#759 Musings Beyond the Bunker (Tuesday September 26)
Good morning,
The thoughts expressed in this Musing are a work in process. Here goes:
Why are Barack Obama, Trevor Noah, Rashida Jones and just about every mixed-race American considered Black? After all, they are half-white, yet they are not considered white and are rarely described as being of mixed race.
The easiest answer, and one that carries with it considerable truth, is that racism has always categorized those as mixed-race as not being a member of the majority/privileged race. When the majority “sorts” people, those who are “impure” are relegated to the vilified minority. Certainly, this is consistent with the Black experience throughout Jim Crow and the Nazis’ calculus for determining who was Jewish. To the Nazis, if one had only one Jewish grandparent, one was considered Jewish and subject to the approbation, deprivation, and death they meted out. This conclusion as to “Jewishness” was made regardless of belief, observance, or personal identification.
RACE AS A DEFINING POSITIVE
There is another way of thinking about the race or ethnicity of a person that is focused on choice, rather than the label applied by society. This notion might seem inconsistent but actually can coexist with the exclusionary categorization applied by racists. Because people in specific ethnic groups historically were discriminated against and were not permitted access to “white majority,” they turned exclusion into strength. They were forced to identify more deeply with “their people.” One can see this in the Black Power movement (many of us can recall the slogan, “Black is Beautiful”), organizations like the Knights of Columbus, and various Jewish fraternal organizations. Rather than rejecting the majority’s classification of them as “the other,” they turned it around. What became exclusionary developed into the creation of new streams of culture, grounded in their minority status. Vaudeville, stand-up comedy, musical comedy, dance, jazz, and the blues all were grounded in the subcultures of minority groups that eventually took hold and became essential manifestations Americana. Exclusion led to a study and veneration of their background, cultures, traditions, and religious practices. Being labeled as a part of a minority group forced them, in a sense, into “membership” in a subgroup of society that shared not only the inequities suffered by that group, but also the benefits of a rich heritage and collective pride.
I have a Protestant friend who once told me that he envied those who belonged to an ethnic group—whether Jewish, Irish, Latino, or Black—because they were not part of a vast nondescript majority group. How great, he said, to enjoy the benefits of being an American, while at the same time enjoying the uniqueness of peoplehood with a smaller, more intimate, group. Consistent with my friend’s conclusion, I have always felt happy both to be a flag-waving American and to be a Jew.
NOT IDENTIFYING WITH A SMALLER SUBGROUP OF SOCIETY CAN LEAD TO DANGEROUS PLACES
I tend to think that a partial explanation for the white anger about displacement in an evolving economy and increasingly diverse society is the struggle to identify with a subgroup and, with it, the pride associated with such membership. Certainly, the current populist wave contains in it a search for a white culture and someone who “speaks for them.” But white Protestants are hardly a minority and, while sharing religious affiliation, lack a central narrative story that is unique to them. The American story is one that, while heavily enmeshed with white Anglo-Saxon Protestantism, belongs to all of us.
In order to claim the American story uniquely as their own, white supremacists and the MAGA movement look to sanitize the American narrative to exclude the contributions of other “impure” subgroups. How else can one explain the movements to exclude the study of slavery and racism, or the study of the Indian Wars, or the study of our historic anti-immigrant practices in our schools? And why the push-back against ethnic studies (which I maintain, taught without political indoctrination, is just an extension of American Studies)? There seems an underlying fear that the whiteness of the American story will be usurped by “others.” This, of course, is precisely the point. It should be embraced by all, as we muddle through together. I think Hamilton—The Musical was such a hit not only for its artistic brilliance on multiple levels, but because it thrust various minority groups into the center of the action, claiming the extraordinary story of our founding as their own.
THE SALOONS OF THE OLD WEST
There was a time when many white Americans identified with the countries of their origin. Examples of this continue to this day with communities in Pennsylvania rooted in their German background, southern European towns in Iowa, and Scandinavian communities in the upper midwest. Anaheim, the home of the Angels and town of my childhood, originally was a German community.
People tend to think of settlers in the old West as drunken slobs, hanging out in a plethora of saloons and getting in gunfights. What they often fail to note is that saloons were cultural hubs for white Americans of various backgrounds. It is true that the number of saloons per capita was high; this was because these places were not merely watering holes. They were the social media hubs of their day. People would come by the Polish saloon or the German saloon or the Irish saloon and hang with their “people.” People would post messages on the wall to family members and friends, staying in touch with those who were passing through and utilizing those passing through to convey messages. As the years have passed, identification with the country of one’s heritage has declined, offering nothing in its place. So what happens when that’s gone?
