Being the Black Guy

So it seems that in my moves from state to state I have found myself in decreasingly diverse communities. When I left California to move to Arizona I was surprised how little of a Black community there was. The Black population in Phoenix was 4% but you could definitely find a great share of Black owned businesses, barbershops, plenty of Black churches, etc. When we moved from Arizona to Greeley, I was beyond shocked, in fact even depressed at the .87% Black population in town. As noted in an earlier blog, I can't even find a person to cut my hair within a 2 hour drive (I have since made the long trip to Denver to haircut and even set a hair appointment back in Sacramento when I visit).

So since I've been here, and particularly since I am teaching at the university, I find myself, moreso than ever before, becoming "the Black guy" where I am now the official spokesperson for all things Black and all things intellectually Black. I have already received various invites to speak at engagements and I find myself in an interesting predicament. On one hand, I realize that I AM a Black scholar and this is what I do. I study Black people. So I guess it is not outrageous that I get asked to speak on various topics. But I can't help to wonder if I'm being asked because of my expertise or simply because I'm the only option in town. The latter would then make me wonder if I lived in a more diverse city, with other Black scholars, would I still be called upon to speak on such issues, or would someone else be more qualified? I guess in my particular situation, I will never know until the university or community attracts more Black scholars. And so, until then, I will just proudly assume my post as the "Black Guy"

Modern Day White Privilege

I got this on an email from my faculty advisor. Thought it was worth posting:


For those who still can't grasp the concept of white privilege, or who are constantly looking for some easy-to-understand examples of it, perhaps this list will help. White privilege is when you can get pregnant at seventeen like Bristol Palin and everyone is quick to insist that your life and that of your family is a personal matter, and that no one has a right to judge you or your parents, because "every family has challenges," even as black and Latino families with similar "challenges" are regularly typified as irresponsible, pathological and arbiters of social decay.

White privilege is when you can call yourself a "fuckin' redneck," like Bristol Palin's boyfriend does, and talk about how if anyone messes with you, you'll "kick their fuckin' ass," and talk about how you like to "shoot shit" for fun, and still be viewed as a responsible, all-American boy (and a great son-in-law to be) rather than a thug.

White privilege is when you can attend four different colleges in six years like Sarah Palin did (one of which you basically failed out of, then returned to after making up some coursework at a community college), and no one questions your intelligence or commitment to achievement, whereas a person of color who did this would be viewed as unfit for college, and probably someone who only got in the first place because of affirmative action.

White privilege is when you can claim that being mayor of a town smaller than most medium-sized colleges, and then Governor of a state with about the same number of people as the lower fifth of the island of Manhattan, makes you ready to potentially be president, and people don't all piss on themselves with laughter, while being a black U.S. Senator, two-term state Senator, and constitutional law scholar, means you're "untested."

White privilege is being able to say that you support the words "under God" in the pledge of allegiance because "if it was good enough for the founding fathers, it's good enough for me," and not be immediately disqualified from holding office--since, after all, the pledge was written in the late 1800s and the "under God" part wasn't added until the 1950s--while believing thatreading accused criminals and terrorists their rights (because, ya know, the Constitution, which you used to teach at a prestigious law school requires it), is a dangerous and silly idea only supported by mushy liberals.

White privilege is being able to be a gun enthusiast and not make people immediately scared of you. White privilege is being able to have a husband who was a member of an extremist political party that wants your state to secede from the Union, and whose motto was "Alaska first," and no one questions your patriotism or that of your family, while if you're black and your spouse merely fails to come to a 9/11 memorial so she can be home with her kids on the first day of school, people immediately think she's being disrespectful.

White privilege is being able to make fun of community organizers and the work they do--like, among other things, fight for the right of women to vote, or for civil rights, or the 8-hour workday, or an end to child labor--and people think you're being pithy and tough, but if you merely question the experience of a small town mayor and 18-month governor with no foreign policy expertise beyond a class she took in college--you're somehow being mean, or even sexist.

White privilege is being able to convince white women who don't even agree with you on any substantive issue to vote for you and your running mate anyway, because all of a sudden your presence on the ticket has inspired confidence in these same white women, and made them give your party a "second look."

White privilege is being able to fire people who didn't support your political campaigns and not be accused of abusing your power or being a typical politician who engages in favoritism, while being black and merely knowing some folks from the old-line political machines in Chicago means you must be corrupt.

