest Blogger: Becky

Hey guys? Guess what?

I’m white!!!

Yep, I’m white. I’m white, I’m white, I’m white, I’m white. White, white, white, white, white.

I. Am. White.

Wow it feels soooo good to say that!
I have spent so much energy thinking of other things to call myself so that I don’t have to admit that I am white and I was starting to run out of things to say. I had tried “I’m Caucasian” but then someone told me that that is an anthropological category that includes lots of brown-skinned people (oh, it's also a breed of dog). I tried “I’m Irish” but then I was told that that is an ethnicity (not a race) and that once again, brown-skinned people can be that too. Then I tried “I’m 1/16 Native American,” but that was just a lie.

Now I can just say “I’m white!” So cool!

I have to admit, I was so freaked out by the whole thing that I had to ask one of my old college professors to help me to understand how this all works. I didn’t want to enjoy it too much if it’s not the right thing to do. It can get pretty confusing at times. I used to feel so much guilt every time I said white. Even when people of color explained to me that not saying my race was a part of a racist system. I never got that. I always thought that being white was a bad thing. But then someone asked me to think about all the good things that are white. I did. I thought about clouds, and snow, and soft bunnies, milk, and George Clooney, and I felt so much better. I know that white people have done some pretty bad things over the years. It’s hard to admit that people like Hitler and Jeffrey Dahmer and the Unabomber are white like me, but I have to acknowledge that they are as much a part of my race as the good people like Thomas Edison, Howard Zinn and Mr. Rogers, but I think I can do that. I mean, no race is perfect is it? Wow, how’s that for a revelation?! White people aren’t perfect! This is so freeing!

Geography

2008-12-03T08:49:00.000-08:00

Wow, people in the United States actually know where other people’s countries are now. And people actually know that Africa is a continent with 47 countries in it, not just one giant desert full of black people.

Somebody tell Sarah Palin.

Sports Mascots

2008-12-01T09:50:00.001-08:00

Okay, Tamika, I know you’re not the biggest sports fan in the world, but did you see the game between the Sequoias and the Polars? It was off the hook! I went over my parents’ house and my family made a day of it, we all brought food had a great time. The kids, who are usually bored and distracting, read books about trees and wildlife. They kept screaming "Go Sequoias! We love trees!" Then they switched loyalties when there was an ad during half time that showed them how to adopt a polar bear family. They all agreed to send a portion of their allowance to make sure one polar bear family gets fed and is able to safely raise its cubs. It’s a way to deal with the repercussions of global warming. It was a great time. My parents are life-long sports fans and had just about given up watching nearly everything because they got so sick of seeing smiley, buck-toothed people of color bouncing along the fields and courts on team helmets and jerseys. Now that sports teams everywhere realized that there’s no money in exploiting people of color, my parents can watch again. I hear that viewership for nearly all sports has increased and sales of team memorabilia has tripled.

Plus, the NFL finally got rid of the eighteen mascots that were all basically variations on the same animal. You remember the cougars, the jaguars, the panthers, and the leopards etc. It all got too confusing. Talk about a lack of creative thinking. Geez. Now, instead of racist caricatures and big cats, sports teams have taken up the mantles of endangered species- things that actually have reason to be angry and fighting for their lives. Plus each team donates a portion of their winnings, ticket sales, and fan gear sales to protecting the piece of nature that they’ve adopted as their mascot. It makes the whole experience so much more involved. This whole post-racism world opens discoveries that people probably never expected!

Black

2008-11-29T17:02:00.001-08:00

Hey Jamal, isn’t it refreshing to hear "black" as a racial category and not as a synonym for all the worst things in the world? Now that racism is over, people no longer use the world “black” to mean “evil,” “wicked,” “ugly,” “dirty,” “bad,” “looming,” “sinister,” “psychologically twisted,” “disturbing,” “Darth Vaderesque,” or as a descriptor for all things negative? No more black comedy, black magic, or black spots on your soul. Gone are the “dark sides” and “dark moods.” Of course that means that “white” no longer means all things good, as in “white magic,” “white lies” and “white supremacy.” Now people use real English vocabulary to describe things with actual specificity. Having to find the words to say what they really mean, people are re-engaged with actual communication skills. Thesaurus sales have increased ten-fold! It’s created a real renaissance of language. Who knew we had so many useful words at our disposal?

I’ve also noticed that now that people don’t think that black is a bad word, so that when referring to a black person, people no longer whisper "black" like it was a life-threatening disease. Remember how people used to stutter when they try to say that someone is “b…b…bl…black,” often becoming so scared to say the b-word that they stumble into some other b-descriptor to put before it, which I suppose makes the word “black” easier to say. You know what I mean, right? White people try to describe a black man walking down the street, they start to say “black” but then get nervous and say something like:

“I saw this b…b…big black man walking down the street. Oh, did I say big? I meant beautiful this… uh, b…beautiful…black man, yeah, that’s what I meant.”

It would take them so long to get “black” out of their mouths, that by the time they did they were so traumatized that they forgot why they brought up the big beautiful black man in the first place. This precipitated many blank stares from white people, I guess waiting for me to either approve or get offended at their description. When I stared back at them, simply waiting for them to finish their sentence, panic often ensued, resulting in the frequent comment “you don’t’ think I’m racist because I said that, do you?” Awkward.

