And Now For Something Completely Different

Is this thing on?

I have so many things to talk about. Let’s start with just one, because it’s so ridiculously entertaining:  have you heard about the quote-unquote song “Accidental Racist, ” a collaboration between country singer Brad Paisley and hip hop icon LL Cool J?

OH EM GEE!

Evidently the intention of this song was to let Brad Paisley explain that being a white man in the South, he feels like he is walking on eggshells all the time around black folks, and to let LL Cool James soothe his rattled nerves.  “Hey, no problem, go ahead and wear your Confederate flag, it’s all good, brah!”

Let me tell you, Ladies Love Cool James, but this is a hot mess. It is like an SNL skit when it goes painfully wrong, like right off the rails. Here are some sample lyrics, just so you understand:

“RIP Robert E. Lee but I gotta thank Abraham Lincoln for freeing me, know what I mean"

“If you don’t judge my gold chains… I’ll forget the iron chains” (No, for REALS.)

Needless to say, the blogosphere is having a field day with this, as it is just too good to pass up. Perhaps the most entertaining critical interpretation I’ve seen so far is at Grantland.

Here’s a taste of it (but please go read the whole thing, because it is quite funny):

 

"I wasn't there when Sherman's march turned the South into firewood
I want you to get paid but be a slave I never could"

Just so you're clear, LL is saying that he wants white people to make money, but would appreciate it if it didn't come at the expense of his freedom from slavery. It seemed necessary to spell that out, in case it went over your head.

Whew. 

I think it's laudable to try and have a dialogue about racial issues in this country - God knows we need it. This just ain't it.

Color Blind

Photo from blackradionetwork.com.

Last week, just before the admittedly hectic Easter/birthday weekend, I read an article which talked about Kim Kardashian’s thoughts on raising a biracial baby.
 

First, let me apologize for even adding to the amount of Kardashian commentary out there, but I just can’t help myself, because she made a seemingly innocuous comment that really bugs me.

In an interview with BET, Kim Kardashian said:

“I have a lot of friends that are all different nationalities, and their children are bi-racial. So they have kind of talked to me a little bit about it, what to expect and what not to expect. I think that the most important thing is how I would want to raise my children, is just to not see color. [Emphasis mine] That’s important to me.”

Hold the phone. What??

 

There’s nothing wrong with seeing color, Kimmy. There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging that people have different skin colors. You can choose to celebrate it or denigrate it, and that’s where the problems arise. 

 

If you teach your child not to see color, you are doing him or her a disservice – especially (but not only) if you are raising a child OF COLOR in America. Much as it’s been hyped, we do not live in a post-racial world. If you choose to teach your child to be “color blind,” to not acknowledge the differences that exist, you are teaching him or her to ignore people’s differences. And people are different, and they are beautiful. To teach your child to be color blind is to ignore the diversity of beauty within his or her own family, not to mention the world around him/her.

To raise your child “just not to see color” not only translates into not appreciating the beauty and richness of different colors and cultures but also translates into not preparing them for life as a person of color – and perhaps you think you may be able to shield them from that reality due to your fame and fortune, but let’s be real.

In a world where Forrest Whitaker gets stopped and frisked in a New York deli, let’s be real.

In a world where my highly-educated, law-abiding husband can get stopped on the street randomly because of his dark skin, or where a police officer can follow my minding-his-own-business dark-skinned teenage nephew home for no reason at all:  let’s be real.

Racism and prejudice are alive and well. And to be a parent to a bi-racial child, you can’t be blind to that fact. Like any expectant parent, I am sure you want to be the best mother you can be. But that means teaching your child to appreciate differences, not ignore them. And that means preparing your child for the reality that the world may treat them differently than they treat you, simply because of their skin color. I agree we should all strive for a world where this isn’t the case, but let’s not stick our heads in the sand.

For more commentary, visit here and here. Or just Google. Folks are a little irritated, Kimmy. It behooves you to try and understand why.

