Snowed In! And other stuff.

We got several inches of snow yesterday, which for Atlanta is quite extreme. My father flew in from Hawaii just in time, or else his flight probably would have been cancelled.

We're planning on spending a quiet weekend at home. I don't want to drive anywhere until this nasty snow melts.

I've been following the New Life missionary scandal mostly via Bastardette. It's getting more and more tangled. They're turning against each other. Their lawyer, Jorge Puello, isn't a real lawyer, and he's suspected of trafficking kids from El Salvador for prostitution. There's this matter of a supposed $60,000 bribe. The ringleader, Laura Silsby, was probably motivated by greed. I do feel sorry for the two teenagers in the group; their parents were criminally irresponsible to have involved them in this mess.

I'm sure there'll be more twists and turns, plus a few tell-all exclusives and books. Sadly, at least some of the New Lifers will make on the profit on this story when they're released from prison.

I'm waiting for the inevitable movie, which will probably be some kind of made-for-TV crap. I'd see it, if was of real cinematic quality. Perhaps the Coen brothers? Or González Iñárritu. Trailer voice: "A nation in peril. Fear of God. Love of money. Desire for children. Combined in one woman. Snaring others into her web and dragging them into the moral abyss." Laura Silsby played by Meryl Streep. Judge Bernard Saint-Vil played by Jimmy Jean-Louis. Jorge Puello played by Benicio del Toro.

On another topic, I remembered recently that I wanted to link to this post from last month at Restructure: "White people’s family roots are deeper than those of ethnic minorities."

I love this post. It absolutely eviscerates a common and irritating stereotype: that minorities have "deeper roots". I run into this all the time. Often, it's very well-meaning and put across in a self-deprecatory fashion. "Oh, I'm not very interesting, I'm just a plain vanilla kind of family, I'm a mutt, I don't have any special ties to another culture..." Even though it's often intended in a positive way, it has the potential to be really insulting and damaging.

I'm certainly insulted by it. I mean, I can trace my white ancestors back 500 years, to York and Hanover, with a few mouse clicks. I'm very connected to American culture, and I feel a strong connection to England as well. The fact that I'm not white shouldn't mean I'm an automatic foreigner to Anglo-American culture. On the other hand, I can't even read or write my father's name in Japanese, much less my Japanese grandparents' names. I don't speak Japanese. And this lack of knowledge isn't wholly by choice, it's because I grew up partly in a racist environment where being marked as non-white meant you were supposed to conform culturally or else face verbal and physical attacks.

Like Restructure says, the stereotype of "deeper roots" masks the responsibility for cutting off those very same roots.

I can think of another, more subtle effect.  White people often talk about being cut off from their roots in the context of feeling a kind of existential angst that propels them into a desperate search for meaning.  That's quite understandable.  Modern American life increasingly isolates people.  Extended families are scattered all over. Family and community ties break apart.  The problem is that people often don't realize that these isolating social forces affect minorities just as much and even more.  I think in a lot of movies and books and art, the angst of middle- and upper-class white people is cast in a really portentous, heroic, important light.  Take that George Clooney movie Up in the Air, which I didn't see, but I heard it was about an angsty white business traveler.  Nobody makes big budget movies about angsty Mexican landscapers or angsty black postal workers or angsty Korean convenience store owners.  When you get into more independent movies, you finally start to see portrayals of people of color addressing complicated psychological pain: Michael Kang's "The Motel" is a great example.  But usually, any minority in a lower-class job is stereotyped as hard-working but happy, or oppressed and sad and noble.  Often, they help the angsty white character discover what's really important in life.  Because they are simple people and they have roots.  Gah!

Anyway, I love Restructure's take on the topic.  I also recommend her post "Libertarianism is rational for rich white people only".  It's short, sweet and to the point.  My only quibble is that libertarianism is increasingly rational if you're a person of color who is very rich, but the core of the argument is awesome.  It's one of my favorite libertarian takedowns, although China Mieville's Floating Utopias article is always going to be #1 for me.  I love the fact that a bunch of libertarians swooped in on the comments and dropped a bunch of awful, awful arguments that were easily swatted aside.

The Dangerous Desire to Adopt Haitian Babies

I'm a foster care adoptive parent. I can't speak for all of us, since we're a diverse bunch. Some of us have also adopted internationally and support international adoption strongly. Others despise the institution, and are angry about what the perceived hypocrisy of parents who walk past the foster kids in their own cities and states so that they can adopt from a far-away country. I'm somewhere in the middle, but definitely leaning more towards the anti side, especially after this week.

This week, I've been deeply disturbed at the swelling public desire to adopt Haitians. Haitian orphan babies. The very name is problematic. In our imagination, an orphan has no family, but the vast majority of "orphans" all over the world have living parents, and almost every single one has living extended relatives. And the children that need family care are, overwhelmingly, older children.

Quite a few other parents I know are really pissed off about it. If you want to adopt, why not consider adopting from foster care? Why Haitian babies? I can guess at some of the answers. Most of them will not be very flattering.

There's a certain group of white adoptive international parents that dominate much of the discourse around adoption in this country. The most organized of these are evangelical Christians, but many of them are secular in their beliefs on adoption. They're across the political spectrum, ultraconservative to ultraliberal, though if I had to hazard a guess, most of them are center-right in politics. I believe these people are, basically, a force for evil. If I put it in any nicer words, that would be a lie. Examining their belief system, and their potential political influence on the recovery efforts in Haiti, is a pretty terrifying process.

I was first made aware of the Rumor Queen website several years ago. I was doing some research on Chinese adoption for a blog post. They're a large community of parents adopting from China, and the site is known for posting a lot of useful data about wait times. A few years ago controversy happened in the forum when some Chinese-American parents were accused by white parents of "jumping the line". There is, in fact, an expedited program for some Chinese-Americans; it's quite restrictive and any Chinese-American greater than second-generation does not qualify. The fact that some of these Chinese-Americans were possibly be more worthy of Chinese babies because of factors like "language" and "culture" and "race" apparently enraged some of the white parents. I read about it second hand from a couple of really angry, hurt Chinese-American families. This episode should give you a taste of the quality of discourse at this and similar websites. There are dissident voices, but the environments are most often dominated by white parents who refuse to consider any of the complex ethical issues surrounding transracial, transcultural, international adoption. They're saving children. How can you argue with that, right?

These online communities are often very hostile places for adoptive parents of color. They're even more hostile, of course, to adoptees and birth/first parents who want to discuss more complicated perspectives of adoption.

I stumbled on Rumor Queen again recently and was shocked to see what was going on. The whole site has gone gaga over adopting Haitian babies. It began with concerns about Haitian children, and is evolving into a coordinated plan of action to put pressure on political representatives for a Haitian babylift.

Also, I’m hearing about plans to bring more children (as in, thousands) into the U.S. all at once on airplanes. There are some precedents for this, there was Operation Peter Pan / Pedro Pan in Cuba in the 60’s, and then there was Operation Babylift in Vietnam in the 70’s. IIRC they did something similar in Korea in the 50’s, but I’m not sure it was given a name. At any rate, there is precedent for allowing a whole bunch of orphans into the U.S. who do not already have parents waiting for them. The U.S. government has not yet given the green light on this, and I’m unclear at this point who exactly gets the final word on it. If anyone out there has more information about it, please share. If it can be done in a way that ensures they are only bringing true orphans over then I’m all for it and would get behind it in a letter writing campaign. However, I would want someone overseeing the effort who can make sure things are done ethically. Someone with the ability and the clout to insist upon it.

The concern that "things are done ethically"... that's a nice thought. The comments dispense with that window dressing. They're full of demands that we have to get the kids out now, now, now, before they die, die, die. The practical reality is that after a horrific disaster of the magnitude of the Haiti quake, it's completely impossible to determine whether any abandoned child is a "true orphan". It's a process that is going to take months and even years.

This post from a more informed international adoptive parent blogger is a more reality-based examination of the issue. Adoptee bloggers who also study adoption academically -- among them Harlow's Monkey and A Birth Project -- are deeply concerned about the parallels to massive child extraction events like Operation Babylift. These were not shining humanitarian moments. Many of the adopted children found out later that they had parents and siblings left behind who wanted them, or even relatives in the United States who were searching for them.

In countries like Haiti that suffer so severely from poverty, citizens have to take the risks of globalization, but reap few of the rewards. Families are split apart as young people go to the cities to work, or to other countries, leaving their children in the care of relatives. Family ties are weakened by poverty, by the constant presence of disease, death and loss, but also paradoxically strengthened as families come up with new ways to endure hardship and stay together. A white middle-class Midwestern mother doesn't understand why a Haitian mother would leave her children at an orphanage, hoping to take them back later. The white mother could understand if she really thought about it on a rational basis. But the lure of the white savior narrative is powerful, and sweeps her up in a rush of emotion: fear, longing, desire. It's because the Haitian mother is a bad mother who doesn't deserve her kids anymore. The innocent baby is not yet contaminated by this evil culture. They deserve something better, cleaner, richer, more tender, whiter.

