Henry Rollins said, "White America Couldn't Handle What Black America Deals With Every Day." A friend of mine challenged that statement as racist. I disagreed, as I often do with that friend: respectfully, in an exchange of ideas free from personal statements or politically polarized dogma or "feels".  And now I am le blocked.

It's probably petty to feel somewhat vindicated, right?

We'd been having differences of perspective ever since another two Black men were murdered by police.  (Now check this out: I'm not going to name those two men, or link to their stories - that means, if you are reading this far enough down the road from the original post date, you're going to have to use the date to figure out which two Black men I'm talking about.)  I, considering it my duty as someone who can suppress even overwhelming emotion to engage in thoughtful debate, went there with him.  Not browbeating him and not shaming him for not already being on board with reality, just "This is the reality.  Here is the evidence supporting that reality.  Here are the counterarguments challenging one Black Conservative's assertion that racism is not a major problem in America."

I guess we ran out of piddies.  I lose more putty tats that way.

Events in the news and in the shadows take place within a framework built over the course of centuries.  Trying to explain those events without explaining the framework is the root of too much miscommunication.  I've clearly been guilty of presuming a level of education on the subject that many of my interlocutors lack.  I've been trying to argue about whether or not a given event is rooted in racism without coming to a mutual definition of racism.  I've been trying to place current events in a historical framework that my peers do not perceive.  I've been taking the willingness of some white friends to engage in these discussions as coming from a base level of awareness without any true assessment thereof.

In other words, for someone who has taught students for seven years, I've been a very bad teacher.

I believe this lack of assessment and unremitted discrepancy of lexicon to be at the root of some of the lost friendships.  It's what keeps me from thinking "well good riddance."  I don't think this guy and the guy who stopped talking to me last year (like two weeks after I flew home for his wedding, which means we argued during his honeymoon and really what kind of friend am I?) are racists.  I don't think they're willfully ignorant, which is the only sin for which I will banish someone from my heart without regret.  I think they lacked the framework to understand what I was saying to them.  Lacking that framework, I think they read a nonexistent antipathy (to use the emotion attributed to me by one dude) toward white people in general and/or themselves in particular - and always, always, cops.  They both think I hate cops.

I've been pretty clear about this: I fear cops, and that fear is 100% justified....if you understand the framework.  The history.  I understand that these two men, both of whom are intelligent and empathetic (as far as it goes), view recent events differently than I do.  I not only tolerate but esteem differences in perspective, if they are rooted in reality (as nearly as we can measure it).  Their perception that my fear is unjustified - and their conflation of fear with hatred, of anger with prejudice - is instead rooted in an ignorance I have been at pains to inform.

And so we engage in what appears to be a discourse but is more akin to one of us making statements about the nature of a table while the other is debating the worth of the strange, wide backless chair too high for anyone to sit upon.

I bet you thought it couldn't get any more frustrating. I mean, our sworn protectors have, with disturbing regularity, engaged in fatal shootings under the most questionable circumstances and evaded even the most initial proceedings geared toward *asking those questions*. When the proceedings are initiated, those too take place under the most questionable of circumstances - with sadly predictable outcomes. Every time.

We are now at a place where an *indictment* of our sworn protectors who appear to fail in their duty is a victory. As though the act of *charging* someone who may have committed a crime with that crime is some sort of concession for which we should all be grateful.

Our. Sworn. Protectors. A majority of whom hold that duty sacred. A minority of whom hold *power* sacred. A scarcer minority of whom do not see it as their duty to protect certain *kinds* of human life. The minority is the problem. But the blue line - and let's be clear, that includes the prosecutor's office most of the time - protects those it should cast out. Our sworn protectors.

I bet you thought it couldn't get any more ludicrous. Black men and women are murdered under circumstances in which an arrest is warranted, under which a moving violation is warranted, and we are told that if they didn't want to get *dead* they shouldn't have been breaking the law. As though to sell loose cigarettes or *maybe* roll through a stop sign was the same thing as pulling a weapon on our. Sworn. Protectors.

Black men and women die in police custody. Who conducts the investigation? Those police. I bet you thought it couldn't get any more farcical.

Well. Here's the tale of a sick kid who called 911 three times reporting his life was in danger. No officers were dispatched. His father, fearing for his son and seeking emergency psychiatric intervention, called 911.

The officer who was dispatched shot that sick kid six times (four in the back) and that kid died. A stray bullet struck and killed a bystander. And here is what happened next:

1) The medical examiner's office was told this was not a police-involved shooting, and so did not conduct its procedure in such cases.

2) The families of the dead filed wrongful death suits. Because, among other reasons, they have been conditioned not to expect justice in any other form for the lives taken from them.

Okay, now take a deep breath.

3) The cop involved in the shooting. Who took two lives under *whatever* circumstances. Who took up badge and gun and swore an oath and ostensibly prepared for whatever would come thereafter. Filed a *countersuit*. Against the *estate*. Of the *sick* *kid*.

I was telling someone yesterday that I excel at righteous political fury, but don't *do* interpersonal anger. I wasn't expecting to wake up this morning and prove at least half of that self-assessment.