White privilege is being able to attend c hurches over the years whose pastors say that people who voted for John Kerry or merely criticize George W. Bush are going to hell, and that the U.S. is an explicitly Christian nation and the job of Christians is to bring Christian theological principles into government, and who bring in speakers who say the conflict in the Middle East is God's punishment on Jews for rejecting Jesus, and everyone can still think you're just a good churchgoing Christian, but if you're black and friends with a black pastor who has noted (as have Colin Powell and the U.S. Department of Defense) that terrorist attacks are often the result of U.S. foreign policy and who talks about the history of racism and its effect on black people, you're an extremist who probably hates America.

White privilege is not knowing what the Bush Doctrine is when asked by a reporter, and then people get angry at the reporter for asking you such a "trick question," while being bl ack and merely refusing to give one-word answers to the queries of Bill O'Reilly means you're dodging the question, or trying to seem overly intellectual and nuanced.

White privilege is being able to claim your experience as a POW has anything at all to do with your fitness for president, while being black and experiencing racism is, as Sarah Palin has referred to it a "light" burden.

And finally, white privilege is the only thing that could possibly allow someone to become president when he has voted with George W. Bush 90 percent of the time, even as unemployment is skyrocketing, people are losing their homes, inflation is rising, and the U.S. is increasingly isolated from world opinion, just because white voters aren't sure about that whole "change" thing. Ya know, it's just too vague and ill-defined, unlike, say, four more years of the same, which is very concrete and certain.

White privilege is, in short, the problem.

First Week on the Job

This week was my first week teaching at the new university. Surprisingly I slept incredibly well the nights before. I guess when you've been teaching the subject for so long you get over your nerves. Still, the first days of school are always an anxious time for teachers. We create our syllabus, build or update our curriculum, etc. With being a new teacher, you must also figure out departmental politics and bureaucracy. Nevertheless, my first week as a prof at the university was successful. I have a good group of students and it should make for a great contrasting experience with my time at ASU.

The best part about being on the faculty staff is that you actually get respected. People don't really respect TA's. TA's don't even respect TA's. But when you become faculty, all of a sudden everybody respects you. And when you ask for things to get done, they actually get done. I feel bad asking for things because my mindset is still that of a TA's. You ask for things but you really don't expect to get them. But when you're a faculty member, you ask for things, and they magically show up in your office!

I will say this, being on faculty staff with other Ph.D's, while working on yours is truly motivating. It's easy to be complacent when you're a graduate student hanging around other graduate students. But when your direct peers are Dr's, it brings out the competitive juices in you and makes you want to become the best Ph.D. you can be. This move was good for me, as I have been writing like crazy now and am extremely excited about conducting my research this year. Plus, it's nice to finally get a paycheck that's bigger than the McDonald's hamburger flipper's check. Finally...respect...kind of.

A Bad Haircut

So one of my biggest concerns to moving to Greeley was finding a barber who could cut my hairl I hate trying to explain this to non-Black people because everyone swears that there is not much to cutting our hair. When I say I'm looking for a barber people say, "why don't you use my guy? He fades me up." They never realize how my hair texture is different than theirs. And no, not everyone can cut Black hair.


So, I took a recommendation from someone who said the people at a beauty shop called "Cheeks" could cut my hair. I was a little hesitant but I figured, "hey if it's known that they can cut Black hair then cool." I drove to Fort Collins, which is about 30 minutes away and sat in the chair of a woman named Sonia. Sonia then began by trying to prep my hair with a comb. I knew right then I was in for a bad haircut. She clearly was not moving my hair anywhere with that comb and obviously needed a brush. I thought about stopping her, going to my truck and getting my spare brush out of the glove compartment. I let it go.

She then began to clumsily cut off my hair (only after trying to cut using a 2 guard...my hair is not that long) proving that the clippers were uncomfortable in her hand. Once she got everything "even" she then began to work on edging me up. I should have stopped her before she got to the front and just lined myself up but I guess I was curious to see what kind of job she could do. The result...she kept messing up and eventually pushed my hairline so far back I actually aged by 5 years. My natural hairline is pretty normal and straight but she somehow managed to give me a receding hairline...and it wasn't even a straight receding hairline!


I never realized how a haircut can alter your mood. A good cut and you feel great about yourself. You feel confident and you get a little pep in your step. A bad haircut and you feel like crap. You're embarassed to go out in public and your confidence drops. It's kind of like the difference between wearing an Armani suit and some beat up overalls. You just feel better when you know you look better. So I left with my tails between my legs and my ego bruised. I start work next week so I don't feel like I'll be starting at my best. What's worse is that I still don't have a barber out here that can cut my hair and now I'm back to scratch. I might just have to blow out my hair like Huey.

