I did not watch the Super Bowl this past weekend. I can honestly say that I haven't seen a moment of the game -- not even a highlight of the game shown afterward. So, I didn't know about Coca Cola's "America the Beautiful" commercial until folks started to talk about it after the game ended. When I heard about it, I watched the commercial.
Predictably, a number of folks took to places such as Twitter to voice displeasure that parts of "America the Beautiful" were sung in languages other than English during the commercial. Fortunately, it appears that even more people called out the English-only folks for the problematic aspects of what they were saying. Perhaps just as predictably, a number of political pundits, including Rush Limbaugh, Laura Ingraham, and Glenn Beck, voiced their opposition to the commercial. Among these, Beck suggested that the commercial was divisive because it set up a dichotomy in which either one is in favor of particular immigration policies or one is racist.
Honestly, though the immigration reading of the commercial is certainly there to be had, I hadn't even connected the commercial to immigration until I read Beck's comments. To me, it came across as a commercial that reflected the diversity of cultures -- and with that the diversity of languages -- that constitute the United States of America and have constituted the country since before it even became a country. We are not a country of one language, and democracy would compel us not to be a country of one language, for reasons I have explained before on this blog. As I explained in that blog post, there are elements of racism built into English-only perspectives and policies. The kind of diversity represented in having "America the Beautiful" sung in multiple languages can help to facilitate unity rather than divisiveness within democracy because it represents inclusion of multiple voices and the multiplicity of perspectives that those voices represent.
When I hear folks such as Beck argue that the Coke commercial is divisive, it rings as the same tone as what I heard from Beck's fellow conservative commentator, Sean Hannity, this summer when he responded to President Obama's speech about the George Zimmerman-Trayvon Martin verdict. I was travelling by car on the day that Obama made that speech, and as I was flipping through radio stations, I heard Hannity say that Obama had a chance to promote unity but that Obama's comments had been divisive. Yet, when I subsequently listened to Obama's speech, it seemed to reflect quite the opposite of what Hannity said. Obama attempted to address and incorporate both the perspectives of those who were disappointed in the verdict and the perspectives of those who agreed with the verdict. Similarly, Obama's comments attempted to address and incorporate the perspectives of many African-American communities who felt that the case reflected histories of failures of U.S. institutions to provide justice to African Americans as well as the perspectives of other communities, such as many white communities, who felt that the verdict represented a system of justice working effectively. The ability to address and incorporate alternate and even opposing perspectives is fundamental to a functioning democracy, yet the likes of Hannity were dissatisfied because Obama's comments included not only their perspectives, but also perspectives different from theirs. Hannity's comments thus reflect an exclusionary perspective that works against democracy, and the suggestion that portraying multiple languages in connection with U.S. identity is divisive does the same.
In the end, comments such as Hannity's about Obama's speech and Beck's about Coca Cola's commercial reinforce the power of privilege. They call for unity built around privilege, wherein oppressed folks are asked to conform to an empowered culture and its perspectives. I say this recognizing that neither the Obama administration nor the Coca Cola company is some kind of pure defender of social justice and democracy. Far from it. Indeed, incorporation of surface-level diversity can often serve as a kind of smoke screen that hides deeper forms of oppression. In the case of Coca Cola, we might argue that the incorporation of multiple languages and cultures serves a kind of colonizing interest, hailing various folks to become consumers of this transnational company's products and thus increasing the company's global influence and power without real attention to the political, economic, and social conditions of need of the folks whom the company is hailing.
Yet, the kinds of comments about the incorporation of diverse perspectives offered by the likes of Hannity and Beck not only don't serve as a necessary resistance to such transnational influence and power; they advocate a form of colonization themselves, asserting the power of particular cultures and perspectives to dominate others. As my wife very eloquently put it, diversity does not equal division. She's right, and while that doesn't mean that Coke is an exemplar of standing for democracy, the sentiment of Coke's Super Bowl commercial does reflect democracy in action in a way that the commercial's detractors fail to do.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Rethinking How We Think About Government
One of the most prominent themes in contemporary political discourse is the
less government/more government dichotomy. Calls for less government,
particularly coming from conservative voices (though also, it should be noted,
constituting a significant element of liberal discourse as well) feature
significantly in U.S. political discussions. Last night, President Obama,
predictably, referenced the theme in his
State of the Union address when he said, "For several years now, this
town has been consumed by a rancorous argument over the proper size of the
federal government. It's an important debate – one that dates back to our very
founding. But when that debate prevents us from carrying out even the most
basic functions of our democracy – when our differences shut down government or
threaten the full faith and credit of the United States – then we are not doing
right by the American people."
This question came up in a course that I taught last summer when someone, in asking about this in connection with a particular issue, sought to verify an understanding that folks on the right tend to be for less government and folks on the left tend to be for more government. I don't blame the person for this characterization. It's a common shorthand for understanding positions, and even my very first thought was to agree. Yet, in the end, I didn't agree, and we talked about that. Ultimately, I argued – and I seek to argue here – that that dichotomy is erroneous. As someone who defines himself quite heavily on the political left, I am not for "more government," as that shorthand would suggest, nor am I for "less government." I am for, and I expressed it this way last summer, "more effective government."
On the one hand, "more effective government" can refer to the idea that the size of what tends to be called "government" – i.e., the official political institutions of the state – doesn't matter as much as the degree to which that "government" functions effectively. I think lots of folks, regardless of how they lean politically, tend to agree with that. They want government to function well to serve the needs it is purporting to serve. However, there is a deeper level here that can easily translate into "more government" because it can tend to translate to more official political processes and institutions, though that phrase is a misnomer.
On that deeper level, I ask that we rethink how we think about the word "government." In asking this, I suggest that we recognize that no matter what, we are governed. Even if we developed an official political system built on anarchy – i.e., a system with no official rules for practice – we would be governed. In that case, we would be governed by the practices that unofficially develop as the ways of doing things in society. If that meant that the very powerful could wield that power however they wish because there would be no official way to stop them, then the ways they wielded their power would set the rules for how we are governed. Indeed, this is part of the concern about what is called "deregulation" in contemporary politics in connection with corporatization. If the result of less official state-defined regulations means more freedom for corporations to do as they wish, then we may have less "government" in the official state capacity, but we are no less governed. Rather, we are then governed by the rules and practices set forth by those corporations, and insofar as those corporations do not and need not build their practices on democratic processes that seek to allow for multiplicities of voices and constituencies to be heard – the kinds of democratic practices wherein, for instance, employees have significant say over their working conditions and customers have some recourse when sold unfit products and services – then we have little say in how we are governed unless we are among the elite groups that determine the rules and practices that govern us. (Of course, this leaves aside for the moment that corporations need official state government to exist because they cannot exist with government charters that allow them to do so. Though, even if we de-chartered corporations, with rolled-back official state government there would be little to nothing to keep organizations from imposing their wills.)
