Is Justice Really Served?

As many of you may know I'm originally from New York. New York has shown to be a culturally diverse area. However, I still find that many people are against this "diversity." On August 9th 2006, in Miller Place Long Island, my neighbor Aaron White ( a black male) attended a party, which he was not invited to. He got kicked out of the party and went home. Later that night a group of the white males came to Aaron White's house and threatened him. They first started harassing by text message, instant message, and by calling him on his cell phone.

However, the night didn't end there. The group of angry teenagers then decided to go to Aaron's house. The ring leader, Daniel Cicciaro Jr. ( a white male), and his friends went in Aaron's driveway yelling loud racial remarks.Frightened, Aaron called his father John White and explained to him what was going on. John and Aaron White went outside with two hunting guns to scare the angry mob away. While outside John White held his gun in the direction of the young men. Daniel Cicciaro then grabbed hold of the gun and it fired. Daniel Cicciaro got shot in the face and died soon after.

Many have their views on the situation. However, the jury had their own opinion, the hearing was just a few days before Christmas. They found Mr. White guilty on a manslaughter charge and a weapons charge which can run from 5 to 15 years. But, on the 24th of December 2 jurors came out and said that they were pressured into saying that Mr. White was guilty. They both said that they felt pressure from the judge and the other jurors. Rev. Al Sharpton is planning a march in New York in January, in honor of Mr. White's injustice.

It is hard to put my personal feelings aside, but I truly feel John White should be a free man. If Mr. White was Caucasian and Cicciaro was black, would this be the same outcome?

Alicia Gaynor
Secretary
UCABJ

The Wire's newspaper angle

At best, I'm a very casual viewer of The Wire so I can't tell you much about the intricacies of the last four seasons, but based on the role a fictional Baltimore Sun newsroom plays in the upcoming season, I may have to start getting HBO.

David Simon, the show's creator, used to work for The Baltimore Sun and uses that knowledge to examine the role of the newspaper in Baltimore's deterioration in the fifth and final season. Overly ambitious reporters, steadfast editors, bean-counting parent companies...it's all there. (Click on "The Wire: The Last Word" in the right-hand column.) It's an interesting proposition Simon is putting forth and despite this being Hollywood's version of news life—insert grain of salt here—it's probably not that far off from the realities the industry is facing right now. It'll be interesting to see how the season unfolds and what the fictional storyline may offer to people putting out fires in real newsrooms across the country.

adl

Aiesha D. Little
NABJ Adviser
University of Cincinnati Association of Black Journalists

Cheering for the Home Team

In high school I always felt uncomfortable and awkward at pep rallies. It was hard for me to understand the point of all the screaming and pageantry. I rarely attended sporting events and I don’t recall ever caring very much who won.

I was part of a band program that took music very seriously and we competed from time to time. I practiced hard and I wanted us to sound good, but I still wasn’t exactly loosing sleep about how the band scored. When I went to Wright State it was even worse. Almost nothing that happened in Dayton seemed all that important to me.

I have lived in the Southern Ohio for about 15 years, but I couldn’t tell you right now how many games the Bengals have won this season and I know even less about how the Reds are doing. I have never had a whole lot of “team spirit.”

I’m not saying I hated everyone around me (at least, not until exam week came around). I was genuinely invested in the good fortunes of all of the people I had direct connections to. But when it came to awards and competitions and bragging rights, I guess I never really felt like a part of “the team.”

If this were a therapy session, I guess I would have to talk about what I’m really feeling and how my aloof attitude is really a way to make up for my own insecurities. There would probably be tears and breakthroughs and Stuart Smalley affirmations about how “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.” But while there's no shame in getting help from mental health professionals, this is not a therapy session.

I only say all of this so that you understand my surprise when I found myself watching Clash of the Choirs this week on NBC. I may have taken a bathroom break while Michael Bolton’s choir performed, but I didn’t want to miss a second of Nick Lachey’s team from Cincinnati. They were my team.

Something was different – something I can’t explain. I actually cared who won. For once, I was cheering for the home team. I was also cheering for Children’s Hospital, which would get the prize money if they won. (I spent a few days there a while back when I had back surgery and I have a lot of respect for the people there.)

For me, it was surreal being so invested in what, in a lot of ways, was really a pretty arbitrary competition. I was biting my nails (figuratively) when they announced who would be eliminated. I felt proud when they won even though I had almost nothing to do with their success.

I am not, nor have I ever been, a big fan of 98° or Nick Lachey. (I’ve met Justin Jeffre, though. I like him a lot.) I didn’t know anyone who performed. But a lot of things have changed over the past year, and somehow I think it’s made me feel like a part of this city. Who knew?

I could get used to this.

Go Team Cincinnati! We’re… uh…. number one! That's how it goes, right?

~Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

I enjoy political cartoons and that’s how I first came across Ted Rall. Rall is a left-leaning political cartoonist, author, and syndicated columnist.

A lot of the time his cartoon is not quite my cup of tea. It isn’t so much that I disagree with him (though I do disagree with him on some points), but more because it just doesn’t make me laugh. The weird drawings and mean spirited attitude is a little over the top for me.

But I think his columns are excellent. After reading a series he just finished called “Future Imperfect,” I feel particularly ashamed that I don’t think I’ve ever really paid to read them.

The columns were about the direction the field of journalism is moving in and discusses things like the financial havoc Al Gore caused when he invented the internet. (If you didn’t see the joke there, either I really stink at comedy or you never watched late night TV in 2004.)

