The Bittersweetness of Life on the Other Side of the Tracks

I bought a house today. Because I wasn’t in a position to buy, I have been renting a house for the past two and a half years.  This purchase represents a significant accomplishment for me.  I am more than excited about what it does for me financially and emotionally.  I should be extremely excited, and I am.  But, excitement is not all I feel.  I also feel a bit of sadness. My success is bittersweet.

About five years ago, I set out to secure, for my son, the absolute best education I could afford.  My son, who was seven at the time, was in a school that, by objective standards, was not the best of schools.  Being that my son is exceptionally bright, I always knew that he would eventually need more.  So, I made it my goal to get him into the best educational setting I could afford.  I spent a period of about three years researching schools in the area.  I searched long and hard for the perfect combination of academic prowess and diversity.   You’d be surprised at how difficult it is to find a school, in the Pittsburgh area, that has a respectable number of minority students and also has respectable academic performance.  An additional hurdle in my quest was the fact that his mother had to agree.  I am no longer with my son’s mother.  Our custody agreement requires that we agree on all major parenting decisions.  Thus, I didn’t just need to find the perfect school.  I needed to find the perfect school and convince my son’s mother to agree with me on it.  Suffice it to say that this was a tall order. 

After three years of offering up ideas and being shot down, I made a decision.  There was a public school, not far from where I lived at the time, which is considered a top-notch school.  It is ranked nationally.  It is acclaimed locally.  By the objective numbers, it’s a great school.  The downside: it’s in an affluent neighborhood.  Now, half of the people reading this had to go back and make sure they read that last sentence properly.  After all, who considers an affluent neighborhood a downside?  But, the other half of the people reading this were nodding in agreement as they read along.  You see, one of the strange truths that I discovered in my journey is that there are two very separate worlds that exist simultaneously and virtually side-by-side.  The haves and the have-nots.  Their worlds are quite different. Their values could not be more divergent.  This issue really brought that fact to light for me.

Having sprung primarily from the world of the have-nots, Black America has always had a strained relationship with money. Many of us don’t have any.  Those who have it are often ostracized for it.  Those who don’t have it, often vilify people who do.  So, when I suggested that my son be moved to a school in an affluent area, many in my inner circle, especially my son’s mother, objected.  People feared that the culture and the people there would never accept my son.  People feared that he couldn’t handle the pressure.  Some feared that the culture in the area might rub off on him. Again, this sounds silly to many of the people who will read this, but trust me.  It’s true.  The folks on the other side of the tracks often believe that the values, sensibilities, and culture surrounding wealth are less than desirable.

Anyway, I found this school district, and I rented a house.  I spent more money than I could afford, but my goal was to give my son the best.  After all, what’s the point in having money other than providing your children with opportunities?  I knew that, although the financial burden was heavy, my star was on the rise.  Sooner or later I would be in a better financial position.  I would buy a house.  I would have given my son the best.  It would all be worth it in the end.  I wish I could tell you that’s how this all went down.  I’m sure you know already, it’s not.  Ultimately, my son’s mother did not consent to him going to the school I chose for him.  I spent nearly three years living in one of the best school districts in the area, and my son never made it to the school.  As I expected, life got easier, financially.  I got my dream job.  I saved money.  I put myself in a position to buy a home.  But, in the end, my son would not be allowed to receive the gift I had worked so hard to give. 

I have heard several affluent Black people talk about the emotional struggle that came with their success.  As they move from the world of the have-nots, across the proverbial tracks, to the world of the haves, successful Black folks have often noted the difficulty that comes with their desire to remain connected to their old circle of friends and the realization that many of the people in their circle will not be able to make the transition.  In fact, there are plenty of famous stories of Black athletes and entertainers who are put into financial ruin by their undying desire to take everyone across the tracks with them.  Their goal of helping their circle cross the tracks essentially breaks them.  One lesson that I have heard repeated more than once is about the inevitability of accepting that everyone can’t make that transition with you. 

