Monday, November 16, 2020

Self-obsession is killing U.S. Democracy

Susan Del Percio of the Lincoln Project makes excellent points in her opinion piece at NBC News, "Trump tweets Biden won — but won't concede election or stop fundraising. Confused? Don't be." She argues that Trump is using his no-concession stance to raise money for what awaits him after his presidency, meaning lawsuits in New York. 

But while she politely phrases as a conditional statement Trump's indifference to the health of this nation, I'm fine with asserting that Trump never cared about this nation. I won't even argue that point. Video and reams of tweets confirm his contempt and indifference. 

Del Percio writes:
For all practical purposes, Trump has already given up on his responsibility to the country — if he ever felt any to begin with. He doesn't care that he is putting our national security at risk by refusing to allow Biden access to the Presidential Daily Brief. The spikes in coronavirus infections and deaths also mean nothing. And Trump and his allies in Congress have signaled that the millions of unemployed and businesses that are failing are basically on their own.

We will live with the damage. Still, what is it about this nation that makes it susceptible to elevating people like him?

Others have already examined the political and socioeconomic factors that may push U.S. democracy toward its demise. For instance, Jill Lepore at the New Yorker compares how this Trumpian era is similar to the era of democracy in peril during the 1930s. She discusses the issue in the New Yorker Radio Hour as well, embedded below.

 
Aside from the U.S.A. being founded on practices of inequality and justifications for cruelty, I surmise that the USA is particularly susceptible to empowering pathological narcissists because its culture exalts individualism to the point of applauding self-obsession. This nation has made being selfish and vain a virtuous asset. See selfies and FB likes, reality TV, and even old-school facets of the cult of celebrity.

In Trump's case, his commitment to himself and extensions of himself (his family and money) is the trait that draws some people to him. Perhaps, deep down, some admire him wishing they could be equally self-absorbed and crass. But how can a nation be "of the people, by the people and for the people" survive if each of its people is out for herself or, in lame duck's case, himself?  

I don't claim to have answers, but I will own my observations. The phrase "for the common good" has nearly vanished from our political conversation as well as the understanding that "your rights end where the next person nose begins." (Yes, you anti-mask folk, I'm thinking of you.) And is there anything about Trump's behavior that indicates he follows the golden rule? Yet, nearly half of voters think he should stay at the helm. Would a healthy democracy love a Trump or see him as a dangerous aberration?


What makes democracy work?

American educators and leaders used to reference ancient Greek philosophers and ancient Greek government as influencing this nation's principles. However, it seems that the only ancient Greek practice that stuck is hierarchal citizenship. We shun their emphases on ethics, justice, rigorous debate, intellectual growth, and creativity for the benefit of the polis (the city-state that functions best with collaboration and community).

The ancient Greeks exalted self-development, as do Americans, but the goal of self-development in ancient Greek culture was not the right to say "I'm number one" or to gain power to rule others. The goal was to gain control of oneself so one could wisely practice fairness and deference to others. Accountability to other members of the polis was a big deal with them. Commitment to building benevolent character was virtuous.

No, they did not advocate the absolute subjugation of the self to the community. The Greeks did not aspire to a hive mind. They practiced moderation in all things.

I do not advocate absolute imitation of Greek governance and culture. It's not as though they didn't justify levels of oppression, but certainly we can dump the bath water only. What are we missing today about maintaining a healthy democracy? Wise people learn from the past. 

This I know for sure: The farther we drift from thinking ethically, thinking about the good of the whole, of valuing critical thinking, equity and justice, the closer we get to the fall of this democracy.

We are far from thinking ethically--far from considering how outrageous self-indulgence damages us and has far-reaching effects. We are far from considering how the ethics of the leaders we empower will influence our children and grand children. 

I did not say the lives of our children and grandchildren. I said our children and grandchildren, their character, their values. The quality of their lives depends on the quality of their character. 

Too many of us no longer think at all. Trump has lost the election, but what remains in his wake? He has fired up a contingent of folk who don't seem to empathize with anyone outside their families or social group. Many appear to be fine with the suffering, even the death, of others. What is their version of the common good?

Equitable justice, agreement to work toward the American ideal, a more perfect union, took quite a few steps backward in the last four years. What can we do to recoup our losses? How will we move ahead?


Thursday, September 3, 2020

Other books related to African-American studies


This list is a supplement to a longer list a college student is curating on Facebook related to African-American Studies. The student already has many excellent suggestions. I took the request as an opportunity to search my brain, and I haven't posted in a while either, so there's that.