Kindergarten and elementary art school teachers have also stopped proclaiming “black is not a color!” at the top of their lungs. They recognize that this has confused children for decades and became a frequent playground taunt used against African American children. Ugh I hated that! Especially when it made its way from the playground of my childhood to the office staff meetings of my adulthood. People really hold onto that stuff they learn as kids. Now the teachers leave the dynamics of color theory for a time when students can understand it, (like in art school) and let kids be kids and just play with their paint.

Thanksgiving

2008-11-27T10:38:00.001-08:00

Guest Blogger: Blue Wing

Hey Jamal and Tamika,

I never thought I would see this day come. Talk about a day to be thankful. After generations of people gathering together on the third Thursday of November to relive myths of false history, and indulge in gluttony as a celebration of the “discovery” of centuries-old land. After hundreds of years of the country praising the people who nearly exterminated my relatives, nearly my entire race…. “Thanksgiving” has finally ended.

The day has been replaced with “First Nations Day” a national day of apology, mourning and education. Kids do not get the day off from school, but adults do get the day off from work in order to share in the national day of education. This way the day still maintains a focus on family and community, but in a memoriam of the families that were split apart by death and relocation, and to honor the communities that were set to war against each other. Adults join the kids in school and spend the day learning nonviolent communication skills and conflict resolution. Now, when people say “never again” they actually have the tools to back up that statement.

The original plan for the national day of mourning was to read the names of all the Native peoples who died in the founding of the United States, the way they do with all the other memorials but the list was far too long. Genocide is inconvenient that way, isn’t it? Instead, members of the US Senate gather to read and enter into the record a list of the many things that have been co-opted, stolen from or gifted and invented by Native American peoples without which this country could not have grown and succeeded. This is fun for the kids to watch on television as a part of the school day, because it includes everything from potato chips, root beer and beef jerky to rubber products, anesthetics and detoxification. The kids pick from the list and create a project to do with their family based on one important offering from Native Americans. Kids do everything from learn how to make their own potato chips to help their parents quit smoking.

Instead of creating “Pilgrim and Indian” skits, each child wears the name of one Native American child who, had it not been for wars, exterminations, disease, relocation, and the host of tools that were used to systematically remove the original people from this land, may have lived a full and prosperous life. The kids write mini-biographies imagining what this young person’s life might have been like had they been given the chance to grow up and thrive. Each of these stories is placed in the Museum of Native American History in Washington DC, creating a sense of all the people and potential that was lost.

Oh and the best part, after years of dreading the entire month of November in school, Native kids don’t have to attend the activities for that day. The country finally recognized that the people who bear the effects of oppression don’t have to bear witness, hold hands or educate those who have enjoyed the benefits of their loss. Native American families are able to spend the day together, creating their own rituals, honoring relatives, and making plans for a successful future together.

Airports

2008-11-26T09:18:00.000-08:00

Guest Blogger: Pardeep

Hey peeps. I am LOVING the new America! It’s made airplane travel sooooo much easier. Flying used to be easy for me but then 9/11 and all. Shout-out to you Jamal, I know you didn’t have it easy before the whole terrorism thing. But since then, I have had to get to airports an extra hour or two early to allow for extra search and possible interrogation. Every time I fly to Ohio for a family gathering I get asked “where are you really going?” Then my ticket is flagged for “special search” which can take an unpredictable amount of time depending on how many times I have to re-wrap my turban. Then I end up having to be manually scanned by some guy with a baseball bat shaped wand because I can’t take off my Kara and they never believe that it’s not some kind of weapon (I don’t know how to kill someone with a bracelet, do you?). I don’t even want to talk about what they do with my beard. A few times I rented a car instead, it was actually faster (and less humiliating) than flying.

But NOW….I sail right through! In fact, last time I flew the TSA looked at my boarding pass, called me by name, with a Mr. in front of it, cautioned me to stay warm because Ohio is having a rough winter, and waved me through when my bracelet set off the metal detector. “No worries,” said the attendant, “have a good visit with your family. Make sure you come back though, we’d miss you if you were gone for too long.”

Names

2008-11-26T09:01:00.000-08:00

I haven’t had to spell, repeat or re-pronounce my name to anyone in this new America. Apparently people know enough about each others’ racial groups that they have actually heard, spelled and used our names before.

My friends, Alasdair, Estanislao, Yael, Ngugi, and Duqaq are reporting the same phenomenon.

“Diversity”

2008-11-25T14:33:00.000-08:00

"Diversity” has actually come to mean, well, what it means. It no longer is used to describe having one or two people of color in the room, or to not having any people of color in the room but counting diversity as the one dude with a "funny name."

In this new America, “diversity” means having a truly broad range of identities intrinsically involved in the process, decision making and face of any group, company, corporation or organized entity. Companies, schools and organizations are actually taking note of the entire range of people they have on their staff, in their classrooms, etc. They also seem to realize that creating a truly diverse environment is not about being “politically correct” (a term I haven’t heard used once in this new America) but rather that it increases the experience for all involved on an intellectual, emotional and strategic level.