Here's another comment from that thread.

RumorQueen Says:
January 21st, 2010 at 2:07 pm
And how many children will die while they are building a new infrastructure?

Sometimes you do what you can, not what the ideal would seem to be.

It’s like the guy rescuing starfish on the beach, there are a hundred thousand starfish and a guy is throwing some of them back in the water. Someone tells him there are too many, he can’t possibly make a difference all by himself. And he says, as he throws one in the water “I made a difference to that one”.

There are going to be all kinds of issues these kids will deal with. I’ve gone out of my way so my kids know I did not “rescue” them... but that isn’t going to be able to be said for these kids. Sure, it’s not an ideal situation. But would it be better to let them die?

Analogies simplify complex issues, sometimes in an accurate way, but this analogy is just smoke and mirrors. International adoptive parents are really fond of this starfish metaphor and this is not the first time I've seen it in play. It always boggles my mind. Why is adopting a third-world "orphan" like throwing a starfish back in the ocean? Maybe the poor starfishes needed to be on the beach as part of their mating cycle and the guy is messing with them because he's sadistic. Maybe he has a weird sexual fetish about echinoderm-hurling. Or maybe he's just a dumb-ass. The analogy effectively obscures the issue of motivation, as well as the implication of "saving".

Let me try another analogy. Let's say you live with your child in a house that burns down. You're dazed, confused, and burned. Your neighbor says, "I think I should take care of your child". You say, "Thanks for your offer. But my child really needs me now, and I think they wouldn't sleep well in a strange house. If you could just give us a tent and some food and some bandages so we can camp out while I get better and look into rebuilding, we'll be OK." Your neighbor says, "that's too logistically complicated and I'm concerned about the security situation. I just want your child." You say, "Thanks again for your concern and I'm grateful for any help you can give me. If you're so worried about my child, maybe you could let both of us stay in your guestroom for a while? That way my child could be safe and would sleep well too." Your neighbor says, "No, we have an interdiction-at-sea policy and visa restrictions will not be relaxed. Just give me your child. Actually, nevermind. I don't even need your permission anymore. I'll just take them."

Here's the worst comment on the thread. It was let through without a rejoinder. Mine was blocked.

49. Proud2Adopt Says:
January 22nd, 2010 at 1:03 am EthioChinaadopt – the issue is that if someone is paying $30,000 to adopt a child, they want a baby! Its as simple as that! I’m really tired of hearing about how so many of these kids are just split from their parents. Lets get the 380,000 kids that were ALREADY orphans OUT of the country & into waiting homes, that way the focus of orphanages can be on those children who are NEW orphans or split from parents & families. The reality to me is, I would LOVE to adopt one of these children. No, this isn’t a NEW passion spurred from seeing photos on TV. But hopefully with the dire situation they will waive much of the 25K+ fees for families like mine to adopt one of these children here! Amen!

I admit I wasn't nearly as diplomatic as I could have been. But that's not my strong point. I was way too irritated with these people. In case you're wondering why the maniac above me was referring to $30,000 for a fresh baby, I really don't know. I'm not up-to-date on the latest prices in the international baby market.

The next babylift thread was racist beyond belief. Rumor Queen ran footage of a riot at a food distribution point.

Desperate target Haiti’s orphanages

In a country where it is survival of the fittest, what chance do babies and children in an orphanage have?

The Vietnamese Operation Babylift was driven both by racism and fear of communism. But this framing, on the other hand, is pure 100% unadulterated racism, invoking the most damaging stereotype of black people invented by white imperialists. "Survival of the fittest" implies that Haitians are nothing more than animals. Their children need to be removed immediately or they won't even grow up to be human beings.

I haven't watched a lot of news in the past week -- probably less than 10 minutes of footage a day from sources like CNN -- but in those brief times, I've seen plenty of examples of orderly food distribution. I've seen Haitians rescuing each other. I've read accounts by independent media, small media and even the mainstream media -- "Despite isolated incidents of looting, violence and other criminal activity, the overall security situation remains calm" -- that security fears have been massively overblown.

Rumor Queen attacked me for my blocked comment later on in that thread. I then left a harsher comment (I refrained from profanity but did use the word "strip-mining") and my comment was, of course, also blocked.

Luckily, policy makers aren't listening to these people with full attention anymore. There are competing voices. UNICEF, Save the Children, SOS Children's Villages, pretty much every single large secular children's aid organization, plus some of the religious ones, are advocating a total stop to new international adoptions until quake recovery gets underway and far-flung families begin to come together again. Adoption should be the last resort. I agree with that. I'm somewhat moderate in that I don't see a huge problem with removing children who have already been through most of the process and have already met their adoptive parents. If a bond is already there, there's no point adding another loss. And a lot of the adoption process is true red tape that doesn't serve anyone's interests. But airlifting children who just "appear to be orphans" (as several Catholic leaders in Miami have been demanding) and almost certainly cutting them off from their roots... this is wrong. It's wrong for the children, it's wrong for their relatives, and it's wrong for the country of Haiti.

There was an adoption story I heard on NPR yesterday that really touched me. It's not the typical adoption narrative we've been hearing:

Margalita Belhumer, a Haitian-American who lives in New York City, was visiting Haiti when the quake struck nine days ago. She shaded her eyes from the tropical sun as her 8-year-old daughter, Melissa, squatted at her feet.

"I'm seeking to leave with my daughter. People are dead, place crumbled. She has nowhere to live, so I can't leave without her," Belhumer said.

She said she raised Melissa since the girl was a newborn infant, wrapped in a sheet and left on the sidewalk in front of St. Joseph's Catholic Church. Child abandonment by destitute mothers is not uncommon in Haiti. While Belhumer worked at her job as a security guard in New York, she paid a family to take care of Melissa. Belhumer said she had begun the adoption paperwork before the quake struck.

"I started the adoption process, but I started last month. But I've had her since the first day she was born," she said.

If any adoption is expedited, it should be these ones. But these are also the people who are least likely to have the ears of politicians. Everyone wants Haitian babies. Haitian adults, and Haitian families, are another matter. There has been no announcement that more visas will be granted to reunite Haitian-American families.

This report by a US adoptee-rights blogger, based on notes from a USCIS teleconference, has a chilling quote.

Hundreds of adoptive parents, paps, orphanage directors with dozens of children, and even, apparently, loose children gather outside the US Embassy. Many come unannounced demanding entry. Officials have set up and are refining procedures for entry into the compound, interviews, and decision making. (Procedures were discussed in detail, but I"ll hold that for another entry.) They emphasize that the Embassy needs advance notice of petitioners so someone can go outside, locate them, and escort them through the gates. Only adoption cases are being handled. (Haitians with other Embassy business, including those with pending pre-quake visa and immigration applications are being turned away for now.)

Talk of adopting orphaned Haitian babies seems to be swirling all over. And though I'm concentrating my ire on a certain class of white adoptive parents, I'll have to note, not everyone full of this dangerous desire is white.

"I wanna just go down there and get some of those babies," Latifah said on the Today Show Thursday. "If you got a hook up, please get me a couple of Haitian kids. It's time. I'm ready."

As someone who has adopted before, here's some questions I'd ask of anybody in the U.S., of any race, who is really serious about this.

- Do you know what a homestudy is? Are you ready to pass one?
- Do you realize it will be almost impossible to adopt a baby, hard to adopt a toddler, and that the vast majority of children who really need to be adopted are older children?
- Do you know what attachment disorder is? Children with inconsistent caregiving in early years often develop this to some degree. They may experience the expression of love as a terrifying loss of self. They may do anything in their power to make you stop loving them, including physically attacking you, your pets or your other children. There is no known 100% effective therapy for this.
- Do you understand the effects of various prenatal exposures? Do you understand and accept that your child may grow up with irreparable brain damage?
- Are you ready to establish routine visits to one, two, three, all of these and more: therapist, psychiatrist, physical therapist, neurologist?
- Are you prepared that your child may resent you or hate you for taking them away from everything and everyone they've known and loved? And that even if you've explained to them that they're never going back, they may still try to push you away, because in the back of their minds, if they're bad enough, you'll send them away, and they'll go back to everything and everyone they've known and loved?
- Are you prepared to have a child so terrified from trauma that they act as if they were half their developmental age? That they wake you up screaming every night at 3 in the morning? That they rage uncontrollably if you don't stay by their side every waking minute?
- Are you prepared for your friends and family to perhaps shrink away from you because they don't understand why your child acts the way they act -- maybe it's because you don't love them enough, or you don't spank them enough -- you're doing it all wrong and it's all your fault.

