Sunday, March 30, 2008

Déjà Vu: 40 Years After the Kerner Commission


The summer of 1967 again brought racial disorders to American cities, and with them shock, fear and bewilderment to the nation.
The worst came during a two-week period in July, first in Newark and then in Detroit.
Each set off a chain reaction in neighboring communities.
On July 28, 1967, the President of the United States established this Commission and directed us to answer three basic questions:
What happened?
Why did it happen?
What can be done to prevent it from happening again?”

REPORT OF THE NATIONAL ADVISORY COMMISSION ON
CIVIL DISORDERS (New York: Bantam Books, 1968), pp. 1.


Little did I know when I wrote by last two blog posts on the lack of domestic social policy in the U.S. today that those posts would coincide with the 40th anniversary of the Kerner Commission Report (U.S. Government Printing Office, 1968). I did not know that the admonitions and observations I expressed were mild compared to those of the Commission but equally ignored by those in power.

The Kerner Commission Report reminds us that as the country becomes more widely divided by class and our government’s attention is not focused at home (Vietnam in the 60’s and Iraq today), we become increasingly vulnerable to political dissatisfaction, civic unrest and at the extreme end of the spectrum, civil disobedience. This phenomenon, according to the Kerner Report, occurs without the aid of any organizing entity. The only conspiracy is that between lack of responsible public policy and increasing human suffering.

The report is a cautionary tail that all Americans should heed. It acknowledges that when the people are ignored, when the country’s leaders have no vision are pre-occupied with their own personal demons and expend their time, our treasure and our lives outside our boarders, we put ourselves at risk. We are once more on the precipice of the same conditions. I ask the question again: What about us? Have we learned nothing from our history? The summary of the Kerner Commission Report follows. Read it with care.

“I read that report. . . of the 1919 riot in Chicago, and it is as if I were reading the report of the investigating committee on the Harlem riot of '35, the report of the investigating committee on the Harlem riot of '43, the report of the McCone Commission on the Watts riot.

I must again in candor say to you members of this Commission--it is a kind of Alice in Wonderland--with the same moving picture re-shown over and over again, the same analysis, the same recommendations, and the same inaction.

These words come to our minds as we conclude this report.
We have provided an honest beginning. We have learned much. But we have uncovered no startling truths, no unique insights, no simple solutions. The destruction and the bitterness of racial disorder, the harsh polemics of black revolt and white repression have been seen and heard before in this country.

It is time now to end the destruction and the violence, not only in the streets of the ghetto but in the lives of people.

REPORT OF THE NATIONAL ADVISORY COMMISSION ON
CIVIL DISORDERS (New York: Bantam Books, 1968), pp. 1-29.


After WWII, hundreds of thousands of black families poured into northern cities to escape, the scourge of overt racism and Jim Crow. They were greeted with “good jobs” with plenty of overtime and you didn’t have to have any paper (a degree) to get a job. And boy, the money was good! The unions saw to that! The Black middle-class began to grow. The heavy industry that employed thousands gave rise to the growing numbers of the Black middle class. These jobs along with government employment at every level had brought back the hope that Black men could be real men in this newly integrated country. They could be real men who could give the gift of a better life, education and an easier life than theirs to their children. Racism was still present but it was subtler, more insidious and not so much “in your face.” We were willing to live with that.

Though we rejoiced at the passing of the Civil Rights Act in 1964 and became fully enfranchised by the Voting Rights Act in 1965. Our reverie would not last long. Just as we were about to get a leg up, they moved the ladder.

Many of us remember the long hot summers of the mid to late 1960’s. Racial tensions reached a zenith during these years. Cities became virtual tinder boxes ready to ignite at any moment and with good reason. Dr. King was exhorting us to exercised discipline and gain strength by continuing to practice non-violence. On the other hand, the seeds of Black Power were being sewn and we saw the emergence of Malcolm X exhorting Black people not to take it any more and the infancy the Black Panther movement that embraced the community but advocated for assertiveness and pride among Black people. Feeding and teaching children to be proud as the Panthers did was revolutionary. It scared white America to death.

Despite federal legislation and the presence of effective black leaders, segregation persisted. It was seemingly intractable. Lynchings continued in the South. Police brutalized black men for recreation in the North. And we were virtually still powerless to do anything about it.

