Tennessee Principal Outs Gay Students

I woke up this morning to find this news. High school principal Daphne Beasley, Memphis TN, was tired of all the PDA happening on school grounds. (That's Public Display of Affection, for those not living with a middle/high school student. Or those of you who've escaped military influence.)

Ms. Beasley was none too pleased with the excessive PDA occurring within the vaunted halls of Hollis F. Price Middle College High School. (Middle College High School? What the hell does that even mean?) Ms. Beasley decided to take the public watchdog and humiliation route to address these nefarious goings-on. She asked her staff for the names of all student couples, in order to compile a list. All the better to keep an eye on the eager little darlings, my dear.

Problem is, she posted the list. Publicly. Teachers, students, custodial staff, la-dee-da-dee everybody could see who was joined in lunchroom liplocks. But wait, there's more! She'd also specified to the staff that she wanted both hetero and homosexual couples named, which means, of course, that The List outed some gay students.

In a high school in Tennessee.

I'm sure that made for a wonderful learning environment for the outed students. The students say they are now being "treated differently" by students and teachers. I just bet they are.

And Ms. Beasley didn't stop there. Apparently she also called the mother of at least one of the gay students, an 11th grader who'd just made the dean's list, and outed him to Moms as well.

Now, I'm all for high school kids being open with their parents. I'm reasonably sure my kids would be able to tell me should they be any version of "not straight". The Bohemian, in fact, hasn't quite nailed down what she considers herself. Whatever. Labels schmabels. But we are a progressive household in the Seattle area. There are many out gay couples in my kids' high school. I would venture to say it's not as big of a deal here for those students who choose to come out. Not that those kids don't have to deal with ignorance and prejudice - of course they do - but there is a good deal of support in this area, should a student choose to come out at school.

I'm not foolish enough to think that every family or high school environment is going to be supportive for a young gay person. The parent in me thinks yes, I'd want the school to tell me what's going on with my child, but that may not be advisable or even safe in every situation. Did that principal stop to think about the consequences of her actions in calling those parents? Did she talk to the student beforehand? Did she think about the effects on his life? You don't know how those parents are going to react. That kid could end up getting his ass beat or being kicked out into the streets. Hey, it happens, it's not that far fetched. Even if not, coming out is a big deal. How these parents experience The Big Revelation will likely have an effect on their reaction to it. I'm betting that kid would've liked to have some control about how he came out to his parents, classmates and teachers.



This student was scheduled to go on a school trip to New Orleans to help rebuild houses. After the posting of The List, he was told by a teacher that he would no longer be going, due to the possibility he might "embarrass the school by engaging in gay affection."

Are you kidding me?

What this kid wanted to engage in was some public service, being a responsible and contributing member of society, caring about something bigger than himself, building community. You're going to tell a kid who just made the dean's list and who was going to rebuild houses in a place our own president has all but abandoned, that his services aren't necessary because he has a boyfriend?
So, according to this teacher, being gay is supposed to be the negative aspect in this young man's life? What effect are those words, that rejection, going to have on this young man, on this member of our society?

You know what? This kid is not "embarrassing", but Principal Beasley's actions are. That teacher's comments are. Shame on them.



I was talking to the offspring about this story. Okay, ranting. Whatever. Teen Demon made the point that it wasn't fair to any of the kids, gay or straight. She said in her school there are kids from traditional Asian families who are not allowed to date, even in the upper grades. If those students were "outed" to their families, it could be disastrous for some of them.

Again, I'm not advocating teenagers keeping major secrets from their families, but hey, things aren't always how we wish they were. In the example Teen Demon brought up, say you've got a good student, a 17-year-old kid who has a boyfriend -- one whom she basically sees only at school -- and this kid gets "outed" simply by virtue of being "part of a couple", whether she has engaged in PDA or not, because some principal put her on a list ... that doesn't seem right.

Male Offspring wondered about kids who may be falsely identified as being part of a couple. What if the staff is wrong in their presumptions?

Seems to me that a little PDA is part of high school life. Come on, did Ms. Beasley never swap saliva by the gym lockers? Yes, there are limits, and yes, students should practice at least a minimal level of decorum. We're talking affection, not pop, lock, and dropping. If things get to that point, seems to me it still could've been handled in a more constructive way.

Seems to me the decision to come out is a personal decision, not one for the schools.

"But It's 2007!"

It seems ignorant comments are not just confined to my son's history class.
(Read "Yes, Virginia, People Still Do Say That Shit", if you haven't yet.)

So this is a list of local situations that I've seen personally in 2007, in case anyone still is clinging to the notion that racism is over.