Hey, something has been happening in discussions I've been having lately, and I've been letting it slide without comment. Lemme not for a sec:

The assertion that you possess privilege, and that said privilege affects your perspective and therefore your choices, IS NOT A SLIGHT ON YOUR CHARACTER. It's almost never intended to be, certainly it never should be. The possession of privilege is not a thing with objective moral valence. It is neither a good thing, nor a bad thing. The valence depends on what you do with it, as with the possession of any power or advantage.

So when someone says, "It appears you are privileged on this axis, and that may be affecting your assessment of this situation," I beg you to receive it as feedback rather than criticism (a careful distinction, I am aware). If that someone *is* disrespecting you in their tone, that's not okay, I'm not saying otherwise. I'm saying, if that assertion itself strikes you in an uncomfortable place, try to sit with it for a second without projecting your discomfort into a) your consideration of and b) your response to this thought.

(In general, I tend to phrase such things as questions, because I genuinely hope you will ask them of yourself rather than hear accusation coming from me and plead not guilty.)

Because your privilege has no correlation with your character. That's its nature: it is a thing you have by virtue of external factors and/or phenotype in which you played no role growing up and little to no role since.

I am a straight cis-*dude* who grew up in a great deal of economic comfort (if not *always* the social privilege that typically accompanies such). I have the habit of being grateful for my privilege on that last axis because it has literally saved my life a large number of times since my birth. The others, I can understand as neutral facts absent my choice. But if I blunder around in discussions or interactions with people who are not privileged on the same axes and cause offense - or just wield my ignorant world-view in debate against someone who knows better? *Then* my privilege is getting in the way - my way, and the other person's. That's when I need to take the step back and account for its presence as a lens in my perspective.

None of that means I should be defensive about *having* the privilege. None of that means I need to apologize for having it, and I guess I'm fortunate not to know anyone who'd ask me to.

I'll never ask you to. So if you hear otherwise in discussions with me, let me know and I'll back the truck up and restate myself. If you think someone's demanding your apology for being who you are or coming from whence you came? Well, they aren't entitled to it - but don't *not* consider how those things are affecting your perspective and whether or not the perspective of someone without your privilege may be better informed than yours.

Educators around the country are making good-faith attempts to educate our young about Islam - its tenets of belief, its daily practices, its cultural trappings.

The backlash they experience is strong enough to prevent the education in question, almost every time. Suspended teachers, closed schools, cancelled classes.

I used to say knowledge and understanding could cure ignorance and fear. Now the hierarchy has flipped: ignorance and fear are (if you'll forgive me) trumping our efforts to raise the next generation to surpass us in empathy and egalitarianism as we have surpassed our parents, and - face it - as Millennials have largely surpassed us.

This must cease.

The burden is not on the educators themselves. It's on the administrations supporting them.  It's not a light burden: it is difficult to receive spurious claims of offense and of treasonous activity. It is frightening to receive threats to campus safety, no matter how high or low in credibility.

So I have a question for those administrators: in our nation's recent (say, past 65 years) history, how often have the centers of secondary and higher education been the breeding grounds of desperately needed progress? How often have they been the last places to welcome the open, considered, and nuanced exchange of ideas? How often have activities on those campuses served to energize their charges, instilling within them an unshakable commitment to reduce some form of suffering in the world?

Let's implore those administrators to stand by their educators' efforts. If the campus must close, carry right on with the curriculum when it reopens. Don't cancel the class. Definitely don't suspend the teacher (although, as a dear friend observed, that's one of those "crazy-christian colleges" and likely would have done so anyway).

The fear-mongers among us want theirs to be the only voices teaching us of the things they want us to fear. Let us not be complicit in the success of their efforts.

This time, let's HOLD ON to the realization that most of what we complain about is ridiculously trivial. (We *get* to complain anyway, but the perspective matters.)

That no matter how much turmoil we've experienced within the US recently (I'm including the resurgence of violent overt racism here), we must not blind ourselves to the suffering of others.

Let's not break out scales and try to *weigh* that suffering for comparison and contrast, if we can avoid it.

When your empathy and attention start to wane, don't let them fade entirely. We cannot maintain constant vigilance and active soul-deep empathy for every sorrow of the world. Don't let anyone try to tell you you should; your soul needs care and your life deserves to be lived without the constant pain that would engender.

But when it fades, don't let it fade entirely. Fold some slice of today's awareness, of your outpouring of support, of your demand for more information and for short- and long-term solutions, into your memory. Slip them in a place where you can access them from time to time, and when you do - reiterate your outpouring of support and demand for solutions.
Don't wait for 11/13/2016 to say "Je me souviens et mon coeur est toujours avec Paris."

Fictional characters are generally expected to take actions exclusively (or almost exclusively) based on their beliefs.  You are not a fictional character.  You are expected to take actions based on beliefs, emotions (mostly fear and pleasure), thoughts, and literally nothing meaningful at all - just random stimuli in your environment that slip through your perceptual filter and prompt action you consider after the fact.

I think this is good news for certain of our actions in life.  Especially the ones people challenge as in some way prejudiced.