Intellectual Snobbery

I have to admit that one of my biggest fears as I progress through my doctoral program and enter into academia is falling into intellectual snobbery. How can I remain an intellect without the baggage of elitism, of viewing my obtained knowledge as somehow better or more useful than another less educated person's knowledge? I caught myself using a $100 word in an ordinary conversation the other day and it kind of shocked me. I won't give the word that I said but it may have started with "neo". 

My fear stems from the risk of being alienated from those who do not share the same academic pedigree or even lexicon as me. This would include most of the people I associate myself with outside of school. I'm paralyzed by the idea of going back home, being with family and old friends and feeling like all of our conversations are being lost in translation. 

But besides just the issue of language, the ideology and lifestyle of academia is one that I realize I take part in but always to some degree of discomfort. The happy hours at wine bars, sampling expensive cheeses that all pretty much taste the same to me.  The exchanging of stories, recalling month long trips to other countries, experiencing "culture" (I usually don't have these stories to share). Most of these experiences, and a plethora of others, are also symptomatic of (upper) middle-class performances and expectations. "Going green", eating organic, buying hybrid cars are all wonderful movements and are necessary in order for our world to continue to exist but to look down upon or condemn others for their (economic) inability to do these things is middle-class snobbery. Furthermore, because a person is not versed in philosophy, history, and other liberal sciences does not mean that they are not in some way enlightened. In fact, in many cases some people have much more pressing things to think about (putting food on the table for the night) than the philosophic meaning of life or a labor market explanation of social class formation and stratification.

I've always been blessed to have a pretty diverse group of friends around me. Some that are academic and most who are not. I guess I depend on each group of friends to help me find balance. But more importantly, the onus falls on me to find and maintain the balance in myself.  

The Illusion of Success

Not only is this picture funny but I actually think it's pretty representative of the minds of many of us. We've become such a consumerist society that we often quantify the value of our existence by what we consume. We suffer from commodity fetishism where our sense of self and worth is tied up in what we materially possess. So as silly as this image seems, it actually illuminates how our modern notion of success and personal worth is simply an illusion, seen when we peer through a cloak of consumerism. We think we have made it but in all reality we have very little.

"When a society wishes to commit suicide, consumerism works quite well"

Academic Depression

It's 12am and I've been writing since 10am this morning. I've been spending the last couple of weeks attempting to write for at least 4-5 hours a day including weekends. I've been working on my content chapter which is focusing on reviewing the literature on gender, masculinity, Black masculinity, Black male schooling, Black middle-class male schooling (there is none) and defining class. The last concept has been the toughest so far. I've been asking people through casual conversations how they define class (social class that is). It's amazing how across the board people are in their definitions. They talk about class in terms of style, manners and of culture. "Oh, he has class because he drives a..." or "Class is just where you rank in social status." To be honest, you'd be hard pressed to find any singular definition, at least in terms of general discourse. I decided to define class structure, and particularly the middle-class, in terms of their relation, within the labor market, to the means of production. I realize that this is very Marxist/Weberian but all things considered, this seemed to be the best option. I'm still second guessing a bit, worried about the role of race in class determination.

But anyway, to address the title of this blog, "Academic Depression", as I continue to read and digest the literature on the plight of Black men and Black male education, and as a Black male myself, I can't help but to see myself in the literature. As I read the different ethnographic accounts of Black boys' experiences in schools I am always able to reflect on my own experiences, pointing out teachers and events that could have, or possibly did, negatively impact my educational opportunities. The social statistics on Black males is dismal reporting on increased incarceration, early death, unemployment, etc. The educational statistics are just as daunting and pretty much reflect the larger state of the Black male problem. Underachievement in school, high drop-out, overrepresentation in special education programs, low college enrollment are just a few. I begin to reflect on how for every 1 of me, there were probably 5-10 other bruhs at my school that didn't have the same academic success and social opportunities that I have had. I read the statistics but what's worse is that I know the guys who comprise the numbers. They are the guys who my father, who was a parole agent, would tell me were coming through his office. They are the guys I played football and ran track with. 

I know consuming this literature is supposed to be empowering, and obviously what I am learning will inevitably be used to idealize new solutions to these problems, but it can be kind of depressing. I'm basically reading stories of men who could have easily been me if that substitute teacher had reported me for throwing the chair at her. That one event could have been the defining moment in a negative trajectory of my life. Instead of sitting in my "ivory tower" writing in academia, I could literally be sitting in a gray cell, writing letters to my family. It's depressing because essentially these stories are about me.