Now, when people say "we value diversity” they don’t just mean that on page 146 of their human resource book it says "we value diversity," but that they actually put the words into action. People are actually chiding themselves for missing one or another group, or for having “only” one person of a certain race. I haven’t heard anyone call someone “less qualified” or complain about how their uncle got passed over for a job because of a company's diversity policy. Instead they say "there are plenty of jobs to go around," and talk about how much their uncle loves his new job working with all of his fellow countrymen. People even recognize that people of color bring more than “a different perspective” to the workplace but that we bring actual knowledge, information, education, and skills.

This might be my favorite part of post-race America. If one more person referred to me as a “diverse individual” I was going to vomit. That's not even grammatically correct.

White People with Dreadlocks

2008-11-25T14:20:00.000-08:00

Gone.

Hallelujah.

Gentrification

2008-11-25T12:07:00.001-08:00

Guest Blogger: Becky

Hey guys! I am really loving this post-race world. it. It’s been so much fun to live in a country where all people are valued as equal and one doesn’t have to be put down in order for another to rise up. Whew. All that “I’m richer, more connected, and treated better than you," was getting really boring.

Speaking of, I’m selling my house. You know, the one I bought in the poor neighborhood five years ago that has double in value? Remember? They just built a Starbucks on the corner next to it. Do you know anyone who wants to live here? According to the new gentrification guidelines, half of the sales profit will be invested back in this community which allowed me to own property, pay lower prices on day to day expenses and grow my wealth over the last five years. The money will help to pay the property taxes on the houses to the left and to the right of me so that the owners can afford to stay. I hear that future buyers will share the property taxes of their neighbors so as to prevent the overall driving out of poor (and often people of color) who already live there. Makes sense to me!

Holidays

2008-11-25T09:37:00.000-08:00

The new America has way more holidays, and way more fun!

Instead of everyone in the country being forced to take off Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving, workers and students are now allowed to take 10 personal cultural holidays per year. This can be applied to whenever their holidays fall without any penalty, pleading or paperwork. This gives flexibility to holidays whose dates change every year because they don’t subscribe to the Gregorian calendar. At schools, instead of the absent kid coming back and having to explain where he was the day before, he now hears “happy holiday!” on his return, because teachers take fifteen minutes to explain to their classes the special reason that Jacob or Jagdish is out of school for the day. The same happens in the workplace. Offices have taken to the practice with great enthusiasm, except they tend to celebrate the holiday a day early so they can surprise the person with cake at the staff meeting. Offices love any reason to surprise people with cake (or flan, gulab jamun or the occasional gifelte fish). Happy Diwali everyone!

War

2008-11-24T22:24:00.003-08:00

War has pretty much subsided in a post-racism world. It became too hard to convince soldiers to kill people that they actually think of as human beings. Even countries engaged in civil wars started to see the humanity in the people they called their enemies. With the new found respect among people of different groups, negotiations started to erupt spontaneously on battlefields.

Here’s a typical scene that caused the Army, Navy and Air Force to give up on training men for aggression altogether.

“Shoot the rag-head!” Yelled the commanding officer, who had called in sick to the post-racism re-education training.

“What head? Oh, Rag head, that's not funny.” Said the soldier, distractedly setting down his rifle as he calmly walked over and kneeled by the side of his CO. “No no, sir, those are called turbans. People wear them for cultural and religious traditions. Actually they can be quite effective in keeping your head cool in the hot sun. It’s not a reason to shoot anyone. Why don’t we sit down over a shawarma and see exactly what he wants. Then we’ll just tell him what we need and take it from there.”

With war eradicated, the government still wanted to create opportunities for young people to serve their country and be given something in return. The new GI bill (which now stands for Growth and Investment) sets its sights on tackling issues like global poverty and environmental crises. It still brings young men and women face to face with the toughest parts of the world, but without the loss of limbs and psychological trauma that had derailed the program in the past. Instead of ending up on disability and life-long therapy, these new “soldiers” returned home ready to open new business addressing the economic and environmental dilemmas they had learned about in the field. The GI bill provides the returning soldiers with small business grants (not loans) to start up projects that enhance the overall economic picture for the country or for the world.

Without the hatred that fueled the actions of war, all that was left to do was to address the root causes. The Marines, who would not let go of their status as “first on the scene” took up mediation training. Recognizing that most wars are fought over control of natural resources and economic power, the Marines started programs to bring the heads of major corporations sitting together at a mediation table. It turns out that the Marines are exactly the right people to serve as mediators because they are the only ones who can intimidate the heads of corporations enough to get them to follow the rules. So far the program has had a great deal of success. OPEC has agreed to lift restrictions on production, and instead ration out a portion of oil long enough to carry us through the current gas crisis and into the hands of new technologies. This was decided by a coalition of CEOs from the auto industry, health care industry, oil producing nations, and organic farmers. Dick Cheney ended up taking the lead on bridge building between the United States and the middle east and finally came out in the open and married the Arab mistress he’d been keeping all these years.

