Home > Blogs > About Rich's Work > Rich's Blog: Redeeming Hope
Printable Version
Tell a friend
-
Why Race Still Matters
It has been nearly a week since Barack Obama gave his speech about race in America, and I can already feel the nation's focus on race starting to slip away. Many have interpreted the speech through the lens of campaign tactics: "Was Obama successful in getting Reverend Jeremiah Wright and his incendiary comments off the front page?" And yet, in our hopes to embrace a post-racial politics, we may miss the very discussion on race that remains essential to our society and politics.
Let me start by saying that I do not believe a so-called "national conversation" on race is the way to go, if that means a repeat of former President Clinton's effort on this matter. Remember the national commission he appointed, which soon became embroiled in endless issues about its focus? That initiative had all the negative trappings of a high-falutin' blue-ribbon panel: formal hearings with far more posturing than conversation. After a much ballyhooed launch, the commission landed with a thud.
Nor am I ready to believe that any "new and improved" national conversation will be enough to really move the nation forward. My fear is that any such effort will be too far removed from the realities of people's daily lives. Instead I worry it will become entangled with program staff, organizational charts, endless strategy sessions, with little real engagement taking place between and among citizens. Indeed, such efforts can miss the larger point: our engagement must start where we live, in our communities, with people we can see and hear and feel, where we can hold each other accountable for what we say and do. Otherwise, the discussion can become an abstract endeavor, with success gauged by the number of participating cities, the number of people in attendance at public forums or who participate in online discussions, the number of press clippings garnered, instead of something rooted in people's real experiences and emotions. Relevance and meaning can too easily become the victim of good intentions.
Just last week I was reminded again of the true nature of the engagement we need on race in America, when I led our Public Innovators Lab in Baltimore, where more than 40 public innovators from community groups, national foundations, public broadcasting stations (radio and TV), school systems and city government were present. In one of the small groups, the discussion turned to race. (Indeed, wherever I go, I find that the conversation often turns to race; it is a topic that begs to be discussed among people throughout our society.)
I have found that there are a number of keys to moving the "race discussion" forward. In suggesting them, I do not pretend to hold "the answer" to this dilemma, but I do believe progress is possible, and here are just a handful of insights that I believe warrant our attention:
1. We must know that the topic of race itself brings to the fore different questions for different groups in society. For instance, most whites I have encountered want to talk about "race relations," where the basic thrust is, "Can't we all get along better?"; while many blacks want to focus on "racism," seeking to address fundamental, underlying questions of past transgressions and prejudice in society. These are two different conversations, which we will need to air out and ultimately bridge if any progress is to be made. But let's be clear: the latter conversation is much more difficult to hold, and will require both courage and humility on everyone's part to step forward and listen, and to engage with others on matters that will test our resolve and ability to stay at the table.
2. After some discussion, many whites often say something like, "Can't we move on now?" Indeed, in yesterday's Washington Post, a man, sympathetic to Obama's speech, was quoted in a follow-up article to the speech saying, "We need to get over it." Meanwhile, many blacks want to work through issues from present and past, not simply mention them, talk for a bit, and then move on. Time is of the essence here: in our desire to embrace a post-racial politics, we must not seek to move on too quickly, and risk undermining the very goals of engagement we purport to hold dear. Indeed, we must not seek to smooth over real differences, or even merely come to "respect" them, but to understand and live with them, even embrace them.
3. Not everyone is ready for this conversation. A national conversation that seeks to engage everyone, everywhere is a fantasy that will only leave us disappointed and defeated. We must find people who are ready to engage and who know that it will be difficult at times, but who nonetheless are prepared to step forward. I believe that it is important to find both whites and blacks who want to engage together, and who are willing to stay at the table and not retreat in fear when their conversations hit rough spots, which they inevitably will.
4. It is important to actually do something together (the size and scope of the action does not matter as much as the action itself), because conversation alone cannot create the bonds of trust and relationships that we need. Deeper connections will emerge only by rubbing shoulders and finding solutions together to common challenges, demonstrating to ourselves and others that progress is possible.
5. We must be open to engaging in a space riddled by ambiguity, which this conversation surely is. Real differences exist; but so too do common aspirations and hopes. We must be willing to engage in discovering both, which will require genuine give and take, even a fair number of false starts in our attempts to move ahead. In situations like these, we must guard against settling for naive pronouncements about "Can't we all just get along," and understand the very ideals upon which this nation was founded, such as "All men are created equal" and "Freedom for all," and find ways to make them real today.
6. We must reconcile ourselves to the fact that our engagement on race will require us not simply to be uncomfortable, but that real pain exists. We cannot simply gloss over such pain, or appropriate it by trying to "identify" with one another or to "hold" one another's pain; instead, we must seek to genuinely hear one another and to understand to the best of our abilities the pain that does exist. Let us know that this will not be easy.
Now, I know that some people will write back to me because I have framed my thoughts in black/white terms, and that I have not taken into account gender or various ethnicities here. Please know that I recognize this shortcoming and that I welcome such comments.