Male Offspring, while fully expected to excel at sports, did not receive the IB* application packet when the other kids did. This despite the fact that he took sophomore math and honors science in the 8th grade. Despite the fact that both sisters are/will be succesful IB diploma graduates.

(*IB = International Baccalaureate, an international honors program.)

No one could tell me why. Something in the IB coordinator's "Sorry about that, but the deadline has passed now ... he can try next year, though," gave me the feeling they just wanted me to quit asking.

Next year? Excuse me? He's supposed to jump into this program after missing the first year? And then you'll wonder why he's not successful? No. Fuck that. Fuck you. He earned his place same as those other kids, he's going in this year.

Thank goodness for his counselor. We got him in through the back door. He'll have his shot.

But I've learned that it is part of my privilege that I am listened to and often see results when I go to address an issue at the school, and even that I have that expectation. (Often there is visible relief when I show up to deal with a situation.  "Oh!  So ... YOU'RE Male Offspring's mother!  Okay!  Sooo nice to meet you!") Many, many parents of color I've spoken with do not experience the same results when they address things. In this case, the parents of color I talked with said they didn't even know about the IB application, let alone the deadline.  This says something about who receives information. And who doesn't. If it weren't for the fact that I'd already fought to get my girls into the program, I wouldn't have known that this opportunity existed for Male Offspring.

They are usually the only black students in their IB classes. And I had to fight for that.


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There is an African American girl in Teen Demon's class who is the personification of school spirit. She is student body president, is involved in school clubs, and one of the few black kids in IB. Her grades started to slip; she was stretched too thin with all her activities. She was told to consider moving to regular classes. That's a message about the expectations for her.

Another girl, a white girl, actually wanted to drop IB. School was not her biggest priority, she wasn't involved in clubs, sports, or activities. She actively attempted to move to regular classes. Not only was she encouraged to stick with it, they did not allow her to drop out.  Let me say that again:  they did not allow her to drop out. She eventually did, but those adults had expectations of her; they fought for her, they encouraged her, despite the fact that she wasn't even interested in the program.

The first young lady was not encouraged. They did not fight for her. In fact, she was told maybe IB "wasn't the place for her," even though she had three years of that program under her belt, even though she contributes to the school in many ways. There were expectations for her as well.  Fortunately, she is not living down to those expectations.

Same school, same program, same teachers and administrators.  So even being class president isn't enough to overcome the disparity in treatment and in expectations here.  What the hell, people?


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The Radical Bohemian somehow got marked in the school's records as "white". This means her grades - excellent - were being credited to the white category as far as school performance. This pissed us off, as she was one of only two black students in the IB program for her year, and now her performance was being credited as a white kid. I asked both the school and the district how that had happened.

Apparently, when we moved here, there was no provision for bi/multiracial students. You checked one box, and one only. So she didn't check any. (These days she just checks black) Well, it turns out that,

Caucasian is the default.

What? I'm sorry, did you actually just say "Caucasian is the default"? No shit, we knew that; I just didn't know it applied to my daughter's school records as well as to life in general. I was told by a different person:

Oh, she's such a good student. Since you didn't check a category, someone probably looked at her grades and her WASL scores, and made a judgement call.

Are you fucking kidding me? So ... let's see if I've got this straight:  good grades + good standardized test scores + IB program = Caucasian kid? I don't think so. Unconscious bias, anyone?


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A Latina student was asked in Spanish class last week, where her family was from. She'd been taught her family history and Chicano history since she was a little girl. She is also shy, not one for speaking up. This though, was one area she knew, and she confidently told the teacher her grandparents were from the northern part of Mexico. The teacher looked at her name again and replied, smiling,

No -- Spain! Look at your name. Your family must be from Spain.

then she turned to the class and said,

Do you know why I say that? Because _________ is fair-skinned, and her last name is Spanish. Mexicans have the influence of the Indians, so many of them are dark-skinned.

All the kids in the class turned to look at this young lady. Surprise.

Are you kidding me? How arrogant. This teacher, who, by the way, speaks the most awful, gringoized Spanish I've ever heard, has the audacity to correct this child about where her family comes from, AND throw in some fucked up racist incorrect shit on top of it?

That young lady later said she felt stupid in front of her class. Like she didn't even know her own history. How do you undo that feeling?

My son has the same teacher. He says she has asked other students with last names like Garcia and Sanchez, why they are in her class. "Why don't you already speak Spanish?"  What?  Look, lady, do you speak Swedish?  No?  Why the hell not?  Explain yourself.

This is the most qualified individual the district could find to teach Spanish? You seriously expect me to believe there was not a more qualified native speaker who could teach Spanish? And you think there's not been a need for affirmative action?