As I said, I bought a house today.  That’s bittersweet, because of what it represents.  You see, I didn’t buy a house in that affluent neighborhood I had been renting in, as was my plan.  When I came to accept that my son would never get to reap the benefits that access to that area could provide, I decided to move to where was.  Moving away from that neighborhood represents, to me, accepting that I my son would never be permitted to cross the tracks.  Not fully.  He would be permitted to visit, but he would always be encouraged not to take full advantage of the world that exists on the other side.  That makes me more than a little bit sad. 

Let me be clear.  I’m not wealthy.  I’m not some ball player who just got drafted.  I’m not a physician or an engineer suddenly making boatloads of money.  But, landing my dream job shortly after marrying a similarly successful partner did land me suddenly and squarely on the other side of the tracks.  And what I have learned is that the other side of the tracks is more about mentality than money.  On some level, it is a geographical destination, but only in the sense that there are physical boundaries, created by housing prices, that give certain people access to resources, like schools, healthcare facilities, playgrounds, and safe streets.  But, more than geography, the other side of the tracks is about a way of thinking.  It’s a set of values.   It’s the fact that half of my friends will be insulted when they read this, and the other half will be baffled that I had to write it.  It’s the fact that when I tell people in my hometown where I’ve been living for the last few years, they often ask me how I managed to survive.  They don’t believe me when I tell them that the people in the neighborhood were amazingly nice to us and that we never encountered a single moment of feeling out of place.  When I tell my current neighbors that my son doesn’t go to their school, they literally get confused.  They get this stunned look on their faces.  Two different neighbors actually offered to call my son’s mother, assuming that it must be some misunderstanding. That’s the two sides of the tracks.  They are side by side.  They interact daily.  And, unless you have experienced both sides, I am not convinced that you would even know that the other side is there.  But I have, and so I do. 

To me, the only benefit of having money is that it affords me the ability to provide my family with opportunities.  And this was an opportunity.  Buying the house I bought represents accepting that my son will never realize that opportunity.  Its sort of like buying season passes to Disney World, and then on the first day of the season, deciding to go to Cedar Point instead.  Sure, Cedar Point is nice, but it’s not Disney World.  And you already have passes to Disney World.  That’s what this moves feels like, to me.  That’s what my success feels like, to me.  It feels like having season passes to Disney World, and knowing that my son isn’t allowed to go with me.  And so, my success is always bittersweet. 

It Ain't Always Applesauce

Yesterday, I was talking to a colleague, and I recounted the following story.

A few years back, my son's school began sending home brown paper bags full of food every Friday.  The bag would be filled with Pop Tarts, cups of applesauce, fruit snacks, crackers, and other things of this nature.  At first, I didn’t pay it much mind.  But, as the collection of Pop Tarts and applesauce in my cupboard grew, I started to become a little annoyed.  So, I called the school.  I reached an administrator, and I kindly asked why my son kept coming home with bags of food.  The administrator explained, with pride, that the school adopted a program where kids are sent home with food every week, because many of the families in the district are hurting for food.  As I could appreciate this problem, I was pleased to hear that the school was being proactive.   Partly wanting to be helpful, I asked the lady if she could take my son’s name off of the list of children who would be sent a bag of food.  “Why would you do that?” she asked.  “Because my son doesn’t need food.  We have food.  You can give his bag to someone who needs it.”  Suddenly, the lady sounded both confused and insulted.  It was as if I had given her information that didn’t make sense to her.

As I relayed this story to my colleague, who is an educator, he explained the lady’s confusion.  He explained that educators in these inner city schools often times have a narrative, in their heads, about their students.  They tell themselves that the students don’t have good homes, or that they don’t have fathers, or that they haven’t had a good meal all day.  He explained that, while this narrative is sometimes true, it is not nearly as pervasive as some would have us believe.  He went on to say, “Yes, these kids may have needs…”  I interrupted, “But it ain’t always applesauce!” 