If you can answer "yes" to all of these, congratulations. You might be ready to adopt from foster care. To adopt from Haiti, answer all the above questions, add the effects of malnutrition, add a language barrier, and multiply the child's trauma by a factor of ten. And subtract a lot of money. Unlike foster care adoptions, which are basically free, you're going to have to pay legal fees. Maybe even $30,000. And children from foster care will have permanent Medicaid, no matter your income level, but if you adopt internationally, it's up to you to find a way to pay for all those psychiatrist visits you'll almost certainly be needing later on.

Here are some additional questions:

- Are you aware of transracial adoption issues? If you're a black American, are you aware that transcultural issues can be just as intense as transracial ones?
- Do you have a connection to a Haitian-American community? Do you speak Kreyol or French?
- Your child will likely be Catholic and think of themselves as Catholic. Are you? If not, how will you handle the difference?
- The ethical thing to do is to try to establish contact with your child's relatives in Haiti. Are you prepared for the fact that you, as a rich American (no matter what your income level) will then be regarded as a financial benefactor/patron? If you've grown up in the US and absorbed our surface-egalitarian values, you will be unaccustomed to this kind of role, and extremely bad at it. If you refuse to make contact because of this issue, or because of fear that your child will love you better if you cut them off from their roots, then... well... you suck. I'll leave it at that.

You'd better be sure you can handle it. If you can't, your child will pay the highest cost. If the adoption falls through, your child may end up in foster care, possibly so scarred that they'll never get another chance at a family.

I've said a lot of harsh things in this post. But I also want to note that this desire can also be understood in a positive way. Children inspire love. I believe in certain universal values, and across every culture and all of history, people love children and want to take care of them. An equally universal trait, unfortunately, is the desire to exploit children. Children don't speak fully for themselves, so we speak for them. It's necessary, but it's also dangerous. Exploiting a child can be as blatant as child sexual abuse, or sweatshop labor... and it can be as subtle as wanting our children to validate us as parents. Wanting them to love us, and being angry when they don't show us love.

We're getting into grounds of philosophy and religion here, but I don't think a completely pure love is truly possible on this earth, because love needs knowledge, and pure knowledge is impossible. We try, but we don't know fully what's best for the other person, so we make guesses, and our guesses are based on imperfect knowledge. And so exploitation creeps in.

My religion talks a lot about the impossibility of individual purity and makes the acknowledgment of imperfection absolutely necessary. I think many other belief systems address the same issue in different ways. For example, in Christianity, Jesus Christ represents a pure kind of love, and other kinds of love exist in relation to that standard. The answer is not to stop loving, or to stop trying to understand, but to realize that our love is always endangered by selfishness. If we ever think our love is pure, we need to stop thinking along that track, take a step back and think again. Don't stop loving, just stop thinking that your love is infallible and all-knowing.

I'll close with a few reality-based ways to help Haitian children in Haitian families:

- Donate to SOS Children's Villages, Save the Children or UNICEF.
- Sign this AIUSA petition to request an end to interdiction-at-sea policy
- Contact your representative. Ask them to support an increase in refugee visas for Haitians and expedited family reunification visas for Haitian-Americans. Ask them to support the airlift of Haitian children unaccompanied by family ONLY for the purposes of temporary medical hosting and NOT for the purposes of adoption.
- If you live close to a Haitian-American community, contact their organizations and ask if there is anything you can do to support community efforts.

I may add more later as I become aware.

Podcast and Update

I was on the Racialicious/Anti-Racist Parent podcast this week!

I loved having the conversation with Carmen and Tami. But I stuttered too much, and compensated with too many "likes" and "you knows". I'm very self-conscious about stuttering. I've had a problem with it since I was a young child. I always try not to use it as an excuse or crutch, so I force myself not to turn down tasks and jobs where I have to speak before groups, like teaching. I usually manage to compensate fairly well. I asked Guy today if he ever notices me stuttering, and he said, "you have a stuttering problem? I never noticed!" It's just so obvious to me whenever I'm in any sort of new situation... sometimes I'm introduced to people, they'll ask me, "what's your name?" and I get stuck for a few seconds in open-mouth-freeze-arrested-head-bob mode and I feel absolutely awful. So I'll pretend I'm distracted by something off in the distance, and once I turn my head back around I'll be ready to actually say my own name. I'm often a worse speaker on the phone than I am in person because I can't use that kind of compensating body language on the phone.

Anyway, enough neuroticism about stuttering. I think the discussion went really well. The main part for me was the transracial/transnational adoption and capitalism topic. I went over some things I'd already outlined in comments on this post. People who read this blog frequently will be pretty familiar with my positions. The other parts of the discussion were also interesting, although I wasn't really prepped for the black Barbie portion, so I feel like I trailed off on a tangent instead of focusing and tying into Tami's analysis.

As for the update, Sunny's behavior was absolutely wretched on Sunday. I think it was mostly fall-out from the flaming pinecone episode. He backtalked all day and had TWO fits. We were really stressed out by the end of it all.

Today, his behavior was a lot better. He had his chess club tonight. Sunny loves this so much that he put a lot of creative thought into getting into the exact right frame of mind to play chess. He started running laps indoors... a circuit at full speed through the hallway, then through the den and kitchen and dining room, into the computer room, jumping onto an ottoman then doing a flying leap back into the hallway, and had me help count off the laps, first in even numbers 2-4-6-8 and then in odd numbers. After about 15 minutes of intense running, leaping and yelling numbers, he was sweaty and out of breath. "I got out my energy so I can focus when I play chess!" he said. This was all his own idea, which is pretty cool. He ended up winning only 1 game out of 3, but since he beat a 13-year-old on the winning game, he was very proud of himself.

Comment on Expatriates Post

Here's a comment from Christie that's worth quoting in full:

Nice post... I have to stay away from expat message boards, etc., as they are so poisonous.

One thing I've noticed is that young white men who have been here just a couple of years are often still in the "adventure, interesting!" phase, and the really poisonous & bitter ones are the ones who married Japanese women and settled down here. I think it gets to them being powerless, often not speaking Japanese well, having to take a back seat in the extended family, being the only "foreigner" in the family & having their cultural ways marginalized, etc... and they end up wanting to leave the country, but cannot for whatever reason, leading to a trapped feeling. The bitterness just builds, and they end up seeing problems everywhere and hating their lives here.

My husband is not white, and he is *much* *much* more balanced about the good points vs. bad points of living here as a foreigner. He was often bullied and made to feel like a foreigner when he was growing up in England (his parents are from India). He really likes Japan and doesn't stress about the "oh no I am no longer the center of the world" thing. He is also well accepted and liked in Japan, although he looks middle-Eastern. He has not had any higher level of annoyances than I have (a white woman from the U.S.).

I was sorry to learn that you never have had the opportunity to really feel liked and accepted by Japanese people. I know so many nice people here that I think you would like. Partly though, the region I live in is very laid back and accepting.

My negative experiences have been in Tokyo. I'm not very fond of Tokyo. But I love the countryside, where my father's adoptive family originally lived. Sometime in the future I'd love to experience more diversity in Japan, including Okinawa and Hokkaido.

My feeling on the current state of mixed race or foreign children in Japanese schools is that they can do well in many schools & communities, especially if they are naturally sociable (and can overlook or get past initial comments & the occasional bully). However, if they have socialization issues, etc., then their "foreignness" will be used as yet another thing against them, resulting in a double whammy.

I can imagine that. Also, there seem to be several multiracial Japanese celebrities nowadays. It really sounds like Japan is on the verge of a new paradigm of race and immigration. I've become especially interested in following developments of Nikkeijin organizations. I'm always on the lookout for those types of news sources or blogs in English or Spanish. I ran across a neat documentary recently, though most of it is in Japanese and Portuguese.

Some Thoughts on Racial/Ethnic Hatred Sparked by Expatriates in Japan

Why do some American expatriates in Japan hate the Japanese so much?

If you're not familiar with this hate... it's some of the most virulent hatred I've ever seen in my life. I've witnessed some of it personally, as a bystander, and indirectly heard of much more.

This isn't all expatriates, of course. For example, my mother was an expatriate for a period of time, and she certainly wasn't like that. She has a lot of critical things to say about Japanese culture, but in a balanced way, in much the same proportion as she would criticize any other culture, including her own.

The most vocal expatriates are young white men on stints teaching English, and it's this group that also has the most evil reputation. But other expatriates types also exhibit this hatred sometimes.

Honestly, people like this are one reason I've never seriously considered going to Japan for any length of time longer than a couple weeks. A long time ago, when I was having a rocky time in college, my parents pressured me psychologically into applying for the JET program. I sabotaged my own application so that I could tell them honestly that I was denied. As someone who is not fluent in Japanese, and doesn't really belong to any community in Japan, I knew I would have to be in close contact with this type of expatriate, and I could not stomach the thought of that.

This hatred seems especially disturbing to me because I understand where it comes from. I've been treated badly by Japanese. The first time I was aware of race, and being racially different, was in Japanese kindergarten. In general, Japanese are not particularly friendly to me. To Japanese, I don't look Japanese, I don't dress Japanese, I don't even walk like a Japanese, and in Tokyo, I'm treated with distant politeness or ignored as if I don't exist. My own father sometimes casually insults my identity and accuses me of not being Japanese enough.