Still, my point here is not to offer a solution for all ills in society, but rather to make this central point: we need a discussion on race in America, and let us not fall prey to ginning up some national conversation machine that becomes nothing more than empty talk. Rather, let us focus our efforts on a genuine, deep engagement where we live, where we can see and hear and feel one another, where it is possible to stay at the table together over time, and where we can make a real difference.
-
The Meaning of Reverend Wright
(Written for publication on Monday, March 17)The Reverend Dr. Jeremiah Wright, Barack Obama's pastor, has caused quite a stir, as various news outlets have aired excerpts from some of his sermons. Now the question is, What should we make of it? This is a dangerous topic, because no matter what one says or writes, there is a very real chance that it'll be twisted and turned to fit another person's narrative. So, I weigh in with these thoughts, knowing full well that I run that risk.
Let me say from the outset that I do not endorse - indeed, I flatly reject - much of what I have heard Reverend Wright say that is now being reported in the news, comments like these carried by MSNBC.com:
"We bombed Hiroshima, we bombed Nagasaki, and we nuked far more than the thousands in New York, and we never batted an eye. We have supported state terrorism against the Palestinians and black South Africans, and now we are indignant because the stuff we have done overseas is brought right back in our own front yards."
"No, no, no not God Bless America - God damn America!"
But in everyone's rush to condemn the Reverend, I wonder if we have missed some key insights.
First, the tendency among political leaders, bloggers, news reporters, and others to corner Senator Obama and get him to shout "Uncle!" seems blatantly ridiculous, serving no other purpose than to fan the flames of political division and score points. I often watch with utter disgust and disbelief as they manipulate news in ways that only coarsen and cripple public life.
Instead, there is the question I wish Senator Obama would answer: What is it that you found to be inspiring, insightful, or engaging about Reverend Wright and Trinity Church in the first place? The Senator could have joined any church, but he joined this one - why? I suspect his answer to that question will yield something about Reverend Wright, but even more about the Senator's own beliefs and values. My guess is that there is something powerful in the history and teachings of that church that speak to the Senator's sense of faith and service, something beyond the handful of comments by Reverend Wright now being highlighted.
Next, what does it mean to have people in society, such as Reverend Wright, who aggressively challenge the status quo, who send out messages which some say are phony and which others call prophetic, who dare to cross the line of politeness and rupture norms of give-and-take, and whose comments merely reflect a portion of what they preach? Such comments can be mean-spirited and can produce ill-effects; we should not turn a blind eye to those. But neither should we automatically condemn someone's entire career because of selected remarks pulled out of context; indeed, we must not be driven by our fear of their remarks.
The alternative is to step forward and renounce them in ways that reflect the kind of public life and politics we seek to create. Let us take in the fullness of their argument and respond in kind - with clarity, forthrightness, and strength of conviction, even love. I do not suggest that anyone should back down, but neither do I advocate a slash and burn response that poisons the very public square we wish to invigorate.
Finally, I think the Reverend Wright situation raises the question, What does it mean to stand by a leader - in this case Senator Obama - who has worked for years to reengage people and build bridges, and who himself can hardly be accused of promoting incendiary comments that pit people against one another?
It seems to me that we must learn how to judge a public person, with all their misdeeds and maladies, with the expectation that they cannot comport themselves with absolute holiness over time, and nor should we be ready to grant them unfailing redemption at each turn. Doing so would forfeit our own claim to think and act for ourselves. Indeed, it is the depths of our very engagement -- our own willingness to step forward -- that may be the biggest issue we face this year.
-
The Sad Saga of Eliot Spitzer
I am watching the saga of Governor Eliot Spitzer unfold in disbelief. Spitzer was nabbed in a prostitution ring. His governorship, maybe his family life, hangs in the balance. But beyond any immediate personal or political ramifications, this saga can tell us something about our own views on leadership and imperfection.
Spitzer was a rising star. For eight years as New York's attorney general, he won battles against corporate corruption, Wall Street leaders, and organized crime, so many that he took on mythic qualities. TIME magazine once called him a "crusader." 60 Minutes featured him. He won the New York governorship in a landslide. Until yesterday, some people had mentioned him as presidential timber.
On one level, Spitzer's story is similar to that of many leaders in our society. We become infatuated with them, even begin to worship them, believe they can do no wrong, assigning them qualities and expectations that too often are not humanly possible to fulfill. Meantime, the leaders themselves, mere mortals, begin to believe they actually hold mythic powers, at times exercising them with abandonment and hubris, often leading to their own demise. All this reminds me of sundry fables about young wizards, who when they finally embrace their own individual power, fail to understand its true use, and especially its limitations.
On another level, the Spitzer saga makes me think about notions of "imperfection." I often think that in our desire to ascribe mythic qualities to leaders, we forget -- indeed, I think we actually seek to deny -- the reality that we all, including our leaders, are imperfect. Thus when imperfections arise, we are ill-equipped to discern their true meaning to us. We want people to grovel or put forth false modesty when caught, or we want their heads. Room to gauge our failings gets squeezed out; we try to ignore the reality that human imperfection exists, until once more it is staring us right in the face and cannot be escaped.
