Tired of the talking heads

I'm exhausted. I really am. I'm experiencing disenfranchised-group-fatigue (DGF). I could hang in there with the best of them when Hillary Clinton was berated for having a vagina, when Sarah Palin's decision to run for high office was automatically made her a bad mother because she had a bunch of kids, when Barack Obama was called unAmerican because his middle name is Hussein and conservatives insisted he was a secret Muslim but really...I'm just over it. I'm so over it that during the last couple of days I've been unable to watch CNN or MSNBC since it's all Sotomayor bashing all the time.

OK...I get it. Perhaps people are uncomfortable because there are some nonwhites in high ranking places. I understand that there are a great many people who want to protect their "way of life," but doesn't it ever just get old?

I keep hearing people bring up the "wise Latina" comment as if it was poor judgment or a misuse of language. And I'm sick of hearing about "bias." As if minority groups are the only people in this country who hold biases.

So let me get this straight...For most of the history of this country, our laws were written by white men, most voters were white men, our presidents were all white men, most of the Supreme Court Justices were white men. During this history, who seems to have benefited the most from the laws of the land? Ummm...White men! Talk about biases. So why exactly should I entrust the destiny of this country into the hands of the very people who have historically oppressed every group but their own? Oh. That's right. Because they are the all mighty, wise, white men.

I don't have anything against white men. But I think that if we're going to talk about race or ethnicity "clouding" judgment all groups should get the same treatment. Could you imagine Chief Justice John Roberts ever answering questions about his whiteness the way Sotomayor has been asked about her Latinaness? It doesn't happen because we tend to think of whiteness as mainstream, something that is in while all else is out.

So for now, I'm avoiding television, because quite frankly, I've heard enough about affirmative action hires and the "advancement" of minority groups.

And this was supposed to be a post-racial society.

Race still matters

Over the course of the last three or four months I've had the opportunity to speak openly about race with my friends -- black, white and Latino. Race was always something my black friends and I spoke of openly, but my white friends always seemed to feel squeamish when the subject came up. I learned over the years this was likely a response to fear of being called racist, which I somewhat understand. But I've made a point to try to press my friends to speak about race at least conceptually since the election and I hope others are trying to do this as well.

What I have found is disappointing. Although some identify themselves as progressives or liberals, they hold the same conservative views about race that have been and perhaps will always be part of the master narrative. What I hear most often is "race doesn't matter," and "I was raised not to see color." But when pressed with more questions, these arguments tend to evaporate into debates about wherever discrimination exists and even occasionally if it really matters (i.e. "I know plenty of hard-working, successful black people").

The argument that discrimination has been diminished since the Civil Rights Movement won't get any dissent from me. I know it has. But it has not been eliminated. And what frustrates me is the commonly held position that because discrimination and racism are less tangible and visible than they were in the past that they do not exist or matter. Discrimination does persist and will continue to do so until we can speak openly about it without evoking the old "race card" rebuttal.

We have an obligation to each other to really engage in a conversation about race and racism, without reducing it to anecdotes and stereotypes. I plan to continue discussing it within my circle and I hope I'm not alone.

I've been to the Special Olympics and I was proud to go

I don't want to make a big deal about President Obama's late night remarks about his bowling score. He apologized and it's important for the nation to accept his apology and move on. But I think it's important to clarify why people were upset it.

My sister is 22 years old. She'll never drive a car or go to college. She'll never take a trip to the mall by herself. She'll never get married or start a family of her own. And I cannot tell you how painful it is to watch someone struggle with basic tasks like reading or paying for a sandwich at a deli. My sister has autism and when she does something that seems minor to the rest of us, it's a big deal to my family. Each time she does something without prompting or reaches a milestone in her development it brings tears to my mother's eyes.

When my sister was younger she participated in the Special Olympics and she took the third place prize in a relay race and I was so proud of her I remember that day as if it was yesterday, even though it was about 10 years ago. The focus it took for her to run that race and do something other teenagers take for granted was heartbreaking. And she needed to do it. My sister doesn't understand everything but she knows she's different. She knows that even though there are only three years between us, life will always be a little harder for her than it is for me. Everything she does is tainted by her autism. Running in that race was important for her because it was something she could be proud of.

I heard a lot of people defend the president and I know he didn't mean anything by his remark, but the larger issue is this: everyone in that room laughed at his joke. Everyone in the room poked fun at the Special Olympics, as if it was a punchline. For me, that was the most disturbing part of the interview -- That my sister and the other athletes who compete in the Special Olympics are funny in some way.

My sister didn't choose to be born with a disability anymore than I chose to be born female and black. She didn't choose it. To laugh at people who train to do something that is supposed to be confidence-building is disturbing and beneath us as Americans. We laugh at things we don't understand, rather than trying to understand them. We take the low road, because it's easier than taking the high road.

I don't find anything funny about mental or physical disabilities and I doubt I ever will. Until you've fought those little battles and accepted the limitations of someone you love, you can never understand the courage it takes for someone with special needs to participate in something the rest of us mock.

And until you've seen the dedication the organizers, athletes and parents have with your own eyes, you cannot understand how wonderful this organization really is and how much it means to everyone involved.