Rage Against the Pink

In case you haven’t heard, there’s a petition going around to get Hasbro to make a gender-neutral Easy Bake Oven. A petition created by a 13-year-old girl, McKenna Pope, whose 4-year-old brother loves to cook and wanted his own toy oven for Christmas. McKenna’s argument to Hasbro is that the commercials for the Easy Bake Oven only show girls using it, and that the over comes in only “gender-specific hues: purple and pink.” My only argument with McKenna is that she’s accepting the societal premise that pink and purple are gender-specific. I reject that assertion. However, my sympathies are naturally with her and her brother, who aspires (for the moment) to be a chef. I have had the same problem in finding a toy stove for my daughters to play with. My oldest daughter, who is now 9, received a red toy oven when she was about 3 years old. I searched long and hard to find an oven that was not pink. Last year, for my 3-year-old, I replaced the oven with a whole mini-kitchen* from IKEA, which is completely gender-neutral – perhaps because it is a Swedish company.

The Swedes are evidently known for their progressive thinking in this regard, because hey, looky here!

Boys can do housework, too!

I have to say, my reaction to the pinkwashing of the toy aisle has pretty much been not to shop in the big box stores and to look for alternatives online and elsewhere. I just figured I didn’t have the time to fight the power and so I just wouldn’t endorse these stores with my money. But I give props to McKenna Pope, because without challenging the existing structure, it’s only going to continue. And I don’t think it’s healthy for any of us.

I raise my glass of low-sodium Lemon Italian Sparkling Mineral Water to you, McKenna. Rage on!

* This picture is part of the IKEA ad. Neither I nor my child is depicted in this picture.

Lucky Thirteen.

Appreciating, on this thirteenth day of appreciating what I should appreciate:

1. I finally, after MONTHS of not, got my hair cut and colored on Saturday. I feel like a new woman!

2. New red shoes. HOT!

3. A quiet day at the office. I finished drafting my cover article, including sidebars and suggesting which photos to use.

4. Really good news from Sweet Dub's job. Apparently they appreciate him almost (ALMOST) as much as I do.

5. Jon Stewart taking on Jim Cramer. One love, Jon. One love.

Day Eleven. Cheesy and soulful.

Grace in...oh, you know.

1. Brie cheese.

2. And Camembert, too.

3. And focaccia.

4. Soul sides. Because I go to the site and scroll around and inevitably yelp and yip with excitement. I hadn’t been in a while, I admit, and today I was reading back a few posts and YIP! “I LOVE DAVID RUFFIN!” Yeah, it’s like that. Really great artists you may have totally forgotten about. Old soul music is just like home to me. I can’t explain it any other way.*

5. Being told that the EVP where I work (who is a published novelist, and completely anal about language) has been praising my writing talents hither and yon. Wow.

* Ooh! Dionne Warwick! Now there’s an O.D. (Original Diva) for ya. And look at her picture. She looked FABulous.

A Different Kind of Black List

Ooooh, I just found out about this today: THE BLACK LIST: VOLUME ONE.

In a new kind of living portraiture, a remarkable group of African-American notables share candid stories and revealing insights into the struggles, triumphs and joys of black life in the U.S. when THE BLACK LIST: VOLUME ONE debuts MONDAY, AUG. 25 (9p.m. ET/PT), exclusively on HBO.

I'm totally setting my DVR since Lord knows, I may be passed out on the couch by 9 p.m. But I'm hoping it's better than that recent series on CNN which, or so I've heard, pretty much focused on everything that's wrong in Black America. I realize the media feeds on and thus propagates fear, but was it too much to ask for a nuanced picture? Now, I am not sure why THE BLACK LIST chose to interview only "notables" in this, its first volume -- seems to me they could intersperse celebrity segments with other folks -- but hopefully they will remedy that with subsequent volumes. I'm interested to hear what they have to say.

And no, it hasn't escaped me that they're airing this on the first night of the Democratic National Convention, when for the first time ever a person of African descent is being nominated by his party to represent said party as their candidate for President of these United States. By the way, Michelle Obama will be speaking at probably about the same time that THE BLACK LIST is airing. Hmmm. I wonder if she'll set her DVR?

Updated to add: Oh, yeah, and a few new posts up over here.