IDENTIFICATION AS A MEANS OF DIMINISHING OTHERS
While members of minority groups can identify both with the majority culture and their own culture, those in the majority who seek a notion of “peoplehood” often will draw their uniqueness from being different from minorities (i.e., better) and somehow anointed with a privileged position in society that appears to them diminished when any other group rises in stature. That way of thinking can manifest itself in racism, an identification with “pure blood,” and exclusion of others.
After the identification with country of origin waned, other social connections emerged in its stead. There was a time when predominantly white middle class America found subgroups with which they could identify. This included sports leagues and service organizations like the Elks, Kiwanis, Lions, and Optimists. In rural America, it included the 4H and farming guilds. Each of these organizations had their own lofty credo and worked to support local charities. These organizations allowed people to identify with something greater than themselves—a club with a purpose. They still exist, albeit with a lesser profile. It may be time to reenergize the American tradition of service organizations and, while we’re at it, create more sports leagues. In addition, perhaps it is time for a new awakening to church affiliation and the communal and civic aspects that attend such an affiliation. Given the recent attraction of the study of genealogy, 23 and me, and other websites, perhaps people will reacquaint themselves with forebears who came here in the 1800s.
JEWISH DILEMMA?
I consider being part of a minority religion to be a blessing. One needn’t be a “true believer” to be part of the Jewish story. It is as much about history, tradition, music, and shared experience as it is about religion (and perhaps more so). Today, nearly 75% of all Jews marry outside the religion. That’s not a bad thing; in fact, it may well be a blessing in disguise. Many of these couples adopt some level of Jewish affiliation. Perhaps this is in part through the desire to participate with a discrete and supportive group that identifies with you as “family.”
Even with this encouraging factoid, I worry that this identification with peoplehood may be waning—not just for Jews but for other groups. I grew up in a community that was largely comprised of Catholics and Mormons. Each had their identity and a sense of pride with their religious affiliation. It was part of who they were. I think that as/if identification with ethnicity or religion wanes, some amount of the strength, identification, and sense of belonging will fall away. Plus, call me reactionary, but I think we have something of a responsibility to maintain the peoplehood that our ancestors worked hard to maintain and that helped guide them.
It takes work to maintain an ethnic or religious identity. If one doesn’t water a plant, it will die. If one doesn’t choose to incorporate one’s peoplehood into one’s life, eventually that important connection will die. If one doesn’t actively look for opportunities to engage with one’s religion or ethnicity, then one is surrendering a history and a culture to the majoritarian culture. To be clear, there’s nothing the matter with being part of the larger group of Americans, but one sacrifices the benefits of the additional peoplehood—a special club, if you will—that binds you to others in a more intimate relationship.
There are those who say that they let the chips fall as they may—”let the kids decide,” for example. That’s all very well and good, but remember that one must incorporate one’s heritage, traditions, and stories into the home in order to allow that choice to be an informed decision. Regardless of one’s choice, one will always be party to and will experience the majority culture—it is the default position. Its symbols are all around us. I am not at all concerned by, or offended by, residing in a that wider culture. Crosses on hilltops don’t bother me—they are evidence of community and faith. Indeed, the majority Christian diverse culture in which we live has enriched my life in many ways. I still recall from my elementary school chorus days the words of most Christmas carols we were taught in school chorus. I enjoyed celebrating my friends’ holidays with them. But a byproduct of being exposed primarily to the majority culture is that its ubiquity can drown out the distinctive nature of the people to which one also may belong. If Judaism isn’t actively practiced and discussed in the home, for example, and if that culture isn’t nurtured, there is little reason to believe kids will opt for, understand, or learn about, that heritage. And this goes for ethnic culture as well.
Ironically, one’s choices may not even matter. If one doesn’t choose to be engaged with Judaism, Islam, Black America, or some other group to which one belongs, society still will decide for you. Make no mistake about it—when being exposed to discrimination, hate speech, and violence, the perpetrators of such crimes will categorize you for you. In the end, you suffer all the disadvantages, without the advantages.
MINORITY IDENTIFICATION
But back to the original premise of this Musing. Mixed-race and mixed-religious couples more often identify with the minority group, in no small measure because of the sense of belonging, the rituals, and the joy that comes with honoring traditions and history of a “people” that may seem at times to be an extended family. In the case of Black/white couples, physical differences play a heavy role in dictating identification, to be sure. But I also believe that many people welcome and celebrate the quasi-insularity of being part of a distinct, discrete subset of the human species. It offers food, music, stories, history, and a cultural touch-point—a sharing of a rich history of success, shared challenges, and a sense of belonging.
Have a great day,
Glenn