Over the course of less than a decade, thousands of black men in Detroit, Cleveland, Newark and across the nation found themselves standing on street corners, sitting on stoops and under shade trees from sun up to sundown seeking respite from the stifling heat of their unair-conditioned homes and apartments and the accusatory glances of their wives. Wives and mothers who knew if a man was not working, trouble would soon follow. Both, mothers and fathers sought respite from the bewildered looks on the faces of their children who wondered why Daddy didn’t go to work any more.

They had no work and no place to go because manufacturing and assembly jobs were moving away from central cities to the suburbs leaving behind the empty, hulking shells of once productive of automobile and steel plants, lost tax bases and fewer services for neighborhoods.

The exodus was deliberately aided by the policies of the federal government. VA loans and FHA loan guarantees were plentiful for returning white soldiers but often denied the Black ones and the new Interstate highways made fleeing the city all the more attractive. It was so extreme that some neighborhoods turned from white to black seemingly overnight. The forces of racism and fear were unstoppable as realtors and bankers engaged in “block-busting,” i.e., spreading rumors that blacks were moving into the neighborhood to frighten whites into selling. It worked.

As whites fled the inner-cities following the jobs to the newly built suburbs and, in their minds, escaping to safety, Blacks who had succeeded in their struggle to better their lives moved into the newly available homes in city neighborhoods. Beautiful black communities emerged filled with hard working, disciplined, aspiring Black people who just wanted what every other American wanted--to realize the American Dream. They built businesses, churches, institutions social and fraternal organizations. Life was good for us in that fleeting moment in history.

Soon, however, rifts began to develop in the Black community. No longer segregated in ghettos where rich, middle-class and poor people all had to learn to live together and self-regulate their society, class began to become an issue among Blacks. Poor people grew poorer and more desperate. Federal welfare policy was undermining poor Black families and forcing fathers and men out of their family homes in order to receive assistance. The Black middle class tried to separate themselves from poor blacks as did whites. Neighborhood barbershops and bars across the county were alive with debates over the seemingly divergent approaches of Dr. King and Malcolm X. The fabric of the community was straining at the seems.

Poverty and infant mortality rates among blacks were triple and quadruple those of whites. The high-rise housing projects built in the late forties and fifties as transitional housing for vets and widows with children had become vertical ghetto prisons for poor Black people. They were worse than the tenement slums they were built to replace during the federal governments urban renewal efforts. At least back then you could go outside.

Crime was rampant and heroin was the drug of choice. The police forces of our nations cities were still largely segregated and most cops did not live in the cities they were responsible for protecting. Police brutality was the norm, not the exception. Police protected and served themselves more often than not at the expense of Black men. Many city police departments were riddled with corruption with cops in cahoots with the very criminals, mayors and other government officials, white and black who were destroying communities either with their actions or in refusing to take action and looking the other way. Money bought protection and power. We just didn't call them "lobbyists" back then.

So, it should have been no surprise when racial confrontations escalated into full-scale urban riots in Newark, New Jersey; New York City; Cleveland, Ohio; Washington, D.C.; Chicago, Illinois; and Atlanta, Georgia; and Detroit, Michigan.

Today, Blacks make $.60 for each dollar similarly educated and experienced whites make. Black infant mortality this at least three times that of whites. Black men and boys are 455 times more likely to be incarcerated that white men and boys. The gulf between the haves and have nots is growing across the board. Children are graduating from public high schools unable to read. Crack babies are growing to adulthood. Now, I ask you: where is the war to be fought? Homeland security is at risk. Our government’s incompetence and some would say negligence in responding to hurricanes Katrina and Rita brought the crisis at home into sharp relief. We are the new Western front. All will not be quiet for long.

“Reaction to last summer's disorders has quickened the movement and deepened the division. Discrimination and segregation have long permeated much of American life; they now threaten the future of every American.

This deepening racial division is not inevitable. The movement apart can be reversed. Choice is still possible. Our principal task is to define that choice and to press for a national resolution.

To pursue our present course will involve the continuing polarization of the American community and, ultimately, the destruction of basic democratic values.