The term "deregulation" itself suffers this very problem. We hear all the time about deregulation, by which people mean less official state regulation, but ultimately this does not deregulate anything. Rather, it transfers the power to determine who regulates from the state to organizations outside the state. So, when we "deregulate" business, it means not that people aren't regulated, but that businesses do the regulating of us. And while that might sound good – i.e., the sentiment that organizations and people get to regulate themselves – that is not how that works. Rather, it means that those with power within organizations get more say in regulating the rest of us because they have more power to determine and construct organizational practices. (This is, of course, unless businesses are organized in egalitarian ways that limit individuals’ power, but without official state rules that would call for such structures, it’s hard to see how the organizationally empowered would generally create such structures, and history tends to tell us that they don’t do so.)
That, then, gets back to the heart of the problem that goes along with the less government/more government dichotomy. Many folks look at how our official state "government" works and see that the wealthy and powerful exert too much influence, and I think those folks are correct to voice concern about that. Indeed, many on the political left and the political right would agree on that regard. Yet, the standard "conservative" answers of removing all kinds of official state processes, institutions, and functions is faulty because in its current manifestations, it simply transfers how the wealthy and powerful exert that influence from through the official state to around – or, perhaps better expressed as "in absence of" – the state. In this regard these conservative voices do as they typically do -- they identify a legitimate problem but then propose solutions that don't really address the depth of the problem. Meanwhile, the standard "liberal" answers of reforming the official state processes also fail to address the depth of the problem because, in the end, at best, they do only a little to make those processes more egalitarian, and they often simply increase the bureaucratization of those processes, which of course, then leads to a legitimate judgment of having created ineffective "more government."
I would, then, propose that we rethink our use and understanding of the word "government." "Government" is not simply the official state institutions and process. It is, rather, the state of human relations as they influence our behaviors. We will always be governed, even if it's in the most informal sense. The question is, then, how we might ensure that there is equity in the ability of individuals to be heard and cultures to be expressed – with all of them being meaningfully considered – within the system by which we are governed, as formal or informal as that might be. So, the question here is not the size of government – i.e., whether government is "big" or "small" – but the process of government – i.e., whether government effectively provides for, reflects, and protects the diversity of human practices and perspectives that it represents. At least for me, this leads to an interest in official government that is built out of providing for the expression, consideration, and protection of a diversity of perspectives because it seems that in unofficial government, practices need not account for that, as the empowered can impose their will without much sanction or contestation. Yes, what I propose sounds like "more government," and in at least some ways it would seem that it may very well mean more official government, but really it's not any more or less real government; rather, it's more or less official government, with an emphasis on "more effective government," recognizing that unofficial government often means government that is ineffective in meeting and protecting people's interests. And when I look at it that way, the "liberal" voices in this country don't do enough to address the problem, while the "conservative" voices lead us away from what would address the problem.
Perhaps there are ways to conceptualize more effective government in conjunction with less official government. Though in my current understanding those do not align, I'm certainly open to seeing ways that they could. However, we as a society can't have that conversation until we overcome the more government/less government dichotomy, and in conjunction with that we recognize that even in what tends to be called "less government" we are indeed just as governed, and thus, we need to examine how that government would work. In our contemporary political discourse, that isn't happening.
This question came up in a course that I taught last summer when someone, in asking about this in connection with a particular issue, sought to verify an understanding that folks on the right tend to be for less government and folks on the left tend to be for more government. I don't blame the person for this characterization. It's a common shorthand for understanding positions, and even my very first thought was to agree. Yet, in the end, I didn't agree, and we talked about that. Ultimately, I argued – and I seek to argue here – that that dichotomy is erroneous. As someone who defines himself quite heavily on the political left, I am not for "more government," as that shorthand would suggest, nor am I for "less government." I am for, and I expressed it this way last summer, "more effective government."
On the one hand, "more effective government" can refer to the idea that the size of what tends to be called "government" – i.e., the official political institutions of the state – doesn't matter as much as the degree to which that "government" functions effectively. I think lots of folks, regardless of how they lean politically, tend to agree with that. They want government to function well to serve the needs it is purporting to serve. However, there is a deeper level here that can easily translate into "more government" because it can tend to translate to more official political processes and institutions, though that phrase is a misnomer.
On that deeper level, I ask that we rethink how we think about the word "government." In asking this, I suggest that we recognize that no matter what, we are governed. Even if we developed an official political system built on anarchy – i.e., a system with no official rules for practice – we would be governed. In that case, we would be governed by the practices that unofficially develop as the ways of doing things in society. If that meant that the very powerful could wield that power however they wish because there would be no official way to stop them, then the ways they wielded their power would set the rules for how we are governed. Indeed, this is part of the concern about what is called "deregulation" in contemporary politics in connection with corporatization. If the result of less official state-defined regulations means more freedom for corporations to do as they wish, then we may have less "government" in the official state capacity, but we are no less governed. Rather, we are then governed by the rules and practices set forth by those corporations, and insofar as those corporations do not and need not build their practices on democratic processes that seek to allow for multiplicities of voices and constituencies to be heard – the kinds of democratic practices wherein, for instance, employees have significant say over their working conditions and customers have some recourse when sold unfit products and services – then we have little say in how we are governed unless we are among the elite groups that determine the rules and practices that govern us. (Of course, this leaves aside for the moment that corporations need official state government to exist because they cannot exist with government charters that allow them to do so. Though, even if we de-chartered corporations, with rolled-back official state government there would be little to nothing to keep organizations from imposing their wills.)
The term "deregulation" itself suffers this very problem. We hear all the time about deregulation, by which people mean less official state regulation, but ultimately this does not deregulate anything. Rather, it transfers the power to determine who regulates from the state to organizations outside the state. So, when we "deregulate" business, it means not that people aren't regulated, but that businesses do the regulating of us. And while that might sound good – i.e., the sentiment that organizations and people get to regulate themselves – that is not how that works. Rather, it means that those with power within organizations get more say in regulating the rest of us because they have more power to determine and construct organizational practices. (This is, of course, unless businesses are organized in egalitarian ways that limit individuals’ power, but without official state rules that would call for such structures, it’s hard to see how the organizationally empowered would generally create such structures, and history tends to tell us that they don’t do so.)