As a result, I often don't like Japanese. I enjoy having casual conversations with Japanese tourists in other countries about stuff like food, but I don't purposefully seek them out or go looking for deeper friendships with them. There are some exceptions, like my roommate in Mexico that I felt very close to. He was considering immigrating permanently to Mexico, and had different ideas about identity than the vast majority of Japanese.

But I don't hate Japanese. Based on my personal history I have some hang-ups and neuroticisms about Japanese that I wish I didn't have, but I do, so I compensate in practical ways. Otherwise, I just think of Japanese as human beings... flawed, complicated human beings, like all other groups of human beings.

I'm not going to provide lists and examples of bad expat behavior. You're either familiar with it or you're not, and if you're not, then you're lucky. But here's the basic arc:

Stage 1: I love Japan. Japan is so cool. It's so different over here. I can't wait to meet some samurai and geisha. I'm fulfilling my lifelong dream. This is going to be awesome.
Stage 2: Japan isn't what I thought, but it's still really cool. All these Japanese girls are having sex with me just because I'm an American. Sometimes I get the feeling people are looking down on me. Oh well, if I just smile a lot and speak Japanese better, I'm sure they'll accept me.
Stage 3: Culture shock, aching loneliness and deep depression
Stage 4: Retreating and retrenching in a safe womb-like environment with other expats
Stage 5: F%#@ these racist, xenophobic Japanese. Japanese women are manipulative stuck-up $%!@s. I wish we'd bombed ALL of Japan. I'm rude to them all the time now so I can get back at them for treating me like they do. And I can't wait to get home.
Stage 6: Now that I'm home, the bad memories of Japan are fading a bit, thank goodness. I have returned a much wiser person. I know all the weak spots of the Japanese now. In fact, I'm an expert on Asian culture. I explained this to an Asian-American once but they violently disagreed with me. Oh well, they're not a real Asian anyway.
(Alternate Stage: Stay in Japan, let hatred die down to a bilious rumbling with occasional explosions.  Post regularly on f*ckedgaijin.com).

Sexuality and misogyny and the legacy of imperialism are big parts of all of this. Imagine the expat arc as a dysfunctional romance, with Japan as the woman, and you could encapsulate most of those stages in the immortal words of Marion Barry: "Bitch set me up!"

The sex/imperialism is also an angle that's been covered by theorists quite extensively. I'd like to approach the issue from another angle, a more comparative and personal one, based on my experiences with born citizens and immigrants as well as expatriates.

Have I ever encountered the same level of hatred toward Americans? No, but I came close, once in Mexico, and once in the U.S.

When I was in Mexico, I met a lot of people who criticized the U.S. I largely agreed with the criticisms, and they were stated in a fair way. In fact, Mexican leftists who had problems with U.S. politics were always MORE charitable than U.S. leftists. They would often talk about aspects of the U.S. that they admired, such as our history of relatively fair elections. I never saw this criticism spill over into hate, though.

I also met a lot of Mexicans who were treated very badly in the U.S. and still didn't develop hatred. For example, I met a taxi driver in Guadalajara who told me that he risked his life to cross the desert to find work in Dallas, but the people there were so racist and unfriendly, it took him only three weeks to decide to go right back to Guadalajara. Maybe they're nicer in other parts of the U.S., he noted optimistically, though he had no further plans to ever leave Mexico again. Another Mexican I met spent six years in prison in Florida for a crime he claimed he didn't commit, and he still had a lot of good things to say about the U.S.

And I don't think that people leashed any hatred simply because they didn't want to offend me, an American tourist. If I was white, I might think that. But Mexicans often find it hard to believe I'm an American, even after I state it quite clearly. I don't "look American". It's a reaction I encounter frequently anywhere outside the U.S., and I've developed a pretty thick skin about it.

Anyway, one night while I was traveling in Mexico by myself, I ended up in a crowded taxicab going to a nightclub. Since we had to go a long way on a dirt road, and most of my fellow taxi goers had already had a few drinks, the conversation was heated and lively. There were a couple Mexicans and an Austrian tourist. The Austrian tourist, on hearing I was American, launched into a diatribe against American cultural imperialism. We made crappy movies, and crappy music, and crappy food, our American crap was drowning out everyone else's culture, all our entertainment was vulgar, and so on.

I got angry. I was prepared to hear this sort of thing from a Mexican, but not from an Austrian. Most Europeans have enough money and power to consume their own crap if they want; they happen to CHOOSE to consume ours. I tried to argue back, but he kept interrupting me. So I dropped the bomb. "Well what's your native way of having fun on the weekend in Austria? Burning Jews?" The Mexicans all gasped. The Austrian visibly wilted, and said in a small voice, "that was a long time ago". The conversation shifted. We'd put on a good show for the Mexicans, though: they looked like they were really enjoying the argument from the sidelines.

To this day I feel a little bad for cutting down the Austrian like that. But only a little.

Although I said I was prepared to hear this kind of diatribe from a Mexican, I never did. My overall impression was that Mexicans were rather light on the criticism when it came to the U.S. For every thing they hated, they knew something that they loved. Sadness, disappointment, anxiety, yes; hatred, no.

When I lived in Miami, I worked in a series of restaurants and bars. There was an informal but very powerful racial/ethnic hierarchy pretty much everywhere I worked in the service industry. White Anglos, upper-class Cuban-Americans and diverse upper-class immigrants/expatriates (usually European) were at the top. They were the owners and managers. The middle was composed of more Cuban-Americans and Anglos. Halfway between the middle and bottom were native African-Americans and whiter-looking Latinos. On the very bottom, recently arrived Carribean black people (Haitian, Jamaican) and other Latinos (such as Central Americans). Your place in the hierarchy was determined by 1) money 2) degree of whiteness 3) degree of blackness 4) kind of English spoken 5) kind of Spanish spoken 6) citizenship and documentation status. Since Miami is such a diverse and chaotic environment, new arrivals often weren't quite sure where they fit in the hierarchy. I know I was never sure, myself.

One day, I was outside my restaurant having a smoke break with the Jamaican janitor/busser. We struck up a conversation that quickly took a disturbing turn. She started on a rant about how the American black people were all thieves, liars, drug abusers, could not be trusted, made her people look bad, and so on. I just told her I didn't think that was a fair thing to say, but I didn't want to get in an argument with her. I felt sorry for her because she was facing a horrendous level of racism from the manager, a white Frenchman who was racist against everyone who worked there, but picked on her the most.

I wondered later, why did she hate African-Americans so much? Why not hate white people or white Europeans? After all, the manager truly was an evil worm of a person (full story of his evilness here).

One reason is that it's not very common to hate upwards. It's more common to fear the people who have power over you. If you can't separate from those people (people with separatist ideologies can hate in any direction), you have to learn how to get along with them.  And you don't have the energy to spare for hate.

When I was dealing with racist abuse in school in the U.S., I felt the same way. I didn't have time to hate the people who abused me. All my emotional energy was wrapped up in trying to answer two questions: "Why are they doing this to me?" and "How can I make them stop?" In order to try and stop the abuse I had to think like my abusers, I had to put myself in their shoes, I had to imagine how they saw me, I had to imagine how they would react if I did certain things as opposed to doing other things.

I could not afford to hate them.

I think it's much more common to hate downwards. And a subset of hating downwards is hating sideways. My Jamaican coworker was financially on a lower level of the hierarchy than African-Americans, but she also realized she was on a higher level when it came to stereotypes of morality and culture. That is, she observed that there were more negative sentiments against African-Americans than there were against Jamaicans. So hating African-Americans was a way to claim a higher position in the hierarchy, a way to claim that no, she was not on the same level or lower, she was really on a higher level.

Whenever someone is insecure about their position in a hierarchy, a way to stabilize your position is 1) find someone who is on the same level or slightly lower 2) hate them.

I think this works in the area of class, as well. Often, the people who say they hate the poor the most are the people who have escaped poverty, or who are lower-middle-class and almost in poverty. Really rich people rarely hate the poor. They can ignore them and/or exploit them without going through the bother of hating them.

An expatriate in Japan, once they hit the culture shock stage, becomes incredibly confused about their place in the hierarchy. This confusion is compounded by the fact that they don't even understand, on a visceral level, that the hierarchy even exists. The ideal of egalitarianism is very strong in the U.S. When that egalitarianism actually works, I love it. It's what makes my country great. But it's an ideal, not a reality. If you believe it's already a reality, you become blind to the existence of totally real hierarchies lying underneath the mask of egalitarianism.

People from countries with more formalized race, caste and/or class systems have more experience, more cynicism and more ability to notice parallel structures in foreign countries. They'll have a more practical attitude. "OK, I've landed. Where am I? Near the bottom... darn. Can I work my way up? Oh, it looks like this system is really rigid. Only a few rungs? What about my kids? Well, I'll adjust my expectations and see if it's worth the trade-off."