In fact, I'd suggest that this one local situation is a great example of how our system has included automatic affirmative action for whites since before we even became a country. In addition to being ignorant about her field of study, this teacher (whom Teen Demon also had for two years) is not even an effective instructor in her field. But she's the one they hired, she's the one who gets to teach the Spanish language to kids in this school. Hello, people, the white kids lose out too, in situations like that. That means your kids too, they're getting fucked up, substandard information in classrooms like this, all across the country.

Is it any wonder US folks in general are abysmal at speaking other languages?


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This same student, last spring, went on a field trip to the UW. Her mother put the trip together on her own, after finding out that the colleges only recruited from honors classes, and that a whole group of Latino kids had never been exposed to a college campus. The girl was fired up after the trip. This shy young lady got her nerve up and actually asked the school club administrator how to go about setting up a Latino Students Club. The advisor told her this:

I'm not sure that's such a good idea. It's not inclusive, you know? I mean, what if a white student wanted to start a white supremacist group here on campus? How would that make you feel?

Really? Are you fucking kidding me? An adult in this school actually compared a Latino Student Club to a white supremacist group. A hate group. What message does that send this student about the value of her culture? What does that say about the level of awareness we accept from the people in positions power? And why was this person permitted to take that action which is against the school handbook/policies on starting up student clubs? We can have a prayer group and a Young Republicans club, but not a Latino Club?

So between those two incidents with this particular student, what do you think the chances are that she, with her already shy personality, will take another chance on speaking up? What is the lasting impact on her? And without that club she wanted to start, what are the chances that she'll even find any support or understanding in the school?

(She did, eventually start the club. She had to fight for it, she had to bring in allies, but it's there now. It is very popular, and the young lady is coming into her own through the business of running it.  She's winning.)


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An individual in a high position in my area took a group of her (white) staff to the Central District of Seattle in order for them to "learn what it's like to be a minority". I'm serious. So they trooped in for a meal, and now, apparently, they understand what it's like for, say, a student of color to be the only one sitting in a white classroom. Really. That hour is somehow equivalent to living a lifetime with a constant awareness of your environment behind the history of being black in this country? That must've been one hell of a meal.

Oh, and they also, apparently, have increased their cultural understanding with collard greens!

This was relayed to a group of black women and a Latino man in that well-intentioned way that suggests the person expects approval or even accolades for her actions. Or a cookie. The person relaying the story did not pick up on the reactions of the group. She truly thought she had done a good thing, and that she's ready for diversity work now.

More harm than good here, people.  This lady and her cohort may conclude that since they were fine on their dinner outing, a black kid in a white classroom should be similarly fine. If he's not fine, they may see it as his fault, because after all, they managed when they were the "minority". For an hour. They may be even less willing to listen to voices of people who do live this stuff every day, because now they "know from experience".

Sigh.

So now, how to deal with that person, and her staff, who are in positions to affect things for young people? Her good intentions have made the work even harder for those around her, and she has no idea.


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So yeah. These are just a few of the things I've personally seen or heard about, the kinds of things still happening in 2007. These are the things that well-intentioned people say and do. It happens a lot.  This is just a sampling.

And it wears a kid down after a while.

Yes, Virginia, People Do Still Say That Shit.

So here's what happened to my son in history class the other day. First off, preface this with the fact that my son is the only black student in all of his IB* classes -- a fact he noticed the first day of school.

(*IB is the International Baccalaureate program -- a worldwide honors program. The US is pretty new to it. The number of US schools offering it is limited, but growing. I chose this particular district specifically for IB, as it was the closest I could get to the education the kids had been getting in Hungary. Students of color are underrepresented in IB, African American kids in particular.)

Okay, so Male Offspring is taking Non-Western IB History this year. (the non-Western part is something, at least.) Last Thursday, the teacher is giving the lesson about how human life originated in Africa, the migration of the peoples, yada-yada. One young lady raises her hand and says it makes sense that life would've begun there, as it's

warmer there, and stuff can probably grow better than in a cold place.

OK, she's getting her reasoning skills on. She continues with,

Plus, black people have the really broad foreheads and noses. They look like monkeys, so it makes sense that they would've come first, since they're the ones closer to monkeys.

Oh, yes, she did.

And every child in that classroom turned to look at my son.

Because that's what happens when you are the only person of color in the classroom. At that moment, my son was not "Male Offspring", he was "the black kid in class".

My son could not tell me what the teacher said in response. He said he was shocked, everyone was staring at him. He said the teacher looked stunned and didn't really know what to do. She did say something to the girl, but he couldn't tell me what.

He said all he could hear was noise in his ears.


