As I suggested yesterday, the persistence and worsening of the racial wealth gap in the U.S. must be attributed, at least in part, to widespread acceptance of the current U.S. racial order. Thus, perhaps the most revealing statistic to upset some of our entrenched suppositions is the wealth decline of Asians: 54%.This even exceeds the percentage decline for blacks.As of 2009, the median household wealth for Asians was still, $78,066, grossly exceeding Latinos and blacks.However, Asians nonetheless lost their top ranking (over whites) dropping from their 2005 mark of $168,103.
Something is surely rotten in Denmark when the group prompting UC Berkeley and many Ivies to feel the other edge of that meritocracy sword, and therefore walk towards a more “holistic” approach to admissions, finds itself unmistakeably in the same boat as black and Latinos rather than whites. Or, perhaps, nothing is rotting at all -- perhaps it has always smelled this way.
Hopefully not lost amid the ruckus over the debt ceiling is the Pew Research Center report on the effects of the recession on the wealth gap between whites on the on one side and people of color. Released Tuesday, the report looks at inflation-adjusted median wealth over the period 2005-2009. The Pew study defines wealth by subtracting a household's debt from its assets: houses, personal goods like cars and jewelry, cash and investments (stock and 401(k)s stacked up against mortgages, credit card debt and student loans, etc. The income of every group fell from 2005-2009 but, according to Pew, in this same period
inflation-adjusted median wealth fell by 66% among Hispanic households and 53% among black households, compared with just 16% among white households.As a result of these declines, the typical black household had just $5,677 in wealth ... in 2009; the typical Hispanic household had $6,325 in wealth; and the typical white household had $113,149.
An equally grim finding: TIME magazineexplains that “35% of African Americans and 31% of Hispanics reported zero or negative net worth in 2009. By contrast, only 15% of white households were in the same boat.”
Pew believes that, compared to household income, wealth provides a more accurate snapshot of the financial well-being of Americans across race.
The picture presented by the Pew report is downright alarming, although it is unlikely to make the splash it ought to. White households were about 20 times wealthier than black ones in 2009, and 18 times wealthier than Hispanic ones. In some respects, it is a measure of relative trauma – all Americans have been traumatized by the recession.
I’d offer that bigger problem is that the numbers are, I daresay, expected. Widespread acceptance of the U.S. racial order among both whites and other racial groups leads all to do little more than shrug. Or respond, “That’s f*cked uuup,” shake ones head as if by second-nature, and move on. As if it were a tactless and painful comment about one’s hairdo leveled pointedly but in jest by a definite friend.
Hooray. Who can deny that the women in this photo, Phyllis Siegel and Connie Kopelov, deserve as much as any two people who ever loved one another to have their love formally recognized? Could there be a better Exhibit A for why any two adults should have the right to marry regardless of their sexual preference?
In many respects, gay rights has gone mainstream. But, really, it's when any two gay people could inspire the same level of "that's so wonderful" -- just like when a black family doesn't have to have the Huxtable pedigree to be "approved" by neighbors, or a black male doesn't have to speak like Grant Hill or the Prez in order to still be recognized as intellectually a G -- then that will be a whole new level of equality. I recognize some images are just more potentially iconic than others, and it's often too complicated, even uncouth, to sort through the DNA of our cultural memes to figure out exactly why. I'm happy to let this be the case here. So, at the risk of contradicting myself, I'll just posit again: could there be a better Exhibit A for why any two adults should have the right to marry regardless of their sexual preference?
"In the right corner, the righteous corner, the made Michelle Obama (and me) believe in America again corner, it's the skinniest but toughest president ever... it's BAAAAROCKYYYY OOOOBAMAAAA!"
I listened to President Obama's press conference on the debt ceiling on NPR yesterday. As he made his case, eviscerating the Republicans on their intransigence, one of the President's signature quips from the campaign kept running through my head: "I'm Skinny, But I'm Tough." He used to say this on the campaign trail and during the health care debate. "Yep," I think, "Barocky Obama."
Really, Barack is the Rocky of our epoch. His rise was improbable, and then when he seems to be getting pummeled on some issue - the health care bill, Don't Ask, Don't Tell -- again and again he pivots and manages to pull through. I'll admit I occasionally vacillate between, "Man! Why is he conceding [pick your issue]" and "Damn, that Barack is too damn smart for 'em."
As he squares up against the GOP, his Ivan Drago or Clubber Lang, I can hear Michael Buffer.* By the end of last month, it really did seem to me that he was down for the count, that he had conceded the argument to the GOP. Then he came with that Jedi mind trick, you wanna cut, then let's go crazy 4.3 trillion proposal. Since then, the GOP has been losing the argument in the court of public opinion, and appearing to more and more Americans, I believe, as the empty suits they are. As he explains in the last five minutes of the conference, putting the deficit and debt issue to bed for the next 10 to 15 years (or at least sedating ity) would rob Republicans of their most effective argument with independents. These are the folks who are not down with "big government" but, aligning with progressives, do believe in "smart government."