Drug Sentencing

2008-11-24T22:23:00.007-08:00

click image to enlarge

American Idol

2008-11-24T15:57:00.001-08:00

Well here is one thing that has not changed since the end of racism. I finally found something on television that I could recognize from before. American Idol. It still has it’s little “piece of America” panel of judges (including an immigrant, even). It has contestants from all walks of life, black, white, Asian, Latino, short, tall, fat, ugly, beautiful, smart, dumb as bricks, talented and severely untalented. And people still rush to vote for the candidate they support the most. It's hard to believe that our vision for the country was right there in front of us all along.

Oh Idol. I can’t wait to see the audition shows for the new season.

Gangsta Rap

2008-11-24T15:27:00.001-08:00

Speaking of people in need of work, the gangsta rappers are all out of a job. They spent so much time and energy trying to create this rough-neck image of black life and now no one believes a darn thing they have to say. I heard it went down systematically. They took a few of them and stuck them back in elementary school, not to be role models but to learn. When they experienced the new curriculum and saw all the amazing things that black people could be they decided they wanted to do better things with their lives then fake-shoot people up (or real shoot people up for no reason) and rap about it.

I heard that Snoop Dogg went back to using his real name and started a foundation with Ice-T to help women get out of prostitution. Suge Knight spontaneously combusted (which I hear is what happens when the devil reclaims your soul) and 50 Cent is working with the grey panthers to organize senior citizen neighborhood watch groups. P. Diddy (who I guess wasn’t ever that convincing of a gangsta) is pretty much the same, except I hear he used his reparations check to finally take some acting lessons. Oh and of course, Tupac finally came out of hiding. Told ya.

White Power

2008-11-24T15:18:00.001-08:00

With all the changes, I had to check on the White Power groups. I couldn’t imagine what they were up to now. Twiddling their thumbs? Did they move to a new country? Have they switched focus to the anti-kitty-cat league? Naw, I knew that wasn’t going to be the case, those dudes love cats. No, seriously, those dudes love cats.

It was hard to find them. They are all living in seclusion and very suspicious of anyone who asks about them, especially if that person is black, Jewish, Mexican, or anything other than their cousin, really. I guess they’ve been getting attacked a bit from people who are angry for they way they’ve treated non-white folks over the years. What I found out that did surprise me is that they are also being inundated by white people who want to rehabilitate them. I guess there is some kind of program that pays rewards for people who lead to the capture of WP folks, since now they are officially listed as a terrorist organization.

As far as I could track down those that are not in prison seem to be focused on doing “good works” like adopting highways and cleaning streets to convince people that they were still useful. I’m told that they were allowed to keep their group names so that we can identify them and never forget the history that we overcame and have to keep in the past.

The US Senate

2008-11-24T11:43:00.000-08:00

I finally took a break from BHC (the Black History Channel) and cruised through the stations to see what else had changed. I didn’t get very far because I stopped on CSPAN. There was this vaguely familiar looking set, I mean it must have been a set because it could not be real, that looked like the US Senate. I immediately recognized the scene as government, but not as my government. I paused the remote and thought, “Hey, cool, whose government is that?”

And then the person serving as chair said “I will now recognize the Senator from Washington, DC.” What? I hit my TiVo record button. No way, I thought. No f-ing way! They finally gave DC a senator. DC, a city that is 65% black and drives around with license plates that say “taxation without representation?” You remember, my ex-girlfriend is from DC and complained about that all the time. I nearly called her up but then thought that was kind of like drunk-dialing, except it would be more like…shock-dialing, post-racism shock dialing. I’m sure we’ll start hearing more about it PRSD Post Racism Shock Disorder. People wandering the streets just hoping that a white person will be intimidated or afraid of them, people quitting their jobs for no other reason than they were used to being fired on a regular basis, people sending themselves mean emails about how they shouldn’t have gotten this job or into that school and how affirmative action is illegal. Hey, speaking of… what happened to affirmative action?

Anyway, back to CSPAN.
The senate was like Jesse Jackson’s rainbow coalition. From what I could count on pause and slo-mo, There were twenty black senators, 2-0!, There were also twenty Latino senators, Six Asian American senators, and three Native American Senators. I think I picked out one or two native Hawaiians and a few people of color that I could not tell what race they were. Looked like America to me!

I was so excited, that did actually call my ex-girlfriend. She hung up on me. I guess Obama can’t fix everything.

Shopping

2008-11-24T11:08:00.000-08:00

Once Kamesha and I got to the stores. I definitely felt like I had entered the Emerald City. First, people looked me in the eye instead of up and down. No one asked me what I was doing there. No one followed us around the store. Let me repeat that, no one followed us around in the store (you know, to see if we were going to steal something.) One girl brought us tea…tea! The sales people walked up to my sister and asked her how her day was. Not “eh-hem, can I help you?” My sister, who was totally oblivious due to being blinded by sparkly objects told the lady that she was looking for a cocktail dress for an upcoming gala. The sales person actually believed her! (I mean it was true, but still.) Continuing to shock me, the sales lady even paid attention to my sister while she was describing what she was looking for in a dress instead of looking past her at the white customers figuring they will spend more money. The sales people also showed us a few dresses and when we said we didn’t want to pay that much for a dress she responded “yeah, I think it’s a bit on the pricy side too.” Usually when I say I don’t want to pay $1600 for a dress, I get scoffed at and then shown either to the door or to the clearance rack. Instead she took us to a special room in the back where they keep a stash of the best-quality best-priced garments for their favorite customers.