Part I, Part II, and Part III were enthralling, and sometimes disturbing, columns. I thought I would highlight some interesting portions.

From Part I:

Print media is dragging content providers into the abyss. First comes downsizing. Writers, cartoonists, and photographers are losing their jobs to peers willing to do the work for less or, in the case of readers invited to submit their comments and images for the thrill of appearing in the local rag, nothing. Then they squeeze those who remain for pay cuts. A cartoon that runs today in Time, Newsweek, USA Today, The New York Times or The Washington Post--the most prestigious and widely disseminated forums in the United States--brings its creator less than The Village Voice would have paid for it in the 1980s. Some print venues offer no payment at all.

From Part II:

…Venture capitalists are investing in "consolidators," websites like the Drudge Report and Huffington Post that link to columns and articles written by unpaid bloggers and professionals who've managed to hold on to their jobs. Creative people who actually make the product they sell, meanwhile, are receiving squat.

It's inevitable that, sooner rather than later, these intellectual property vampires will suck creators dry. Professionals with mortgages and car payments will flee for greener pastures, replaced by hacks and rank amateurs happy to work for "exposure." We're already seeing the effect as journalism increasingly suffers deprofessionalization; 16-year-old bloggers with mad HTML skillz are demanding, and often receiving, equal access to readers.

…There is a solution to the online payment problem, says Simson Garfinkel, a fellow at the Harvard University Center for Research on Computation and Society and the author of "Database Nation: The Death of Privacy in the 21st Century." (Disclosure: We're friends.)

"If content is appropriately priced, of an appropriately high quality, and easy to access, people will pay for it," asserts Garfinkel. "What is required is a system that is easy to use and licensing terms that are not onerous."

From Part III:

…In 20 years, the U.S. newspaper landscape will look more like Europe and Japan. The market will be dominated by two major segments. At the top we'll find a small cluster, perhaps 10 or 15, of huge national titles--papers such as The New York Times and USA Today will get even bigger. Existing papers (The Washington Post?) will expand; new ones will launch.

…None of this will improve the quality of journalism. "Ultimately [free dailies] will breed in people the idea that news shouldn't cost anything, even that news is cheap," points out media commentator Roy Greenslade. "But in fact, news, done well and properly, requires investment and money. They will no doubt tell us what happened--but news should also tell us how and why things happen. I fear that approach will be lost."

~Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ

Busy Little Bees

After having to be at work or class or my internship or church or (some combination of those) every single day with very few breaks, I finally woke up this morning with no place in particular I had to be.

And as I picked myself up out of bed at about nine o’clock, I was struck by a strange feeling. I felt... guilty.

How could I not have a mountain of things to do? What was wrong with me? Am I becoming lazy? What if someone calls or emails or something? What would I tell them I was doing? Taking a “rest” sounded so wrong to me somehow.

But why should it? Rest is good. Rest is great. And as I look around, I think most of us could use more of it.

I am not saying we should drop everything and neglect our responsibilities. But I can’t shake the feeling that mainstream American culture is starting to work itself to death. We eat fast food in the car to save a few moments (when we eat at all). The 40-hour work week is now a distant memory. We work more hours than our counterparts just about every other developed economy in the world. I get the feeling most of us are in a constant race to prove to everyone else that we’re workaholics that are perpetually on a nasty occupational binge.

It’s part of the broader American disdain for balance. Either we are promiscuous or prudish, anorexic or overweight, teetotalers or drunkards. The idea of moderation seems quaint and alien to many of us. I bet even now as I write about “balance” some one out there is expecting me to start chanting about enlightenment or imploring others to unlearn what they have learned.

I can not speak for anyone else, but I find it hard to not get caught up in the excess myself. There’s more than a little bit of economic necessity attached to our busyness.

But vacation and weekends and holidays exist for a reason. We all need times off to think, to be with those we love, to remember who we are and why we are.

I still have to put in some hours as a retail grunt during the holiday season and I still plan on getting a few other things done during my days off. But do not be surprised if I become hard to reach before nine o’clock for a week or two. I’ll probably be sleeping in.

~Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ

The Difference Between Optimism and Hope

Apparently a lot of us are pessimistic about the state of black progress in America. The Pew Research Center, with help from NPR, recently conducted a poll that measured the political attitudes of African-Americans, whites and Latinos. The results were released in mid November.

According to the poll, 20% of blacks say they are better off now than they were five years ago and 29% say they are worse off. In 1969, 70% said they were better off than fives years before. In 1999, 32% said they were better off and 13% said they were worse off.

There was a lot of talk about this poll on NPR. I’ve read and heard plenty of people interpreting the data and critiquing aspects of the poll itself (like the way it excludes the very real concerns of Asian Americans). I’ve heard and read some very well thought out comments on this subject.

The more I heard, the more I took issue with one of the assumptions implied in some of the discussions. A lot of people talk about optimism as if it is a goal or a virtue – as if being optimistic is something to strive for and expect from others. Some commentators even use “hope” and “optimism” as synonyms.

I don’t see it that way. I’m all for hope, but hope is not the same as optimism.

Optimism is an outlook on life that interprets situations in a positive way and expects things to work out in the end. Marriam-Webster Online says it’s “an inclination to put the most favorable construction upon actions and events or to anticipate the best possible outcome.” The first definition listed drives my point home even better. It defines optimism as “a doctrine that this world is the best possible world.”