That, then, gets back to the heart of the problem that goes along with the less government/more government dichotomy. Many folks look at how our official state "government" works and see that the wealthy and powerful exert too much influence, and I think those folks are correct to voice concern about that. Indeed, many on the political left and the political right would agree on that regard. Yet, the standard "conservative" answers of removing all kinds of official state processes, institutions, and functions is faulty because in its current manifestations, it simply transfers how the wealthy and powerful exert that influence from through the official state to around – or, perhaps better expressed as "in absence of" – the state. In this regard these conservative voices do as they typically do -- they identify a legitimate problem but then propose solutions that don't really address the depth of the problem. Meanwhile, the standard "liberal" answers of reforming the official state processes also fail to address the depth of the problem because, in the end, at best, they do only a little to make those processes more egalitarian, and they often simply increase the bureaucratization of those processes, which of course, then leads to a legitimate judgment of having created ineffective "more government."
I would, then, propose that we rethink our use and understanding of the word "government." "Government" is not simply the official state institutions and process. It is, rather, the state of human relations as they influence our behaviors. We will always be governed, even if it's in the most informal sense. The question is, then, how we might ensure that there is equity in the ability of individuals to be heard and cultures to be expressed – with all of them being meaningfully considered – within the system by which we are governed, as formal or informal as that might be. So, the question here is not the size of government – i.e., whether government is "big" or "small" – but the process of government – i.e., whether government effectively provides for, reflects, and protects the diversity of human practices and perspectives that it represents. At least for me, this leads to an interest in official government that is built out of providing for the expression, consideration, and protection of a diversity of perspectives because it seems that in unofficial government, practices need not account for that, as the empowered can impose their will without much sanction or contestation. Yes, what I propose sounds like "more government," and in at least some ways it would seem that it may very well mean more official government, but really it's not any more or less real government; rather, it's more or less official government, with an emphasis on "more effective government," recognizing that unofficial government often means government that is ineffective in meeting and protecting people's interests. And when I look at it that way, the "liberal" voices in this country don't do enough to address the problem, while the "conservative" voices lead us away from what would address the problem.
Perhaps there are ways to conceptualize more effective government in conjunction with less official government. Though in my current understanding those do not align, I'm certainly open to seeing ways that they could. However, we as a society can't have that conversation until we overcome the more government/less government dichotomy, and in conjunction with that we recognize that even in what tends to be called "less government" we are indeed just as governed, and thus, we need to examine how that government would work. In our contemporary political discourse, that isn't happening.
Monday, January 6, 2014
My Hypothetical 2014 MLB Hall of Fame Ballot
Results for this year's round of Major League Baseball Hall of Fame balloting are due to be announced on Wednesday (January 8). I don't have a ballot for the Hall of Fame, but every year I take a few moments on this blog to indicate what I would do if I did have the ballot. Each year, I suggest the same refrain: The limitation of voting for only 10 players is insufficient because I would vote for more than 10, and so I indicate what I would do if I could vote for more than 10. This year is no different. Indeed, because the ballot is so stacked, this year exacerbates that very problem.
With that in mind, if I had the ability to vote for Major League Baseball's Hall of Fame, and if I could vote for as many players as I wished, I would vote for 24 players. That would include all 17 players who are holdovers from last year, and for an explanation of my reasoning on those 17 players, see last year's blog post. That list of players includes (in alphabetical order) Jeff Bagwell, Craig Biggio, Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Edgar Martinez, Don Mattingly, Fred McGriff, Mark McGwire, Jack Morris, Rafael Palmeiro, Mike Piazza, Tim Raines, Curt Schilling, Lee Smith, Sammy Sosa, Alan Trammell, and Larry Walker.
Of the individuals new to the ballot this year, four to me are no-brainers: Tom Glavine, Jeff Kent, Greg Maddux, and Frank Thomas. All of them have Hall-of-Fame numbers that stack up well against their peers, both their contemporary peers and their historical peers. Mike Mussina is very close to that list as well, though his career does suffer a little when compared against the other four. So, he would elicit a brief second thought, but in the end I find that he remains quite worthy of the Hall of Fame. Those five bring my list to 22 players.
The remaining two players whom I would add are Moises Alou and Luis Gonzalez.
I need to admit that Luis Gonzalez was, for years, my favorite major-league baseball player, so I have to try to account for a bias that would come with my consideration of his candidacy. Still with over 2500 hits, over 350 homeruns, a ranking of number 15 on the all-time list for doubles, and a famous game-winning hit to win a World Series, Gonzalez stacks up quite nicely against other players whom I deem worthy of the Hall of Fame.
Moises Alou falls behind Luis Gonzalez in most major statistical categories (the major exception is batting average), and in the end it makes him a much more marginally electable candidate. However, with a .303 lifetime average, 332 homeruns, and 2,134 hits, I find Alou just worthy enough to merit election. So, he would be the last person to make my unlimited ballot.
I would also give serious consideration to Ray Durham and Kenny Rogers. For Durham, having over 2,000 hits as a second basemen is a positive aspect of his candidacy, but with a lifetime .277 batting average and nothing else that particularly distinguishes him, he doesn't quite make it. Rogers had over 200 wins, finishing with 219, which works in his favor, but with an ERA of 4.27 and nothing else that particularly distinguishes him either, like Durham, Rogers misses the cut.
I would give a little extra consideration to Hideo Nomo because of his success in Japan before his career in the United States as well as the significance of his move to the U.S. However, in the end, with a won-loss record of 123-109 and a 4.24 ERA, he didn't quite do enough in the U.S. to make my ballot.
Meanwhile, while I looked at the careers of Armando Benitez, Sean Casey, Greg Gagne, Jacque Jones, Todd Jones, Paul Lo Duca, Richie Sexson, J. T. Snow, and Mike Timlin, all fall well short of making my ballot.
In the end, then, I have 24 players on this ballot for whom I would wish to vote. Since the ballot only allows for 10 names, when forced to narrow the list down, I don't know how I ever would. I can very painfully and extremely reluctantly narrow it to 14 (Bagwell, Biggio, Bonds, Clemens, Glavine, Kent, Maddux, McGriff, McGwire, Palmeiro, Piazza, Raines, Sosa, and Thomas), and there isn't a single name on that list that I can see worth cutting. (I suppose if pushed enough I would take off McGriff, Bagwell, Raines, and McGwire to get to 10, but that would be extremely painful and worrisome to do so.) Given the trouble I have with this, I can imagine that the real voters are having significant difficulties, and in the end some potentially deserving candidates may fall off the ballot forever by not getting at least 5 percent of the votes. To a significant degree, though, as a group the voters have brought this on themselves by keeping folks on the ballot who could have been voted in on previous ballots.
Perhaps this all shows how much of a farce the whole thing might be -- declaring some individuals worthy of merit and others not, and then adding in all kinds of judgments about performance-enhancement. And maybe it's worth not even doing this exercise on my blog any longer. I guess I have a year to consider that option, so as Brooklyn Dodgers fans would have said in a different capacity, I will "wait 'til next year ..."