The alternative is not blind repression or capitulation to lawlessness. It is the realization of common opportunities for all within a single society.
This alternative will require a commitment to national action--compassionate, massive and sustained, backed by the resources of the most powerful and the richest nation on this earth. From every American it will require new attitudes, new understanding, and, above all, new will.”

REPORT OF THE NATIONAL ADVISORY COMMISSION ON
CIVIL DISORDERS (New York: Bantam Books, 1968), pp. 1.

We had the will to attach Iraq. We have the will to spend $12 million a month to prosecute that war. We found $30 million to bail out Bear Stearns yet we leave the war at home largely un- or under funded. Time is running out. The dominoes have already started to fall.

See the following links to learn more about the battles to be fought here at home on the fronts of health, economic opportunity, family stability, education, affordable housing, race and ethnicity, public infrastructure, the environment, global warming, disaster preparedness, etc.

Peace,

Yvonne

www.eisenhowerfoundation.org/docs/kerner.pdf (Kerner Report)

http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/fastats/black_health.htm (Centers for Disease Control)

http://ncmhd.nih.gov/hdFactSheet_gap.asp (National Institutes of Health)

http://www.covenantwithblackamerica.com/ (Covenant with Black America)

We Knew


You knew. I knew. We knew from the start that the end was near.
You know. I knew. We knew that your life was too full to include me.
You knew. I knew. We knew that despite all that what we felt was real.
It was immediate. It was physical. It was mystical. It was ethereal.
It was almost palpable.

It was as if we’d known each other all our lives.
We shared the same history.
We talked on the phone for hours about politics, history, religion, world affairs and cursed like sailors. We said what could not be said to any other.
It was as if we’d been talking together for ever.

You made me smile. You made me laugh. You made me feel alive.
You made my soul sing a song unsung before.
You knew me and loved me still.
I was unique, independent and challenging but you loved me anyway.
I felt safe with you.

With you I felt beautiful.
With you I felt valued.
With you I felt joy.
With you I felt strong.
With you I could not be defeated.

I knew. You knew. We knew that time was our enemy.
I knew. You knew. We knew that forever did not belong to us.
I know. You knew. We knew that circumstances would overcome us.
We loved each other anyway.
And now, it’s over.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Domestic Social Policy Part I: What About Us?

Remember when President Clinton’s campaign discovered that “It’s the Economy, Stupid!,” and then build a successful presidential campaign around that core understanding? Well, as far as I can see we’re back in the same place again. Only this time “It’s Domestic Social Policy Stupid!”

I am a Barak Obama Democrat. I am a delegate for Barak and one of his biggest fans. His speech last week in response to the criticism of his pastor Rev. Wright was simply brilliant! The Dallas County convention is this Saturday and I plan to stay all day. It should be very interesting if the precinct caucus is any indication! (Look for a “Hot Mess In Texas: Part II this weekend.)

However, despite my enthusiasm and commitment to Senator Obama, I am and have been for the last decade or more very disappointed by the lack of attention to domestic social policy in the U.S. In other words, we “changed welfare as we know it” during the last Clinton administration but where did all the poor people go!

Perhaps I’m hypersensitive since I’ve spent most of my career working with people of color and poor people in the inner city. But we act as if they no longer exist. What happened to issues that drove us as we strove to act like the richest country on earth making sure that we at least tried to create opportunities and resources so everyone had a chance to succeed? What happened to us?

What happened to the homeless? Is there a “chicken in every pot?” Is no one in the U.S. going hungary. Is college affordable? Are there youth recreation programs to keep kids out of trouble if they don’t happen to be affluent? Is the Community Development Block Grant going to be funded at a reasonable level again so we can use the money to help the communities (low-moderate income) that it is designed to help instead of diverting it to municipal projects? What about affordable housing and job training. Even if college were affordable not every one needs to go.

What about us?

I know we are almost inextricably bound to Iraq now. There’s just no way around it. However, we live here, we live now and we can’t pay our mortgages. The Federal Reserve Bank just bailed out Bear Stearns. Drive-by shootings have begun again in earnest in Los Angeles after years of relative calm. Make no mistake: These are mere symptoms of an ailing society. What about the war at home?