Optimism sounds nice, but I happen to think some elements of this world are unacceptable and better worlds are possible. There are a great many situations in which optimism requires someone to embrace the status quo, even when it may be harmful or unjust. Sometimes it even requires outright self-delusion. When confronted by death, disease, poverty, injustice, or desperation, a reasoning person has to detach themselves from reality to be optimistic.

That may help the comfortable stay that way, but it doesn’t do much to comfort the afflicted.

Sometimes things are bad. Really bad. When someone close to you dies, or your community gets washed away by a mountain of water, or your diagnosis is cancer, or you just feel desperately lonely and without meaning... at times like that expecting you to sing the sun will come out tomorrow is pretty cruel. It’s even worse when your troubles are cause by other people who are too hateful, greedy or ambivalent to treat you fairly.

But hope is “desire accompanied by expectation of or belief in fulfillment.” When optimism merely sees a silver lining to what may be a very dark cloud, hope can clear the sky. When optimism sees a cup as half full (and in real life things are almost never that equal), hope makes the cup overflow. Optimism can make a slave smile – hope smuggles slaves to freedom. Optimism says “it isn’t that bad.” Hope fuels movements and revolutions that make it better. Hope expects change.

Hope stares the desperate, terrible, frightening reality in the face and refuses to look away until it’s been defeated. Hope has a confrontational quality to it.

For some, things really are getting worse. We don’t need a rosy outlook – we need change. Not blame games. Not self-delusion. Not mindless distraction. Definitely not blind consumerism. The word of the day is change.

Things will get better for “black progress” in this country (and underdogs anywhere in the world) when we learn (or re-learn) how to hope.

So we're not optimistic. That might be a good place start. I’m almost positive.

~Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ

Where Do We Go From Here

So the play has gone forward, with the title changed and additions to the program made to “honor diversity.” Having seen the play and the relatively small changes that seem to have been made, I see it as a positive step. The play itself wasn’t necessarily racist, but the attitudes that lead to the debates are, and they, along with the censorship concerns, need to be discussed in the open.

West Chester/Liberty TWP needs to progress with an attitude of empathy and less finger pointing. As real as the problems are, most (but not all) of what’s going on is about the cultural and historical inertia of racism rather than overt hatred.

More has to be done to give Lakota’s administrators a chance to be partners rather than opponents as everyone works to create an atmosphere that’s truly diverse and multicultural. It’s unfair to everyone that efforts in that direction are hindered by the way they are being demonized and I can understand the discomfort of teachers and principles.

But is their discomfort any less than that of black, Asian, Hispanic, and Indian students that never see authority figures in their school that look like them? Is the faculty’s discomfort less than those who have cultural and ethnic histories that are frequently seen as problems to be assimilated rather than blessings to contribute?

Are they more uncomfortable than the black student that goes through weeks of awkward stares and anxious discussions while the class reads Huck Finn out loud? Or the broke student that bites her tongue while teachers go on 15 minute tirades about how the upper-middle class white kids – the ones who drive new convertibles their parents bought for them – deserve all the scholarships? Or the Hispanic student who has to explain to his friends that speaking Spanish with his family doesn’t mean they're "illegals" hiding from INS? Or the Asian student who faces unfairly high expectations and whose achievements are unappreciated because she's “supposed” to excel academically? Or the black student who’s repeatedly petted like a dog by classmates he hardly knows because they think the texture of his hair is so novel?

Wow. Now that I think about it, I feel so sorry for the poor, unfortunate white teachers and principles that are forced to think about how a minority student might feel. No one else ever thinks about race. Lakota was a wonderful land of harmony until those dirty “PC police” wrecked it.

Or so the myth goes.

Frankly, I’m pretty tired of people acting like being called a racist is worse than experiencing the social and economic reality of racism itself. Grow up.

I have five suggestions:

1. In the future, Lakota’s multicultural clubs could to be included when students, parents, teachers, or community members feel the needs of minorities aren’t being met. It may be a good way to make sure diverse student voices are heard. They can do more than throw parties and talk about people's hurt feelings. Maybe the multicultural club could be proactive in advising Lakota decisions on a long term basis so things can be done in a way that better serves all students.

2. The NAACP should continue to be engaged but make their involvement more cooperative and solution oriented.

3. The “discussions” that take place must lead to concrete decisions about how the administration and/or students behave.

Binding decisions rarely get made at “dialogues.” I remember having one or two racial “dialogues” while I went to Lakota West. A few people got some things off their chests, and that was good, but little positive change in policy or behavior took place. “Dialogues” about diversity have been happening for years. But there is still a noticeable lack of minorities among the teachers and other faculty and I’ve heard of no coherent plan to change that. This has to move from “community forums” to school board meetings.

There should be less talk about “listening” to “concerns.” Instead of navel contemplation on a lack of diversity in the faculty, for instance, there has to be plans on how to proactively change that situation. That may not mean quotas, but maybe it should mean some conscientious recruiting. Only tangible commitments and dollar amounts can give the “discussions” the teeth they need.

4. At some point the song “Why Can’t We Be Friends,” the original version recorded by the War in the mid ‘70s, should be played over a loud speaker at a Lakota event. I doubt it would help anything. I just really like that song.

The play didn’t merit all of the attention it got. But maybe it means something that a black Lakota graduate (who probably isn’t completely insane) had so much to say about it.

The bottom line is that people need to be considerate of others rather than being so obsessed with “winning.” Follow the golden rule and love your different-looking neighbors as yourself. They might see things from another perspective, but they probably aren’t out to get you.

~Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ
Lakota West, Class of 2002

Master Thespians

I made the trek up to Lakota East tonight and I thought I'd share a few quick thoughts on the play before retiring for the evening.

("...retiring for the evening..." Those darn British characters have got me talking like Sherlock Holmes.)

There was a good sized audience there, but not the swarming crowds I expected, given the media attention that's been focused on it. There were a few empty seats, but not too many. The auditorium is identical to Lakota West's, where I used to perform in band and jazz band concerts a lot. The pre-performance buzz was similar, but I think there were more people.

A Lakota East student I talked to said the crowd didn't seem much larger than the usual crowd he'd seen at similar events. He expected more people on Friday night. It definitely felt like only a handful of people in attendance had been attracted by the controversy rather than personal connections to the students. Most in the audience seemed to know each other.

The play was very well done. The students' hard work showed and it made for an entertaining and suspenseful evening. I haven't read any Agatha Christie since Jr. high school and I couldn't recall how the story ended, so I was genuinely surprised.

I was very impressed with the acting. I don't remember high school theater being quite as funny and professional as this play was.

The dialog got choppy at a few points, but that probably had more to do with the limited time they had to practice together than the skill of the actors. I remember what high school was like and I'm sure it was hard to fit such a demanding piece of artistry into their schedules.

Somehow they pulled it off. The students, their teachers, and their parents should be very proud. It would have been a shame if the play was canceled, as was previously planned.

I almost regret going into any observations of a more socially provocative nature, since I enjoyed the performance so much. I almost hate to bring it up, since I think most of the cast and crew would prefer to leave the controversy out of it. Almost.

But I have no intention of hiding from what the revised prologue of the play referred to as "the elephant in the living room." I'd read in statements Lakota gave the Enquirer that the program would include additions that were intended to "honor diversity."

So what did they do?

When I walked through the front door of the building there were 7-10 people handing something out to people as they entered the building.

I guess I looked puzzled. "Here, have a bookmark," one woman said to me with a little smile.

For some reason my more rebellious side slipped out. "Are they handing out books?" I asked with faux curiosity. "I could use more books."

She laughed off my hint of attitude. "Sorry. That would be great wouldn't it?"

Everybody else was going to be on their best behavior tonight.

I'll try to scan my bookmark and get it up on the blog so you can see it for yourself. They were basically a recognition of where the name "Lakota" came from. "To the 'Lakota' community, 'Lakota' means, friends/allies," it read. There were a couple of quotes from Lakotas named Black Elk and Sherry Hollingsworth aka Blue Bird Woman. Black Elk's read "The power of a thing or an act is in the understanding of its meaning." Hollingsworth's read "You have the name of the Lakota people, give it honor."

Apparently the Native American angle wasn't lost on everyone. It wouldn't be the first thing I've ever been wrong about.

I had mixed feelings. They acknowledged Native American contributions to the community, which was good. But there was absolutely no explanation of why it was necessary to do this at tonight's event and not at any other school event.

The additional prologue - the one a few of Michelle Malkin's readers hoped would get booed - seemed a little evasive. I assume it was written by a Lakota East student that emphatically wants nothing to do with racial politics. It made reference to "discussions" that took place before the play was put on and the "teachable moments" that emerged from the "discussions." No mention of what the "discussions" were about or even that the play had been canceled for a time. The girl delivering the short speech only conveyed her hope that we in the audience would continue the "discussions" after we left the performance, but would set them aside for now.

Some substantive historical context was provided in the program notes, which discussed Agatha Christie's popularity, the controversial titles and content of the book, and changes that have been made to the play. There were a few interesting lines about "eliminating offensive material in popular culture." A blog for another day.

During intermission they served cookies and soda. I got a few awkward glances. I started to relive that familiar Lakota feeling of being noticed as "that black guy" in the room. Did they think I was a spy or something? Or maybe just a student that didn't mingle very well?

Of course, I wasn't the only black person there. There were 4 or 5 others. One of them moved straight toward me as the audience enjoyed the refreshments. He was a tall, familiar looking man with a derby on his head. I knew him from somewhere but couldn't place him. We spoke very briefly before I headed for the restroom. Before I got there a middle aged man stopped me in mid stride.

"Who was that guy you were talking to just now? You know the tall one..." He started to point but stopped himself. "The uh... African American gentleman over there." I could tell he had a little anxiety about describing him as "African American." I felt like congratulating him.

"I'm not sure. He didn't mention his name." I said.

"He's a big guy down in Cincinnati," the stranger said. "I think he's a judge. I've heard him talk with Billy Cunningham a few times." That jogged my memory.

He was Attorney Leslie Isaiah Gaines. I talked to him a little more after I grabbed a cookie. I think he has kids that go to Lakota or something. He gave me a CD he'd recorded that featured a song called "God's Different Colored Wrapping Paper."

"We're all children of God, no matter what color we are" he told me and the white couple standing to my left. I told him I'd say hello to Kathy Y. Wilson for him. Very nice guy.

There was a Channel 12 van outside and I had a brief discussion with reporter Angela Ingram after the play was over. I don't feel right publishing much about what we talked about. I told her I was a journalism student, but it didn't occur to me then that I might want to discuss it later in the blog. I didn't make her aware that her comments might end up online somewhere - so they won't.

And about the play itself... While race didn't feature prominently in the main plot, colonialism in South Africa and "natives in the bush" are prominent parts of a few characters' backgrounds and are part of the general cultural context the cast inhabits. There were only a few racial comments in the script, but race wasn't as absent from the story performed as I'd been told.