With that in mind, if I had the ability to vote for Major League Baseball's Hall of Fame, and if I could vote for as many players as I wished, I would vote for 24 players. That would include all 17 players who are holdovers from last year, and for an explanation of my reasoning on those 17 players, see last year's blog post. That list of players includes (in alphabetical order) Jeff Bagwell, Craig Biggio, Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Edgar Martinez, Don Mattingly, Fred McGriff, Mark McGwire, Jack Morris, Rafael Palmeiro, Mike Piazza, Tim Raines, Curt Schilling, Lee Smith, Sammy Sosa, Alan Trammell, and Larry Walker.
Of the individuals new to the ballot this year, four to me are no-brainers: Tom Glavine, Jeff Kent, Greg Maddux, and Frank Thomas. All of them have Hall-of-Fame numbers that stack up well against their peers, both their contemporary peers and their historical peers. Mike Mussina is very close to that list as well, though his career does suffer a little when compared against the other four. So, he would elicit a brief second thought, but in the end I find that he remains quite worthy of the Hall of Fame. Those five bring my list to 22 players.
The remaining two players whom I would add are Moises Alou and Luis Gonzalez.
I need to admit that Luis Gonzalez was, for years, my favorite major-league baseball player, so I have to try to account for a bias that would come with my consideration of his candidacy. Still with over 2500 hits, over 350 homeruns, a ranking of number 15 on the all-time list for doubles, and a famous game-winning hit to win a World Series, Gonzalez stacks up quite nicely against other players whom I deem worthy of the Hall of Fame.
Moises Alou falls behind Luis Gonzalez in most major statistical categories (the major exception is batting average), and in the end it makes him a much more marginally electable candidate. However, with a .303 lifetime average, 332 homeruns, and 2,134 hits, I find Alou just worthy enough to merit election. So, he would be the last person to make my unlimited ballot.
I would also give serious consideration to Ray Durham and Kenny Rogers. For Durham, having over 2,000 hits as a second basemen is a positive aspect of his candidacy, but with a lifetime .277 batting average and nothing else that particularly distinguishes him, he doesn't quite make it. Rogers had over 200 wins, finishing with 219, which works in his favor, but with an ERA of 4.27 and nothing else that particularly distinguishes him either, like Durham, Rogers misses the cut.
I would give a little extra consideration to Hideo Nomo because of his success in Japan before his career in the United States as well as the significance of his move to the U.S. However, in the end, with a won-loss record of 123-109 and a 4.24 ERA, he didn't quite do enough in the U.S. to make my ballot.
Meanwhile, while I looked at the careers of Armando Benitez, Sean Casey, Greg Gagne, Jacque Jones, Todd Jones, Paul Lo Duca, Richie Sexson, J. T. Snow, and Mike Timlin, all fall well short of making my ballot.
In the end, then, I have 24 players on this ballot for whom I would wish to vote. Since the ballot only allows for 10 names, when forced to narrow the list down, I don't know how I ever would. I can very painfully and extremely reluctantly narrow it to 14 (Bagwell, Biggio, Bonds, Clemens, Glavine, Kent, Maddux, McGriff, McGwire, Palmeiro, Piazza, Raines, Sosa, and Thomas), and there isn't a single name on that list that I can see worth cutting. (I suppose if pushed enough I would take off McGriff, Bagwell, Raines, and McGwire to get to 10, but that would be extremely painful and worrisome to do so.) Given the trouble I have with this, I can imagine that the real voters are having significant difficulties, and in the end some potentially deserving candidates may fall off the ballot forever by not getting at least 5 percent of the votes. To a significant degree, though, as a group the voters have brought this on themselves by keeping folks on the ballot who could have been voted in on previous ballots.
Perhaps this all shows how much of a farce the whole thing might be -- declaring some individuals worthy of merit and others not, and then adding in all kinds of judgments about performance-enhancement. And maybe it's worth not even doing this exercise on my blog any longer. I guess I have a year to consider that option, so as Brooklyn Dodgers fans would have said in a different capacity, I will "wait 'til next year ..."
Thursday, December 19, 2013
I’d Rather A&E Hadn’t Ducked the Issue
So, in the last couple of days we’ve witnessed arguments
from various sides after the suspension of Phil Robertson from the A&E
television show Duck Dynasty
following a
set of remarks he made about sexuality (and, by the way, let’s not forget the
deeply problematic things Robertson said in regard to race as well.)
I don’t regularly watch Duck Dynasty. I don’t care much for most reality television, and the little bit of Duck Dynasty that I have seen reconfirmed the reasons I don’t watch reality television shows. Additionally, what I have seen in terms of the marketing of the show and the use of the show by its fans suggests that I don’t align personally or ideologically with a significant amount of what the show represents.
As part of that, I don’t agree with Phil Robertson’s characterization of sexuality. The more I have studied and learned about sexuality, the more complex and nuanced position I have developed of it; the more I have come to see that ideas suggesting heterosexuality is natural are socially, historically, and politically constructed; and the more I have come to see the value of a society celebrating a diversity of sexual identities and forms of expression. Phil Robertson’s position on sexuality does not suggest that he has truly spent time learning about sexuality. Still, he can think and say what he wants; that would seem to be part of democracy.
Yet, his views contain significantly contestable, if not downright flawed, elements to them, and if he is going to voice them publicly, then he should be prepared for public response. Indeed, what would seem consistent with democracy is that various views enter into dialogue with one another in a deliberative fashion. And, with that in mind, I would caution folks (particularly, though not exclusively, on the liberal political side) who are offering arguments in support of A&E’s decision to suspend Robertson. These arguments do have a correct point in combatting other arguments that use the language of rights. Technically, Robertson’s rights have not been violated. The government has not sanctioned him for what he said. His right to say it has been maintained. Rather, an organization with which he works has exercised its right to suspend its working relationship with him because of the comment. Simply put, A&E made a decision regarding their affiliation with Robertson after he said what he did.
Yet, here is where I would caution those who not only make, but also defend that distinction (like here). Consider the world we are creating when organizations have this kind of power. Actually, more to the point, consider the world we are perpetuating since organizations already do have this power. On this particular issue, perhaps one may disagree strongly with what Robertson said, and thus one may find A&E’s decision more acceptable. Imagine, though, if this were a situation in which you said something that an organization with which you are affiliated found objectionable or controversial, and you were dismissed or suspended because of it. Indeed, consider what’s going on in higher education in Kansas over a tenured professor posting online something deemed objectionable. Additionally, consider that most of us do not have the amount of financial resources that Robertson has, meaning this kind of action would have a much more significant and devastating effect on our lives. Again, we’re not talking technically about the right to express these things or not, but we are talking about how freedom of expression can be impeded by the power that organizations have and wield. I’m thus concerned with arguments justifying A&E’s actions based on their right to act in what they perceive as their own interests.
