The facts of race in America too often mean that non-whites are crazy by definition. Non-whites have even had to prove that ‘race’ still impacts all of us today. One of the clearest examples of this is the pathbreaking American presidential race of 2008- the longest, most covered and most expensive campaigns to date. The real deal is why’d it cost so much for America to elect it’s first non-white president?

As a presidential candidate, for example, Barack Obama had to explain ‘race’ in an eloquent 37-minute speech, as if it were his (racial) responsibility. Recall that many folks could not connect with Obama’s main presidential rival because she never made clear how gender impacted her reality; she ‘pretended’ it was unimportant, and even ‘wore the pants’ until it was too late. If Hilary Clinton had early on made speeches like her concession speech, Americans might have responded to her very differently. I would imagine that many people of color in America have felt such pressure in their daily lives, and continue to deal with the stress of this pressure on their own. The denial of the impact of race is enough to send someone into a frenzy, but luckily there are now ample studies demonstrating racial disparities in all facets of American life. As an American voter, I would appreciate knowing how any candidate perceives race in America, as well as gender and class disparities. But the reality is that it took a crazy Negro candidate to lay that path in any meaningful way. Never has any politician spoken so clearly about the impact of historical social differences on the social disparities of today. Back to racialized insanity…

Can you imagine twittering from the ‘I have a dream speech’? Time and time again I have wondered what it must have felt like to be on ground during these life changing events, so here’s a bit of framing to help bring the speech to us today. Sites streaming audio, video or posting the full text of the “I Have a Dream” speech are too plentiful to warrant individual mention. Of note, however, are the rarer speeches made by King, including one he made to All India Radio upon his visit to the only land which proved the fertility of non-violent revolution in the hearts and minds of modern humanity. In the midst of the Cold War, and bodies bloodied in imperialism as the norm, King concluded: “Today we no longer have a choice between violence and non-violence; it is either non-violence, or non-existence.”

The “I Have a Dream” speech is one of the easiest iTunes Podcasts or YouTube videos to find, and one can even see related clips of Mahalia Jackson moving that day’s gathering with “How I Got Over”, or spot gay activist/march organizer Bayard Rustin in the crowd. These recordings of Mahalia Jackson inspirational and rare. Mahalia’s best recordings are of course those of her in a small rural chapel with other worshippers ready to hear her call. Oh if crowds had mobile video recording then, or would it have just been a distraction?!?  Yet, this tradition of ‘call and response’ iterates that what the crowd says is integral to the message delivered out in front. Greek tragedies formalized this sort of response by placing an actual chorus on the stage- a group of people who spoke in union. Thinking back about this summer day where ‘change we can believe in’ came to America, here is a closer listen to all the people calling out “free at last”. The following is a transcript from Rev Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s speech at he March On Washington for Jobs and justice delivered on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in late August 1963. 

When more folks today seem interested in protecting their anonymity online, and are even concerned with the death of a social networking account following an actual physical loss of life, it’s important to take a few moments to step back and reconsider the beauty of remembrance and its potential for immortality. For example, Dan Fletcher’s widely circulated article discussing net-death, “What Happens to Your Facebook After You Die?”, appeared on Time.com in October 2009. The article was prompted by the blog entry “Memories of Friends Departed Endure on Facebook”> posted by the social network’s founder, Max Kelly, who spoke about “memorializing” instead of deleting profiles, allowing users to visit friends for as long as their server is up. Kelly’s thread that was prompted by the death of his own best friend, and his own desire not to simply forget. Fletcher’s article demonstrates that many folks genuinely want to know that the net has the ability to forget, though seasoned users know about the near immortality of the cache!

Unlike most other people I know who are around age 30, I think about death a lot. As a gay man, I grew up in a time and place that placed death at my doorstep. HIV/AIDS has lost its initial tag as the Gay Plague (G.R.I.D.), though the attachment to the lives of gay men seems indelible. Although I am trained in, and now work towards HIV/AIDS prevention efforts, and have over the years befriended many people living with AIDS, I still vividly recall the first time that I knowingly met a seropositive individual. 

Today, January 6th, is the day when folks here in Germany are likely to see the harmony and cooperation across races that we still seek in other areas of our lives. Today is the day that Blackface is not a minstrel show, and jokes about The Little Rascals representing American multiculturalism, and Buckwheat being Obama won’t hold any weight, like on other days here in Germany.

Today is the day when a Black child approaching a ‘normal’ German house will be greeted with open arms, and not suspicious glances, followed by the hushed gossip. Three kinder dressed as the Three Wise Men (Heilige Drei Könige) who ‘predicted’ the birth of Jesus parade around to each home to sing, collect candy and cash, and mark “C+B+M” along with the year, in chalk above each household’s door. The chalking stands for the latin phrase Christus mansionem benedicat, which means: “God protect this house.” No, there is no official punishment for not participating, but you know how life is in the village even in a so-called secular state (wink wink).

Not all of the groupings of kids in Biblical drag around Germany will be in Blackface, and the practice is apparently not considered offensive, partially due to the (comparatively) tiny nation’s lack of minstrel, race-baiting history with blacks, though the story of Santa Claus and his evil, dark-skinned companion is a whole ‘nother can of worms. It is interesting to note, however, that the Nativity scenes here in Germany almost always depict the historically correct racial construct, whereas in America one cannot help but notice that the three kings are usually all white (is that whiteface?).