TV Has Sunk to a New Low

"Baby Borrowers" message to teens: Don't get pregnant

NBC and The National Campaign to Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy are educating teens about unplanned pregnancy while enchanting them with "The Baby Borrowers," the network's upcoming new reality show featuring five 18-to-20-year-old couples tasked with taking care of tots, toddlers, tweens, teens and elderly folks on camera.

Are you kidding me? What parent in their right mind would hand their children, especially very young children under 3, over to a complete stranger for three days?

After NBC announced it was producing an American version of "The Baby Borrowers," Natural Child Project director Jan Hunt posted an open letter on the organization's site, lashing out against the network "for the present and future emotional health of the babies and young children whose lives will be so strongly affected."

"Sudden removal from their parents and placement with strangers for long periods of time is from a baby's point of view no different than a kidnapping," wrote Hunt. "It has been well-established that babies who suddenly lose their primary caregiver can quickly go into mourning and emotional depression."

When my dad died unexpectedly almost 5 years ago, Viva was only eight months old. I was her primary caregiver, although we did have a babysitter coming in a couple of days a week to watch her for a few hours at a time (for situations like when it took me over three hours to vote in the presidential election). It was December. My dad's funeral was taking place in Boston, more than 2,600 miles away. There was a nationwide flu epidemic and while we did have warm clothes for Viva, having a baby prepared for winter in Los Angeles is a very different proposition from having a baby prepared for winter in Boston. My husband had just started a new job the previous week; fortunately they were sympathetic and gave him a couple of days off. I had to make a decision quickly, and I decided to leave the baby at home with her Daddy. I left on a Saturday night on a red-eye flight, caught up with family Sunday, went to the funeral Monday, and flew back Tuesday morning.

It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Walking out the door with my suitcase, knowing she couldn't understand that I wouldn't be back in ten minutes, was awful. At that point in Viva's life, we had never been separated for more than two or three hours. I cried most of the way to the airport. When I spoke to Sweet Dub over the next three days, he said she was pretty much inconsolable at night and although he could play with her during the day, he could tell she was looking for me. She would occasionally just rest her head on his shoulder, looking completely dspressed and heartbroken. When I returned on Tuesday, she was sitting in the babysitter's lap on the couch. When she caught sight of me, her face lit up, and then she burst into tears. She cried for a long time. It was utterly horrible.

Now, I know my experience is just anecdotal, but it reinforces all the reading I have since done on early childhood development. Viva seems to be pretty well-adjusted and attached to me to a fairly normal degree (whatever that is), but I wonder sometimes if this impacted her more than I know. When she was a toddler -- not that long in her lifetime from when we were first separated -- she wouldn't leave my side when we went to the playground. I would try to show her how to play with other kids, offer them sand toys, the usual, and she would have none of it. She only wanted to play with me. I was amazed to see children younger than she was who would just crawl or toddle away from their parents, completely confident and independent. Admittedly, this clinginess may just have been part of Viva's temperament. Or it may have been rooted in that separation. It's hard to know.

When I left Viva for three days, I left her in the loving care of her dad, with her loving grandparents right down the hall, and her loving babysitter for one of the days I was gone. I did not leave her with a complete stranger. It was nonetheless clearly traumatic for her. (It certainly was traumatic for me. And knowing what I know now, I am inclined to think that if I had it to do over again, I would take her with me.) This new show, based on a British show of the same name, seems cruel to me. What do you think?

P.S. Here are statements from two groups concerned with child welfare, Natural Child Project and Zero to Three. Both condemn the show, with good reason. Read if you want more info.

P.P.S. I'll have a new post up at Belly Overwhelmed later today if you are inclined to read it. No pressure!

Where is Christ in Christmas?

"Santa died for our gifts and rose from the dead and moved to the North Pole and because of that, every year Santa comes down to forgive us our sins and give us eternal presents."

- Jazmine, explaining "the true meaning of Christmas" to Riley in "A Huey Freeman Christmas," a.k.a. The Boondocks Christmas Special.

That show is frickin' hilarious.

That Thing, That Thing, That -- Huh?