So, right now I'm just like some silly, too happy 10 year old doing the "That's mah cuuuzin. That's mah cuuuzin" singsong. (Channel Martin Lawrence). "That's mah preeesident. That's mah preeesident." Here he is. Fast forward to last 10 minutes to really see him smack the GOP silly.
* Or his brother, Bruce, since these bouts might well be more UFC than WBC.
I first heard this quote about fifteen years while watching Rushmore, one of my all-time favorite movies.I’ve always taken it to mean: you gotsta shine yo' light.It has resonated so strongly over the years that it often comes to mind when I find that I have an important decision to make.This primarily meant: do I do my best, in response to the dictates of the moment, to be me, or do I conform because that is the easy way?But it has also related to opportunity: do I shirk it (because the opportunity would require uncapped amounts of blood, sweat, and tears), or do I, with such knowledge, nevertheless take it head on?I have answered in the honorable way often, but, alas, not always.Tragic, in a way.
Last night, this Jacques Cousteau quote came to mind when I heard the jazz piece above on KCSM*. It had absolutely nothing to do with “being me” or seizing opportunity. The only thing it related to, as I drove down Grand Avenue back home, was beauty.Simply, plainly, absolutely: beautiful.In wonder I remarked, “What song is this?”(Didn’t the wise men sing, “What Child is This?”)
Now my favorite quote has taken on an added resonance.I don’t know so much, anymore, about the standard for living extraordinarily** but I do know that beauty abounds in the world, and because of it, there are also many opportunities to experience the extraordinary.I think Cousteau might agree with Khadize’s Corollaries: there are many beautiful things in the world, and when you create one of these things, you must share it.And when you find of one these things, you must share it.And when you are touched by one of these things, you must pass along that touch.
I am glad I found Monty Alexander’s Harlem-Kingston Express last night. It was beautiful.And I’m glad I am able to share it with you.
*The best jazz station in da wurrld! at FM 91.1 in the Bay.
** Ok, so you might think Mr. Yes We Can, though currently bedeviled by the Hell No We Won’t GOP, is the exemplar of leading an extraordinary life. After all, what's more extraordinary than being president. I'd like to up the ante -- or lower it, depending on your perspective:Barack’s life is extraordinarily extraordinary.So the poor man's (or everyman's extraordinary) is that described above.
I saw this in the back room of a cafe I regularly work at. I can't know for sure what the artist was thinking, but the multicolored squigglies seem to be curls weaving all over a soul sistah's head. Succinctly, she declares, "Sanity."
Despite some definite widening of standards in mainstream/corporate America for "respectable" ways to wear black hair, I nonetheless contend the afro ever retains a certain potential as a statement, a statement for all sundry of views, positions, orientations. Not one necessarily emanating from the wearer, but still so deemed by many an observer. Many black folks circulating in the mainstream/corporate world will be disinclined to wear the fro in such settings, lest this act be deemed a statement they, decidedly, were not making. You know, we think, "What if such and such -- my boss, my client, the judge, the buyer, etc. -- gets the wrong message?" Hence a lifelong relationship with second-guessing and angst. Sure, some naturally prefer a perm, (pun intended)* but a certain degree of censorship in all cases cannot be denied. So, the afro is avoided.
In this sistah I see someone who chooses to do as she wishes despite, I am sure, her awareness of the potential ramifications. Rather than try to sort them out, game theory like, she lets the chips -- I mean curls -- fall where they may. Leave it for someone else to surmise a statement, she thinks. Her hair, and hence, her being too, will speak for itself. That is, I believe, pure sanity.
*An aside on puns: once you recognize a pun, and decide to keep it, I don't think you can honestly write, "no pun intended." Better to just do the "see no evil" act or own up to your punning ways.
"Oooh. This song right here did not make my album, but this is my muth@#$% theme song. Check it out... Rewind. We could do dat... That's right. I'ma get it on cue, cause this is --- woo ooosh... We finnin' to go into it... cause whenever you ready... cause ahm, ahm ready with it. This is it? ... Let's begin." - Aceyalone
This is the beginning of Aceyalone's A Book of Human Language. Yes, mostly verbal filler, a warm up, the equivalent of scales. In comparison to the gems that flow throughout this album - "The (Hip Hop) Guidelines," "The Faces," "Grandfather Clock" - straight up gibberish. But still, but still: part of the process, necessary. So, today's post is dedicated to, showcases, the process, rather than the processed. You have my permission to laugh -- I did.
