What can Barack Obama say to counteract this stuff, I wondered? I want to believe in him. I don't want this to touch him, to interrupt his campaign for President, to stop this historic race. If I was thinking that way, idealistic Obama loving me, then how in the world could other people's concerns and questions be answered?
Tuesday, in the midst of watching The View (and hoping Whoopie would get well soon, because I missed her so much), Barbara Walters said that Barack Obama was making a speech about his relationship with his pastor and other things that had arisen from this issue. I flipped to the cable news networks. There he was, with flags on the wall behind him, speaking about race, an issue we've always been supposed to ignore if we want to be politically correct. I sat enthralled watching and listening to this tall, slim, charismatic man, who I've admired since I first heard him speak at the Democratic convention.
I watched and listened to the rest of the speech, and then went to the internet and read the full context of the speech with tears running down my face. I could not get over the brilliance and truth of that speech. I haven't run from learning about the uncomfortable history of slavery and racism in this country. I've always talked about and tried to actively practice what I believe in, equality, tolerance and respect for all people of every race, religion and creed. I know, however, that like Obama's white grandmother, I feel uncomfortable in certain situations, like when walking down a street and seeing a group of tall young black men. I also notice, even when I'm not feeling uncomfortable about it, when I am the only white person, walking through a mall or down a street, or in a restaurant or movie theatre. I don't see these things as racism, but to some people they would be, and I accept that.
Unlike Chris Matthews on MSNBC, I don't think the speech Barack Obama made on Tuesday, March 19, at 10:00 was the best speech on race ever made. I'll reserve that honor for the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr.'s speech during the march on Washington, which I watched on TV, on my summer break from college. Still, it was a wonderful speech, a brave speech, a brilliant speech. It was a speech he made, because he had to, but it was a speech that he should have made even if his pastor's rants weren't all over the air waves. We need to realize the historical significance of the 2008 election, no matter who wins it in November. Obama's race and Hilary Clinton's gender can't be ignored. This election shouldn't be politics as usual. It's just too important.
While Chris Matthew praised the speech with the excitement and enthusiasm with which he praises everything he likes (I love Chris, but I really believe there is not enough Ritalin in the world to calm him down when he gets enthusiastic), others were not so sure that the speech did what it was supposed to do, open up the discussion of race, put those Youtube snippets of Reverend Wright into context, and help explain the relationship of Obama and his pastor. Some said what one of my friends said to me, now he is the Black candidate. In other words, now Barack Obama, born of the short lived marriage of a Black man from Kenya,and a white woman from Kansas, will be perceived to be Black. Gee, I always knew that about him. It's part of why this election is so special.
I expected everyone to watch or read the speech, and hear what I heard. Obama put his pastor's words in historical context, explained the anger and frustration that created them, and then told us that he understood but didn't agree with most of them. He talked about Reverend Wright's biggest mistake, seeing our country and society as static, not recognizing the changes that have occurred and are still occurring, and that hopefully will create a better America in the process. He also took time to recognize the anger and frustration of middle-class, blue collar white people of various ethnicities, who feel that they have either made or not made it themselves, without the help that is available to minorities. I thought he made his point. He explained what needed to be explained, distanced himself from Reverend Wright's words without damning the pastor the way the pastor damned America, and showed recognition of how experience affects the views of all of us. I felt proud to be supporting this man.
Then as I watched talk shows, conversed with other people, and read articles and commentary in the newspaper and online, I realized that many others didn't feel the way I do. The few concerns I felt had been dissolved by Obama's speech. For the others that hadn't happened, and might not ever happen no matter what he does. Their doubts about Obama had grown and been magnified by the whole Wright affair.
I wondered why others didn't see or hear the same thing I heard when Barack Obama spoke. Why when they read the speech, it didn't answer all their questions the way it answered mine. That's when I realized that all of us do two things about subjects like this. We watch and listen through the experience of our lives, and we tend to see and hear what we expect to see and hear. My experiences as a white woman, and as a Jew had raised questions in my mind when I saw and heard Jeremiah Wright's tirades. I wanted Barack Obama to answer those questions and I wanted to believe the things he said in responding to them. Both of those things happened for me. I've come to realize that that was because I saw and heard what I wanted to see and hear. Don't we all?
1 comment:
I am in complete agreement with your feelings. Hopefully there are many of us out there that look at this man and see a person we can finally be proud to call President of the United States.
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