The Miseducation of the Negro by Carter G. Woodson

On Lynchings by Ida B. Wells (Also look for her Memphis Diary)

The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. DuBois

James Baldwin : Collected Essays
Notes of a Native Son / Nobody Knows My Name / The Fire Next Time / No Name in the Street / The Devil Finds Work / Other Essays (Library of America) Hardcover – February 1, 1998 by James Baldwin (Author), Toni Morrison (Editor)

Mules and Men by Zora Neale Hurston

Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

The History of White People by Nell Irvin Painter

The Autobiography of Malcolm X by Malcolm X and Alex Haley



The Signifying Monkey by Henry Louis Gates, Jr.

Black Skin, White Masks by Frantz Fanon

We Are Coming by Shirley Wilson Logan

The Forgotten People: Cane River's Creoles of Color by Gary B. Mills, Elizabeth Shown Mills  

Sister Citizen by Melissa Harris Perry

The African Diaspora: African Origins and New World Identities Edited by Isidore Okpewho, Carole Boyce Davies, Ali Mazrui



Looking for Leroy by Mark Anthony Neal


This Little Light of Mine: The Life of Fannie Lou Hamer    by Kay Mills 


Lagniappe: Podcasts that include book recommendations in this area, etc.

Scene on Radio: Seeing White
A list at Vanity Fair
Melissa Harris Perry's syllabus on black women in politics
Article, "The Case or Reparations" by Ta-Nehisi Coates at The Atlantic
Books on the Harlem Renaissance
Toni Morrison's 1975 Lecture on Race (not the article the recording)





 

Friday, July 31, 2020

So much cuteness--adorable toddler does yoga with parents (video)


Absolutely precious. This adorable toddler in the video below is all over the parents and modeling their poses sometimes as they do yoga together in yard. The video made by day. MadeNmelanin on Twitter tagged this as Black, Family, Black Love. 

With all that's happened in 2020 in the black community, we need to see more images of us loving each other, lifting each other up in the storm and struggle.

(Photo by Zach Vessels on Unsplash)

Sunday, July 12, 2020

"Say Thank You Say I'm Sorry" -- Jericho Brown, Alfre Woodard

"Say Thank You Say I'm Sorry" poem by Jericho Brown (Pulitzer Prize for poetry) recited by the indomitable and stellar Alfre Woodard.


 #COVID-19 and #Coronavirus exposure #essentialworkers

Sunday, May 24, 2020

To Bitch or Not to Bitch: Whole Foods Under COVID-19

Shopping by motorized cart is something I've never done, and I still have never done it. I'm only sitting in one at the moment, watching the bright blue sky and people go in and out the Whole Foods in Metairie, Louisiana. Cars cruise down Veterans Memorial Boulevard in the distance, and for the first time in my life, I'm pecking out a blog post on my cellphone. 

Black, 60 years old, and female, I live in New Orleans, but sometimes I shop at the Whole Foods in Metairie instead of the one in Orleans Parish on Broad. I am recovering from illness -- but not COVID-19. For half a week, I was on a clear liquid diet, then a mushy one. 

Finally, a few days ago, I returned to solid food, so this Saturday, I decided to rise early, shed my pajamas for street clothes, don my mask, and leave the house like a healthy person. I thought I'd take advantage of early morning shopping for seniors at the Whole Foods, something else I've never done. I figured I'd be done with that errand by 8:00 a.m. at the latest. 

Despite having to get a jump yesterday the first time I tried to run an errand, I thought my Saturday plans would progress smoothly. I'd driven the day before to Lakeview Grocery and back after the AARP contractor started my car. Never would I have guessed that at 8:00 a.m.Saturday, I'd be in my driveway waiting for a jump again instead of loading groceries in my car. 

I never thought that by 9:53 am Saturday, I would be sitting outside the Metairie store without so much as a pint of blueberries, edgy, and staring at the parking lot, but life is life. It doesn't care about my plans. Now an unplanned car repair bill loomed.

After my virtual doctor visit two weeks earlier and fighting a fever, I had jello, apple juice, boullion cubes, hard candy, and ginger ale delivered once via InstaCart the first week, and one meal delivered via Waitr 10 days later. Using those services was a first for me. 

I felt even guiltier thinking about that delivery now than I had when I saw how much using InstaCart costs. Its mark-up's a bit much, but I had no choice. I didn't want to ask friends and family to leave home and pick up groceries for me. I'd feel horrible if someone doing me a favor caught the virus while buying my chicken broth.

Having a meal delivered by Waitr hurt my wallet, too, but I felt less guilty about that expense. The Korma with chicken and rice from Nirvana Indian Kitchen was worth it. Maybe eating bland food for more than a week heightened the meal's flavor. After I finishing half of it, I justified the price completely and plugged the restaurant on Twitter.