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Now, I know there are a lot of folks living under the shiny illusion that this shit doesn't happen any more. People invariably respond with, "That's terrible! It's 2007!" Well, it happened in my kid's classroom last Thursday. If you're surprised by that, either your kid is white, or you don't live in this country.

I met with his teacher. Like you all didn't see that coming. A friend who works me in the parent group and who knows Male Offspring came with me.

We thought she was a student. No joke, people. This is her second year of teaching. She graduated from this very high school in 2001. She was like, soooo totally young! I had some assumptions and biases of my own, my first thought (besides "Holy shit, she's not a student?!) being "Oh, this little girl is not going to be able to handle this situation." I had to check myself, however, as we talked.

I had an idea about how to address what happened -- more about that in a minute -- but I wasn't sure how that was going to go. I can imagine if I were a teacher in her position, I might be nervous about meeting the parent. I might feel defensive or embarrassed. So I thought maybe she'd see any suggestions on my part as a judgement, as overstepping into her area.

She didn't.

I tried to get across how that felt for my son, the history behind that remark, the fact that he had no allies in that classroom who understood. Yes, other kids were shocked, thought it was wrong, but no one really understood. And no one spoke up.

I asked how she had initially responded to the young lady in question, and actually I think she did pretty well for being a new teacher caught off guard with such a loaded comment. Better than certain veteran teachers I know, that's for damn sure. Also, I should've said earlier that she did apologize to my son after class, and admitted to him that she hadn't quite known what to do.

I told her that SHE was my son's ally in that classroom, she has to be that for him, because every kid looked to her for direction on how that situation was going to go down. I told her I did not hold her accountable for what comes out of a student's mouth, but I do hold her accountable for addressing it. I fully expect her to have my son's back in that classroom.

I thought Miss Thang would get defensive or make excuses or gush about how she toootally understood. She didn't. Girl may be young, but she's sharp; I'll give her that. She looked me in the eye and said "Okay. That's my position, then." All right. She also said, "Obviously this student has missed some things we've been talking about in class. That says to me it's time to reteach."

It's time to reteach. Go on, girl.

I went into the meeting with 3 objectives:
1) I wanted the student to know her remark was inappropriate and hurtful, and I wanted her to get the correct information so she hopefully won't be spouting that shit again.
2) I wanted the other kids in the class to get the correct info, and to have an example of how to address comments like that.
3) Most important, I wanted my son to come away from this feeling empowered, not humiliated. I wanted him to know that he does not have to accept those statements, and I wanted his expectation to be that the adults in life will address that shit immediately.

Anyway, Miss Thang was on board with all of it, she wanted to learn how to be prepared for the next time. Which was a nice change. I told her my idea:

I wanted his class to see Race: the Power of an Illusion, a three-part PBS documentary.

Part I involves a high school science class in which the students do DNA swabs and blood pricks, then type their DNA. Before they get the results, they form hypotheses about whom they believe they'll be most closely linked to genetically.

Not surprisingly, they predict along racial/ethnic lines; the black kids believe they will be the closest, genetically speaking, to other black kids, the white kids predict they will be most like other Caucasian kids. Ditto for the Asian and Latino kids.

The results, of course, come back the opposite of what they'd thought: one African American young man finds he is genetically most similar to a blond, Russian classmate. A Caucasian student finds that in addition to having a 100% match with someone in the Balkans (which he expected, given his family history), he is also a 100% match for an African individual, which he did not expect. Another white student is most similar to an Asian girl in his class.

The film goes on to talk about race being a social construct, and the history behind that. It talks about the two migrations of people -- the first dying out, the second being modern humans. ALL of us. It covers how we all came about on the same timeline, that there are no separate species of humans, no lines from an earlier time, no group that is more/less advanced, and how any visual differences are a result of geographic adaptations after migration, not from genetic coding.

In other words, none of us are closer to monkeys than any of the rest of us.

Basically, it breaks it down in scientific terms that race has no biological basis; no gene, or group of genes, is common to a particular race. Race cannot be identified genetically. I was surprised to learn that there is twice the genetic variation between two penguins -- which, to my eye, look identical -- as there is between any two humans.




But ... past science did make a false connection between genes and race and intelligence, past science was used to purposefully construct the social aspects of race. In fact, the film covers how the Nazis actually had used US racial research to form their bullshit theories.

We all know how that turned out.

Here's the thing:

If a particular group of people can be shown, according to "scientific evidence", to be savage, to be less intelligent, less capable of self-governance -- closer to animals than your own group -- how much easier to justify taking their land and confining them to reservations? How much easier to rationalize enslaving those who are less than human? How much easier to convince ourselves that beating, lynching those who are "closer to monkeys" is necessary to keep them in line? That selling them as property is okay? How much easier is it to send those who are "inferior" to concentration camps? How much easier to justify Jim Crow laws, miscegenation laws, if some folks are shown to be closer to animals than others?