We got a good laugh out of that. We went on to talk about ways that we could implement real change and have an impact on those kids.  I am hopeful that something good will come of it.  But, I think there is something important to be learned from that conversation.  Often times, when we seek to help people, we seek to help them with the things we’ve decided that they need, as opposed to simply asking them what they need.  Often times, the narrative we tell ourselves overshadows the reality of a situation.  As you go about the business of helping people, you would be wise to remember this.  The people you seek to help may very well need something, but it ain’t always applesauce.

Rueben for President

Because I'm always talking about what the government has done/is doing to Black folks, someone asked me what I would do if I were president. I thought I'd share my answer.

If I were elected today, I'd establish free college education for all people of African slave decent. I would also limit welfare and replace that subsidy with free college or trade school for impoverished people. Cap it at 5 years of state college. I would amend the 13th amendment, finally abolishing slavery. I would immediately make private prisons illegal. I would decriminalize Black life. (How so? Read on.) Legalize marijuana. Drastically reduce jail terms for non-violent crime. Eliminate the 3 strike rule. Criminalize policing and sentencing disproportionately based on race. Like, harsh sentences for any police officer or judge found to have been consistently using bias in their stops, use of force, and sentencing. Re-write welfare laws, child support laws, and public housing regulations that incentivize the alienation of fathers. Re-instate voting rights for felons. Allow them to get federal and state financial aid as well. Get rid of the electoral college. Make public education funding county or state wide, rather than by district. Create homeownership programs for minorities. Criminalize unfair housing, lending, and hiring practices. Create a diversity task force charged with enforcing all of the above with an iron fist. Under my administration, if you want to discriminate against a minority, it better be rich white heterosexual males. Otherwise, you'll be looking at prison time. 

I would also outlaw large donors or corporate donors in political campaign fundraising. Put someone smarter than me on the task of actually achieving universal healthcare. Create term limits in congress. Remove every tax break for the wealthy in favor of a simple tax code that taxes people at a reasonable rate and leaves them no way to get out of it. Drastically reduce defense spending. Eliminate foreign aid. Under my administration, America would mind it's doggone business. Spend obscene amounts of money on education. Help the elderly. Take care of vets. Put serious money into mental health. Reduce fossil fuel use. Equal pay for women and marriage equality both be reality. Every. Period. 

There is plenty more to do, but this would be my start. 

For the record, I don't wanna be president. I wouldn't rule out a run for congress though.

Gestalt Psychology and Donald Trump

"The whole is other than the sum of it's parts." - Kurt Koffka

The often-misquoted phrase above is a Gestalt concept. Gestalt is German and could be translated as “to take shape.”  Koffka was referring to the fact that the human mind perceives everything within a context. Nothing happens in a vacuum. Every person, event, or idea is perceived within a context of everything around it, before it, and similar to it.  The whole is completely independent of the parts, meaning that when put into context, things take on an entirely new meaning to us than the individual parts might imply on their own. When two people experience the same phenomena totally differently, I think of this.  Context changes perception, and perception is everything. "The whole is other than the sum of it's parts."

In the days following the presidential election, I found myself studying people from an objective psychological perspective.  I have found it interesting that people can perceive our next president in such drastically different ways.  Half of America views him as a blatantly racist, sexist, xenophobic, homophobic, fear monger.  Let’s call these folks Group A. The other half of America sees him as a loud talking, brazenly honest, no-nonsense, business mogul who they hope will clean up America.  Let’s call them Group 7.  (Yes.  Group 7.  Calling them Group B would imply a level of similarity that isn’t there.  Anyway…) To group A, members of Group 7 appear to be racist.  They must be.  After all, if you want to be led by a racist, you must, at the very least, be okay with racists.  That kind of makes you racist.  This is the view from group A.  But, as I observe the interactions between group A and group 7, it occurred to me that it may not be that simple.  As I watched the two groups interact, something strange was happening.  Signals were getting crossed.  Members of Group 7 were becoming outraged at the very idea that they might be racist or sexist or any of those things.  They were offended at the very implication. 

