Eric Holder was Right!

Exactly one month ago, Attorney General Eric Holder sparked a maelstrom of white outrage.  As usual in sound-bite America, the media focused on a single phrase: “In things racial we have always been . . . a nation of cowards.”

You can find the full text of Holder’s remarks here, or scan the abbreviated version pasted below. 

Holder was talking about Black History Month.  Instead of dishing out the usual bromides about the contributions of great black Americans, the Attorney General lamented the fact that black history is too often segregated from “real” American history.  Although Holder didn’t put it this bluntly, the basic idea was that white Americans are uncomfortable talking about black history because the subject hooks the distressing side of white history.

White Americans are ahistorical because they can’t face the hard truth.    “Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all.”  Ergo, we are a nation of cowards.

Isn’t this obvious to everyone?

Apparently not.

The pattern is familiar.  A black leader makes an undeniable assertion (white folks don’t like to talk about America’s racial history; America’s chickens are coming home to roost, etc.) and white people go apoplectic.

I just returned from a speaking engagement in Ottawa, Canada sponsored by the African Canadian Legal Clinic (the Canadian version of the Legal Defense Fund).  History hung thick in the air.  The horrors of slavery, apartheid, Jim Crow, and European colonization dominated every conversation, every key note address and every panel discussion.  The views expressed ranged from common sense moderation to full-blown Afrocentrism, but everyone was talking history all the time.  When event organizers gathered for drinks at the end of the day they talked about the subject with passion, conviction and a lot of gallows humor.  If a white guy happened to be at the table, so much the better.  There was always a chance I’d learn something.

White people don’t talk about racial history.  When we do we emphasize the great strides we have made.  Our ancestors made some big mistakes, no doubt; but all wounds have now healed, all wrongs have been righted, every valley has been exalted, and all’s well in the world. 

Which means that when black people dwell in the past they are just hurting themselves.

When we consider the career trajectory of an Eric Holder or a Barack Obama it is easy to buy into this ahistorical narrative.  When a black man can become president or attorney general, how bad can it be, really?

But when we move to the lower rungs of the social ladder this rosy portrait fades to white.  Why are so many people of color mired in poverty?  Why are inner city schools so abysmal?  Why do so few poor black children have two parents?  Why is the unemployment rate among young black males so high, and why must black people speak of the “just-us system”?

Now we are face-to-face with history.  Can we drive a wedge between these ugly facts and the legacy of slavery and Jim Crow?

Sure we can.  Black people, it is argued, fail due to laziness, broken families, drug addiction and ignorance. 

Solutions to these problems, from the dominant white perspective, have nothing to do with the past and everything to do with choices made in this present moment.  The power of positive thinking (the real religion of America) is tied to the liberal dogma of inevitable progress.  Every day in every way we are getting better.

Because this is so, the best way to ease racial tensions is to ignore them.  The less said the better.  Time, that munificent elixor, will heal all wounds.  Bad things happen when you remove the bandage and start picking at the scab.

Such pablum passes for serious discourse in our post-racial America.

In other words, Eric Holder was bang on target.  Americans in general, and white Americans in particular, are so afraid to talk about racial history that we silence every suggestion that present suffering is linked to past injustice. 

I hope Attorney General Holder sticks to his guns.  We need to get over our ahistorical miasma.

After three days in Canada, I returned to the United States via rental car.  At the border, after a two-hour wait, I finally got to talk to a customs official.  I have a gift for getting in the slowest line and this time was no exception (all the other lines were moving twice as fast as mine).  This meant that I would be talking to a guy who enjoyed his authority far too much.

After bombarding me with a series of questions designed to detect deception, the unsmiling officer asked what I did for a living.  “I direct a non-profit organization,” I replied.

“What’s your organization called?”

“Friends of Justice.”

The man winced noticeably.  “And what do the ‘Friends of Justice’ do?”

“We work to protect due process in the criminal justice system.”

For the first time the man swung his head in my direction and established eye contact.

“Oh, so that means you on the side of the criminals.”

It was a statement not a question.

I desperately wanted to engage the man in conversation, but the power differential between us and the folks waiting in line behind me argued for the better part of valor.   That, and the fact that the authority junky I was talking to now works for Barack Obama. I took real pleasure in that observation just as I rejoice that an Attorney General of the United States can say something like this:

The link between the black experience and this country is still evident. While the problems that continue to afflict the black community may be more severe, they are an indication of where the rest of the nation may be if corrective measures are not taken. Our inner cities are still too conversant with crime but the level of fear generated by that crime, now found in once quiet, and now electronically padlocked suburbs is alarming and further demonstrates that our past, present and future are linked. It is not safe for this nation to assume that the unaddressed social problems in the poorest parts of our country can be isolated and will not ultimately affect the larger society.

 Couldn’t have said it better myself.

Remarks as Prepared for Delivery by Attorney General Eric Holder at the Department of Justice African American History Month Program

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

One cannot truly understand America without understanding the historical experience of black people in this nation. Simply put, to get to the heart of this country one must examine its racial soul.