Meanwhile, arguments defending Robertson (particularly, though not exclusively, on the conservative political side) have their own set of problems. I’ll use Glenn Beck as an example here. He equates what A&E has done to fascism, and indeed, the connection may have some value. However, his articulation of the connection is sorely lacking, namely because if there is fascism here, that fascism is fueled by the same system that he himself arduously defends – a capitalist, market-based economic system. In capitalism, organizations seek to make profit, and they make decisions based on appealing to customers, not on the basis of what necessarily promotes greater freedom of expression or democracy. Sometimes those objectives may align, but often they do not. The example of A&E’s decision regarding Phil Robertson is right in line with the capitalist system Beck and many other conservatives who are complaining about Robertson’s treatment vehemently defend. In an effort to manage their public image so that they might remain profitable, A&E has made a decision about their association with Robertson. A&E is not the root of the fascism here, and neither are GLAAD or the gay rights movements. Both have, quite conservatively in this case, worked within the market system. GLAAD pressured A&E with threat of losing business; A&E responded in an effort to maintain business. If there’s fascism here, we find it in the capitalist system in which these organizations work. If Beck is really that concerned about free speech and fascism, he ought to examine much more fully his own commitment to capitalism.
Meanwhile, let’s remember here that many of the same conservative folks arguing that the treatment of Phil Robertson is an impediment on free expression of views on sexuality are the same folks who actually do advocate a system that limits free expression of views on sexuality on the level of rights. They oppose many efforts to provide for and protect the rights of folks who do not identify as heterosexual. This includes opposing gay marriage but also goes much further than that to include many other political positions such as opposition to anti-discrimination efforts in areas such as housing, healthcare, and employment. Again, if these folks are so committed to free expression, they ought to consider much more fully how their own political commitments regarding sexuality work against free expression and democracy.
In the end, I don’t find A&E’s decision regarding Robertson to be too consistent with a society that seeks democracy. I think a much more effective way of handling this would be to place Robertson into a position in which he has to confront folks who hold opposing opinions and who identify differently from him in terms of sexually. (This is the kind of thing that caused me to see greater value in what Russell Brand represents, because it’s exactly what he did with members of the Westboro Baptist Church.) If Robertson wishes to voice his views publicly, then democracy would have him confront opposing views. A&E could facilitate that by making that confrontation happen – and by confrontation, I mean not in a violent and uncivil way, but in a nonviolent, empathetic way that makes Robertson have to come into contact, dialogue, and work with individuals whose views oppose his and whose sexualities differ from his. Perhaps we could all learn something, and I think various sides of the political aisle appear to have much to learn. Heck, for that matter, I’m sure I do too, and the opportunity to learn that would be the kind of thing that might get me interested enough to watch Duck Dynasty.
I don’t regularly watch Duck Dynasty. I don’t care much for most reality television, and the little bit of Duck Dynasty that I have seen reconfirmed the reasons I don’t watch reality television shows. Additionally, what I have seen in terms of the marketing of the show and the use of the show by its fans suggests that I don’t align personally or ideologically with a significant amount of what the show represents.
As part of that, I don’t agree with Phil Robertson’s characterization of sexuality. The more I have studied and learned about sexuality, the more complex and nuanced position I have developed of it; the more I have come to see that ideas suggesting heterosexuality is natural are socially, historically, and politically constructed; and the more I have come to see the value of a society celebrating a diversity of sexual identities and forms of expression. Phil Robertson’s position on sexuality does not suggest that he has truly spent time learning about sexuality. Still, he can think and say what he wants; that would seem to be part of democracy.
Yet, his views contain significantly contestable, if not downright flawed, elements to them, and if he is going to voice them publicly, then he should be prepared for public response. Indeed, what would seem consistent with democracy is that various views enter into dialogue with one another in a deliberative fashion. And, with that in mind, I would caution folks (particularly, though not exclusively, on the liberal political side) who are offering arguments in support of A&E’s decision to suspend Robertson. These arguments do have a correct point in combatting other arguments that use the language of rights. Technically, Robertson’s rights have not been violated. The government has not sanctioned him for what he said. His right to say it has been maintained. Rather, an organization with which he works has exercised its right to suspend its working relationship with him because of the comment. Simply put, A&E made a decision regarding their affiliation with Robertson after he said what he did.
Yet, here is where I would caution those who not only make, but also defend that distinction (like here). Consider the world we are creating when organizations have this kind of power. Actually, more to the point, consider the world we are perpetuating since organizations already do have this power. On this particular issue, perhaps one may disagree strongly with what Robertson said, and thus one may find A&E’s decision more acceptable. Imagine, though, if this were a situation in which you said something that an organization with which you are affiliated found objectionable or controversial, and you were dismissed or suspended because of it. Indeed, consider what’s going on in higher education in Kansas over a tenured professor posting online something deemed objectionable. Additionally, consider that most of us do not have the amount of financial resources that Robertson has, meaning this kind of action would have a much more significant and devastating effect on our lives. Again, we’re not talking technically about the right to express these things or not, but we are talking about how freedom of expression can be impeded by the power that organizations have and wield. I’m thus concerned with arguments justifying A&E’s actions based on their right to act in what they perceive as their own interests.
Meanwhile, arguments defending Robertson (particularly, though not exclusively, on the conservative political side) have their own set of problems. I’ll use Glenn Beck as an example here. He equates what A&E has done to fascism, and indeed, the connection may have some value. However, his articulation of the connection is sorely lacking, namely because if there is fascism here, that fascism is fueled by the same system that he himself arduously defends – a capitalist, market-based economic system. In capitalism, organizations seek to make profit, and they make decisions based on appealing to customers, not on the basis of what necessarily promotes greater freedom of expression or democracy. Sometimes those objectives may align, but often they do not. The example of A&E’s decision regarding Phil Robertson is right in line with the capitalist system Beck and many other conservatives who are complaining about Robertson’s treatment vehemently defend. In an effort to manage their public image so that they might remain profitable, A&E has made a decision about their association with Robertson. A&E is not the root of the fascism here, and neither are GLAAD or the gay rights movements. Both have, quite conservatively in this case, worked within the market system. GLAAD pressured A&E with threat of losing business; A&E responded in an effort to maintain business. If there’s fascism here, we find it in the capitalist system in which these organizations work. If Beck is really that concerned about free speech and fascism, he ought to examine much more fully his own commitment to capitalism.