Letters, emails and quotations in the Enquirer from students and parents insisted that race had "nothing" to do with the story. Their comments probably weren't intentionally deceptive, but they weren't wholly accurate either. I can see how a discussion of race would have been relevant because of the content of the play even if there were no arguments over the title.

There's another show tomorrow night. It will probably be even better than tonight's. I highly recommend it. Tickets are $10. You can go for the show and stay for the people watching.

~ Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ
Lakota West Class of 2002

The Colorblind Leading the Blind (part 5)

I could go on and on about diversity concerns with Lakota faculty or the West Chester/ Liberty Twp. community in general. I could talk about the disciplinary issues, or dance team/cheerleader segregation, or the white Egyptians that kept inexplicably showing up in history class, or the attempts to gerrymander district lines to keep trailer parks out of Lakota, or the immigrant roundups that left elementary school kids without parents.

I could even talk about a controversy a while back that concerned elementary school kids performing a very violent song at a concert. You may know it. The title was "Ten Little Indians.” (And trust me, unlike the play, that performance would have encouraged small children to celebrate the extended version of the rhyme, complete with plenty of slurs and racist imagery).

But a juvenile listing wouldn’t be constructive. I’ll just say this – what some label as arbitrary “perceived insults” become significant when you suspect your getting treated unfairly by people who just so happen to approve of these “racial insensitivities.” When someone who happens to be white starts in the football game and you know you’ve made more tackles this year. When someone else gets the solo at a recital and you know you can hit that high note that they can’t. When you get disciplined for dress code violations that the white kids wearing the same thing never get hassled for. Then these lapses in “political correctness” cease to be innocent mistakes – they start to look like winks and nods that express how others really feel about you but can’t say out loud. Let’s not forget that inside jokes and innuendo have historically been hallmarks of segregationist culture.

Like I said, Lakota’s knee-jerk response to silence discussion of race rather than confront it is typical of their usual pattern. Probably because of the lack of diversity in the faculty, Lakota seems afraid of engaging in any racial issue because they think they will always be cast as the racist villains. When most of the people with complaints are black and most of the people receiving the complaints are white, it can be hard to escape that perception. Especially when in some cases it’s true.

The NAACP’s combative approach doesn’t help. Was their response a little too reactive? Yes. Does Hines’ connection to a business that provides services very similar to those he says Lakota needs look kind of shady? Definitely.

But in his defense, isn’t it possible that he just tries to lead his professional life toward things he’s personally passionate about? His methods have their faults, but is it so hard to believe that maybe both his confrontations with Lakota and his choice of profession come from a single desire for equality? How many journalists have tried to connect their publications to stories that they are passionate about or are personally affected by?

But even more problematic than Hines’ conflict of interest is the way the NAACP tends to adopt a “we freedom fighters against the racists” attitude rather than a “all of us banding together against racism itself” attitude. The NAACP keeps trying to cast itself as Luke Skywalker and Lakota as the Empire, and that just drives neighbors they should be embracing into more defensive positions.

~ Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ
Lakota West Class of 2002

The Colorblind Leading the Blind (part 4)

Michelle Malkin stole my morning. I was planning on just doing a few quick internet searches on the Ten Little Indians situation at Lakota East. Several hours later, I was fuming at Malkin’s blog posts about the controversy and still pouring over the comments all the amateur pundits had left.

For those that don’t know, Malkin is a conservative author, columnist, and media personality that occasionally shows up on Fox News and C-Span. She grabbed my attention a few years ago when she became the first Asian person (Malkin is of Filipino descent) I’d ever heard of who defended Japanese-American internment during WWII as something with legitimate "military necessity."

I’ll go ahead and launch a rhetorical preemptive strike against anyone that might accuse me of suggesting she’s a “traitor to her race.” THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M TRYING TO SAY. As much as I disagree with how she embraces injustice, she’s entitled to her opinion. I’m just saying I hadn’t seen an Asian person say what she said before, that’s all.

I think Malkin’s often smarter, more artful, and more in-your-face than Sean Hannity or even Ann Coulter. And yet she still gets less attention. Could it be that many in her conservative audience harbor a few “racial preferences” of their own?

Malkin and Fox News have been among the national voices discussing Lakota East's current events. As one might expect, she treats the issue as an example of liberal political correctness run amok. On the blog Malkin talks about personal emails form Lakota students. If that personal connection gives her telling of the story more credibility, let me tell you a little story.

I attended schools in the Lakota district for 10 years. But my younger sister Kristal has me beat. She went there for 12. She graduated from Lakota West as the first black valedictorian to graduate from any Lakota high school.

This happened to occur in 2004, the 50-year anniversary of the Brown vs. the Board of Education decision in 1954 that integrated schools in America. The other journalists out there would probably agree that the situation sounds like a recipe for giving a big national story some local Cincinnati flavor, right?

That’s probably why The Cincinnati Enquirer sent reporters to ask my family about it and collected information from Lakota administrators.

Despite Kristal’s glowingly positive descriptions of her experience at Lakota, the district’s administrators were concerned about what they saw as the negative tone of the Enquirer’s questions. Their official response to the Enquirer was something like: “We do not keep records on the ethnicity of our valedictorians.”

So The Enquirer couldn’t verify that she was indeed the first black valedictorian, and the story was left out of one of the largest newspapers in the region. A far less interesting blurb appeared instead. The historical context of Kristal's achievement was common knowledge among everyone familiar with the school system, and they even printed a story about it in the smaller Butler County newspaper called The Pulse Journal. Nearly all of my sister's comments about Lakota were positive. It would have been a generally positive story. But since Lakota administrators “can’t see race,” they probably single handedly blocked broader regional coverage of a rare positive story about diversity in Cincinnati. Lakota's phobia of racial issues won the day.