Being the scientist that I am, I sought some new data.  I endeavored to engage a few trusted friends who I knew to be members of Group 7.  (In the spirit of full disclosure, I was, until recently, a card-carrying member of group A.  I renounced my membership and am currently unattached.)  I inquired about their views on the things Trump said and did.  My inquiries would always start with a simple question:  Do you have a problem with the hateful language that Trump uses?  Invariably, they said they saw none of the racism, sexism, xenophobia, and homophobia that I spoke of.  Still fascinated, I dug deeper.  With one particular friend, I offered some concrete examples.  What I found was exactly what Koffka said.  When my Group 7 friend heard Trump talking about cleaning up the Black community using “law and order,” he didn’t hear references to George Wallace and Richard Nixon.  He didn’t think about the blatantly racist policies that disproportionately impacted and criminalized Black communities and Black people under officials who had used this language in the past. When I asked, he acknowledged that he didn’t hear these things, because they don’t impact him directly.  The historical context of this language was lost on him. Thus, he was able to ignore certain things.  Having ignored the history, he was able to hear Trumps words at face value.  And, at face value, who doesn’t like law and order?  Who would argue against that?  

On the issue of registering or keeping out Muslims, my Group 7 friend saw no issue.  He was not touched by the Japanese internment camps or the Jewish holocaust, so the history of registering people based on affiliation with a religious group or ethnicity was not sensitive to him.  To him, Trump was simply attempting to keep us safe.  My friend would never be the one asked to register, so the details, logistics, and history of such an idea never entered his mind.

When I asked my friend for his views on Trumps wall, built to keep out the “bad” Mexicans, I once again found that context is everything.  To my friend, the idea of keeping bad people out of America was fundamentally sound.  Why would anyone argue against keeping bad people out?  Who likes bad people?!  Because my friend would never have to worry about being misidentified as a bad person, the implication that we needed a wall to deter the bad Mexicans didn’t sound scary at all.  I mean, if differentiating the “good ones” from the “bad ones” is that easy, why not build a wall to keep the bad ones out? 

Hearing me explain the historical references and possible problems with these ideas, my friend was able to understand, on an academic level, why someone could be concerned.  Still, there was no emotional or tangible connection to this concern.  It inspired interest.  It did not inspire fear.  There was no outrage.  Because, even when the dots were all connected for him, it did not change the fact that none of this would actually impact my friend in ways that he could foresee.  For him, Trump is not a problem.

In talking to, and really listening to, friends who support Trump, I have learned that, by nature and virtue of the fact that they are not intimately connected to the oppression that Trump is hinting at, many people simply do not catch the hints.  When people refer to the hateful and inflammatory language that Trump uses, many people simply have no idea what they are talking about.  Like two people speaking to each other in different languages, these two groups talk at each other.   Not much is heard.  Even less is understood.  It’s not that all Trump supporters are racist.  I don’t believe that to be true at all. Some, undoubtedly, are. But, I believe the issue is that some people are so insulated against oppression that vague references to it have absolutely no meaning to them.  Someone can be speaking in racially charged “dog whistle” language, and certain people will think nothing of it.  Just like a dog whistle, it can only be heard by those for whom it is meant.  For some, though, life experience creates a different context in which to hear this language.  They are connected to a history that provides another part to the gestalt. 

Whether you are in Group A or Group 7, I’m betting you have been wondering how it is that the other side sees things the way they do.  Next time you think this, remember what Koffka said.  “The whole is other than the sum of it’s parts.”

Convenience Liberals

First, I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizens Councillor or the Ku Klux Klanner but the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says, "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can't agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically feels that he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by the myth of time; and who constantly advises the Negro to wait until a "more convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection. He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it. 

He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it. 

History will have to record that the greatest tragedy of this period of social transition was not the strident clamor of the bad people, but the appalling silence of the good people. 

An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity. 

The hottest place in Hell is reserved for those who remain neutral in times of great moral conflict. 