Aaaaand, we’re back. Yes, I realize that I am now posting about once a week. This is because my life has gotten even more hectic than previously, and let me tell you why. I informed my boss and her boss that I will need six to eight weeks off for this medical leave, starting in early October. All of a sudden, it appears, I must try to do everything that is crucial that would need to be done through mid-November within the next four weeks.

This evening, my boss’ boss tried to reassure me that I needn’t worry about all that. He may as well write his name on the wind. He doesn’t seem to get the significance of my having been raised in New England, which means that (a) I have that annoying Puritan work ethic and (b) I internalize all anxiety related to that. My stomach lining is like the ozone layer right now. Added to my existing medical issues and I don’t have a whole lot of energy left over for much more than rolling around on the rug with Viva, practicing somersaults. Wait, I only did that three times. I was sure I was going to dislocate my neck or something, and that, on top of everything else, would quite definitely make my husband leave me*. And I just can’t have that.

So anyway, I am making myself a little nuts with work, despite having potentially met half of my fundraising goal for this fiscal year in the first quarter (hey, and we’re not even finished with the first quarter yet. This freakin’ rocks!). Blah blah blah, work stuff is completely boring since I can’t tell you any of the details that make it interesting.

Example: I went to a work thing today where roughly one-third of our entire staff attended. (Maybe 100 people). I don’t understand why some people do not get what proper work attire is. I will not give the play-by-play, but flip flops? NO. NO. NO. I can’t say it enough. NO. For God’s sake, NO. If you wear them with suit pants and a blouse, it looks ridiculous. If you wear them with some cavernous burlap sack dress, it looks like you have truly given up caring and are just waiting to throw yourself in front of a train. Either way, I don’t want to see it and neither does anyone else.

Speaking of which, what the…???



















(Link to story) I am speechless. And kind of sad. It seems like Lauryn Hill has been having some kind of breakdown over the past few years and no one is doing anything about it. What’s happened to her? I say this as a fan of her music – I think she is hugely talented. I mean, look at that picture again.** And then look at this. What on God’s green earth??

Sigh.

Someday I will write a post which will be poignant and evocative and leave my readers gazing wistfully out the window and marveling at the wonders of the world. Today is not that day, my friends.

See you next week.


* Yes, he’s been threatening to do that lately because Viva and I are both so accident-prone that he can’t stand to be around us. Last week, I mangled my toe such that I couldn’t wear a regular shoe. But in what has to be a record, within a 20-minute span, Viva fell and scraped her knee, dropped her eraser into the toilet, and then pinched the side of her hand in the bathroom door, breaking the skin. Sweet Dub went screaming off into the other room that we were driving him nuts and he just couldn’t take it anymore and if one more thing went wrong with one of us he was going to lose hi s mind. Yes, I was the calm one at that moment. We have a flair for the dramatic, we Blah Blahs. It is our way.

** I suppose I should thank my friend, Mr. X, for sending me that link. Well, thanks for nothing! Aw, whatever, I love you, you big baby. Stop crying. No, seriously, stop it.

Comments and Commentary

Commenters: If any of you are still reading, know that I can receive your comments, but due to the funky firewall at work, I can't respond. Since I hardly ever log on while at home (due to the eyestrain of sitting in front of a computer for 8 hours a day at work), this is problematic. I swear to you that I will answer comments tomorrow, when I will work from home.

Moving on:

It is Monday evening. Sweet Dub and I watch the first few scenes of The Tudors. Henry VIII seems horrifically unhappy, although he pretty much does whatever he wants. When we get to the second sex scene in ten minutes of viewing, Henry is about to bed his handmaiden (or some other serving wench, I don't know her exact title). He says, "Do you consent?" and she says breathlessly, "I do, Your Majesty," falling into his arms in a near-swoon, with her clothes tumbling off.

"WHAT?!" Sweet Dub exclaims, rewinding it through the power of TiVo. " 'Do you consent?' What kind of PC bullshit is that?! That's it for me," he says, firmly handing me the remote and stomping from the room.

So much for that series. It pretty much lost all credibility right there.