Because of the heights to which Governor Spitzer soared, he may not be able to withstand this fall from grace. According to news accounts, the governor will resign in the coming hours or days. This will be met by many cheers, for many people took umbrage to his leadership style, and now take great delight in the public revelation of his personal imperfections.
As I write this I am thinking as well about the unfolding presidential campaign and these two notions of "leadership" and "imperfection." I often think that we seek to attach ourselves to a candidate in hopes that they will assume mythic qualities and reflect perfection. When that reality is punctured, we feel duped, jolted, even dismayed that the leader could not fulfill our expectations. And so we jump to the next carrier of our sentiments and hopes, but eventually we will be disappointed again because we refuse to root our imagination and aspirations in the reality in which we live.
Looking at Eliot Spitzer's career, I am in awe of the courage he exercised in taking on so many battles. He clearly put a stake in the ground about what he valued and he stepped forward time and again, against great odds, to pursue his aspirations. Anyone who seeks real change will be required to step forward in some way. But I am also reminded that as we act courageously we must exercise humility: that we alone cannot change the world, but that we can play a role; that in our victories we must never take more credit than is due, nor gloat in the defeat of others; and in our attempts to create change, we must know there will be times when we are wrong.
Which leads me to one final thought: I am reminded of a personal experience, of sitting once in the conference room of a foundation President's office, along with the Vice President, who turned to me and said, "But you didn’t save this community." I will never forget this moment. I turned to her, looked her in the eye, and said, "Of course, I didn’t. No one individual can. It will be the people of this community, together, who will put this town back on a better course." For me, none of us should be caught in the trap that one person will "save" us or that their words and actions are perfect.
Thus, as we engage in public life and politics, we must not let ourselves or others take on mythic qualities of leadership, no matter how good those attributes feel or seem to fit, and we must truly know that imperfection riddles us all, and that we must always keep those imperfections in mind so that we can find our way to the right place.
-
The Red Phone
It's jolting and ominous. Indeed, the dueling Clinton-Obama "red phone" ads are a throw-back to previous eras, a time of the cold war, a bear in the woods, daisies and detonation. The red phone is an icon of fear, often used when other arguments fail. But that's just it: the red phone is about the past. I want to look to the future, one rooted in our present-day reality.
This campaign has given us Senator Obama, who has captured many people's imagination; Senator Clinton, who has demonstrated just how tough she is; and Senator McCain, an American hero. But my concern here is not about media buys, "get out the vote" operations, or how to excite people and motivate them to vote. I have no problem with tough-minded ads.
My concern is that I want candidates who call us to look to the future by genuinely reflecting and understanding the present. We're squarely barreling into the 21st Century, whether we like it or not and things have changed dramatically from the 1990s, or even from 2004. For instance:• In just the past few years the auto industry has undergone a total makeover, well beyond changes in the 1980s and 90s. With tens of thousands of workers recently laid off or bought out, the auto industry of the future is not the one of our childhood.
• The Internet has altered how we get information and news and with whom we connect, changing what and who we know, and how communities function.
• While younger Americans are re-entering politics, the huge baby boomer generation is retiring and seeking meaningful things to do; yet no one is clearly proposing how to tap into this energy, other than to say, "Vote for me!"
• National security issues have fundamentally changed in the last eight years, with terrorism, the further emergence of China, an increasingly testy Russia, just to mention top-of-the-head issues.
With fundamental shifts taking place in this country and around the world, old discussions about the same old issues won’t work. Nor will simply updating various policy proposals, arguing endlessly about who voted for NAFTA and what they think today, or talking about speeches vs. solutions.
I remember sitting in a restaurant in New Hampshire in 1995 with a group of citizens I was interviewing for a project with the Pew Center for Civic Journalism. The project was built around listening to Americans talk about their concerns and hopes. People talked movingly and with deep frustration about how their factory jobs had gone overseas. They were clear that something was changing in America, but weren’t exactly sure what, and they were holding on for dear life to the past. Of course, that's not uncommon, we all do that.
But there's little doubt today that the world has gone through a major transformation and that we are not returning to the 1980s, or even the 1990s. What's more, no president alone can shape the future, or craft a new, complete and cogent narrative for the nation. Such changes emerge only over time. And yet, a candidate for the presidency and future president can help us "turn" toward the future, so that we can begin to see it and address it. You see, the fundamental choice before us is not simply a matter of debating one policy or another, but a choice about our orientation concerning the next leg of our common journey.
When I was 23 years old, several presidents ago, I was a young aide to senior staff for the Mondale for President Campaign. That campaign also produced a red phone television ad, one used against Senator Gary Hart (D-CO). Just a few short years later, in 1987, I made the decision to start what has become The Harwood Institute for Public Innovation, in part because I felt that politics had become more about striking fear into people's hearts, than tapping into their aspirations and solving problems.
In many respects, politics is on the upswing this year. The positive changes have been a long-time in the making, a manifestation, I believe, of Americans' long-held aspirations for a better politics and public life. Which leads me back to the red phone: this year's race, I believe, is the first in recent times to be squarely about the new century, about an era already upon us, one which represents a fundamentally different trajectory for our nation. If, as I believe, our trajectory is fundamentally different from eras past, then I want a campaign which talks about that different path and how we can take it.