Meanwhile, let’s remember here that many of the same conservative folks arguing that the treatment of Phil Robertson is an impediment on free expression of views on sexuality are the same folks who actually do advocate a system that limits free expression of views on sexuality on the level of rights. They oppose many efforts to provide for and protect the rights of folks who do not identify as heterosexual. This includes opposing gay marriage but also goes much further than that to include many other political positions such as opposition to anti-discrimination efforts in areas such as housing, healthcare, and employment. Again, if these folks are so committed to free expression, they ought to consider much more fully how their own political commitments regarding sexuality work against free expression and democracy.
In the end, I don’t find A&E’s decision regarding Robertson to be too consistent with a society that seeks democracy. I think a much more effective way of handling this would be to place Robertson into a position in which he has to confront folks who hold opposing opinions and who identify differently from him in terms of sexually. (This is the kind of thing that caused me to see greater value in what Russell Brand represents, because it’s exactly what he did with members of the Westboro Baptist Church.) If Robertson wishes to voice his views publicly, then democracy would have him confront opposing views. A&E could facilitate that by making that confrontation happen – and by confrontation, I mean not in a violent and uncivil way, but in a nonviolent, empathetic way that makes Robertson have to come into contact, dialogue, and work with individuals whose views oppose his and whose sexualities differ from his. Perhaps we could all learn something, and I think various sides of the political aisle appear to have much to learn. Heck, for that matter, I’m sure I do too, and the opportunity to learn that would be the kind of thing that might get me interested enough to watch Duck Dynasty.
Friday, December 6, 2013
Losing College Football
As I write this blog post, the football team of my employer and first alma mater,
Bowling Green State University, is beginning its Mid-American Conference
championship contest against Northern Illinois University. Meanwhile, tomorrow, the football teams of my other two alma maters
– Michigan State University and Arizona State University – will play in the Big
Ten and Pac-12 Championship games, respectively. In previous years – before the 2012 college
football season – this would have been a really exciting weekend for me, as I
would have been able to see all three of my alma maters – and by virtue of
that, the three teams I most rooted for in college football – play for
conference championships. I’m pretty
sure that’s never been the case before, and it’s certainly never been the case
with them playing at such high levels, particularly Michigan State, which is
11-1 heading into its contest against Ohio State.
Of course, if you’ve read this blog in the past, you know that this isn’t like years before 2012 because in 2012 I gave up college football. So, I will be watching none of these games, and I will be rooting for none of these teams. Subconsciously, I can still feel some internal rooting, and I can still feel the urge to watch, which is telling. It means that I would like to watch these games and root for my teams. Indeed, that I even know the situations in which these teams find themselves demonstrates that even though I’m not watching college football, I’m still following news of it enough to be aware of what’s generally happening. And that’s true. I do occasionally read news about it or look at standings or rankings. It’s still hard not to watch sometimes. And that’s unfortunate because I think there can be a place for football at college – though I am leaving aside important questions about the violence of the game in saying that – and if football had what I felt was an appropriate place in the organizational structure, I probably would still watch and pay more attention. But right now, I can’t, and interestingly enough, a significant juxtaposition today demonstrates exactly why I have and maintain that commitment.
Today, several hours before BGSU’s football game kicked off, the Board of Trustees of the university held one of their regular meetings. Over 100 faculty members attended the meeting holding signs and silently protesting the cutting of more than 30 faculty (on top of cuts of more than 70 faculty positions last May) on which the university has recently acted, effective this coming May. More faculty members would have filled the room, but reports indicate that police officers had been stationed at the entrance and denied further admission of peacefully demonstrating faculty to the open-to-the-public meeting.
The juxtaposition here is that, amid budgetary concerns, while the university continues to pour money into a football program that costs university stakeholders money every year, the university’s administration cuts faculty to save money. While administrators have claimed that this will not affect education at BGSU, I’m not alone in having a very hard time trying to figure out how the loss of more than 100 faculty lines (and even if we accept the university’s counterclaim about the addition of around 36 new tenure-track positions between last year and this year, we’re still at around 70 faculty lines lost) won’t affect education at the university. That just seems mathematically and logistically impossible.
The university continues to prioritize football over faculty (and the education of the students whom those faculty teach), and that, to me, is not consistent with the mission of an educational institution. If the situation differed, if football wasn’t outweighing faculty as it is, and if we didn’t have to choose one over the other, I would be much more willing to support the football team like I did before 2012. But the university is making choices, and they’re putting me and other stakeholders into the position of having to making choices as well. I’m simply not going to choose football over my colleagues and the education of the students who attend the place that I work and that I went to school. So, as much as I find myself wanting to watch and follow football again, I can’t. Whether they win or lose tonight’s football game, BGSU has already lost too much this football season. And they’re not alone among colleges and universities.
Of course, if you’ve read this blog in the past, you know that this isn’t like years before 2012 because in 2012 I gave up college football. So, I will be watching none of these games, and I will be rooting for none of these teams. Subconsciously, I can still feel some internal rooting, and I can still feel the urge to watch, which is telling. It means that I would like to watch these games and root for my teams. Indeed, that I even know the situations in which these teams find themselves demonstrates that even though I’m not watching college football, I’m still following news of it enough to be aware of what’s generally happening. And that’s true. I do occasionally read news about it or look at standings or rankings. It’s still hard not to watch sometimes. And that’s unfortunate because I think there can be a place for football at college – though I am leaving aside important questions about the violence of the game in saying that – and if football had what I felt was an appropriate place in the organizational structure, I probably would still watch and pay more attention. But right now, I can’t, and interestingly enough, a significant juxtaposition today demonstrates exactly why I have and maintain that commitment.
Today, several hours before BGSU’s football game kicked off, the Board of Trustees of the university held one of their regular meetings. Over 100 faculty members attended the meeting holding signs and silently protesting the cutting of more than 30 faculty (on top of cuts of more than 70 faculty positions last May) on which the university has recently acted, effective this coming May. More faculty members would have filled the room, but reports indicate that police officers had been stationed at the entrance and denied further admission of peacefully demonstrating faculty to the open-to-the-public meeting.
The juxtaposition here is that, amid budgetary concerns, while the university continues to pour money into a football program that costs university stakeholders money every year, the university’s administration cuts faculty to save money. While administrators have claimed that this will not affect education at BGSU, I’m not alone in having a very hard time trying to figure out how the loss of more than 100 faculty lines (and even if we accept the university’s counterclaim about the addition of around 36 new tenure-track positions between last year and this year, we’re still at around 70 faculty lines lost) won’t affect education at the university. That just seems mathematically and logistically impossible.
