My naiveté
related to the inner workings of local politics has kept me biting my lips
tight before screaming loudly. There are
certain things crawling on my skin like a mosquito taking profuse bites. Yes,
my last nerve has been unsettled, and I’m past wanting to put my shoe where the
sun don’t shine.
So, it’s time
to scream.
I attended
the most recent city council meeting in hope of finding reason to believe it’s
not just my imagination. What I found
left me even more perplexed than before I entered the plush room. Given I’m here for a season, I need more than
an impressive décor to give me reason to believe we’re moving in the direction
of a loving, diverse community.
What I heard
was a bunch of hyperbole about COMO being a nice place to live, with first
class parks, a diverse community that celebrates arts, and it being the talk of
the state. Insert bull manure wherever
you wish.
Open your
eyes people.
COMO isn’t
the only community seduced by the rhetoric of inclusion. All looks great when you’re standing on the
throne of privilege, and control how diversity plays out. COMO is one of the least diverse cities I
have ever seen. Diversity is not
reflected in the way the news is dispersed, how power is shared, or in how
public policy is administered.
Don’t get it
twisted sister, COMO is a community controlled by white privilege.
This prologue
is essential in understanding my position on the plan to ban alcohol at Douglass
Park. When placed within the context of assumptions
of power and privilege, it reflects how the voice of black people is minimized,
controlled and relegated as no consequential.
It is assumed
the complaints of blacks don’t matter in COMO.
Just give it time, and it will all go away. It is understood that the black community’s
lack of real political clout makes their voice insignificant when placed within
the context of what white people think.
The response to black critique is handled by the opinion of white,
liberal condescension.
You can hear
the air of supremacy in the way affairs are managed. The voice of arrogance rants, ‘they don’t
know any better.’ We know what’s best for them, because we, well, we are white.
Saying that
disturbs me because of the hard work I have done to undo racial tension. My approach has been to seek common ground
when confronted with tension. The
problem in COMO is the absence of common ground. Blacks are forced to accept
the morsels handed them after an effort is made to be heard.
So, with that
out of the way, let me speak to the specifics related to the ban of alcohol at
Douglass Park. Ginny Chadwick, and all
of her cohorts co-signing on the ban, is communicating a subtle message rooted
in the assumption of white privilege. It
is a painful assertion that she, and those riding on the wagon, can’t hear
because of the conventions that rule her thoughts and actions.
Black people
can’t drink. White people can, but not
black people. Underage white people can, but grown blacks hanging out in a city
park can’t. Local clubs make it easy for
white students to drink, but that’s different in the mind of those who are
white, privileged, and completely unfamiliar with the nuances of black culture.
Her position
makes that claim. Sadly, she fails to understand how paternalistic her crusade
comes across. It’s reminiscent of the
goals of imperialism – to stampede into a territory, take control and teach the
people how to live honorably.
White people
can drink. Young white people can drink,
but blacks can’t handle the consequences of their drinking. When black people do it, the result is a
public health issue. The white liberals have to rescue black people from
destroying themselves before it is too late.
Insert your
favorite super hero.
So, forgive
me for speaking. I’m sorry for divulging
my feelings regarding COMO’s all-white city council and nearly all-white press.
Forgive me for chastising COMO for
failing to take diversity seriously, and for making assumptions rooted in all
of that privilege. I haven’t been here
long, but I have a long list of concerns that comes back to the same truth.
Black people
aren’t welcome at the table. We’re
simply asked to show up to watch white people eat.