The Japan-hating expatriate has huge privilege from being some combination of white, American and male. Japanese give them a lot of room. When they act badly, Japanese will simply ignore it. The expatriate senses weakness. "They let me get away with bad behavior - that means I am better and stronger than them - I hate them because I am better than them - I am better than them because I hate them." But the expatriate also starts to understand that the Japanese don't really need them. Japan is pretty much the richest non-white country in the world when it comes to economic power and median living standards. The expatriate may start penning angry rants about Japan, but there is nothing they can really do to get any kind of meaningful revenge in a collective sense. Though they can be very cruel to individual Japanese, and then later, to Asian-Americans.

They realize the sheer uselessness of their hate, and it makes them hate even more.

I wish I had a better note on which to end this piece! 

Hilarious for Locals

The city-data.com forums are great if you want unvarnished information about any geographic area. Of course, mixed in with that, you will also get unvarnished racism and unvarnished stupidity.

SouthernExplorer
Junior Member
Looking for majority white areas of the Metro
I am from New Orleans, and my wife is from Memphis. After we got married, we tried living in New Orleans. It was ok until Katrina hit, and it became too ghetto and distressed. We then moved to Memphis, and we just did not like being white minorities. We want to stay in the south, close to Memphis and NOLA but want a big city feel. Atlanta fits the bill.

We just want to be in an area with our own kind. Moderator cut: Please no stereotyping individual races.

So, as we look to move to Atlanta, we want a majority white area. Ill be working in Midtown, and my wife is getting a job in Sandy Springs. Our price range is a maximum of $550,000. I do not mind a long commute. Thanks!

gt6974a
Senior Member
1 post huh? In that case, I'd say the Bankhead area b/t 285 and downtown. Most of the affluent live there.

SouthernExplorer
Junior Member
Great, thanks so much for your reply. Do you know the name of some of the subdivisions in that area that would be in our price range?

skipcromer
Senior Member
I second! Bankhead would be perfect.

Bankhead is.... not a serious recommendation.  But the poster did end up getting a lot of really serious recommendations. This  great explanation was given for complying with his request:

RoslynHolcomb
Senior Member
Personally I'm delighted to help these type people find that which they seek. Goodness knows I don't want them living anywhere near me or mine.

The poster is so archetypal of the plight of the Southern upper-middle-class white flighter.  Can't live in the country because they loathe lower-class white people.  The Southern cities are full of black people.  Can't move out of the South because the Yankees might look down on them.  And nowadays... can't live in the dying exurbs because they're filling up with Latinos and other immigrants.

He will eventually retire to South Carolina.  But even there, he will die frustrated.

Dekalb School Blog Charges Black Racism

I just read an interesting post at the Dekalb County School Watch: SPLOST Spending for High Schools is Racially Imbalanced. The racial imbalance is supposedly black people denying money to whites and Hispanics.

I don’t know if people in south DeKalb know or realize this, but schools in north DeKalb are totally integrated and highly diverse. Conversely, schools in south DeKalb are almost completely homogenous as they are nearly 100% African-American. Ironically, north-end schools that are integrated have been ignored as far as repairs, additions and remodeling with SPLOST dollars, except Druid Hills - which has received some remodeling to their nearly 100 year old facility - and Tucker High School, which is being torn down and completely rebuilt - but then again, Tucker is 72% African-American. That is the only school in the north end of the county to be given attention beyond the standard auditorium/career tech packages promised, some even drawn, but not yet built. Chamblee, Lakeside, Cross Keys and Dunwoody still wait for their share of SPLOST construction. Lakeside at least has architectural drawings, but those have taken years to develop. Dunwoody and Chamblee have heard rumblings, but seen no action whatsoever. Cross Keys, built in 1958, is a disaster of a building and was apparently given all of the equipment and students from the torn down HS of Technology North - but no guidance or program director. Ironically, when we voted for SPLOST 3, Cross Keys was #2 on the list of priorities - just after SPLOST 2 carry over - and well before Tucker HS.

Yes, this post is interesting, but also chock-full of racist resentment. I've been subscribing to this blog for a few months in the hope that it would actually cover real issues over ALL Dekalb's schools, but I guess not. It's another "let South Dekalb rot" person. I've unsubscribed.

I agree on one point. Cross Keys High, which I think is the only predominantly Hispanic high school in Dekalb, has been royally screwed. Most of the Latino population in Atlanta are very new arrivals and need extra language services and supports that are just not being provided. For example, I met one woman, a Mexican immigrant, who was totally unaware that her son with a learning disability had the right to an IEP.

The educational power structure in Atlanta consists of entrenched elite white minority interests contending with newer-to-power elite black majority interests. Latinos are not even at the table yet.

Beyond the Cross Keys point, which I'll grant, all the statistics and SPLOST funding breakdowns simply obscure the fact that those high schools in South Dekalb are TERRIBLE, and the African-American parents are very, very unhappy with them.

So what if the whiter North Dekalb schools don't have a newer pool? Most South Dekalb parents would LOVE to be able get their kids into Dunwoody or Druid Hills. In fact, one of the main reasons those schools are so overcrowded is that people move to those areas in order to enroll their kids in school there.

Last year the (black) superintendent eliminated paid busing to charter, magnet, theme or out-of-neighborhood schools, as a cost-saving measure, so South Dekalb parents now have even less options for their kids to receive a quality education.

If real reform was carried out, and South Dekalb schools improved, there would be no imbalance. However, I doubt that the blogger wants to see that happen.

The serious problems in the Dekalb County School System are not rooted in reverse racism. It's an easy direction to point the finger, though. "Those minorities -- they take and take and just keep asking for more!" And if Latinos didn't happen to be convenient to the argument, they would probably be lumped in with African-Americans.

If these people are not willing to pull together with everyone else in the county, I wish they would just leave Dekalb and move to South Carolina or Cobb County or something.

I also really hate the way they appropriate the word "diversity". South Dekalb schools would be a lot more diverse if it wasn't for white flight. And Clarkston High School, one of the schools on the blog's hit list, is probably the most diverse school in the system. It's listed as 80% black, but because of its location at the center of the refugee community, that figure covers an wide array of African countries as well as native U.S. African-Americans. The other 20% is also incredibly diverse. Clarkston is an underfunded, dangerous school with substandard education known for warehousing refugee kids and graduating functionally illiterate students. I would definitely not want my son going there. But according to the blog, Clarkston gets more money than its benighted students deserve... how dare they have a new pool!

Race, Choice and Consequence

Christine had a long, interesting comment on yesterday's post on race and identity. I'm not sure if we disagree or agree. I understand the point that race is not just what other people think you are.

I'd phrase it more this way. Race is first what other people think you are. If you think of the formation of racial identity as a process in time, the first step in that process is that other people assign you a race. You have absolutely no choice in this step. In the second step, you comprehend that other people are assigning you a race. It builds from there, and gets more complicated.

For people of color who are also members of a minority, the first step is often violent (emotionally), and the second step is wounding. It was definitely that way for me. I think of ethnicity and culture are positive forces that connect me to my family and my ancestry... but race was not. Race was initially a force that violently worked against my connection with ethnicity and culture. I tried to explain my Japanese heritage; they would say, "go back to China."

I later went through a third step (or maybe it was the fourth or fifth) where I accepted race and racial solidarity. In other words, since I'd been insulted for looking Chinese, I should be able to find allies among people who looked Chinese, whether they were actually Chinese-descended or not. That concept then extended to "people of color" consciousness: the idea that all people of color, while very different, have something in common because they're harmed by racial hierarchies.

I think white people experience race in a much less violent manner. Though if they have loved or greatly admired people who are not white in their lives, and they become aware that other people are treating them as "white", that second step -- the comprehension of racialization -- creates a sense of melancholy and loss. It means there is something huge that will forever separate them socially from their loved ones.

There is no choice in being initially assigned a race, but after that first step, choice does come into play. I'm reminded of Sunny's friend, the older boy with Asperger's syndrome. His mother is a light-skinned African-American woman, his father is white. Their son happens to look white. While he's brilliant on many levels, I don't know if he's ever going to have the social intelligence to form a racial identity. He can barely read basic emotions like happiness, sadness, irritation or interest. He can understand that people are having these emotions if they state them, in words, clearly, but then he forgets soon after. He's probably never going to make it past the second step, even though race has played a large role in his family's history and they talk about it freely.

One example: his mother told me that when her son went through an especially difficult period as a child -- head-banging, I think -- they were taking him to the emergency room almost every week. She stopped taking him because the hospital officials looked at her, a black mother, much more suspiciously than they looked at his white father. So his father had to become the one responsible for all emergency room visits... otherwise she was worried she'd be reported for child abuse and their son would be taken away.