Pretty damned easy, according to history.



So the monkey comment, besides being incorrect and ignorant, has a whole shitload of history attached to it, even still, today. If you think the monkey comment was no big deal, that particular bit of history most likely does not apply to you and yours.

My son will remember that little girl opening her mouth and ignorance falling out, he will remember every eye in that room turning to him. He'll remember hearing nothing but white noise roaring in his ears while the teacher struggled to address it, struggled to find something to say to this girl.

Something that wouldn't humiliate her too much.

He will remember that time in 9th grade history class when his classmate said black people look like monkeys. He'll remember how that felt. And he will be fully aware of the history behind that belief, enabling it to still be voiced in 2007.  He will also remember he has a voice.


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Afterward: (ha, look at me trying to play author and shit.)Miss Thang showed the film to all her classes. She had the kids write their ideas of race before the film. Afterwards they wrote how the film did or did not affect their views. She said it went well, that she was encouraged by some of the kids' papers.

She said she'd like to incorporate that film into her classes every year. She's going to bring it up to the science teachers, and try to put something together with them for later in the year.

And for the record, no, that is not the usual response.

I was impressed with Miss Thang, and yes, I checked myself on my own assumptions that I'd formed upon seeing her bouncy blonde ponytail and wide-eyed. perky smile. I learned a lesson too.

So, my son will not forget this experience, it will leave its mark; but he will also remember that the adults in his life dealt with that shit, and he'll be more prepared next time. He'll remember that his class learned that shit is not okay and not correct. And hopefully, he'll remember that a little change was made in his school as a result of addressing that ignorant remark.

Taking on the Man

Okay y'all, wish me luck. Today is the big day when my fledgling parents' group meets with the school district superintendent and his minions. We've been working our asses off for this meeting. It's a grassroots group. It started off with a few of us sharing our stories, and realizing how many stories were out there, and how many "isolated incidents" were not isolated incidents at all, but a reflection of a systemic lack of awareness of the issues that students of color deal with every day. The more parents we spoke with, the more commonalities emerged.

Each parent thought it was "just them". In each case, the child was seen as the "issue". The commonalities were too blatant to ignore, though, and the kids are the ones internalizing this shit. It's amazing what's been going on with these kids! None of us knew the big picture until we started digging and talking to other parents, hearing their stories.

Anyway, it's been been me and three other women organizing this. This is on top of us all being single moms/aunt to teenagers and working. Yeah. Monday we put four hours in. Yesterday, three more. I spent the weekend doing a power point presentation. Last night I wrote the summary after the airport, got to bed about 0230, then got up to go with the son to freshman orientation at the high school.

Orientation -- please. I was expecting to get some actual information, but the "parents' activity" was coffee and muffins in the staff lounge. What? I don't have time for chatting over muffins, are you kidding me? Where's the friggin' information? I got pressured to sign up for the opening BBQ, some bake sale, some other fundraiser, some ticket selling thing -- hello, been there, done that, working single mom now, thank you. I don't have time to bake for my family, let alone some function. I also got hear about where so-and-so had bought her cute bag; how Sally was SO devastated about not making cheer, and she was better than that other girl anyway; how so-and-so misses her husband so much and doesn't know HOW she'll survive with him being gone for a week on business! She doesn't work. Please. You can't handle a week without your man and you don't even go to work? Buck up, honey, you'll live, I promise. I was out of there in five minutes.

I do digress. This was supposed to be a quickie. And you all know how good I am at brevity. (Stop the fake coughing JP, I see you.)

Anyway, today's the meeting, I ditched the orientation and am going over my summary. How I got stuck with the damn summary I have no idea. Well, yes I do. Let the white girl do it, she's less of a threat to white men in power, they'll listen to her. Which is sadly true. "If a white person notices racism, then it must actually be true, because they don't have 'ulterior motives' or a 'chip on their shoulders'."

It "goes down easier" coming from another white person; this has been documented. Which is ridiculous, because really, I'm not the one who has the innate understanding/experience to explain this shit. But, I've seen how it works: person of color starts a dialogue about his/her experience with racism; white person's sphincter immediately tightens, s/he goes on the defensive, secretly thinking that the PoC has "pulled the race card" and is "too sensitive"; white person either clams up and nods with a tight smile, or attempts to explain to the PoC why they have not actually experienced racism, they have in fact simply misunderstood, or been overly sensitive.

I really hate when white folks try to tell folks of color what racism is and isn't.

