68

An Abomination. A Monster. That’s Me?

It used to be that when someone called me an abomination, I was in the presence of a homophobe. But a recent opinion column in Texas State University’s main newspaper damned me for a different reason. I’m abominable because I’m white. The column wasn’t aimed at me personally but at my kind, and the Hispanic student who wrote it began by saying that “of all the white people” he had ever encountered, there were a dozen or so who rose to the level of “decent.” The allowance that 12 of us passed muster was perhaps the most generous passage in a screed that had an unambiguous message for white people, be they “good-hearted liberals” or “right-wing extremists.”

“I hate you,” he wrote, “because you shouldn’t exist. You are both the dominant apparatus on the planet and the void in which all other cultures, upon meeting you, die.”

The headline: “Your DNA Is an Abomination.”

Yes, this was deliberate provocation. By a college student. And he’s obviously right that people of color have been systematically oppressed.

But what college newspaper would have published a column by a white student telling his black peers that they’re a wretched lot? What, beyond catharsis, did the column’s author accomplish?

And what has happened to our discourse — and how we do we make necessary progress — when hate is answered by hate, prejudice is echoed by prejudice, extremism begets extremism and ostensible liberalism practices abject illiberalism? Isn’t that how Donald Trump wins?

This wasn’t just one student or one campus or college campuses in general. This was a manner of thinking and language too prevalent among those who correctly call out racial inequities and social injustices but wrongly fall prey themselves to the bigotry behind those ills.

The far right set the tone, but the left shouldn’t adopt it. Doing so won’t get us to the fairer place that we must inhabit, and it plays directly into Trump’s dirty hands.

It may seem odd at this fearful juncture to point out any failings other than his and his abettors’. He and they are disgracing our country in ever more galling ways, with support from a fringe of white nationalists whose reprehensible ideology warrants all of the attention that it receives and more.

But the threat posed by Trump and his minions only increases the importance of being smart about stopping him, and his strategy for maintaining power includes driving wedges between us and making white Americans feel that they’re under assault. Why cooperate with that? Why be baited?

After the “abomination” column, Texas State turned into a furious, distressingly familiar theater of denunciation and counter-denunciation. The president of the university, understandably, condemned what the student had written as racist. So did the president of the student body. Campus groups representing minorities said that these rebukes didn’t take into account the slurs that they routinely endure. They’d been demonized and terrorized, so why such upset and outrage over a reversal of fortunes?

It’s a legitimate observation. It’s also a dead end. Turnabout may be fair play, but it’s foul morality. It’s also foolish politics. Mirroring the ugliness of white nationalists and the alt-right just gives them the ammunition that they want and need.

Which is precisely what some fevered activists at Evergreen State College did when they shouted down a white biology professor and the school’s white president, who stood there as one woman screamed: “Whiteness is the most violent system to ever breathe.” (I deleted the profanity between “violent” and “system.”)

It’s what an adjunct professor at the University of Delaware did with a Facebook post saying that Otto Warmbier — the American student who was imprisoned in North Korea, came home comatose and died soon after — “got exactly what he deserved.” The professor wrote that like other “young, white, rich, clueless white males” in the United States, Warmbier thought “he could get away with whatever he wanted.”

Meanwhile a professor at Trinity College in Hartford used his Facebook page to post an incendiary story about the Republican lawmakers who found themselves under gunfire on an Alexandria, Va., baseball field. Its headline included the language “let them die,” a phrase that the professor also folded into a hashtag accompanying a subsequent Facebook post.

Thanks in large part to social media, which incentivizes invective and then magnifies it, our conversations coarsen. Our compasses spin out of whack. We descend to the lowest common denominator, becoming what we supposedly abhor. I’m regularly stunned by the cruelty that’s mistaken for cleverness and the inhumanity that’s confused with conviction.

A few days ago Neera Tanden, the prominent Democratic operative who presides over the Center for American Progress, took to Twitter to cheer on the incineration of one of Rupert Murdoch’s homes. She linked to the news that the California wildfires had reached his property, and she quipped, “There’s a God. And she’s unhappy.”

A few days before that, a Huffington Post writer, also on Twitter, reacted to Senator John McCain’s 11th-hour support for tax reform by offering “congratulations” to his wife and children for “their upcoming tax-free inheritance.” She seemed to be mocking a man’s brain cancer, and she was actually treading more lightly than the writer who published a commentary on Medium months ago that took issue with McCain’s interventionist politics by saying: “I sincerely, genuinely hope that Arizona Senator John McCain’s heart stops beating.”

Thanks in large part to social media, which incentivizes invective and then magnifies it, our conversations coarsen. Our compasses spin out of whack. We descend to the lowest common denominator, becoming what we supposedly abhor. I’m regularly stunned by the cruelty that’s mistaken for cleverness and the inhumanity that’s confused with conviction.

A few days ago Neera Tanden, the prominent Democratic operative who presides over the Center for American Progress, took to Twitter to cheer on the incineration of one of Rupert Murdoch’s homes. She linked to the news that the California wildfires had reached his property, and she quipped, “There’s a God. And she’s unhappy.”

A few days before that, a Huffington Post writer, also on Twitter, reacted to Senator John McCain’s 11th-hour support for tax reform by offering “congratulations” to his wife and children for “their upcoming tax-free inheritance.” She seemed to be mocking a man’s brain cancer, and she was actually treading more lightly than the writer who published a commentary on Medium months ago that took issue with McCain’s interventionist politics by saying: “I sincerely, genuinely hope that Arizona Senator John McCain’s heart stops beating.”

She pushed back: “If we want our boys to be better, we have to raise them with the expectation they can be better, not tell them constantly that they are monsters in training.”

And if we want white people to be better, we have to tell them that they’re capable of that. Because we are, all evidence in the Oval Office notwithstanding.

Source : https://www.nytimes.com

اس خبر پر اپنی رائے کا اظہار کریں

اپنا تبصرہ بھیجیں