At least I wasn't charged for the virtual doctor visit. Thank God for health insurance, but there's more to being sick than doctor bills and feeling like hell. How stupid of me to ignore the voice of my father, dead since 2012, advising me to just go out and rev my Toyota's engine every four or five days. That choice costs me unless it was just the battery's time to die.

I had to accept that my car definitely needed work when it didn't start Saturday morning, and I had to get an AARP jump again. So, my first full day out since my illness became all about the Corolla and navigating around the obstacles of missing services. 

After Sam's Club informed me that it was not installing batteries during the pandemic, I tried the dealership. The service department said it was on a skeleton crew and could not get my car back until Tuesday. I considered taking the car in anyway, but getting a ride from Lyft or having Enterprise pick me up once I got to the dealer would be iffy. I didn't even know which transportation was available. I also called three other car repair shops. No answer. 

Instead of driving off to pick up a few items at Whole Foods, hit the bank, pick up mail, and shop at the second grocery store on my list, I drove my old Corolla to Firestone across from Whole Foods, hoped they were open and could do the work. They could, but due to Coronavirus precautions, seating at Firestone had been removed, which is how I ended up walking across Veterans Memorial Blvd. in the midmorning sun to Whole Foods not to shop but to find a place to sit down.

As I entered the store, I observed masked shoppers with their carts meandering from produce to flowers and soap to prepackaged food. A few people braved shopping unmasked, but store employees were PPE-ready. Wearing a variety of plain and designer masks, clerks quickly checked out customers.

I noted as well cafe chairs lining the store's front wall. Some were neatly stacked. Most were tied together. Not a good sign, but no way could I wander around the store indefinitely reading labels and being tempted by bake goods. I really shouldn't be on my feet for too long. Shopping my grocery list was also not happening. How would I get the bags back to my car?

I would have to ask to sit down, a minuscule request, I thought. Maybe they would let me wait quietly in a corner. I am an Amazon Prime member, after all, and as soon as my car was ready, I'd return with my grocery list.

I walked to the prepared foods section. Two women worked behind the counter of the temporarily closed cafe near the empty hot bar. Glancing at yet another line of tied chairs and spotting one off by itself, I explained my situation to the first woman who looked up. 

“Ma’am, we’re closed,” she said then hesitated.

With faces half covered these days, it's all about the eyes. Maybe mine relayed fatigue.

“But - - if it’s only for a few minutes to catch your breath," she said, "then okay.”

Grateful, I sat down, knowing I'd need more than a few minutes chair time. Shortly afterward, I left, heading to guest services, pausing only for a moment to look at the rotisserie chickens, an item on my list. I hoped a manager would hear my plight and decide it was better to let me sit and wait for more than a few minutes rather than seem insensitive. My hopes were soon dashed.

A young black woman listened to me at the guest services desk.

“I have a grocery list," I said, gesturing to my phone. "My original plan was to shop here first early this morning, but my car battery died and . . . ," I continued explaining my predicament, and then went for the ask, “May I sit until Firestone calls? It should be about an hour before they call about my car.”

Uncertainty in her eyes, she told me to wait and walked away to get a supervisor. I watched her in conversation with a thin, clean-shaven young, black man. He soon came over and apologized, stating Whole Foods policy about customers sitting during Coronavirus, I guess.

“But we’re not allowed to let anyone sit down, ma'am.”

I imagined their staff meeting on the store floor, envisioning a stern-faced, probably more mature manager pounding into employees, "Under no circumstances are you to allow anybody--I don't care how old or how long they've been a customer--to sit down anywhere in this store. Hear me?"

In unison, "Yes, Mr./Ms. Somebody."

"Now, wipe down those chairs and tie them up!"

Back to my reality I, nodded weakly at the young man. "Okay," I said, trying not to panic behind my mask and struggling to hide distress and irritation in my tone. My right ankle was already throbbing.

"I understand," I said, "but this is pretty crazy.”

Turning away, I remembered seeing a gray-haired woman earlier rolling past me in a motorized shopping cart. As I headed to the exit, I thought, I'll get in one of those and tour the store, but I couldn’t see myself riding aimlessly around Whole Foods for long. When I stepping outside onto the portico, I looked up at the whirling ceiling fans then over at the baskets. Three motorized carts sat idle right next to the door. They called to me, "Come. Sit. Rest that ankle and weary behind."