Today is the day in Teutophone lands where the fellowship of humanity is observed above all that could separate us. Today is the day when we lay down our arms for armistice and at least pray for peace, for He is coming.

Predictably, the local newspaper here in Aachen found a picture of a happy and content Black child to print. No bondage of poverty from which readers can send in pfennigs to save, nor images of civilians in war-torn nations for by-standers to pity. No images of decaying AIDS patients to pander to this most widely circulated image of Africans in this decisively non-multi-kulti land. No, this is the day when Christians in German-speaking lands will sit back and face one of the earliest projects of globalization known to Man, in spite of the marginal inclusion of women.

Today, especially, is the day for all the non-Christians (like me) to express a deep appreciation for the life of Jesus. Today is the day that we realize His birth, over and beyond His death. Today is the day we remind ourselves of His birth and al that followed, not focusing on Today is the day for all the non-Christians (like me) to express a deep appreciation for the life of Jesus. Today is the day that we realize His birth, over and beyond His death. Today is the day we remind ourselves of His birth and all that followed, not focusing on His death, sacrifice and the folly of humanity, but on humanity’s potential.

Today, let’s extend a hand to one another, to all of us who believe in the Prince of Peace, regardless of religion, and that humanity must realize this dream, and that humanity can realize peace on Earth. Today is the day when pop culture meets spirituality in a most meaningful way—no gifts, no spending, no credit, no savings, and certainly no Bling! Happy ‘Epiphany’ to all my German Christian friends and family. Moreover, may there be peace on Earth regardless of what potentially divides us. To paraphrase the Dalai Lama: Everything is interdependent, interconnected. If you harm others, you get suffering. If you help others, you get benefits. Early Civil Rights activist Bayard Rustin reiterates the same: “We are all one, and if we don’t know it, we will learn it the hard way.”

Irreplaceable. That’s pretty much the length of commitment our music and lifestyle promotes. The mindset that people and relationships are disposable is the anti-thesis of marriage and commitment. Beyonce and Jay know that their public personae don’t match their private one, yet I, like Jozen Cummings at The Root.com, cannot forgive them for not being more conscious about their lyrics. They know the state of black America—they grew up with us—yet they still promote men as soldiers and providers, and the sexes as in complete competition, and opposition, with one another.

Of course, that Venus vs. Mars narrative cannot sustain a marriage, or any genuine relationship, including a solid friendship. Yet, friends and lovers, like a Louis or Fendi, are replaceable. It probably has not occurred to the hottest couple in music at all that they are empowered enough to not only shape their respective genres of music, but to move Black America—and therefore America—forward.

Jozen Cummings’s post on The Root.com was prompted by a recent study published by the Yale Center for Research on Inequalities and the Life Course, claiming that there were few marriageable men for black women, partially because black women were less likely than their racialized male counterparts to wed outside racial bounds. Still, anyone visiting a college canteen can see the ratio of black men to women. Luckily, patriarchal masculinity is not disrupted by this ratio, and in facts rewards men for “conquering all that pussy”, according to much commercial rap music, as well as big and small screens.

Moreover, “Women are penalized for waiting to get married, while men are rewarded for their patience,” exclaims Niambi Carter, PhD on NPR’s Tell Me More, who carried a conversation about the Yale study under the rubric “Black Women: Successful and Still Unmarried”. The study has caused waves.

Despite their riches, B. and Jay-Z are no more liberated, and therefore powerful, than they were as basic negroes on the grind. Jay-Z might feel that he has nothing genuine to offer; the dominant images of hip-hop—the materialism, violence, misogyny, and self-hatred—demonstrate that most have yet to decolonize their minds.

Jay-Z knows that he’s not irreplaceable. B. went from “Nasty, put some clothes on,” with her girls Kelly and Michelle, to a Sugar Mama swinging on a ho-pole, willing to pay a man for his services; “Damn, I wanna buy you a short set,” Beyonce says in her video and stage reproduction, sucking on a caner stick, laid out, out of breath. Neither seems to have comprehended their own potential impact. If their wealth were not so ephemeral, ethereal even, they wouldn’t need to brag about it. The same goes for stardom.

“It’s a lie,” says Madonna to fans during her Confessions concert tour, after singing a smashing, high-powered rendition of her hit “Jump”. “I can’t make it alone,” she repeats, sitting on stage, taking gulps from a bottle of water, contradicting the song’s refrain. Even above 50, the “Material Girl” is still the crowned queen of reinvention . Her album Ray of Light marks one of her most remarkable shifts. From then on, Madonna has remained fiercely critical of materialism, racism, homophobia, the perils of stardom, and especially hypocrisy in politics and morality.

Reincarnating her image has gained Madonna’s stardom the staying power of a Trojan—wood or rubber. If fame were not so short-lived and insubstantial, if fans and stars were not so caught up into reproducing stardom as an end in itself, then perhaps our popular culture would have more genuine artists—we would have more self-aware professional entertainers. Otherwise, pop stars just titillate—ass and tits, or pecs and six-packs—it’s all just diamonds and pearls to please the crowd.

The disconnect is that fans like us would like to believe that they actually are irreplaceable. And why should stars believe otherwise—we’re the same fans that turned our backs on Michael Jackson until it was too late. We treated him like he was replaceable until he was dead, and that’s far too late. Were rappers to value themselves rightly, fans would surely have a richer pool of positive, life-affirming images from which to chose and gain pleasure. Now, if we want a good beat, we simply settle for scraps and scrubs.