Okay, y'all, I know I'm on about this stuff a lot. I know some of you may be like,

Damn, Cowbell, lighten up, can't we all just get along? I never see this stuff going on. Pull the racism stick out of your ass and get back to writing about how your mom wants you to marry a preacher!

I know it sounds soapboxy to those who don't have to live with it or see it going on. I realize this.

You all think I just woke up one day and say, hey, I'm going to all of a sudden get a stick up my ass about racism and white privilege! That would be fun! No, it's not fun at all. What happened is that I see the effect on my kids, subtle and blatant. Particularly since my son has been hit with the puberty stick -- folks' perception of him has changed before my eyes, which breaks my heart and pisses me the fuck off. (He's good, he's kind, he's a kid for godssake, don't be scared of him, he's not going to steal your stupid greeting-card-store knick-knacks, bitch.) I see the bullshit in the media. I hear the comments. I see how it is subtly woven through our institutions. And when I talk to other parents, I hear stories worse than mine. Much worse.

My kids are kids of color, but the reality is that they are riding the coat tails of my white privilege. A teacher may make an assumption about my son, may send him out of the classroom while smiling at his white buddy who was also talking in class. To my son. When I show up to talk about it, the look of relief is plain to see, ("Oh, YOU'RE Mom! Whew!" Because I will "understand", I will not "be difficult".) On the phone, the administrators may not want to put my son in advanced classes, may not want to answer my questions about why I didn't receive the application packet in the mail. When I walk in though, when they see me, suddenly he is of the caliber to qualify for these classes.

Their perception of his home life, his support, his ability is suddenly different.

On the other hand, boy do they value his ass on the football field, the wrestling mat, the track. They are sending my son a message about where he is valued, where he is expected to excel.

My experience in the school principal's office is much different than the experience of my friends of color. Which is bullshit.

Goddamn but I do digress. Sorry.

Anyway, I'm doing the summary, in order to avoid the clenched-sphincter phenomenon brought on by "playing the race card." Well, these boys don't know it, but I'm about to pull the white card on their asses. I am going to connect with them on their level. I am going to talk about how, as white people, we are not born with an awareness of this. I was not born knowing about this. I floated along for years, blissfully unaware of what other people were living every day. I had to learn it. It was my responsibility to learn about it, in order to effectively parent my children. And the district has that same responsibility to educate themselves, because our children are their students. It's their school too, and they deserve to be appreciated and valued for who they are, not for how effectively they can assimilate into the dominant culture to avoid problems. Not for how well they learn to suppress that shit.

Anyway, they think they can "relate" better to me, okay, I'm expecting something from them. So we'll see how it goes. It's been a lot of work, and the damn overhead projector had best be working right.

[Climbs down off soapbox.] I really do suck at brevity, don't I?

A Photographic Tribute to My Camera: Around Town

Various shots from around Seattle.

Houseboats



Heart Rocks



Birds at Sunset




The 60s Live On in Fremont




Folk Life Festival



Fountain Fun



Dancers at Folk Life


Joy
(I just loved these guys)



Hell & Damnation



Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence
(Bat-n-Rouge softball game, Dykes v. Drag Queens, Pride kick-0ff)



Our Favorite Drag Queen
(The only one to run the bases in high heels! Go, girl!)



Clouds
(Photo credit: the Male Offspring)



Pike Place Market



Post Alley



Piano Practice
(Summer 05)



Sunset at the Beach

Naked Bikers or Drag Queen Softball?

I have a conflict this weekend.

This Saturday is the Fremont Solstice Parade, part of the annual Fremont Festival.

1) It is a Solstice celebration. Enough said.
2) Awesome food
3) Car art competition -- handpainted crazyass cars.
4) Bikers costumed only with paint.
5) Republicans usually won't get within 2 miles of it.










Also scheduled for this Saturday is the Bat-n-Rouge softball game, to kick off Pride.

Drag Queens v. the Dykes. Enough said.


How the hell is a person supposed to choose? What the hell were the softball teams thinking? The Solstice Parade? Are you kidding me? What group would play opposite that, other than the Young Republicans?


Dammit.

Some Serious Shit About Coaches

(In which I bow down to coaches and use the word "blessing")

This is important, even if you aren't into the whole sports thing. This is about coaches, and how important they are to kids growing up in this country.


Young people need role models. What with Dubya, Paris, R. Kelly, movies and MTV, the future leaders of this country need some real-life folks to point them in the right direction.

Coaches are bringing it, every day. I can literally see a difference in the way my son carries himself this year. Much of that came directly from sports. Good coaches are a blessing, y'all.