I'm not sure if being unable to form a racial identity means he's lucky or unlucky!

Once people comprehend the range of their assigned identity, they can choose to present themselves more as certain race than another race, deny they have a race at all, or identify primarily as people of color, or identify primarily as multiracial. There's a lot of choice involved beyond the second stage. But making these kinds of choices presumes understanding what race is being assigned to you. You have to make it past the second stage.

There's a lot of choice, but once you start to consider the sacrifices involved in making these choices, the realistic range starts narrowing drastically. Here's a few examples.

• If a white person denies they have a race, in most environments, they don't face any penalty. Many people of color will be privately irritated with them, but not say anything about it to their face.


• If someone whose racial presentation is ambiguous, possibly white, chooses to present as white -- perhaps changing their hair, changing their name, etcetera -- they will gain benefits, especially economic benefits, but possibly also lose support among people of the race who feel rejected.
  
  (The name thing is especially huge. Because I happen to have such an Anglo name, I've gotten a lot of unknown benefits from that over my lifetime. If I'd had my dad's last name, which is almost unpronounceable in English, a small but consistent percentage of people would have thought, "I don't want to call on this girl, it's too embarrassing to have to try and pronounce this name" or "she probably doesn't speak English well, I'd better not take the risk." As long as contact is restricted to the phone and internet, I totally have white privilege... something that's in marked contrast to this fascinating account: a white woman with a "black name" and her experiences of racism.)


• When Tiger Woods claimed a primarily multiracial identity and called himself a "Cablinasian", he infuriated a lot of black people. Whether people have white ancestry or not, choosing one side or even refusing to choose a side means certain consequences. Since Tiger Woods is also filthy rich, the social penalty he paid probably wasn't terribly onerous, but it can really add up for people in more normal circumstances.


• Barack Obama chose his primary identity as African-American, not multiracial. He had an ethical reason for doing so, and I don't disagree with his choice in any way. But it was also a politically convenient choice. If he had not identified as African-American, he would have alienated many of his most passionate supporters: other African-Americans. Early in the election his African-American support wasn't guaranteed, by any means; he had to work hard at it. And he would have had to work much, much harder if he'd made a Tiger Woods kind of statement. Calling himself primarily biracial would have alienated some supporters, and it wouldn't have gained him any extra gratefulness from white people.


• If you are a multiracial person with white ancestry, but you don't look white, can't make yourself look whiter, and still claim to be white... you're regarded as pathetic and potentially insane by both white people and people of color.


• If you're not instantly identifiable by race, but visibly not white, you have the dubious freedom to say almost anything you want, and strangers will believe you. For example, I once meet a Chinese-Cuban-American who used to claim he was a "full-blooded Seminole Indian" because it dramatically increased his sexual attractiveness to white women. Of course, only a few people are so sleazy, and most want to give true and ethical answers when they're questioned. Unfortunately, the multiracial person is still going to be under a constant cloud of suspicion. Often, when they answer truthfully, they will be accused of lying. "There's no way you're ___. You look more ___!" Just by existing, they confuse people. And instead of saying honestly, "I'm confused", people often react by projecting a stereotype onto the multiracial person: "They must be confused. The fault is theirs, not mine."


• If you choose not to identify as white, but look white, you will also invoke the "confused" stereotype in people. You will sometimes be accused of "passing" even though this is the opposite of your intent.


• If you look white without making any special effort, and choose to identify as white, though without denying your non-white ancestry, because that's what strikes you as the most ethical and non-appropriative choice... honestly, I don't know enough to detail what kind of consequences are involved in this case. I think this choice might have major psychological implications, but few social ones.
  

Then add to these general consequences the group-specific consequences of choice:

• African-Americans, because of the history of slavery in this country, were subjected to attempts that tried to strip away every trace of their African ethnicity: language, customs, religion. The combined ethnicity they have in the present day is inextricably tied to racial solidarity in a way that is not true for, say, a second-generation Ethiopian-American. So for African-Americans, race is like a two-sided coin: a violent force reinforcing a vicious hierarchy on one side, a positive source of common culture and heritage on the other. Rejecting race without rejecting culture is almost impossible.


• Asian-Americans have more freedom in that it's possible to identify primarily as your ethnicity and not your race... sometimes. I say I'm a Japanese-American to my friends and my family and in certain communities, and I can be reasonably sure that my statement will be accepted and understood. But in other settings, my statement is irrelevant and will be ignored. I'll be treated as an Asian. In those other settings, no one really cares about my ethnicity, and my assigned race totally subsumes it.


• Being ethnically Latino means having to come to terms with two different sets of racial rules: the white-majority U.S. rules, plus the rules of the Latino family/local culture. Sometimes a single choice will mean two entirely different consequences in each rule set.


• Native Americans... oh boy, this most be complicated. I don't even want to go there because the rules and consequences are so mind-bending.

And then on top of these race-specific consequences, add the family-specific consequences. The mother that feels you are rejecting her if you identify strongly as a different race from her. The cousins that feel you are setting yourself up as "better than them"... and so on.

I think the process of choice in racial identity is like a feedback loop. Social acceptance/rejection influences personal choice, personal choice influences social acceptance/rejection.

Because the first steps of race are so violent, I don't want to participate in that violence by telling my son, "you are black." I don't think he has a very wide range of practical choice; I don't want to take away the small degree of choice he does have. But I don't see any realistic, positive scenario under which he rejects racial solidarity and says "I'm not black."

Right now I'm just trying to lay the groundwork for the choice he's going to start making. I want him to be aware of the depressing reality of these racial rules, but be able to consider them without fear or shame. I especially don't want him to feel that identifying as black would mean rejecting any of the people in his life that are not black... such as myself, Guy, his biological mother and his foster family.

Some Great Talks about Race and Identity, Started off by Politics

My mother and I are very political -- so is Guy, although he doesn't join groups and do stuff as much as we do -- and we talk about politics freely in front of Sunny. It's the way I was raised.

I tone down the sarcasm and dark humor a bit in front of Sunny, but other than that, the conversation stays at an adult level. Sometimes he's bored by it. Other times he's fascinated, and asks us to stop and explain something further.

He has a very active political imagination. During the election, he told me he had a nightmare where Barack Obama and Sarah Palin got in a fight, and Sarah Palin jumped out of a helicopter with a machine gun trying to kill Obama. And when we heard about the Australian fire tragedy that happened last year, killing hundreds, and I mentioned what a terrible thing it was, and that someone must have set the first fire on purpose, Sunny asked, "Was it John McCain?"

I periodically take things down to his very literal level and explain that the people we disagree with aren't bad people... it's just that we think they have bad ideas. And we also talk about the importance of getting along with people when they like different things than you, or believe different things than you.

Right now there's a lot of stuff about race in the news, and we've talked about it. The other night, he asked us "what color am I?" It's a question he's asked several times before, in different variations. I told him, "you're café." This means brown in Spanish, and it's a word he feels very positive about... he loves to say that café is his favorite color. Guy said, "your color is... beautiful!" Then I talked with Sunny and told him that if he was asking about race, race wasn't really the same thing as the color of your skin... for example, Guy and I have skin that's almost the same color, but I'm a different race than he is. I told him that race is a very complicated thing, and its hard for adults to understand, and REALLY hard for kids to understand, and sometimes people are scared to talk about it, but whenever he has any more questions, just ask us. He said, "yes, it's really complicated, and I don't understand it." He often learns by repeating something he just heard; it's like he's thinking through it out loud.

Then this morning in the car, we were listening to a Rachel Maddow podcast. She talked about the hate mail that Rep. David Scott received and how it was full of "the n-word". Of course Sunny asked, "what's the n-word?" I told him that it was a very bad insult that was sometimes used to describe black people. He asked again, "Am I black?" This time I had a better answer. I told him that much of "race" is what other people look at you and see. So you don't get to choose your race. And going by that, people would look at him as black. I told him most of his friends at school were also black.

"Is my friend [Ali] black?"
"Yes."
"Is my other friend [Ali] black?"
"Yes. And you know who else is black? Miss [K] across the street. Even though she has very light skin almost the same color as mine."
"Wow! I didn't know that. What about my friend [J], is he black"?
"Well, he looks sort of black, but he has a white mother and black father, just like your Mommy __ is white and your bio father is black, so he's also biracial. That's a word for people whose parents have different races."

I also told him that although people don't really get to choose their race, they do choose their identity. And all the different people that have loved and cared for him can be part of his identity as he grows up, so he did have some power to choose. He repeated thoughtfully, "I have the power to choose my identity."

This went so much better than last time. I think we're moving slowly along the path I outlined in the post earlier this week.

When it comes to racial identity, he has a very limited choice. He can think of himself as biracial/multiracial first and black second, or he can think of himself as black first and biracial/multiracial second. It might sound like a tiny distinction, but it can be huge. I want him to be able to decide on his own.