“This is where we keep the special finds that we don’t want just anyone to get.”

There was a room full of lovely clothes. My sister did all she could to restrain herself as she picked out three items that she was interested in.

“Great, would you like to try them or would you like me to have Michelle put them on for you? She’s built about the same and has a similar skin color so you can see how the dress hangs without having to bother yourself with getting undressed.”

My sister agreed, and we both looked at each other because we’ve heard the phrase “similar skin color” before. We had no idea who was going to come out of the dressing room.

Sure enough, here comes Michelle. She is the same height, weight and yes, skin color as my sister. As she comes out of the dressing room, a few other women come into the back room, who I gather are fit models as well. It seemed like they had a stand-in for every type of customer who could arrive. I wondered how this was financially possible, but I suppose in this new America, investing in diversity really does pay off.

My sister picked out a darling little sequined red dress for just under $800, half of what we were shown in the first showroom.

“No wonder white people have held onto their money for so many years.” My sister said as we left the store with her dress wrapped and boxed and tied with a silver bow. My sister had once bought a Gucci purse but hung it on the door of her condo incase she had to take it back so that she could pay her mortgage. “I won’t even have to return this dress next week.”

Street Names

2008-11-24T09:47:00.001-08:00

My sister came to visit, and you know what a queen diva she is, so she insisted that I take her shopping in the ritziest part of town. I’ve never actually been to the ritziest part of town, so I told her to look up the stores she wanted to go to on Google Maps. When she arrived she had a list of stores she wanted to shop at, Tiffany, Coach, BeBe, Saks, and a host of other small high-end boutiques.

“It looks like most of these are all on the same street, one long strip of shopping delight!” My sister said with an ear to ear grin on her face as she peered at my computer while simultaneously fastening her diamond tennis bracelet.

“Okay,” I said, with a deep sigh as I plowed through my closet to find something that my sister would deem appropriate to wear to such places. “How do we get there?”

“Well, from what it seems like on the map, Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd. goes right to that area of town.”

“That’s funny Kamesha, try again.”

“No, I’m not kidding. Look at the map. MLK Blvd. goes right there.”

“You are just being foolish.” I pushed my sis aside and had a look at the map myself. Sure enough, there was MLK Blvd running through the entire city directly to the wealthy area of town. I followed it a bit further beyond the shopping district, to where the houses are and it was crossed by Rosa Parks Avenue and Cesar Chavez Way. I nearly fell off the couch.

“I told you,” Kamesha cooed. “See our people lead the way to exactly where I want to go. Let’s hit the stores!”

We hopped in the car and as I was driving I was amazed to see MLK Blvd. There was no trash, no ugly uplifting murals of people rising out of poverty that had been chipped and graffitied, Instead there were clean, well-kept bronze statues of each person the streets were named after. People of all shades were milling in and out of beautiful houses, fancy stores, and carrying bags filled with treasures. I felt like I was in the Emerald City.

Television

2008-11-24T09:16:00.001-08:00

Okay not to dwell on my TV watching habits, but wtf? I cannot tell one channel from the others now. What happened to all the shows that take place in NYC but have absolutely no people of color on them? I can’t find one show with an all-white cast. Where are all the Aunt Jemima stand-ins, you know the fat black women social workers? Where is the Pine-Sol lady? All the Indian 7-11 store owners are gone too. Law and Order went an entire two weeks (which you know means about ten episodes) with out one gangsta rapper in the plot. There are no stories about terrorism or honor killing, and I haven’t heard one fake urban, Asian or Arab accent in, gosh, I can’t even remember what they sound like. Give me a crack whore…something. Good grief. It’s downright disturbing. I’ve been watching this one show for nearly a month and a half and they haven’t even broken up the interracial couple. This has to be a record.

Reparations

2008-11-24T09:14:00.000-08:00

Tamika, check your mail!

Seriously.

I got this check in the mail for, well, I can't even type how much, it's just too overwhelming. It looked like it came from the federal government, because it looked like the tax refund check I got that one time. I hadn't seen a check like this for a while so I was skeptical. I thought maybe it was an internet scam. I looked more closely at the check and it read "Department of Truth and Reconciliation.” Of course I thought to myself this cannot be right, when has our country ever been concerned with truth or reconciliation? So I called the 800 number on the check. Sure enough, someone answers the phone in a cheery sing-song voice.

“Hello, Department of Truth and Reconciliation. What can we make right for you today?”

“Um, I got this check in the mail…” I said, cautiously.

“That’s wonderful! We love hearing from recipients of our programs. Are you Native American, African American, or Iraqi?” She asks as if each one of those categories holds some kind of prize, like a game show host asking me if I want what’s behind door number one, two or three.

“African American.” I say worried that maybe that means that I have to give the money back.