Those of you who know me just now choked to see me use the word "blessing", didn't you? (Please, I could hear the what-the-hells from here.) Well, the only other word I could come up with on the fly that conveyed what I'm thinking was "godsend". So yeah, coaches are a blessing. Goddamn right.

They don't get paid much, and some are straight up volunteers. They give so much more than just instruction. They are mentors for these young folks. They are modeling good sportsmanship, responsibility, commitment, and teamwork.

Life skills, here, people. Skills we actually use day to day, unlike sophomore algebra.


I appreciate that several of my son's coaches in particular have been wonderful models for healthy male-to-male interaction. For those who think sports coaches must be big into that stereotypical, macho bullshit, I have not seen it here. These guys have been hands-on with the kids; they hug these kids, put their arms around them, hold their faces and look them straight in the eye while telling what they've done right and what they can work on. They say things like,

I love you man; you pulled it out today!

I couldn't ask for any more from you.

I am so proud of you!

That's okay; you know you're still my boy. You'll get it.

You gave your best; that's what we do.

Way to apply what you learned!

You had good form out there today.

Things that build a kid up. I see my son and his teammates hug each other, and walk with an arm over the other's shoulders. I see them stick together off the field, help each other out.

Female athletes are still working on equal sports status with the men. They still have to deal with being called "The Lady Muskrats/Wildcats/Pelicans". They don't get cheerleaders or assemblies. Coaches don't give a damn about that; they're coaching athletes, not girls. I see the difference in my daughter, because they actually have a high jump coach this year, one who really cares about the kids. It means a lot to her. I hope he's here again next year. (Cross your fingers that he gets that teaching job ...)


And may I also add, while I'm at it, that I especially appreciate the African American men who are stepping up to mentor these kids. Kids of color in our district do not have many mentors who look like them. The images they see in the media and in their own school environment are mostly White.  Well, the positive images are, anyway. African American males face a lot of issues unique to them. That's a whole'nother post, but suffice it to say that when puberty hits and these kids don't look like little boys anymore, people react to them differently. They need positive role models who look like them and who have an awareness of what they're experiencing. The White kids need to see positive Black role models too. Again, another post. Anyway, to the African American men in our community who take time out of their lives to purposefully guide these kids, I appreciate that. Very, very much.

Coaches make a difference.

They show up.

As a single mom, I appreciate the hell out of that.

Gatorade A.M. and The Smiling Milkman

Am I the only one wondering what the hell is up with the new Gatorade A.M. commercial?

So last night, I look up to catch a commercial featuring a smiling Black milkman à la 1930, resplendent in his spotless white uniform, cheerfully delivering bottles of new Gatorade A.M. to customers in a manicured subdivision, all to a jolly tune reminiscent of ice-cream-truck-sounding jingles.
(watch it here.)

I quickly unmute the TV, causing Firstborn Daughter to look up, annoyed at the sound of a dreaded commercial.

Me: Are they kidding? What is this?
FBD: Wow ... what the hell?
Me: Is it just me?
FBD: Um ... seriously, what the hell?

The final line of the commercial goes like this:

Gatorade A.M. -- same science, different time.

And how, Spanky!

The milkman is the very talented (not to mention good-looking) NBA star Kevin Garnett. I don't much follow basketball, being a football kind of gal, but evidently Kevin is the shit on the court.

Gatorade A.M is a new line created for the perky morning athlete. It comes in morning-friendly flavors, like Strawberry-Orange or Mango, that supposedly won't make you upchuck its sugary sweetness while still bleary eyed and half-asleep.

Coffee is a normal morning drink. Orange sugar-water is not.

Anyway, The milkman's customers are other sports stars -- three female soccer players (one of whom looks to be Mia Hamm), and Colts quarterback Peyton Manning -- all White, all rushing out to their morning workouts.  There is one Black neighbor (Kareem Abdul-Jabbar), out watering his lawn, who nods to the milkman.

So ... the only African Americans in this idyllic production are the only two athletes not portrayed as athletes, but rather as an iconic 1930s milkman and the only guy in the neighborhood doing yardwork.  The white athletes are portrayed as the superstars they are.

So the milkman comes up the walk with his syrupy wares as Peyton Manning rushes out the door for his morning workout. The milkman calmly throws him a Gatorade A.M. while saying, "Playbook."

Oops! Peyton's forgotten his playbook! As he rushes back for it, The milkman gives a satisfied nod, knowing he's helped keep the star quarterback on track. WTF?

Now, I'm thinking, Kevin Garnett is an NBA superstar, on the same level as these happy, suburban athletes, right? He is their peer, their equal. Given that, I'm wondering...