The university continues to prioritize football over faculty (and the education of the students whom those faculty teach), and that, to me, is not consistent with the mission of an educational institution. If the situation differed, if football wasn’t outweighing faculty as it is, and if we didn’t have to choose one over the other, I would be much more willing to support the football team like I did before 2012. But the university is making choices, and they’re putting me and other stakeholders into the position of having to making choices as well. I’m simply not going to choose football over my colleagues and the education of the students who attend the place that I work and that I went to school. So, as much as I find myself wanting to watch and follow football again, I can’t. Whether they win or lose tonight’s football game, BGSU has already lost too much this football season. And they’re not alone among colleges and universities.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
A Special Message
I recently read this piece
about how NFL football player Brian Holloway responded to vandalism of the home
he has for sale by inviting the teenagers who vandalized the home to have a
picnic and repair the damage that they had done. I found the story compelling, and I saw value
in the sentiments expressed, but then I got to this line: “Instead
of teaching your kids to work hard and earn things, you give a trophy to every
kid in youth sports.”
That statement is another in a long line of jeremiads about
the “problem” of teaching each child that he or she is special – the same kind
of jeremiad expressed in another
piece that made its way around Facebook recently, which suggests that the
source of unhappiness for folks in Generation Y (a.k.a., the Millennial generation,
consisting of folks born from around 1980 to the mid-1990s) is that they’ve all
been told they’re special growing up, only to grow up and find out that they’re
not. Indeed, part of the author’s advice
for finding happiness juxtaposes the “You’re not special” sentiment with the
same value of hard work expressed in the piece I reference above. The author states, “Stop thinking that you're
special. The fact is, right now, you're
not special. You're another completely
inexperienced young person who doesn't have all that much to offer yet. You can become special by working really hard
for a long time.”
I guess to an extent I understand this sentiment, but I also
think the sentiment and the corresponding advice are misguided. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with
telling folks that everyone is special and, as a component of that, telling
each individual that he or she is special.
Indeed, democracy itself relies on acknowledging the particular
contributions that each person can offer, valuing each of those contributions
and providing both for the expression of those contributions and for the process
of listening to those contributions. In
this regard, I rest on the fifth word of the definition of the word “special”
that the second piece offers: “better,
greater, or otherwise different from what is usual.” Each of us is different from one another,
based on differences in cultural backgrounds, personal experiences, and more. A working democracy recognizes those
differences, calling upon each of us both to contribute our own perspectives
and what we have to offer and to recognize the contributions of others.
So, I don’t think telling people they’re not special is the
answer. To do so suggests that folks don’t
have contributions to offer.
Furthermore, when combined with the sentiment that one needs to work
hard to make oneself special or to prove that one is special, it becomes a
way of reinforcing the unearned privileges of those whose positions the
structure of society has advantaged.
Indeed, this correlates with the kinds of sentiments that people of
color, women, working-class individuals, the differently abled, and so on have
had to deal with historically, wherein they have been told they just aren’t working
hard enough to earn consideration,
while white folks, men, the rich, those whose abilities serve as the basis for
the structure of society, and so on have faced less laborious paths to the kind
of “special” status that provides a basis for consideration of their
contributions. Indeed, this is why multiculturalism
is so important in connection with democracy.
It asks us not only to allow, but to celebrate the diversity of
cultures, peoples, and perspectives that all might contribute to the governance
and richness of society.
I think the answer, rather, is that while we’ve found ways
to tell people they’re special, we have not done a good job of including the other
side of the “Everyone is special” message—namely, that everyone else is
special, too. In other words, each of us
should be told that we are special because we are—we each have something to
contribute, and we should contribute it—but in doing so, we must also take care
to remember to accept, consider, and celebrate the contributions of each of our
fellow members of society. And, in doing
so, we must seek to understand, empathize, and respect others even as we do
that for ourselves. It’s the kind of
thing that many colleagues and I teach about in communication courses: For as much as expression is a fundamental
part of communication, listening remains half of the process as well, and to be
good communicators (and, by extension, I would suggest good citizens) we must
work not only on expressing ourselves well, but also on listening well to
others.
Yet, in a society such as the United States, we have the
economic imperatives of a capitalist system that teach a competitive rather
than cooperative ethic, thereby creating “winners” and “losers” by which to
declare some folks special and others not special. Meanwhile, we also have the political
imperatives of a republic that ask us to judge individuals as more or less
representative of classes of groups and the concomitant overgeneralizations
about those groups, thereby promoting a society based on demography and not
democracy. These imperatives provide
means for teaching the message that a person is special, but they struggle with
providing the means for teaching the corollary message that everyone else is
special, too. And, so, when we start to
see problems with the “You’re special” side of the message, we turn the wrong
way, toward “You’re not special,” rather than toward the much more hopeful and
affirming message of “And don’t forget that everyone else is special, too.”
How about this time we eschew the discouraging message of
the former path and instead give that more encouraging latter path a better
try?
Friday, July 12, 2013
A Big Opportunity
Three years ago, I started watching the television show Big Brother. Before that I had seen part of an episode or two, at most, and what I had seen did not interest me. In 2010, though, I knew one of the contestants on the show (Ragan Fox), so my wife and I started watching ... and we got hooked. We've watched every season since, and we're watching the current season of the show.
Even if you don't watch Big Brother, you may have heard about it in the news this summer for the racist, homophobic, and misogynistic comments that some of this summer's contestants have made. At first, as people began to comment on the contestants' comments, the comments had not appeared on the actual show. Rather, viewers who had been watching the 24/7 live feed of the houseguests and/or watching Big Brother After Dark, which runs for two hours every night on the channel TVGN, had witnessed the comments and began to discuss them publicly. Some called for the producers of Big Brother to air and address the comments on the actual show. Among those making such a call was Ragan himself, who penned an open letter to the show's producers in which he stated, among other things, "What’s the point of casting racial, ethnic, and sexual minorities if production’s going to edit out the racism, ethnic discrimination, and homophobia that these people encounter inside the house?"
Over the past week, Big Brother did air and address some of the comments. First, the show aired some of the comments this past Sunday. Then, last night, the show aired a segment in which one contestant, Amanda, addressed the situation with Aaryn, who is the contestant who, while not alone in making racist comments, has been identified as the largest and most egregious culprit. Amanda sought, extremely diplomatically, to advise Aaryn not to make such comments any more, but Aaryn was uninterested in reconsidering her actions.
Kudos to the producers of Big Brother for showing and addressing this on the show. There are some critiques to be had of the way that they did, but I think there is some value to them having aired and addressed it as they did. That said, I'd like them to take at least one more step.