“Great! I am very sorry for the delay it’s taken our country to repay your ancestors for all the work they did to build up the economic structure of this nation. Without them we really would never be the country we are today.”

“Okay, wait…what?”

“Did you have any questions about cashing the check?”

“No, I mean…I can cash it?”

“Yes of course, this one won’t bounce. Now, do you have any unpaid student loans?”

“Um, yeah, about $65,000 worth.”

“Wow, school sure has gotten expensive over the last several years, hasn’t it? Well I will send you the forms for you to fill out to have those loans repaid. It’s the least we can do for keeping you all out of the good schools for so long. What is your mailing address?”

“Uh…” I mumbled my mailing address to the happy lady. I was in a bit of a daze at this point. That got quickly broken by her next question.

“Now, pardon me for being so forward in asking, but do you have any relatives in jail?”

I paused. This is not my favorite question.

“Yeah, my uncle Charles.”

“Did Charles commit a non-violent crime?”

“Yeah, he was accused of robbing a convenience store, but no one could ever really prove…”

“Well bless his heart,” She interrupted my knee-jerk justification for the shame of having a family member in jail.

“Well, you let him know that our plan for releasing non-violent offenders, particularly those who committed economic driven crimes is well underway. We should have him out in about a month. Get your guest room ready!”

“Wha…?” I was so stunned I could barely eek out more than a grunt.

“Now, one last question, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, Lord knows we’ve taken enough from you already.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have any children or family members under the age of 18?”

“Yes, I do,” again, my worry kicks in, figuring that like Social Security the government is going to foist this burden on the younger generation, and it will turn out that my kids end up paying for the crimes of this country instead of those whose ancestors committed them.

“Great!” She is so enthusiastic about all of this. “You can give me their addresses, or have them contact me or visit our office. They’ll want to fill out paperwork so that they can have their college education paid for in full. We’re sorry to say though, that we can only cover the first four years, graduate degrees go through a different department.”

"Um, o...kay. I'll tell them."

“Okay almost done with the interrogation…aw geez, sorry I didn’t mean to say something offensive. That silly little joke can be a real stinger for our Iraqi callers. Don't worry I am going to log that in the fine book, and pay up for that one. I’m still working on this spontaneous mouth of mine. But anyhoo, where was I? Oh, yes, did you want to participate in our ‘Talking Reparations’ program? If you do, I’ll pair you up with a white person who will offer you a complete and total, informed apology for the decades of white privilege and racial hierarchy that followed the enslavement of your ancestors. The program is experimental but so far, with our re-education program, us white people are doing a pretty good job.”

“Uh…no, no thanks. Well, could you send me some information about that In case I want to join later?”

Absolutely, you just take your time, we’ll be here!”

“Lastly, let me get your social security number as well, we’re going to exempt you from paying the reparations tax. We surely don’t want you footing the bill for your own apology!”

BHC

2008-11-24T08:13:00.000-08:00

Yeah, BET is gone. It's been replaced by BHC the Black History Channel. I'm kind of addicted to it. I've had it on for the last few days non-stop. Facts and the truth are just so darn mesmerizing.

BET

2008-11-23T21:45:00.000-08:00

I cannot find BET. I am not kidding. Where did it go?

Paranoia

2008-11-23T16:27:00.001-08:00

My paranoia seems to have subsided considerably. I'm not entirely convinced yet that the white people are *not* out to get me but something does feel different. People are making eye contact. Yesterday a woman was mugged and the police stopped me just to ask if I saw the guy who did it. Then they took off in hot pursuit- of someone that was not me. No one has called me "bro" for at least a week. I'm not being followed when I go shopping in upscale stores. When I'm in low-scale stores, people don't ask me if I work there. I've even been asked my opinion on non-black related things. No one has offered me watermelon and I've been to at least three barbecues lately. At one of them friends and I were talking about cooking and someone actually asked me if I knew hot to make manocotti, not collard greens, sweet potato pie, short ribs or pigs feet, but manocotti. Surreal. It seems like people are opening doors for me. Oh and actually was able to hail a cab...a CAB!

Plus, that strange clicking noise isn't on my phone anymore. I wonder if this means I can go back to drinking the water?

Black History Month

2008-11-23T15:26:00.000-08:00

I called the principal my niece's school last week because Black History Month is coming around the corner and I always help the school prepare the things they need. They usually have something like African dance, soul food, read Native Son or part of the I Have a Dream speech, which they haven't done recently since they do that in January now.

I got a call back with a message saying that they wouldn't be needing my help this year.
I got straight on the phone and called him back.

The principal was excited to take my call. He called me Ms. which he hadn't done before. I figured he was going to deliver some bad news. Instead he says, "Actually we're all set. We do lots of things all throughout the year. Last week we had a slide show on Black inventors. Next week the kids will do readings from great black authors. The week after we stage a fun "black Oscars" celebration of the great black stage and film performers, you know the type of things- just regular school stuff. Oh and in April we're going to have a black surgeon come in and walk us through the first open heart surgery as performed by Dr. Daniel Hale Williams."

April?
What the hell is he talking about?