But I suspect that more than a phobia of racial issues was at work. On top of the black valedictorian, the salutatorian (my sister’s friend Jing Jing Mao) was Asian. If memory serves, less than two thirds of the top 25 students in her graduating class were white. Parents were becoming distressed about this. (And if they were willing to talk about their discomfort when the black folk could hear them, I can only imagine what they were saying when we couldn’t.)

I can’t help but wonder if there was something deeper going on in Lakota’s denial. My sister’s story alone could not have been that big a deal, but shining the spotlight on her could have been an important piece of a developing narrative of changing racial demographics in the Lakota school district. Lakota administrators probably don’t want the rest of the region to become too invested in that narrative.

It’s a story that’s been played out in suburbs across the nation. I think most of us have heard of “white flight.” There were already murmurs about Lakota becoming more “urban.” (I don’t have to tell you what that euphemism means.) The test scores and graduation rates continued to soar. But if people began to think minorities were “taking over” the district, would it start to look less attractive to parents and homeowners (of all ethnicities) who are looking for a "Leave it to Beaver" lifestyle? Could they have been trying to maintain the myth? Hmm…

~ Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ
Lakota West Class of 2002

The Colorblind Leading the Blind (part 3)

The recent controversy over the play Ten Little Indians (which is now being performed as And Then There Were None) is only the latest example of Lakota’s pattern of avoidance and delusion about race.

This is about a lot more than a play. The grudge between the NAACP and the Lakota School district has been going on for years, and both sides tend to emerge from the fray looking like the immature children they claim to be protecting. Before they got all this attention, the play was probably just the latest excuse to bicker.

The real point of contention in the NAACP/Lakota beef is the lack of diversity in Lakota’s faculty.

The disparity isn't just a matter of perception. The current minority student population is between 15% and 20% and the minority percentage among faculty is less than 2%. Having talked to plenty of fellow students who have attended Lakota schools and their parents (white, black, Asian, Indian, Hispanic, etc.), many feel the relative racial uniformity of the faculty is palpable.

So the complaint is valid. Even if the situation didn’t heighten the racial tensions at Lakota, at the very least it creates an atmosphere where figures of authority and respect share a cultural and racial perspective that is far too homogeneous given Lakota’s changing cultural demographics. Having spent 10 years in the school system, I’ve personally observed that Lakota students are growing more and more comfortable with having peers of various cultures and ethnic groups. But many seem uneasy – if not resistant – to the idea of people that are different from them being in positions of authority or even holding the spotlight.

Many in the Lakota community seem to feel that having a black sidekick is fine, but having a black boss or team captain is counterintuitive and uncomfortable, to put it mildly.

And of course, whenever any racial issue arises, no matter how benign, Lakota’s first priority tends to be silencing any discussion of race as soon as possible rather than addressing it head on.

The problems with the play itself have been exaggerated. But the underlying racial issues at Lakota are still being neglected. And not unlike other racial controversies (the Jena 6 come to mind) people rally behind an issue that isn't as cut and dry as they'd like it to be because it's something to which they can attach all of their other frustrations.

This is really about the death of a myth – a myth that Lakota is a pristine oasis where almost everyone’s rich and perfect. Life at Lakota is just like "Leave it to Beaver," right? It may be unpopular to acknowledge it, but racial homogeneity is a significant part of that myth. Many think when blacks and Hispanics are prominent features of a community, falling property values, crime, and poverty necessarily come with them like vermin carrying a plague. It's no secret that a significant chunk of the community believes diversity would spoil the paradise they imagine the suburbs to be.

I can't say I'm sorry to see that myth die.

~ Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ
Lakota West Class of 2002

The Colorblind Leading the Blind (part 2)

Maybe all this grief is because the folks at Lakota are like Stephen Colbert. Maybe they “can’t see race.”

The character Colbert plays on TV claims he can’t. He says he is unable tell whether someone is black or white and that he has to rely on others to discern racial categories for him. The gag is funny because as viewers we know he’s lying – we know he doesn’t need “racist” people to tell him he’s white. He only claims to be “colorblind” as part of an obnoxious attempt to avoid being called a racist himself.

Imagine that… Someone with a dubious racial track record doing something obnoxious – like abruptly canceling a play – just to avoid being called a racist. That Colbert is one crazy character.

The trouble with this kind of “colorblindness” (apart from the dishonesty and absurdity of it) is that it implicitly carries a supremacist attitude. It says, “I can’t possibly acknowledge the differences between you and me without assigning you a greater or lesser value than me. So we have to just pretend the differences don’t exist.” Striving to be “colorblind” means believing other people’s ethnicity is a mark against them that we have to learn to overlook.

Never mind that my ethnic heritage is something I love about myself. Never mind that I would feel similarly insulted if someone didn’t notice I was male or ignored some other important part of my identity. Never mind that I cherish the contribution of cultures and perspectives that are different from mine.

If “colorblindness” is the goal, it means race is a “problem” that has to be swept under the rug. That doesn’t sound like a great idea.

Colbert’s humor rings so true for me personally because as a black student attending Lakota schools, I heard this sort of thing a lot. You see, we are all supposed to believe members of Lakota’s faculty are not able to see race either.