Though this nation has proudly thought of itself as an ethnic melting pot, in things racial we have always been and continue to be, in too many ways, essentially a nation of cowards. Though race related issues continue to occupy a significant portion of our political discussion, and though there remain many unresolved racial issues in this nation, we, average Americans, simply do not talk enough with each other about race. It is an issue we have never been at ease with and given our nation’s history this is in some ways understandable. And yet, if we are to make progress in this area we must feel comfortable enough with one another, and tolerant enough of each other, to have frank conversations about the racial matters that continue to divide us. But we must do more- and we in this room bear a special responsibility. Through its work and through its example this Department of Justice, as long as I am here, must – and will – lead the nation to the “new birth of freedom” so long ago promised by our greatest President. This is our duty and our solemn obligation.

 We commemorated five years ago, the 50th anniversary of the landmark Brown v. Board of Education decision. And though the world in which we now live is fundamentally different than that which existed then, this nation has still not come to grips with its racial past nor has it been willing to contemplate, in a truly meaningful way, the diverse future it is fated to have. To our detriment, this is typical of the way in which this nation deals with issues of race. And so I would suggest that we use February of every year to not only commemorate black history but also to foster a period of dialogue among the races. This is admittedly an artificial device to generate discussion that should come more naturally, but our history is such that we must find ways to force ourselves to confront that which we have become expert at avoiding.

 This will be, at first, a process that is both awkward and painful but the rewards are potentially great. The alternative is to allow to continue the polite, restrained mixing that now passes as meaningful interaction but that accomplishes little. Imagine if you will situations where people- regardless of their skin color- could confront racial issues freely and without fear.

Our history has demonstrated that the vast majority of Americans are uncomfortable with, and would like to not have to deal with, racial matters and that is why those, black or white, elected or self-appointed, who promise relief in easy, quick solutions, no matter how divisive, are embraced. We are then free to retreat to our race protected cocoons where much is comfortable and where progress is not really made. If we allow this attitude to persist in the face of the most significant demographic changes that this nation has ever confronted- and remember, there will be no majority race in America in about fifty years- the coming diversity that could be such a powerful, positive force will, instead, become a reason for stagnation and polarization. We cannot allow this to happen and one way to prevent such an unwelcome outcome is to engage one another more routinely- and to do so now.

 The civil rights movement of the 1950’s and 1960’s changed America in truly fundamental ways. Americans of all colors were forced to examine basic beliefs and long held views. Even so, most people, who are not conversant with history, still do not really comprehend the way in which that movement transformed America. In racial terms the country that existed before the civil rights struggle is almost unrecognizable to us today. Separate public facilities, separate entrances, poll taxes, legal discrimination, forced labor, in essence an American apartheid, all were part of an America that the movement destroyed. To attend her state’s taxpayer supported college in 1963 my late sister in law had to be escorted to class by United States Marshals and past the state’s governor, George Wallace. That frightening reality seems almost unthinkable to us now. The civil rights movement made America, if not perfect, better.

In addition, the other major social movements of the latter half of the twentieth century- feminism, the nation’s treatment of other minority groups, even the anti-war effort- were all tied in some way to the spirit that was set free by the quest for African American equality. Those other movements may have occurred in the absence of the civil rights struggle but the fight for black equality came first and helped to shape the way in which other groups of people came to think of themselves and to raise their desire for equal treatment. Further, many of the tactics that were used by these other groups were developed in the civil rights movement.

 And today the link between the black experience and this country is still evident. While the problems that continue to afflict the black community may be more severe, they are an indication of where the rest of the nation may be if corrective measures are not taken. Our inner cities are still too conversant with crime but the level of fear generated by that crime, now found in once quiet, and now electronically padlocked suburbs is alarming and further demonstrates that our past, present and future are linked. It is not safe for this nation to assume that the unaddressed social problems in the poorest parts of our country can be isolated and will not ultimately affect the larger society.

There is clearly a need at present for a device that focuses the attention of the country on the study of the history of its black citizens. But we must endeavor to integrate black history into our culture and into our curriculums in ways in which it has never occurred before so that the study of black history, and a recognition of the contributions of black Americans, become commonplace. Until that time, Black History Month must remain an important, vital concept. But we have to recognize that until black history is included in the standard curriculum in our schools and becomes a regular part of all our lives, it will be viewed as a novelty, relatively unimportant and not as weighty as so called “real” American history.

Perhaps the greatest strength of the United States is the diversity of its people and to truly understand this country one must have knowledge of its constituent parts. But an unstudied, not discussed and ultimately misunderstood diversity can become a divisive force. An appreciation of the unique black past, acquired through the study of black history, will help lead to understanding and true compassion in the present, where it is still so sorely needed, and to a future where all of our people are truly valued.

Thank you.

3 thoughts on “Eric Holder was Right!

  1. Malcolm Gladwell, in “Blink,” talks about how when screens started to be used for orchestral auditions (so the person’s appearance wouldn’t be a factor), the number of women in orchestras went from 5% to almost 50% in a couple of decades. Prior to that, the judges just didn’t think women played as well, and their conclusion reflected their unconscious bias.

    Gladwell also mentions the idea of doing jury trials like this. The defendant could answer questions by instant message from another room.

    If you don’t think you have any bias, do this test https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/demo/ and you will be amazed. Most Americans who take the test have a slight, moderate, or severe bias in favor of whites!

  2. I asked around the time he gave the speech, “Why is everybody upset with the man? He didn’t lie on anybody, did he?”

    Well.

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