"We find that our students emerge better citizens, more informed, more engaged, and with a generally positive attitude about each other when they learn the history of the United States. History is so important, especially in our unique country. But then again, the federal government does have its regulations....but we'd still teach this way even if we weren't following the rules."

I was still stuck on April.
Wait, what did he say about Federal regulations?

"So as much as I'd love your help, all the volunteer spots are already filled by white parents. They volunteer year-round to teach their favorite cross cultural topics. You should see the Asian American history committee! There's 21 people on that one. We have ample school budget to pay the teachers to do this work, but the parents just can't stay away."

Immigration

2008-11-23T15:16:00.000-08:00

Guest Blogger: Juan Carlos

Tamika and Jamal,

You would NOT believe who showed up at my house yesterday! My aunt and uncle! Yeah, that's right. You know how surprised I am because they got deported eight months ago. I didn't think I would ever see them again. I'm afraid if I go visit anyone in Mexico, I'll not be let back into the country, even though I was born here.

So I poured them a café con leché and waited to hear their harrowing story. I wanted to know how they survived the desert, the citizen militias and what tiny apartment they were living in with dozens of other workers so I could bring them some food. They told me a story so incredible, I still can't believe that it's true.

They said that they were sitting at home one day when a knock came at the door. When then answered it was an immigration officer from the United States. They were scared out of their mind. They had already been deported and could not imagine what more could be done to them to punish them for illegally coming to the United States. They cautiously invited the officer in, fearing that if they turned him away, more would follow. The officer sat down and pulled out an envelope. He handed it to them. In it was a letter of appreciation and apology from the US government, thanking them for contributing to the economy and apologizing for terminating their employment prematurely. Also in the envelope were two new US passports, one for each of them.

They were in shock.

The officer left and my aunt and uncle still did not think they should attempt to cross the border. They knew that there were a lot of angry citizen and militia groups stretched across the border that would probably think that they had forged their passports and violently force them back into Mexico, or worse. They decided to investigate. When they arrived at the US Mexico border, traffic was moving smoothly, there was no congestion. This is shocking as usually there are long lines due to long intense searches of nearly every vehicle that goes across. They asked the border attendant what had happened.

"Hi folks, how can I help you today? Are you headed north?" The oddly cheery officer said.

Shocked, they nodded a silent yes, knowing that saying less is usually safer.

"Great, let me show you the way." He waved his arm across a horizon of roads like Vanna White unveiling the puzzle on Wheel of Fortune. "We've got several new roads built by the Minute Men, that will make it easier for your trip. Some of them are even pretty scenic. Would you like a guide for your journey?"

Dumbfounded, they nodded another silent yes, this time more out of curiosity than fear. In about thirty seconds a man wearing a shirt that read "Minute Man" In giant red white and blue lettering showed up with a big smile, a basket of fruit and two water bottles filled to the brim.

"You got here fast." my uncle finally spoke.

"That's why they call us Minute Men!" Said the cheery white man, pointing to his shirt with pride. "You folks headed up to the states for a good job so you can send some money back here to home? That's just great. It's so wonderful to see people supporting their strong and growing family. With enough work, hopefully we'll get Mexico to a place of prosperity and comfort just like we have in the US. So happy to help you get that process started. I'm gonna drive in my jeep just ahead of you, so you two can have some privacy, but if you need anything just honk. We'll be there in no time."

The man gave their car a confident two-pats on the hood. He walked to his jeep, reached in and pulled out a magnetic sign that he slapped on the side of his car. It read "Immigration Escort." He jumped into his jeep. He looked back at the two of them and waved to make sure they were ready to go. My aunt and uncle waived back and he started off toward the states.

When they got to the states they went back to see if they could pick up their old below-minimum-wage jobs. The company was thrilled to hire them, but this time at minimum wage, which they were told is now $12 an hour. Then they took them to a hotel for temoprary housing which they are allowed to stay in for two weeks until they find a good place to live. Not just a place to live a *good* place to live. Their company makes sure that each of their employees are living in comfortable housing so that they are focused and productive at work. After a day at work, the workers at the plant invited them to join the union, and now with the added pull of all the new immigrants, the union has negotiated for improved wages, vacation and health benefits.

"You want to go eat dinner, mijo?" My aunt said happily, "Our treat."

"Sure!" I was thrilled, my relatives had never had enough money to take us out before. "What kind of food should we have" I asked, "we've got the world to choose from you know."

"I'm in the mood for American." my uncle chimes in.

"Me too." My aunt smiled at him with a light in her eye that I haven't seen since they first got engaged.

FEMA Trailers

2008-11-23T15:07:00.000-08:00

I called my cousin in New Orleans yesterday to see how this new America was treating her and she told me that the government showed up yesterday and took away all the FEMA trailers! I know! I thought the same thing- the government is just trying to slowly kill those folks in NoLo. It's painful to watch. It's been how many years since Hurricane Katrina, and still people are living in shacks and catching unnamed bacteria from all the mold and disease floating around there. I was about to go off! But then before I could start my rant, my cousin stopped me.