Ahhhh, I thought as I planted my wide hips in the first cart's comfortable seat and scanned my new environment for potential problems. I thought about reading from Poetry:  A Survivor's Guide by Mark Yakich, the book I'd tossed in my crossbody bag before I left the house. I unlocked my cellphone instead and settled down.
Fortunately, the Louisiana heat is not as hot as it could be this morning. Things could be worse. I viewed the store’s parking lot crowed with SUV's, BMW's, and assorted compacts. I took in the well-tended greenery and trees Whole Foods had planted. Not a bad fate for a Saturday morning given the first half of May. So, here I am, sitting and pecking out these words.

I am not outraged at Whole Foods' inflexibility, merely a tad peeved. I tell myself that some skirmishes are not worth the short time I have left on this planet. Who has the energy to fight illness and argue with giants at the same time?

Now and then the Whole Foods employees sanitizing the shopping carts glance at me. Now and then I glance back. Masked shopper after shopper enters the store. Others exit, holding paper bags of luxuries to their bosom. They cross the shaded portico into sunlight and onward to their vehicles.

Whole Foods delivery staff push out over-laden carts of bagged and thermally protected foods on their way to people hooked on Whole Foods or who refuse to pay InstaCart's mark up.

As I write, I stretch my neck and peep around warily at times. I probably look like one more baffled old woman. What if the manager comes out and sees I've figured how to defy store policy and sit anyway?
Someone goes by with an Amazon box. Its logo, the half-dimpled smile, passes me like "Hey, lady. Jokes on you." 

An Amazon Prime membership plus special privileges for seniors can only get one so far in the age of COVID-19 even at the Whole Foods.

Sunday, May 10, 2020

British Woman Foretells America's Future?


In February 2017, a woman from Great Britain visiting  Kentucky may have predicted a dark future ahead for the United States of America, Shot of Bourbon reports. But does it really take a psychic to figure that out. Can't an ordinary academic philosopher or history professor give the same warnings?

Saturday, March 21, 2020

Sanitize your hand sanitizer?

The coronavirus can last on surfaces, including cardboard, for up to 72 hours, a recent article in the New England Journal of Medicine says.

So, you’re at the pharmacy where you may have touched items an infected person touched. When you get to your car, you whip out your little bottle of hand sanitizer. If whatever you touched was indeed contaminated, then the virus may now be on your hands.

If it’s on your hands, then you probably transferred it to your little bottle of hand sanitizer when you took it out of wherever to kill the virus. Do you also sanitize your little bottle of hand sanitizer after you sanitize your hands?

If you don’t disinfect your bottle of hand sanitizer, you’re carrying around a contaminated item, so . . .

#crazy-making

Thursday, March 19, 2020

7 Tips to help you kick coronavirus stress to the curb

Yes, you can feel happier despite Covid19. Humans can hold dueling thoughts in their heads and survive. For instance, we have the ability to compartmentalization, and that’s not always a negative.

As one psychologist says, "Compartmentalization is not about being in denial; it’s about putting things where they belong and not letting them get in the way of the rest of your life."

Neuroscientists say there is increasingly more evidence that what we think and do shapes us well after childhood, but we must take steps to change our brains ourselves. Practicing a positive mindset can even boosts our immunity.

Here are some tips that I need to remember. Maybe they will help you, too.


1.     Play music that makes you want to dance. Uptown Funk and some old school R&B jams still get me going, Earth, Wind & Fire, Prince, Funkadelic, Marvin Gaye, etc. Maybe some disco or some Elton John, Beatles, and Led Zeppelin, too. This doesn't mean there aren't plenty of more recent songs out there to get you on your feet. 

2.     Fake out your brain by smiling. No, this not the, "Oh you're a pretty young lady, so smile more" patriarchal advice. This is science. Smiling can trick your brain:

o   "A smile spurs a chemical reaction in the brain, releasing certain hormones including dopamine and serotonin. “Dopamine increases our feelings of happiness. Serotonin release is associated with reduced stress. Low levels of serotonin are associated with depression and aggression,” says Dr. [Isha] Gupta. “Low levels of dopamine are also associated with depression.”

o   And there's more: "“What’s crazy is that just the physical act of smiling can make a difference in building your immunity,” says Dr. [Murray] Grossan. “When you smile, the brain sees the muscle [activity] and assumes that humor is happening.”

3.     Strike a power pose or victory, as illustrated in the photo with an image of 1970s Wonder Woman Lynda Carter and Amy Cuddy, chief promoter of “psych yourself out” poses on TedTalks. You can fool your body and mind into feeling better daily.