Last night, Big Brother After Dark featured a very profound discussion between the show's two African-American contestants, Candice and Howie. After having been a have-not this past week (a situation in which select houseguests must sleep, shower, and eat in uncomfortable ways), Candice was looking forward to sleeping on a regular bed and, because houseguests at this stage in the game must share beds between two and/or three people, had agreed that she would share a bed with Howie. Yet, when she tried to use the bed, she could not escape continued comments from other houseguests who were using beds in the same room. Then, after she returned from a show event that had called all houseguests to see the "HOH" room of the new Head of Household (a position of power in which a contest-winning contestant gets to choose two contestants who are up for eviction over the next week as well as enjoy some other perks), other contestants had flipped over the mattress on Candice and Howie's bed so that those contestants would not have to sleep on the same side of the mattress as Candice and Howie.
When Candice vocally addressed this and tensions mounted, Howie carried her into the Have-Not Room (the room in which the have-nots must sleep, which this season features airplane chairs as beds), and the two of them discussed the situation. Their conversation was perhaps the most poignant moment I have seen on the show. It demonstrated in specific and real detail the kind of dilemma that African Americans face in dealing with racism (and the same would go for additional groups who have faced oppression). As Candice stated explicitly, all she wanted to do was lay down in her bed, but she could not do so without racial harassment. She wanted to fight against the harassment, and she was asking Howie to return to the room as well so that they could verbally rebut the harassment. Howie, though, did not want to go to the room and was willing to sleep without a bed if it meant not having to be subject to the direct harassment.
Their conversation articulated the depths of their no-win situation. On the one hand, as Candice suggested, if they did not go back to the room, they were depriving themselves of things, such as a bed and use of the room, that they, as contestants, could reasonably expect to have. Additionally, by not rebutting the harassment, they were allowing the perpetrators of the harassment to continue unabated in their racist practices. On the other hand, as Howie suggested, if they did go back to the room and rebut the racism, it would stoke their own emotional reactions to the comments and potentially affect their ability to play the game. Meanwhile, it would provide material for Candice and Howie to be characterized and potentially ostracized as overly dramatic and aggressive. Both choices had advantages and disadvantages, and both reinforced their marginalization. (For some brief descriptions of key events in this situation, see here.)
To go back to the question from Ragan that I quoted above, part of showing racism is showing the very real dilemmas into which it places individuals who have been subjected to it. With that in mind, I think it would behoove the producers of Big Brother to show the situation with the mattress and some of the conversation between Candice and Howie. This is a chance to show, very explicitly and profoundly, the kinds of Catch-22s that racism creates for those who experience its oppression, and I really hope the producers of Big Brother take this opportunity.
UPDATE: Just after posting this, I found that TMZ.com has commentary on and video of the situation. To see it click here.
Even if you don't watch Big Brother, you may have heard about it in the news this summer for the racist, homophobic, and misogynistic comments that some of this summer's contestants have made. At first, as people began to comment on the contestants' comments, the comments had not appeared on the actual show. Rather, viewers who had been watching the 24/7 live feed of the houseguests and/or watching Big Brother After Dark, which runs for two hours every night on the channel TVGN, had witnessed the comments and began to discuss them publicly. Some called for the producers of Big Brother to air and address the comments on the actual show. Among those making such a call was Ragan himself, who penned an open letter to the show's producers in which he stated, among other things, "What’s the point of casting racial, ethnic, and sexual minorities if production’s going to edit out the racism, ethnic discrimination, and homophobia that these people encounter inside the house?"
Over the past week, Big Brother did air and address some of the comments. First, the show aired some of the comments this past Sunday. Then, last night, the show aired a segment in which one contestant, Amanda, addressed the situation with Aaryn, who is the contestant who, while not alone in making racist comments, has been identified as the largest and most egregious culprit. Amanda sought, extremely diplomatically, to advise Aaryn not to make such comments any more, but Aaryn was uninterested in reconsidering her actions.
Kudos to the producers of Big Brother for showing and addressing this on the show. There are some critiques to be had of the way that they did, but I think there is some value to them having aired and addressed it as they did. That said, I'd like them to take at least one more step.
Last night, Big Brother After Dark featured a very profound discussion between the show's two African-American contestants, Candice and Howie. After having been a have-not this past week (a situation in which select houseguests must sleep, shower, and eat in uncomfortable ways), Candice was looking forward to sleeping on a regular bed and, because houseguests at this stage in the game must share beds between two and/or three people, had agreed that she would share a bed with Howie. Yet, when she tried to use the bed, she could not escape continued comments from other houseguests who were using beds in the same room. Then, after she returned from a show event that had called all houseguests to see the "HOH" room of the new Head of Household (a position of power in which a contest-winning contestant gets to choose two contestants who are up for eviction over the next week as well as enjoy some other perks), other contestants had flipped over the mattress on Candice and Howie's bed so that those contestants would not have to sleep on the same side of the mattress as Candice and Howie.
When Candice vocally addressed this and tensions mounted, Howie carried her into the Have-Not Room (the room in which the have-nots must sleep, which this season features airplane chairs as beds), and the two of them discussed the situation. Their conversation was perhaps the most poignant moment I have seen on the show. It demonstrated in specific and real detail the kind of dilemma that African Americans face in dealing with racism (and the same would go for additional groups who have faced oppression). As Candice stated explicitly, all she wanted to do was lay down in her bed, but she could not do so without racial harassment. She wanted to fight against the harassment, and she was asking Howie to return to the room as well so that they could verbally rebut the harassment. Howie, though, did not want to go to the room and was willing to sleep without a bed if it meant not having to be subject to the direct harassment.
Their conversation articulated the depths of their no-win situation. On the one hand, as Candice suggested, if they did not go back to the room, they were depriving themselves of things, such as a bed and use of the room, that they, as contestants, could reasonably expect to have. Additionally, by not rebutting the harassment, they were allowing the perpetrators of the harassment to continue unabated in their racist practices. On the other hand, as Howie suggested, if they did go back to the room and rebut the racism, it would stoke their own emotional reactions to the comments and potentially affect their ability to play the game. Meanwhile, it would provide material for Candice and Howie to be characterized and potentially ostracized as overly dramatic and aggressive. Both choices had advantages and disadvantages, and both reinforced their marginalization. (For some brief descriptions of key events in this situation, see here.)
To go back to the question from Ragan that I quoted above, part of showing racism is showing the very real dilemmas into which it places individuals who have been subjected to it. With that in mind, I think it would behoove the producers of Big Brother to show the situation with the mattress and some of the conversation between Candice and Howie. This is a chance to show, very explicitly and profoundly, the kinds of Catch-22s that racism creates for those who experience its oppression, and I really hope the producers of Big Brother take this opportunity.
UPDATE: Just after posting this, I found that TMZ.com has commentary on and video of the situation. To see it click here.
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