• Why is he playing the milkman?
• Why is he serving the other sports stars?
• Why are he and the Black neighbor the only athletes not being portrayed as athletes?
• And while we're at it, what's up with the lone Black neighbor doing yardwork, instead of heading for a workout with the other athletes and some Gatorade A.M.?

Am I the only one thinking this ad is just a little too close to the ads of yore? Something a little like this, maybe?

Why did this commercial immediately put me in mind of those days when success for Kevin would've likely meant a dapper chauffeur's uniform?  Or maybe a snappy bellhop or porter's uniform.

Or a pristine milkman's uniform.

Success for Kevin in those times would not have come packaged in an NBA uniform, trust.

I did not live in those times. My daughter sure didn't. My mom barely has memories of the milkman leaving glass jugs in the secret little door at the side of my grandma's house.

Why then, did that scene immediately bring a "WTF?" reaction? Why did that scene cause my 19-year-old daughter's jaw to drop?

Because ... those images are part of American culture, and we have absorbed them in a million little ways over the course of our lives. Even now.

The earliest posters and advertising purposely depicted Black folks in ways that made White folks feel superior and safe. From the wide-eyed pickaninny, the broadly smiling mammy, and the harmless old uncle, up to the first "positive" images of the "successful" Black man: smartly attired to happily pump your gas, tote your luggage, or wait on your table.

"Different Time" indeed, Gatoraide.

I know lots of people are going to roll their eyes and say this commercial isn't racist. Golly, how some people sure do look for racism around every corner! I'm sure folks will say, "Hey, good for Kevin, do that commercial, make some bank, baby."  And of course, the usual, "If it were a white guy in the truck, you wouldn't be bitching -- you're the racist!"  Well, guess what, it wasn't a white guy in the truck. And it wasn't a non-athlete serving a diverse group of athletes. So, whatever.  

I don't know Kevin's reasons for doing this commercial, and I guess it's his business. I'd be interested in his thoughts about it. I do plan to write to Gatorade. I am really bothered by seeing this in the media in 2007 like it's nothing.

I have a 14-year-old son who's into sports. It's enough of an issue that our media loves to present athletes as the main role models for African American kids. (Yes, great role models, but they're not the only ones, okay?) Now Gatorade has gone one step farther in presenting this fine athlete not as the successful basketball player he IS, but as a friggin' milkman, in a position of servitude to his fellow athletes, complete with all the trappings from those Happy Days Gone By.

This is what my son is supposed to see as the role of a successful Black athlete? Are you fucking kidding me?

You suck, Gatorade.

I just wanted to point this out, say something, because this is not okay. Rant over.

Rock On, Senator.

My daughter heard Barack Obama speak. Shook his hand. And, perhaps best of all, had the perverse pleasure of shoving past a FOX news reporter to do so. Go, baby. She skipped Arabic class and took the Metro to GMU in Virginia to watch history in the making.

That's pretty goddamn exciting.

She reports he is a magnificent speaker. He is also left-handed, which she promptly added to her list of things they have in common: biracial, single mother, went to school in another country with another language, left handed.  "We're practically twins", she stated. In the spirit of Senator Joe Biden's recent comments, I guess she could add "so well-spoken" to the list.

This is just one of the many Very Cool Experiences she's had since leaving the Left Coast for Howard U. in DC. She's but a stone's throw from W. and his minions. In fact, she was at the White House just last weekend for an anti-war protest. She walked with a group from the NOW headquarters, and also helped them sort through all manner of interesting hate mail from pro-lifers, which was evidently entertaining as hell, and definitely not carrying Christian messages of love. ("Jesus hates you!" Seriously?)

I don't know yet if Senator Obama is the best person for president, and I don't know if America is ready yet to finally cross race and/or gender lines in the White House. What I do know is that Barack Obama, while surely inspirational to a great many people, is especially and critically inspirational to my daughter, in a way that John Kerry or Wesley Clark could never be for her. Barack Obama means it's possible.

For her.

For people of color. For people from single-parent households who went to public schools. Barack Obama means that maybe important qualifications are things like activism, principles, integrity, and vision, and not things like privilege, or your great-greats coming over on the right ship, or a family legacy at some fancy-ass academy with a brick wall around it where boys will be boys and the headmaster golfs with Grandfather.

Barack Obama in this election means another barrier knocked down. A big one.

Senator Obama is fighting to squeeze through a pinhole in that glass ceiling, and better yet, he's got company. With Hillary Clinton and Bill Richardson throwing their hats in the ring, we could see the nation's first Black, female, or Latino president. What do you know, we've got a diverse hiring pool for the job of commander in chief! About time. I hope they smash the fuck out of that glass ceiling.