You’ll notice that even in all of the commotion caused by the play, statements from Lakota administrators tend to avoid anything having directly to do with race. Lakota officials tend to talk in vague terms like “diversity of all kinds” and “inclusion and tolerance” and refer to a “history around a previous title” that “caused a negative impact on some members of our community.” It’s like pulling teeth to get folks at Lakota to even use the word “race.”

Based on articles I've read about it, Enquirer reporters seem to have gotten the same impression.

Is play cancellation censorship?

The play is on

NAACP: Play shows need to talk

Raising the curtain in Lakota

~ Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ
Lakota West Class of 2002

When Blogs Go Wrong

RiShawn Biddle, an African-American editorial writer at The Indianapolis Star, was fired in October for a blog post called “The Indianapolis Black Democrat minstrel show.” In the original entry, which has been deleted from The Star’s Web site, Riddle said the city’s council president, Monroe Gray, was “more Zip Coon than honorable statesman,” invoking a racially-charged stereotype that goes back more than 200 years. From the entry:

“Then there's the embarrassing spectacle that is Monroe Gray, whose tenure as city-county council president is being marked by a lack of decorum during council sessions, the videos of himself on YouTube and responses to allegations of corruption that wouldn't be acceptable to a child who claimed his dog ate the homework. His act, more Zip Coon than honorable statesman, epitomizes the lack of seriousness some Black politicians show in their work; it's just inexcusable....”

(As Shaggy from Scooby-Doo would say, ”Zoinks!”)

In an age when newbie journos and old-hats newshounds alike are expected to be online adventurers, forging ahead into the medium that is drastically changing our industry, where do you draw the line between news and opinion?

No matter what your bosses tell you, here’s the reality of the situation: If you work for a media company, you’re not a “genuine” blogger because you can’t—can NOT—just say whatever you want to say with no consequences. To me, that is the essence of blogging—being able to say whatever the heck I want without fear of reprisal from the company for which I work. Therefore, the freedom you reporters and writers think you feel while blogging for your newspaper, magazine, TV station, etc., ain’t free. Trust. You still work for that company and as such, when you write, you represent them. Until the day you quit, that is. Or get fired for comparing city council to a minstrel show.

adl

The Colorblind Leading the Blind (part 1)

What has really blown my mind about the drama unfolding at Lakota East is how the Native American angle has been neglected.

You may or may not have heard about the recent hullabaloo at Lakota East high school in the Cincinnati suburb of West Chester/ Liberty Twp. It revolves around a play called “Ten Little Indians.” After students had already spent months rehearsing it, the play was abruptly canceled by administrators because the local chapter of the NAACP raised concerns about the title and the book on which the play was based. The original Agatha Christi novel was originally printed with a title that I’ll awkwardly call “Ten Little N-words.” (Using euphemisms like “N-word” seems kind of juvenile to me, but I don’t want anybody to try to cancel this blog, so there you have it.)

It should be noted that the NAACP has maintained through all of this that they never suggested the play should be canceled. They said they only wanted to make Lakota East aware of the history behind it.

The play was called “Ten Little Indians.” And the school district is called “Lakota,” for crying out loud. Not only did no one think about how Native Americans might be offended. Somehow, even when racial concerns were raised, they were still all about how it might offend black people. Doesn’t the “CP” in NAACP stand for “Colored People” – meaning their concerns extend to all “non-white” minorities and not just black folk?

Before I dig too deep, let’s get the easy stuff out of the way. Does anyone really think “Ten Little Indians” was an intentional slight against anyone? I don’t. The original title of the book is racist, and Agatha Christie did use plainly racist language in some of the things she wrote. But the play itself doesn’t seem very offensive. On top of that, free speech is my bread and butter as an up and coming journalist, so censorship is always unsettling to me.

Approaching issues like this requires people of good will to do something far more courageous than sanitizing the past for our children. As we educate we have to own up to the fact that racism is an inescapable and inherent part of a large number of "classic" works that we revere. For centuries, white supremacy was the status quo in Western culture – not a radical view held by a few. Discussions about racism need to be a routine part of the way we treat a lot of western literature. You can’t read “greats” like Agatha Christie or Mark Twain or Hume or Kipling or Hegel or even the Constitution of the United States without running into racist language. (And it isn’t just the white writers. You can’t tell me some of the “classic” literature the Nation of Islam produced didn’t include some racist language too.) Being well educated requires seeing offensive content. Let’s just hope we raise our children well enough to be offended when they see it.

And doesn’t the NAACP chapter president Gary Hines look at least a little bit shady for trying to pressure Lakota into using diversity training that his company, GPH Consultants, just happens to provide? Even when the concerns are valid, someone else needs to start taking the lead in discussing them.

But that’s just the shallow end of the in-ground pool.

~ Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ
Lakota West Class of 2002

New York Times Student Journalism Institute 2008 - deadline Feb. 28, 2008

It's time to start thinking about the New York Times Student Journalism Institute 2008 in New Orleans May 18 to 31. The Institute gives you a chance to join others who share your passion for news and to work with the best journalists in the business.

You'll make friends for a lifetime, and you'll learn lessons that will carry through a lifetime. You'll have a chance to work covering real news in the city whose hopes and challenges have become one of the biggest stories of our generation. And it doesn't hurt that all your expenses are paid.

Student members of the National Association of Black Journalists, along with students at historically black colleges and universities, are eligible to apply to the Institute.

The Christmas break is the perfect time to write the essay and put together the clips packet required. The deadline is Feb. 29, 2008 (postmarked).