     The words above are all quotes from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Read them carefully, and you will discover something that I found striking. When he talks about oppression and change, he isn’t actually talking to the oppressor, necessarily. In the quotes above, he is speaking to and about the inactivity of those he calls, in Letter From A Birmingham Jail, “moderates.” I have come to refer to these folks as convenience liberals. In all of these quotes, Dr. King is expressing his frustration with the folks who would, on some level, have called themselves allies, and yet chose silence and/or inactivity rather than to stand beside him in the fight for freedom and equality.

     The events of the past month have led me to conclude that Dr. King was right. It is not the bad guys who are the problem. It is the “good guys” who choose to sit idly by and bear witness to oppression that are the death knell of justice. The bad guys are steadfast in their convictions. They are vocal in their opposition to equality. They stand up against love and hope. Their position is clear. They do exactly what is expected of them, thus making them easier to deal with.

     One is not disappointed by his enemies, because he expects nothing from them. Disappointment comes by way of friends who speak support but don’t act on it.

      As Dr. King said, “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”

The Coffee Party

The United States government was designed to maintain power and ownership among rich white heterosexual men. It was written explicitly this way. So, I can’t be too angry or even too surprised that the system is working exactly as intended. But, if we don’t like the way it is intended to work, we actually do have a blueprint for fixing it.

After the first inauguration of Barack Obama, anger among a certain segment of the population swelled to new heights. Angry and afraid of what they perceived as the loss of their great nation, the Tea Party was formed. Over the past several years, their power grew. Out of that power and sentiment, Donald Trump emerged. He is now the next president of the United States. Like it or not, they worked together and got it done. He spoke their language. They heard his call. They came out in droves to vote for him. Good for them.

If you don’t feel like that party speaks to your needs, it’s time we do exactly what they did. I propose we start a new party. We can call ours the Coffee Party, because we will be a little darker and a little stronger. Better yet, let’s call it the Everybody Else Club. This club will have one rule. We are against the oppression of anyone. Ever. Period. This party will be all about inclusion and justice for all people. This country may have been designed to maintain power among rich white heterosexual men, but we outnumber them, so we can take it from them if we want to. But, we would have to work together. Who are we? We are the Native Americans. We are women. We are people of color. We are the LGBT community. We are Muslims and atheists and everyone in between. We are the disabled and the poor. We are all of the marginalized people of this country. If we decided to suddenly stick together at all cost, we’d be choosing the next president. We’d be running Congress. We’d be writing the laws. It would work fine, because our goal would be equality for everyone. The only people who would fight against that are the people who benefit from the oppression of others. That makes it really easy for us to identify who doesn’t belong in our club.

Dr. Martin Luther King said “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” It’s time we start remembering that. So, be mad. I get it. Sometime soon, though, let’s get organized. Somebody call a meeting soon. I’ll bring the donuts.

Lesson #1

"Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction." - 13th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution

Black Father: What does that say, son?

Black Son: They made slavery illegal?

Black Father: No. Not really. 

Black Son: But it says slavery shall not exist in the United States.

Black Father: Is that all it says?

Black Son: No.  

Black Father: They didn't make slavery go away completely. They made it difficult. They have to first make you a criminal. Then they can make you a slave. Do you see that, son?

Black Son: Yes, dad.  

Black Father: So what does that mean to you?

Black Son: .....

Black Father: If you don't let them make you a criminal, then they can't make you a slave. Not physically, anyway.  

Black Son: Physically? Is there another kind of slave?

Black Father: That's enough for one day, son. 

Black Son: I don't understand, dad. 

Black Father: I know, son. I know.