I may be naive but, $12 million a month could go a long way toward addressing these and myriad other issues that face us all. Do not think for a moment that you can run and hide. We are only as strong as the weakest link. Those links among us have become so weakened from neglect that I fear they are about to break along economic, race and class lines and no one, not even Barak seems to be paying attention.

Barak knows about these things. He’s lived in these communities. He’s been broke. The question is does he still remember how it feels it and most importantly, will he walk the walk when it comes to taking on domestic social policy. What about us, Barak?

Domestic Social Policy Part II: Where the Po' People At?!

I don’t know why I keep raging against the machine and charging at windmills. All I know is that I feel an emptiness in America despite Barak and the chance we have in November. However, I cannot help but wonder, what about us? I wonder what about those of us outside the middle-class that is so important in this and all former campaigns in recent memory. Where the po’ people at? Is there a “safety net? Does anyone care?

Although I fully support and believe in Barak Obama's capacity to lead, inspire, persuaed and succeed, I continue to be grossly disappointed by the seemingly cavalier dismissal of domestic social policy from the political dialogue (with the exceptions of Ron Paul and Dennis Kucinich) of the multiple challenges and increasing difficulties facing the majority of poor people, homeless people, abused people, people of of color or different ethnicity and the mentally ill.

They have not vanished in "the Rapture." They are here and effectively disenfranchised from the process that is, deliberately or not, organized in ways that keep the dispossessed of our society from having a voice.

I was listening to Marvin Gaye lately. I love Marvin. The thing is everything he said in the seventies and eighties is still true. I am somewhat dispirited by that fact. I feel like James Baldwin Living in Another County” and waiting for “The Fire Next Time.”

It’s really disturbing to live in a metropolitan area as prosperous as Dallas and see people living in literal shanties (think South Africa) in South Dallas.

I guess I’m just a bleeding heart liberal. But at least I have a heart and a mind and a spirit that tells me that “we have seen the enemy and it is us.”

Will we ever learn?

Peace,

Yvonne

Sunday, March 9, 2008

OOPS! What Happened to My Website!


Words to live by: Lord, please don’t let me do what I know better than. Did I heed them? Of course not! I did what I know better than and am paying the price. Technology is a beautiful but delicate thing. More words to live by: If you really don’t know what you’re doing with website programming, leave it alone.

I don’t know what I did or how I did it but my website, YvonneSparks.com disappeared or at lest I can’t get it to upload. It’s my fault for trying to do something I know better than. I don’t really know how ftp and/or atom for managing websites so I should have left things alone. As it stands, I tried to link this blog to blogger.com and now my website won’t show up except at my .mac site.

For the record, Mac tech support doesn’t know what happened or how to fix it either. That at least, is some comfort. I don’t feel like a total idiot.

I hope you miss me. That would be even more comfort. Let me know.

I have to get to work reconstructing my site now. More later.

Peace,

Yvonne

Tired of Being Alone


I’ve never written poetry before except as a school assignment, but this is what I feel today. Truly, madly, deeply--is the kind of love I want to feel. It’s been hard for me to express these feelings before because I have always felt the need to compromise and be self-sufficient. I am not. For reasons heretofore not expressible I feel compelled to release my true desire for a life-partner.

I would love you as a woman should love a man.
I would nurture your soul as you would mine.

Our bodies would become one, naturally and willingly.
Your desire would become mine and mine yours.

I would love and like you as you would me.
I would respect your nature and spirit as you would mine.

I would respect and nurture who you are and you me--even if it meant being apart.
I would respect and and embrace your history and potential as you would mine.

My soul would become attuned with yours and yours with mine.
Our lives would be devoted to making a difference in this world.

True love would be ours with the full understanding that challenges will arise.
True love and our faith will equip us with strength--persevering to remain in love and like forever.

We will still love and, more importantly, like each other as we age together.
“I will still need you and I will still feed you when we’re 64.”

"Texas Two-Step" Twist


(Originally posted 3/5/08 the Day after the Texas primary and caucuses.) When I first moved here to Texas I kept hearing people use the phrase, “a hot mess.” It took a while for me to understand that it meant that something was not only disorganized but that more than likely it was rotten at the core. After my experience at last nights’ presidential caucus, I now know exactly what the the phrase means. If we’re lucky, someone will discover the rotten core and make sure that those responsible are held to account and that the results of election are scrutinized closely.