Addendum - Media Links

Hey, so I forgot to add, if you are interested in this sort of thing (I know I am completely fascinated by it): check out the website for the national Conference for Media Reform. Great transcripts, and great video. I particularly like Geena Davis' address, which I heard replayed on KPCC-FM during their pledge drive. You should visit her non-profit's site, See Jane, if you want more info on the lack of representation of women and girls in the media. One example of the gender disparity their research uncovered: overall, three out of four characters in the 101 top-grossing G-rated movies (1990-2004) are male, and during that time period, there was no change in that percentage -- i.e., you can't see any improvement. We still got a long way to go, baby. Also take a look at Media Matters. They pretty much obsessively monitor the media for misinformation and unhealthy trends.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled program.

Disney: Too Little, Too Late?

Regular readers of this blog (hello!) know of my aversion to the whole Disney princess marketing machine. I oppose it on many many grounds. You can imagine that I was completely floored yesterday when my sweet husband dropped this bombshell on me:

Sweet Dub: Hey! You'renevergonnabelieveit: Disney is finally coming out with a black princess!

Mama Blah: Oh my GOD [metaphorically dropping a huge bag of groceries, including several dozen eggs on the floor in my shock]! What? When?

Sweet Dub: Yeah, apparently it's in development and it should be out sometime in 2008.

Mama Blah: Wow. [hoping against hope: please let it not be bad, please let it not be bad] So what's the storyline? What's the setting?

Sweet Dub: It's called the Frog Princess, and it's set in New Orleans. And the princess is black black -- not a light-skinned girl.*

I haven't been able to find any images online**, so I can't comment on that. But here's the official release and another release, same day, talking about Disney's support for New Orleans and the Gulf region. Disney loves black people! How could I have been so wrong all these years?

Until this morning, I had no idea that there was a petition going around about Disney's lack of a black princess. I admit that I have mixed feelings about the whole princess thing - I think it's fun for little kids to play dress-up and all that, but I hesitate to endorse the message that life is all about sparkly things and pretty dresses. At the same time, some little girls just really love that shit, and if they do, at least they should have some damn representation. Now, Disney has yet to come up with a Latina princess, which I think is also a huge mistake from an economic standpoint if nothing else. But there at least there is a Dora princess story and accompanying doll.

And for those who wonder, "Why does everything have to be so politically correct? They're just kids!": Please. Don't play that. With the huge part media plays in how we see ourselves - when you have statistics that show that one-third of girls in third grade have been on a diet - don't try and tell me that this is just one more thing for us to be hypersensitive about. There's a reason we're hypersensitive. And there's no reason we should just lie down and be passive consumers.

I'll leave you with this plot summary from UltimateDisney.com, which suggests that it's probably not going to hit theaters for a few years anyway:

"The Frog Princess - This currently in development fairy tale is being closely watched for it is said to represent Disney's first 2D-animated feature since 2004's Home on the Range. Ron Clements and John Musker (The Little Mermaid, Aladdin) are writing and directing what is said to be a musical set in 1920s New Orleans. A casting call has revealed the lead characters to be Maddy, a 19-year-old chambermaid; Charlotte La Bouff, a spoiled 18-year-old southern debutante; villain Dr. Duvalier, a voodoo magician; and Mama Odie, a 200-year-old voodoo priest. In a departure from the norm, three of the four (not Charlotte) are African American. Though Alan Menken was originally pegged to handle the film's music, Pixar veteran Randy Newman is now said to hold this command. No release date has been set, but traditionally animated films have traditionally taken about four years from first news to reaching the big screen, making this unlikely to show up until 2010."

* Not that there's anything wrong with being light-skinned. Hoo, let's not even go there.

** Updated to add: here's an image, courtesy of blog reader Emma (hi, Emma!). I'm a little taken aback by the headdress thing, but I'll reserve judgment until I see it in context.

Laffy Taffy

I forgot to mention my new imaginary boyfriend, Stephen Chow.

If you've seen Kung Fu Hustle, you have seen him. If you haven't, run out right now and get it -- whether through Netflix or Blockbuster or satellite whoseewhatsis. And while you're at it, please also get my new favorite movie, Shaolin Soccer, which cemented my love for him. There are several scenes in this movie which only get funnier on repeated viewings.

Warning: these are not epic movies with grand themes exploring deep social issues. They're just fun, and they'll make you laugh.