If you start off with the assumption that all of your beliefs are borne out in all of your actions, of course you're going to get defensive/frustrated/angry when someone says your actions/words were offensive/discomfiting/otherwise unokay.
You may not think you make that assumption, but ask yourself: when someone challenges something you did/said, do you defend yourself with what you believe?

This might sound like: "Oh, of course I didn't mean it, because I am a feminist/believe in equal rights for all/actively fight this -phobia or that misogyny/etc."

Or worse, so much worse: "You misunderstood me/took it the wrong way. I believe this/that/the other thing, so obviously what I just said/did isn't a problem." This is usually followed up with a "Jeez, lighten up, you!" and/or "You're so sensitive!" and/or It's not always about race/gender/etc.!"

As though holding a belief/value meant you could never do anything contradictory. Jeez, what are you, perfect? Cut yourself some slack. Doing and saying things that violate some value of ours is almost a guarantee of the human condition. Live long enough, socialize with other people, it WILL happen.

If we let go of this assumption, I think it will be easier to hear and accept when someone feels wronged by our words/actions in some way. Easier not to discharge the anxiety of these moments by placing the burden on the party feeling wronged. Easier to accept that maybe we screwed up and that has no necessary implications for our personalities or belief systems - just that we screwed up.

And if we routinely find ourselves screwing up in similar ways, maybe it will be easier to step back and look at the difference between our professed beliefs and our patterns of behavior, because there's still no indictment of our overall worth or esteem. It just means we screw up pretty often and need to change.

If we do bring our beliefs into those discussions, it might look like this: "I am so sorry. Please tell me exactly what it was that made you feel the way you did [if they haven't already]; I really believe in this/that/the other thing, and I want to try to live like that and treat other people like that."

And I think it's okay to open/continue a dialogue like that even when we're feeling a little indignant. We can deal with the other person's concerns now and our indignation later. Maybe the former will help the latter. (Also, maybe not. Maybe we need to whine to our friends and hear them say, "So-and-so was right, you were wrong, but you handled it well.")
Hell, the person I have to have this dialogue with the most often is myself, and it's still a challenge.

Fourteen years ago, I was exhausted. I'd just gotten back to Poughkeepsie from my uncle & aunt's wedding in SLC. While my friends were catching me up on the weekend's events that Monday night, I drank. Bunches. (It was not unique that I drank bunches, but that I did so while physically and emotionally exhausted on a Monday.)

I woke up realizing that I had failed to set my alarm clock and that Tuesday morning class would not be happening. I pulled myself off the futon into my desk chair and opened my NY Times morning update. While I was reading about one plane, Outlook Express chimed its merry New Mail sound to notify me of the second.

I wandered out into the living room. I wasn't the only housemate pacing around looking bewildered.

We wandered out of the house. We weren't the only ones in South Commons pacing around looking bewildered.

We wandered to the Villard Room. There was little room for pacing; bewilderment had faded into genuine shock. And, yeah, terror. Cellphone reception was down and landlines were no better; there was an antenna atop one of those towers and the lines were clogged solid. People couldn't reach their families, their friends. Alums were making their way out of the city back to campus - often hiking across bridges before finding their way north. When they arrived, the shock in their glassed eyes made ours look like eagle-keen awareness.

That day shaped more of our lives over the ensuing 14 years than I think we account for sometimes. In that time, there have been more nights I went to bed exhausted and awakened to a changed world. Thankfully, every time the shift has been that immediate and that seismic, the change has been for the better.

The threads of change that have increased the amount of suffering in the world - in this country - have been far more insidious and hard to pin down. I think we've spent so much time this almost-decade-and-a-half fighting Big Obvious Enemies that most of us let down our guard against the lurking blights that are only Enemies if we anthropomorphize them (I'm looking at you, Ta-Nehisi).

Now we've got a country in so much pain from so many injuries that it's hard to separate one from another well enough to *begin* triage. And so many of us don't even see or feel the injury, caught up in battle-lust or denial or the weary combination of the two.

Our hair-trigger responses to the differing perspectives of our peers isolate us into scared packs of homogeneous belief. We lash out at the smallest hints of racism, transphobia, misogyny. Or we lash out at the smallest hints that our traditional beliefs and rituals are being attacked by progress, treating equality as a zero-sum game we are losing because others are winning. We numb the tectonic cognitive dissonance of equality as zero-sum by filling the split with confirmation bias.

We speak everywhere of assault - the assault on gay marriage, the assault on Christianity. The assault on the Confederate soldiers of the past, the assault on the Black bodies of the present. The assault on women's reproductive rights, the assault on men's rights. Only a handful of times are we actually referring to physical violence - even when we are, it is the ideological violence that arouses our righteous ire. We are hyper-vigilant against these assaults, often defending ourselves and our pack far beyond what the situation warrants. Or we defend against specters that disappear when we strike.

So many in our scared packs are jailed in the past, seeing only the echoes of what came before in what occurs now. Our collective memories, unreliable as they are, present themselves as the Gospel according to which we must interpret the state of things.

Acute trauma followed by shock. Hypervigilance, constant re-experiencing of the trauma, altered sense of self, deep mistrust of others. There is a clinical term for the symptomology I describe. This country has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.