Hopefully someone is paying very close attention to what can only be called the “Texas Two-Step Twist.” They euphemistically call it the Texas Two-Step because it is a sort of a dance you must perform in order to ensure that your vote counts in the delegate allocation process. Not only do you have to cast a vote you must return to your polling place after the polls close to caucus and effectively vote again for your candidate, e.g. two steps.

The twist part comes from the fact that last night people had to be contortionists in order to vote in the Texas presidential primary and make sure their vote counted for delegate purposes. The most disorganized, poorly supervised and disrespectful exercise of the voting process that I have experienced in over thirty years of voting was rife with opportunities for corruption. (Believe me I’ve seen some doozies but nothing like this!)

Election officials all over the region openly admitted to voters that they did not know what they were doing--they had never done it before. That being the case, my fellow-voters and I were puzzled that there were no written instructions for election officials or for voters. Not only were there no instructions but there were no signs to direct people to the right place. Many polling places had no public address systems so instruction were often garbled, misunderstood, passed from person to person (we all know what happens with that) or not heard at all. Election officials and caucus chairs were standing on tables and chairs in order to be seen and heard. In other cases, voters had to take charge to bring some order to the process. Common sense was in short supply in caucus rooms all over North Texas.

The litany of curiosities is long and disturbing: Polling places were changed at the last minute (one or two days before the election; Voter education was almost non-existent consequently, voters didn’t understand the process; There were too-few voting machines; The process for the election of caucus officers was inconsistent across precincts; Caucus signature-gathering processes varied from precinct to precinct; Some precinct captains didn’t know how many delegates they were alloted.

Who knows how many people were denied the right to caucus. My guess that there were many. I also guess that perhaps equally as many signature pages were lost and/or destroyed because they were allowed to float around the caucus rooms from person to person with no election official supervision and then were not secured in any way when they were completed and before the official count.

At some polling places people were forced to stand outside in the cold for hours before being allowed to vote or caucus. Some got tired and left. Those who stayed were met with procedural maneuvering in efforts to halt voting and manipulate the caucus process with motions and procedural votes with which they were unfamiliar. In many cases, the rooms were so full and noisy that few people were aware that any procedure was taking place at all.

In my polling place people who had voted but forgot their voter registration cards when they came back for the caucus were told by election officials that they did not have adequate records on site to provide them with their registration numbers and to just put a check-mark by their names and they would fill in the number later. Huh?

Well, it was my first experience with this and I ended up becoming a delegate because I want to follow this process to the end. I was aware that Texas is one of the most politically corrupt states in the nation but I have a feeling that all the stops will be pulled out this time. This is just the beginning. We know that Republicans were instructed to caucus for Senator Clinton and did. The idea is that Hillary will be easier to attack than Barack.

At any rate, I hope I make it as far as the statewide cause in Austin if not to the national convention in Denver. I hate politics but these are historic times. I want to be part of it.

Letting Go Means Letting Go

“Nobody loves me everybody hates me guess I’ll go eat worms!”
That’s a song we used to sing at camp. It’s how I felt today when I gave a moving sale and nobody came. I had some good stuff too!
Oh well--their loss. However, I think there is a more cosmic aspect to this. You know I had to have it.

(Originally posted 2/23/08) Yes, I get it. If you’re letting something go, you have no right to expect to be rewarded for doing so. Just let it go. So, after a week of getting up at 5:00 a.m. every morning to sort, haul and move the crap I’m keeping to the new apartment (15 car trips!) and this morning to make sure that the boat-load of crap I’m letting go (i.e., selling, I thought) was organized so that buyers could flow through my four showrooms and that items were priced to sell--nobody came. Only my business partner and her husband showed up. The were there there to help with the brisk sales traffic--ha! (Thanks Hope and Erich--for not making fun and sticking it out!)

And--wait for it--the cosmic lesson is--LET IT GO! Let it go for real with no expectation of a return. That’s the point after all. Just move on, call your family, friends and the thrift store, get a receipt and let it go! Geeeez! O.K. I’ve got it now and I’m letting it go for real. The ROI is my freedom from 30 years of crap and that’s enough for me.

Peace,

I’m out.

Yvonne