I made a subconscious choice, at some point when I understood my range of choices and how narrow they were, that I was Asian first, multiracial second. It's just the way the genetic dice rolled: my face looks more Asian than white, so I've always been treated as some kind of Asian. I happen to have enormous white people feet (10.5 women's, a size that few men in Japan even wear) but people look at my face first, not my feet. I'm aware that some people with the same ancestry, who look like me, have made different choices; other people with the same ancestry, who look much more white, have a different set of choices. I'm OK with my own choice.

Among all this, saying "I don't have a race," and trying to live by that statement... I don't think this is a healthy choice. Yes, race is a totally fictitious, weird concept. But if you're not white, and you reject it entirely, you make yourself psychically and socially vulnerable. Many white people won't believe you and will laugh at you and think you hate yourself. Many people of color won't believe you, and will laugh at you and think you hate yourself, and think that your choice insults them.

I've read accounts from a lot of Asian transracial adoptees who were raised along that "race-less" path, not being taught any other choices, and they're generally not too happy about it.

If you choose it freely as an adult, I think that's fine... it's just insanely difficult, and only the most eccentric and strong-willed people can manage to pull it off without being insulting.

Hank Johnson Healthcare Townhall Meeting Was Great!

As far as I could tell from outside, that is. I didn't actually get into the townhall. I went with a contingent of other people, but although we were an hour early, there was no way we were getting in. The line was already around the block. There must have been thousands of people.

We stood outside with signs: large, simple, direct, polite signs. We got some good attention, and maybe some media coverage.

Supporters of healthcare reform outnumbered opponents by a lot, maybe 5 to 1. There were a couple whacko screamers. Someone yelled "YOU'RE NAZIS" at us. Another man yelled "you want to send all our money to Kenya!" However, there were so many supporters that the really rude people never achieved critical mass, and the atmosphere outside remained calm. I saw a ton of people I knew, including our old therapist!

There was heavy security, and apparently the rules for the townhall were very strict and carefully explained at the beginning. People who yelled or were disruptive would be escorted out. I can't wait to read a summary to see how it turned out.

In related news, there's been a lot of local coverage on how Rep. David Scott, of the neighboring 13th District, supposedly "lost his temper" at a non-healthcare townhall when he was asked a healthcare question. I saw a video clip in question, and I don't believe he loses his temper. And I'm not saying this because I like David Scott, because I can't stand him. I think his political career is full of corruption, and he's nowhere near the caliber of, say, John Lewis. But in this case Scott is right. The media coverage surrounding the video clip was ridiculous and racist. Whatever the man's faults, he's a slick politician... he wouldn't freak out in front of a camera. If he was white, the headlines would have said "strong words" at the most, not "loses his temper".

Here's what he has to say in his defense:

"The first question that comes out of his mouth, 'Why did you vote for this?'" Scott said. "Wait a minute -- I didn't vote for anything. We haven't had it to vote on."

What you didn't see in our original report was the three minutes Scott spent answering the doctor's question before he raised his voice.

Watson asked Scott, "In hindsight, seeing those clips, did you lose your temper?"

"No, I did not lose my temper. I was very firm and I talked very firm -- and if you looked at that, my words were there. I didn't bite my tongue about it. I was very, very disturbed with him," Scott said.

But Scott is even more disturbed about mail he has received in the days since the story aired.

Scott held up a sheet of paper to Watson that had a picture of President Obama on it, his face made to look like the joker in Batman, a swastika on his forehead. Then he read what it said.

"They address it to n----- David Scott, 'You were, you are, and you shall forever be, a n-----'," Scott said, reading from the letter. "I got this in the mail today. Somewhere underneath this, bubbling up, is the ugly viscissitudes [sic, because 11alive.com hasn't discovered spellchecking] of racism. We should be proud we have an African American president and celebrating him willing to take on the difficult issue of healthcare, an issue that reflects 19 percent of our economy. Here we are in Congress trying to grapple with an almost impossible task -- almost two improbables together, bring the cost of healthcare down while expanding the coverage of it. That is a difficult assignment and it should not be relegated to these mobs of people who will come and hijack a meeting, and you expect me not to stand up to that and not to show that we're not intimidated?"

Scott is hosting a health fair and healthcare forum at which he will do questions and answers on the topic of healthcare reform.

It will be held on Saturday from 10 am to 2 pm at Mundy's Mill High School in Jonesboro.

I'll be there!

Thank goodness Hank Johnson will never be accused of losing his temper despite incontrovertible blackness. Maybe it's all the "Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō"s he recites... he projects an almost supernatural (though slightly gawky) aura of calmness.

Intersections

Race
Adoption
Infertility
Parenting

The main reason for my month-long blog absence is that I'm trying to figure out where to speak from the intersections.

Take adoption and infertility, for example. I'm doing things backwards, adopting before infertility treatments. There's no social pattern for doing so. There's a lot of positive stuff focused on "moving past infertility" into adoption. There's also a lot of negative stuff focused on how the framing of adoption as a second choice hurts and commodifies adoptees. By switching the order of the choices, and talking about it, am I already situated inside a noble frame, or a villainous frame? It depends on the reader, of course. I'm a very independent person, but I'm also somewhat affected by my projections of what other people might think about me. If I wasn't, I'd be a robot.

So I say to myself, "if I talk about infertility treatments, does that mean that other people will think that I'm not satisfied with Sunny because he's adopted, and when I have a "REAL" child, I'd ignore Sunny? Will they think that Sunny will be hurt?" I don't think that's the case. Of course, Sunny was adopted as an older child and he's already very familiar with the concept of a blended family -- foster, adopted, bio -- all living together.

I don't feel like a hero or a villain. I do feel guilty in one area... the best choice for Sunny would probably be to adopt another child around his age or slightly older. He loves playing with other kids so much. But he also gets along well with younger kids, and I think he'd still be happier as an older brother than an only child. Neither Guy nor myself can face entering the process again for the short-term future. It was so grueling. In comparison, infertility treatment is a walk in the park. It's had its low points... about three weeks ago, very low indeed. But it just doesn't shake and batter me the way that waiting to matched with Sunny did. Besides, we're already in a semi-agonizing waiting period for BB. That goes under "Parenting"... if I do get lucky soon, and BB comes to live with us, we'll be raising two children under the age of two at the same time. I think we're up for it, but realistically, it would be pretty challenging for a while.

I don't blog much about my infertility treatments. It's too personal. I'm OK talking about some very deep emotions on this blog, but talking about my body just feels weird. I probably have a fair number of readers who know a lot about infertility already, though! I will say, I'm staying on a very hormone-light road. In fact, I left my first RE because they kept on ramping the injectables up.

Also, I've probably internalized a lot of negative stereotypes about women dealing with infertility. We're supposed to be selfish, narcissistic and hypersensitive. I should try to explore this more, because those stereotypes are based on nasty misogynist stuff. But whenever I start, I bump into the fact that "infertility solidarity" can have disturbing consequences.

Here's one example. I hold a heretical position in infertility circles... I'm against anonymous donation of sperm and eggs, because I believe children have a right to their genetic heritage, and medical and state institutions should not be allowed to deny children that right. I think anonymous egg and sperm donation should be a topic held open for debate. In infertility communities, it's not. I've run across posts where mothers (who are anonymous, of course, like me) say very frankly that they're not even going to tell their children about the egg or sperm donation. I keep my mouth shut about my belief, although I've tried to hint at it in gentle ways. I wish I was braver about it, but I just don't have the energy for a full-scale fight on that front.

Here's another example where I couldn't keep my mouth shut. Someone on one board told a stupid racist Asian joke. I didn't even say anything about it initially. Yes, I'm a race blogger and I ignored an Asian joke, I've done it before and I'll do it again, because Asian jokes are EVERYWHERE and I can't invest my time in complaining about all of them. Someone else did object, very mildly, and then the defense came up... "well, we're infertile, so as a member of an oppressed group it's OK to blow off steam by making this joke..." At that point, I had to pop in... "AHEM so there aren't any infertile Asian women? Your argument denies my existence and is highly offensive!" At which point someone else who claimed to be Asian then claimed not to be offended (these cowardly excusers make it so hard for the rest of us) , then I rolled up my sleeves and it snowballed from there.

The idea that infertility communities are "safe spaces" is pretty much a joke for me. They're more like minefields. It also bothers me that negative coping is often encouraged by these communities, mainly, the constant accounts of freaking out and collapsing in psychic agony when a friend tells you they're pregnant. Call me a heartless bitch, but I find this very disturbing, and infantilizing, and I don't think it should be encouraged with choruses of "me too!" and "it's OK to feel that way!" In what other areas of life is this acceptable? If you lose your legs in an accident, is it OK for you to freak out whenever you see someone walking? If your mother dies, is it OK to feel constant bitter envy that your husband's mother is still living? Expressing pain, yes; collapsing and blaming other people, no. I guess this goes back to my hatred of the word "triggering". Even when we're discussing clinical PTSD, the person suffering PTSD ideally has a goal of working through PTSD. The shellshocked soldier wants to get to the point where they can just wince a little when they hear a car backfiring... not throw themselves on the ground, or demand that all cars stop backfiring. I think these women would advance farther and ultimately experience less suffering if they treated themselves with a communal mixture of sympathy AND honesty .