"No, no, Jamal, it's not like that any more. Don't you know they came down here with a slew of help and National Guard and volunteers, and Americorps and the Peace Corps even came home for a few days and now we have beautiful new houses to live in. And we OWN them! Yep, they gave us the deeds and affordable mortgages too. Oh, and puppies! I am not kidding, everyone who got a new house, and that was...everyone, was given a dog to bring instant life to the new place.

You have to come visit! Come for a dip in the pool! They also built a new school and outfitted it with the latest books and technology. Then they brought teachers from the best districts in the country to teach the kids. The place has really taken a turn for the real."

"What did they do with all the moldy gross FEMA trailers, where are they taking them next?" I asked thinking about the next community of color to be dumped on or penned up in the mobile death traps.

I heard they recycled them." She said. "Guess they're going to be shopping bags now."

Dating

2008-11-21T15:50:00.000-08:00

Dating is so much better in post-race America. Wow, this might take a few entries. So, I got set up with this white dude who is a friend of someone I work with. I didn't want to go out with him, as my track record with white guys is kinda ugly. We do pretty good until he decides to nickname me "cocoa" or talk about my caramel coated skin. I mean, I guess it's nice to be thought of as delicious, but really, I'm not food. That's just usually the start of it.

But I went out on this date, why not give things a chance, I figure if a black man can be elected to President of the United States, anything can happen.

"So am I you first black girl you've dated?" I figure I just cut to the chase.
"No, that's silly. What would make you think that?"
"Okay, the second?"
"Actually my first girlfriend was South Asian, then I dated two white women and three African American women. After a few years off, you know not taking anyone seriously, I dated a Native American woman who was older than me and that's why it didn't work out. I still wasn't ready for that kind of commitment, which she really wanted. I tried, but had to admit that I wasn't mature enough at that time in my life. My last girlfriend was Korean but that was long distance, and that was too hard. I just wanted to be close enough to hug her every day. Her parents loved me though. My ex-fiance, (I finally did become mature enough) was Mexican. I think I'm not forgetting anyone...oh, wait, Sue was also black. But I often try to forget her....psycho...."

I pinched myself under the table and ordered another drink.

Getting a Job

2008-11-21T15:27:00.001-08:00

The first thing I noticed is that getting a job is so much easier in the new America. I had a job interview today. Good thing it got scheduled for after the election.

I walked in and they showed me right to the office. No one asked me if I was in the right place, or if I was there to fix the copy machine. "You must be here for the interview, said the older white secretary who sat at the front desk. She showed me to a comfortable lounge full of couches where I read Fortune Magazine's article on the top 10 executives of the country. Six of them were people of color! She took my coat and brought me a cup of coffee. During the interview, one of the members of the interview team started to write my name down on the top of their notepad. I leaned in and began to spell it for him. He stopped me and said, "Oh, silly, of course I can spell your name! My son-in-law's name is Jamal."

They job search was supposed to last another two weeks but by the time I got home I had a message telling me I was hired.

"I know we said we wouldn't be calling for a while," the message said, "But we couldn't stand to see you go. You just seemed to be 'one of us', you know? It felt like you were already one of the family."

The day after, part 2.

2008-11-20T22:05:00.000-08:00

I hear you Jamal, and I saw a lot of that same tired look on white folks faces. Damn. Electing a black man took a lot of work huh? I mean it took us forty years longer to do that than to put a man on the moon, so sheez, I bet they are tired. Lord knows, I am. But yeah, I noticed that the white people I passed by seemed kind of lost. I mean for the last twenty months white people had a reason to talk to me- I mean, they had a conversation starter. You know "I am so excited that we might actually elect an African American to the office of President." or "Isn't Barack Obama great? I bet you never thought you'd see someone with a name as unique as yours in the White House." This would precipitate a conversation about my name, or how their biracial nephew admires Obama, or how they admire Michelle, you know.

But now, they didn't know what to say. A few people tried to start up convos with. "Isn't it great?" But when I responded "Yeah, It's pretty great." the conversation just kind of trailed off. A few times, I tried to stir things up with "What? Isn't what great? Did something happen and I missed it?" Which seemed to provoke stares of confusion as they walked cautiously away from me. A couple of times they would find another white person and whisper to them as they pointed back at me. One would shrug their shoulders and the other would put their arm around them and whisk them off to a happier, less confusing place.

Tamika

The day after.

2008-11-20T21:58:00.000-08:00

The first thing that I noticed in the post-Obama world was that white people were worn out. I mean they looked tired. Maybe it was from all the drinking and celebrating the night before, or from all the phone banking, but man, people looked wrecked the day after the election.

I, myself, got a hella good nights sleep, and woke up feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the world. Except I didn't have to! The world was tackled for me the night before. What a relief.

Anyway, I walked down the street on the way to work and white people were smiling at me from across the street. In fact, for the first time in my life white people actually crossed the street to walk on the *same* side of the street as me instead of crossing to the opposite side. It kind of scared me at first, but then they would give me a tired smile and point at their worn out "I voted" sticker that they had torn off the shirt that they wore the day before. It seemed like that was about all the energy they could muster. I smiled back. Once or twice I heard myself say "good job."

Jamal