4.     Practice mindfulness also known as meditation. I like the guided meditations at UCLA Health. People who meditate tend to have a more positive mindset, and they are less likely to have as much cortical thinning, according psychologist Rick Hanson. Evidence indicates that people who meditate lose fewer brain cells than those who do not meditate. Also, cortical thinning, while part of the aging process, is linked to a lowering of IQ. The last thing you need in a crisis is a loss of IQ points.

5.     Avoid dwelling on negatives, meaning clear your head of resentments and regrets. Hanson says the practice of controlling where you put your attention is called “self-directed neuroplasticity.” Try replacing dwelling on your trials and tribulation with gratitude. Keeping a gratitude journal may be useful. Hanson asserts that we can “use the mind to change the brain to change the mind for the better.” Read Hanson’s tips about how we can “take in the good” here.

6.      Look for ways to help others, which prevents you from dwelling too much on yourself. Here’s the science, “The Secret to Happiness Is Helping Others.”

7.     Finally, take a good look at what you’re eating regularly. See this article: “Changing Your Diet Can Help Tamp Down Depression, Boost Your Mood

Saturday, March 14, 2020

"I don't care about your white feelings. I care about you."

Credit Honey Yanibel Manaya Cruz at Unsplash.com
The headline of this blog post comes directly from "The Confrontation" episode of Invisibilia, one of the many podcasts I subscribe to. You can listen to the show yourself. I've embedded the episode in this post.

As I listened to the episode, I recalled my 15-year-old self and wondered whether I would have survived the intense summer program for teens the show profiles. During two of my teen years at a predominantly white, exclusive and all-girls boarding school, I stayed pretty angry about both innocent and intentional slights resulting from baked-in racism. And I was not silent. Some girls started referring to me as "the little militant." Some clothed in wealth and whiteness called me "obnoxious." I spent a lot of my time meditating on that word, obnoxious.

Back then and earlier, I still wore my heart on my sleeve about everything. My mother, aunts, and grandmother counseled me often that I needed a thicker skin. But when it came to racist acts, their advice was more difficult to parse. I was as good as any white girl, they assured me and wanted me to stand up for myself -- yes -- up to a point, a very fine, complex point that I had trouble locating when angered. They also had an arsenal of rhetoric and stances they hoped I'd adopt.

From well-meaning white people, I often heard, "Don't take it personally," when they knew some other white person had been offensive. But in a country that assured me the color of my racial category is the most significant part of my identity, how could I not take racist behavior and remarks personally at age 7, 13, 16, and beyond.

Inoculation against the rage racism provokes takes years to cultivate. Decades may pass before you don't flinch. You struggle and grow until you believe in your bones, "It's not me, it's them. It's not me, it's their mindset, their system," and keep moving forward.

When dealing with individuals, however, my mother had one saying that's kept me from acting on anger. I apply these words to racist behavior and rhetoric consistently: "That person is very limited" in understanding, in scope, in vision, in intellectual potential and in empathy. So, if you see me observing someone acting ugly, know that's what I'm thinking in that moment.

Do Words Matter Anymore?

I'm not sure a program like the Boston program discussed in the episode would have worked for teens in the mid-70s. I think we would have "spoken our truth," fooled ourselves into believing we could change the world, and remained silent beyond the safe space of camp. Or maybe I only feel that way now because the world seems to be backpedaling and it feels like wisdom is losing.

We didn't have have words such as microagression in the 70s for behaviors stemmed in white supremacy. The word racist was not thrown around as much then as it is now. Critical race theory was not a codified, academic discipline in the 70s. The "race problem" was whittled down to the need for black esteem slogans, "Say it loud, 'I'm Black and I'm proud" or "Black is beautiful, so buy this hair spray for your afro." Far fewer people dissected institutionalized racism the way people do now and there was no Internet to transport their analysis virally.

I remember people calling the meaner and sometimes well-meaning white people simply "prejudiced" as though racism was a character flaw. "Miss So-and-So is so prejudiced!" What a weak word to describe behaviors, attitudes, policies, and laws that harm millions of people. But does greater accuracy in corrective rhetoric make any difference? The current divisions in this nation say, "No."

In the podcast episode, much is made of black people telling the truth and only the truth to white people, but the question arises, What good does telling your truth do if the people who need to hear it leave the room?


Invisibilia describes its episode "The Confrontation" this way:
Welcome to what is possibly the most tense and uncomfortable summer program in America! The Boston-based program aims to teach the next generation the real truth about race, and may provide some ideas for the rest of us about the right way to confront someone to their face. | To learn more about this episode, subscribe to our newsletter. Click here to learn more about NPR sponsors.
I would say more but you can listen for yourself.