An Open Letter to President Obama

Mr. President, I hope this message finds you well. I would like to take a moment to thank you and Mrs. Obama for the way in which you have lived during your time in office. I thank you, not for what you’ve done as president and first lady, but for who you are as people. In this time of seriously questionable moral character among our would be leaders, I lament the impending loss of such a stellar family in the White House. Politics aside, your family has been a shining example of what America has to offer. You have carried yourselves with class and dignity, even in the face of criticism and hatred the likes of which no president has ever seen. During your presidency, it has always been easy to look up to you as a man. Your family is something that all Americans can aspire to. For that example, I am eternally grateful. These are tough times we face in America. I wish that we could have you to lead us through them. But, your time in office is nearing a close. You have served your country well, sir. Though I have not always agreed with your political decisions, I have never had reason to question your character. You have been a breath of fresh air in an otherwise polluted political climate. Eight years ago, you offered America hope. You delivered on that promise. You give us hope in what we could be. I truly hope that others choose to follow in your footsteps.

Should this message actually reach you, know that it was written with immeasurable love and respect.

Sincerely Yours,

Dr. Rueben Nathaniel Brock

An Open Letter to (Some) White People

I think I figured it out! I figured out why you are struggling with the BlackLivesMatter movement, the protests you see on tv, the videos of police killings, the riots, the Black people complaining all the time about racism. I figured it out. For a long time, I have struggled with how this could even be possible. We all watch the same videos. We all read the same stories. We live in the same universe. How is it that we could see these things so differently? But it just hit me. So, I want to take a moment to talk with you. Just the two of us. People of color, white people who already understand, you can look away now. This is a private conversation.

Are they gone? Okay. I know why you are struggling with all this. It's called cognitive dissonance. The human mind struggles with having two opposing ideas occupy the mind at the same time. If I suggest that you imagine that the protestors, looters, the people you see complaining on Facebook, etc. may be protesting actual injustice, it makes you uncomfortable. So much so that you may even attempt to avoid thinking about it. Why? It's because accepting this thought would require you to acknowledge the possibility that the people with whom you identify (the white people, the authorities, etc) might be the oppressors in these scenarios. Once you accept that they are the oppressor AND that you identify or see yourself as like them, that leads to the next logical question: does that make me bad too? Am I the oppressor? You undoubtedly consider yourself a good, kind, loving, and fair person. As such, you would never side with or be like the bad guys. So, you MUST continue to believe that the Black people protesting and complaining are misguided souls who just don't "get it." Any other thought leads to cognitive dissonance. Here’s the fly in the ointment. Throughout American history, this has happened. One hundred and fifty years ago, when people were fighting to end slavery, white people were convincing themselves that Black people weren't actually people, in order to justify their actions. Fifty years ago, when people fought for desegregation and civil rights, people were attempting to convince themselves that keeping Black people separate made good sense. And now, all across America, people are convincing themselves that these police killings are justified, even though they (you) undoubtedly know someone who ran from the cops, mouthed off to the cops, had a gun during a traffic stop, or broke the law in some way and yet didn't get shot to death by police. You fight to justify it, because it will allow you to continue to believe that you are the good guys.

But, I'm gonna let you off the hook. I’m gonna wipe the slate clean. I am about to clear your conscience for good. (Black people, look away! I told you this was private.) Okay, here it is. Being a part of the group, or identifying with the group, that is doing wrong doesn't make you a bad person. Being a part of the group that is doing wrong AND not speaking up about it makes you a bad person. So, seeing as you didn’t know that five minutes ago, we’re gonna call it even. You’re good. But, that also means that after you put down this letter, you’re gonna need to continue to keep your conscience clear. That will mean having some tough conversations with your brethren. It might mean siding with the protesters. It might mean telling on your friends. I know it will be hard. Believe me. I don’t envy your position. Five minutes ago, you could have claimed ignorance and kept it moving. Now you actually have to be proactive. But, look on the bright side. No more guilt! So, good luck out there, folks. I believe in you. I’m here for you. (And now you are here for me, so that works out great.) If you call, I may not answer right away. I’m probably busy dealing with all the Black people who are angry with me for letting you off the hook so easily. But, that’s my problem. I got it. Don’t worry. You’ll have your hands full anyway. Okay, so... go team! Good talk. I think that went well. Rueben Brock, PhD NCC LPC