Hon! Can You Get Me a Sandwich?

On a recent Saturday I was enjoying an afternoon of cartoons. After about half an hour, I noticed a disturbing pattern in the commercials. For little boys there were commercials about monster trucks, muscular action figures, and things that explode. Little boys were shown throwing their heads back and giggling or making the sound effects that only little boys make when in the thick of playtime. It was all fun and games until the the commercials aimed at little girls aired. Toy ovens, little vacuum cleaners, and babies who could really cry and pee were advertised to appease little princesses. I kept watching hoping that at some point there would be a commercial for Ivy League, Presidential, or Business Suit Barbie, but that never happened. The whole experience got me thinking about the way we are trained to believe what our roles are from early on and how those assumptions can ultimately be a detriment to us as adults.

Based on what I saw that day, I feel it safe to assume that the message sent to our kids early on is that the role of boys is to play while girls are supposed to pick up the boys' toys and cook post-recreation snacks in a tiny oven heated by a light bulb. While Little Tommy is making his volcano explode and fighting imaginary wars with his superhero action figures, Little Susie is in the back room wearing an apron, pushing her baby mop, and trying to stop the crying of her ever peeing baby. As it is in kid land, so it is in adulthood.

Though many of us are much more evolved than what was implied by the advertising I saw, there are many who still subscribe to the implied theory that men make messes and women serve to clean them up. In adult television programming the husband is often a selfish, immature oaf who is always getting into trouble and the wife is a homemaking saint who rules with an iron fist (the other hand is used to dust something). This premise comes from somewhere and I am now convinced that place is childhood. Despite what appears to be a dire existence, I am convinced there is hope. That hope starts with teaching our children their REAL roles; those of self-sufficient, responsible, fair-minded, humans with integrity. Once we implement this theory, our boys will know they don't have to be limited to living as a silly man who does nothing but make trouble for his wife and our little girls will know their adult existence doesn't have to be spent at the beck and call of a man who "underappreciates" her greatness.

I am sure I won't have a job in advertising but I will have a hand in helping to mold the minds of my future children, nieces, and nephews. It is time we stop limiting our children based on gender and start encouraging them to move beyond the dribble we pass off as gender roles.

Chicken, Watermelon, and What Not

A few weeks back I went out for sushi with an old friend. While taking advantage of the 99 cent saki bombs, he decided to be generous and buy one for the stranger sitting next to us. After we toasted the man thanked my friend for the drink and asked what we were having. My friend told him since he's a regular and the chef experiments and makes him "surprises". I told him I wasn't a sushi fan and was opting for chicken instead. The man shook his head disapprovingly and said, "Well, that's what you people do. You're always eating chicken and watermelon". Wanting desperately to avoid assault charges and a trip to the county jail, we instead opted for open mouths indicating shock and mild chiding. Somehow I just couldn't see this one dummy being worth the trouble and high cost of legal fees (particularly without the privilege of being able to call the late, great Johnny Cocoran for back up).

After calming down, the incident made me think about all this crazy talk about a "post racial America". I looked it up on Google Maps, Mapquest, and even the foremost authority on all things; Wikipedia, but could find no information on the coordinates of this magical land. It seems just as elusive and mythological as the unicorn we all wished we could see as children. It is beyond naive for anyone to suddenly think the nomination of a half black president in these United States is the cure all for the institution of racism that has ailed us since the founding of this nation. Crosses haven't stopped burning, cops haven't stopped pulling over young black men who appear too smart, too hood, too affluent, or too confident as a way to satisfy their weekly "harass a nigga" quotas, and the housing, banking, and lending industries have not suddenly become level playing fields for blacks and other people of color. So, what exactly is this "post racial" utopia of which everyone has been speaking? If anything, the nomination of Barack Obama has only served to strengthen the resolve of those who would destroy black Americans if only given the chance.

Post election I've had more discussions on race with negative end results than ever before. I have found myself the brunt of blunt racial discrimination more often. My work place has become more racially charged and I am constantly being asked questions about the actions of the President in a ridiculous exercise in tokenism. And despite my anger at it being assumed I am some type of "Obamist" with all the answers on Barack and every other black person in the public eye, I still feel the need to speak up in the most dire situations because I feel we are often so misrepresented in every public arena.

The more I take the time to look around me, the more I am convinced of the impending arrival of a race war of epic proportions. Racists are mad as hell the President of "their" great nation is one of my fellow fried chicken and watermelon eating darkies and they aren't going to stand for it for too long. Words like "socialist" and "liberal" and phrases like, "I want my country back" are not pleas for peace in America, folks. These are covert attempts at describing the despair, disgust, and helplessness racists feel at the hands of a black world leader. These people won't just go around protesting and holding their misspelled signs for long. At some point more aggressive action will be taken and all Americans of color need to be prepared. This isn't something that can be fixed with a bomb shelter and a two year supply of Chef Boyardee. This is psychological warfare than can only be battled with the weapon of intellect. So, black folks, wake up. We are nowhere near a post racial America. We are nowhere near a country in which we can coexist peacefully and respectfully or hold hands and sing. And though this truth is ugly, it is real. We must put down the watermelon, turn off the deep fryer, and prepare for mental fisticuffs because this thing is not going away any time soon.