To find out more about the Institute, and to see the work of the students who have attended previous Institutes, go to www.nytimes-institute.com. And while you're there, download the application form and fill it out.

Don Hecker
Director
New York Times Student Journalism Institute
hecker@nytimes.com
(212) 556-1576

UCABJ supports Black Press program

Join UCABJ members, fellow journalism students, and the general public this Saturday, Dec. 8, for a special presentation in 800 Swift Hall highlighting the role of the Black Press in America.

For 10 weeks, students in my seminar course—including UCABJers Terron Austin, Bridget Jackson, and Tim Kooy—have diligently researched special topics to present to the public. Their work, which will be featured at CETconnect.org, was created as part of a partnership between UC and the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center, along with the school's Center for Community Engagement and Director of Academic Partnerships.

Last week, an enthusiastic group of high school students from Withrow and Turpin visited campus to hear journalism students describe their presentations. They offered feedback and sparked serious philosophical debates among the JRN students, who seemed to learn as much as their younger peers.

This Saturday, those students will bring along others from their schools and, we hope, plenty more as the final class presentations take shape. Hollis Towns, The Cincinnati Enquirer's executive editor, will be on hand for opening remarks. All are welcome in 800 Swift from 9 a.m. until lunch is served. Campus tours will be offered to high school students and anyone else who is interested immediately following lunch.

Stay tuned for images, updates, and more from this very special event!

Elissa Sonnenberg
Faculty Adviser
University of Cincinnati Association of Black Journalists

*Special thanks to Cincinnati Association of Black Journalists president Jenell Walton (of WCPO-TV) and Greater Cincinnati SPJ president Hagit Lamor (also of WCPO-TV) for forwarding information about this program to their members and supporters.

Allow Me to Reintroduce Myself...

During the last UCABJ meeting (Thursday night in 423 TUC), Terron mentioned the first columns we did in Kathy Wilson's columns and reviews class. The idea was to choose a segment of our identity - like gender, class, sexuality, or race - and write a column about it. This helped us home in on our individual voice. Since my professor was the only one that ever saw that column, I thought I'd post it here. It might also provide a good backdrop for upcoming posts, since they will also concern my experiences at the Lakota school district.

_____________________________________________________________________
He Got Game

I hate basketball. A sense of relief flows through me every spring whenever I realize “March Madness” is over and the ubiquitous college basketball season has come to an end. My embarrassing lack of athletic ability has helped make me generally disinterested in sports. But more than any other game, basketball really gets under my skin. And the color of that skin probably has a lot to do with my hatred of the game.

As a black male of the Hip Hop generation, others often assume I love basketball. The athletic expectations that are placed on people like me at an early age can make certain roles, like the black basketball player, painful and humiliating.

I grew up in the Cincinnati suburb of West Chester, Ohio. It was a place where the corn grew tall, the big houses were far apart, and they designed high schools to look like shopping malls. Most of the trees in my neighborhood were noticeably small because the real estate was so new. There were frequent parking problems at my high school, Lakota West, because so many students were driving their own cars to classes. And when they got to those classes, I was routinely the only black guy there.

I know what you might be thinking. No, I am not an Uncle Tom. I really do identify strongly with the black community. As a literate black male, dealing with racial tension and a preoccupation with forms of oppression became integral parts of my identity.

But my personal encounters with bigotry in suburbia, however real they may have been, weren’t severe enough to fully explain my fixation on race. In many ways, my identity has been shaped by things that happened before I was born.

We members of the Hip Hop generation share a vivid collective memory of past traumas and struggles linked to American racism. In fact, our parents’ stories overshadow our own. Segregation and racism are often on our minds.

I see myself in images of black bodies chained together on slave ships, and black people hanging from trees. The stories of those that came before me - from my Grandma Pauline’s mother being raped by a slave master to the hostility my parents experienced as they integrated elementary schools in Tennessee in the ‘60s – have helped to shape who I am.

The hope, faith, and strength that my forefathers and foremothers had through all of these struggles continue to empower me. At the same time, being a member of the Hip Hop generation also involves an underlying sense of being late to the show. It’s as if all of the exciting and important stories have already been told.

But only a liar would try to say the continuing significance of race in everyday life is just in our heads. People who grow up in the suburbs don’t catch as much hell as the ones who grow up in the ghettos or the rural south, but we all feel the heat.

Racism in the criminal justice system is very real. Gross disparities in education and employment are very real. And somehow unarmed white young men don’t seem to get killed by police as often as unarmed black young men do.

The personal interactions with peers and authority figures are even more important to racial identity than societal conditions are. Being black is like that history teacher that decided I’d be a discipline problem the moment I walked into the room.

Being black is like my frustration with white supremacist compliments like “I don’t even think of you as black.” They always smile when they say it, as if denigrating my heritage is supposed to make me feel flattered.

And yes, being black is like when the other guys picked me for their basketball team because they thought dark skin somehow made me a Harlem Globetrotter or something. Being black is like when you’re viewed as some kind of mutant when you don’t embody the stereotype. Charlie-Brown-cases like me that are short and clumsy deal with enough rejection without such racially charged expectations rubbing salt into the wound.

I don’t know if listening to Rap, Jazz and NPR makes me more or less “black.” I don’t know if being able to name which planet Chewbacca is from or spending Sunday mornings in a pew makes me more or less “white.” Who knows? Maybe believing in karma makes me more Asian. There’s a lot of ambiguity when it comes to my generation’s racial identity.

But there’s one thing I do know. I hate basketball.

____________________________________________________________________

~Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