Then, I think, am I being a hypocrite... support for me, but not for thee? Ahh, it's so complicated. Maybe I really am a heartless bitch. I'm currently taking a break from infertility AND adoption communities.

I'm in a privileged position to be able to do so. Parenting, on the other hand, isn't something I can ever take a break from anymore. And I'm having a difficult time blogging about how parenting intersects with race. Again, there's no frame that fits my stories, and I also feel sort of inadequate. I don't have many teaching moments with Sunny about race. He overhears adult family conversations about race, but he doesn't fully understand, and in fact he gets a bit bored. He's just not interested in hearing complicated stuff about institutional racism and I'm not interested in teaching him anything before he's really ready for it.

One thing I've been thinking about recently is that the concept of "black/African-American" is especially difficult for him to comprehend. He has a sense that people with his medium skin tone are like him, but light-skinned black people (like the across-the-street neighbor kid) and dark-skinned black people (like the next-door neighbors) are different. And in a child's literal imagination, of course they're different!

I want him to grow into a positive sense of black solidarity... that is, the idea that black people 1) face a set of common problems 2) should support each other in facing those problems 3) while realizing their common strengths 4) but not minimizing their diversity. This isn't an easy lesson. Colorism is a major negative force against the formation of this solidarity. Since his peer group is mostly African-American, I worry about him picking up colorist messages... it's something I have absolute zero background in dealing with.

Most stuff about race and parenting deals with reinforcing the self-confidence of minority children in predominantly white environments. I have an overlapping but different set of concerns.

He asked me last week, "Am I black?" My answer sucked. I talked a lot about who his mothers and fathers were and what other people saw him as... I basically said "Yes, maybe, sort of, it's complicated."

I just don't want him to feel forced into any identity before he's ready. It was only last year that he kept telling me his bio father was white. In fact, he'd been confusing his mother's brother with his father. And then he would ask me if his mother was black.

So I don't want to force him into establishing an identity right now, but I also want him to develop a sense of solidarity, and I don't see these two goals fitting together very well at the moment. At least we've gone a long way towards establishing that race and identity are safe to talk about.

On the bright side of blogging, I've embarked on a major, ambitious blogging project at Racialicious: a series called "The Surface of Buddhism" (introduction and Part One here). I don't talk about my religion much. I don't even talk about it with friends and family. Yet again, I don't have a frame. I'm trying to draw one and fill it in at the same time.

Close to Home

It's on the national news. Eleven-year-old Jaheem Herrera killed himself because of severe emotional abuse. This story hits close to home because I happen to know a boy who was in the same school and grade and class as Jaheem Herrera. I'm never going to look at him the same way.

I know from my own experience how isolated Jaheem must have felt. If just one single kid in the class had stood up for him, he probably would have been saved.

I never wanted to kill myself, but I was pretty desperate. For years, I used to lie awake at night hoping that aliens would abduct me in my sleep so I wouldn't have to go to school the next morning. The abuse I went through was primarily racial, but it had other elements as well... I wasn't good at gender-conforming, and got called a lesbian a fair number of times.

It sounds like what Jaheem went through was primarily about gender-conforming but had racial/ethnic elements as well. I know the school in question is not diverse (almost entirely African-American), and although I don't know how Jaheem's family identified, it's obvious he didn't fit in.

From My bullied son's last day on Earth
Bermudez says bullies at school pushed Jaheem over the edge. He complained about being called gay, ugly and "the virgin" because he was from the Virgin Islands, she said.

"He used to say Mom they keep telling me this ... this gay word, this gay, gay, gay. I'm tired of hearing it, they're telling me the same thing over and over," she told CNN, as she wiped away tears from her face.

But while she says her son complained about the bullying, she had no idea how bad it had gotten.

"He told me, but he just got to the point where he didn't want me to get involved anymore because nothing was done," she said.

Bermudez said she complained to the school about bullying seven or eight times, but it wasn't enough to save him.

"It [apparently] just got worse and worse and worse until Thursday," she said. "Just to walk up to that room and see your baby hanging there. My daughter saw this, my baby saw this, my kids are traumatized."

She said Jaheem was a shy boy just trying to get a good education and make friends.

"He was a nice little boy," Bermudez said through her tears. "He loved to dance. He loved to have fun. He loved to make friends. And all he made [at school] were enemies."

Bermudez said she thinks her son felt like nobody wanted to help him, that nobody stood up and stopped the bullies.

"Maybe he said 'You know what -- I'm tired of telling my mom, she's been trying so hard, but nobody wants to help me,' " says Bermudez.

I feel so sorry for him. But at least he was happy once upon a time, before he came here and started the period of misery that ended his life.

I don't know what to do, but I have a few ideas. I'm going to continue writing about my own experiences with abuse in school and giving advice on the topic where I can. I'm not calling it bullying anymore, because "bully" is too light of a word. I can't be an advocate in any more public sense, however. I can be very articulate in person but not on this subject. I can write about it, but it's almost impossible for me to talk about it.

I'm going to talk to Sunny about Jaheem Herrera, and show him his photo, and explain that it happened because other kids called him "gay" and were mean to him. I'll try to find some way of telling him that I don't want Sunny to ever abuse anyone in that way, and more importantly, to stand up for kids who are being abused, because if you don't, you could end up being guilty for the rest of your life. And finally, that if he was ever a victim, I'd pull him out of school and do whatever it takes to protect him.

This story is running together in my head with another story I heard second-hand from my mother, about a discussion she had with a man who had been one of the "Lost Boys" of the Sudan. Our family has connections to refugee families, including some Sudanese, though I don't want to go into any more identifying detail on the connections.

Anyway, the man said he was willing to share his story because he considered himself an advocate. His story involved some very simple math. His group tried to go Ethiopia, but the Ethiopians expelled them back into Sudan. So on their next attempt, they walked 500 miles from Khartoum into Kenya. There were 800 of them when they started walking. There were 300 when they arrived. Wild animals, starvation, disease and soldiers had killed the rest. He was seven years old.

I couldn't even imagine. The same age as my son...

I actually tried reading "What is the What", the story of former "Lost Boy" Valentino Achak Deng, but I gave up less than 100 pages in because it was making me so unbearably sad. It's hard to say what was worse, going through all the nightmare of the civil war, or being so poorly treated in America, just when he thought he was safe.

And then many of the children of the refugees end up in poorly managed public schools where they suffer tremendous abuse for not "fitting in".

In this country that's supposed to be so rich and civilized, we can't even keep children safe in schools.

Dope Boys

We had Sunny in a spring break camp for last week. My schedule, Guy's schedule and my mother's schedule were all very busy, so we thought it would be better than having Sunny stay home and mostly complain about being bored during the day.

The organization that holds the camp is pretty close to us and has a good reputation. Sunny had fun and got lots of time playing outdoors... but we're both feeling very ambivalent about the camp and are not going to do it again next year.

This is a difficult subject to talk about, but we don't want Sunny associating too much with some of the children that went there.

The last day, when Guy came to pick him up, he overheard an older boy talking about how some other boy wanted to be a dope boy just like he was. Being a drug dealer (or more likely, pretending to be a drug dealer) is not something elementary-aged kids should be doing!

Also, Sunny told me a girl called him a bitch. He said he went to tell an adult, and I complimented him for that decision. If I was minding kids that age, I would want to know if they started using such bad language so I could go break it up.

A lot of the kids came from a very low-income part of the neighborhood and could pay a subsidized rate for the spring break camp.

I've had both friendly discussions and heated arguments with Guy over the subject of class. And class is the looming issue here... of course race is involved, but it's not the most important aspect. Sunny's friends at school are almost all black, his neighborhood block friends are all black, his summer camp is majority black... but they're all also middle-class. They're from families that have enough resources so that they can be really involved with their kids' lives, they can demand high standards in education, and they're able to minimize contact with horrible negative stuff like crack dealing.

I know that the poorer parents living in the dilapidated apartment blocks one mile and another world up the street from us want exactly the same things for their kids... they just don't have the resources to do it.

Guy admits he has a stronger reaction against what he sees as low-class behavior. He grew up in a small-town Georgia setting where his family wasn't at the bottom, but they were a lot closer to the bottom than the top. The bad things that happen to lower-class small-town white kids aren't that much different than the bad things that happen to lower-class urban black kids, except that the drug of choice is meth instead of crack.

People who grow up in protected settings (and this means me, because I also had a solid middle-class existence for a crucial stretch of my life) have a certain freedom from class-related fears. But if you grew up a few rungs from the bottom, and saw some kids fall off that ladder, that's a lesson that's going to stay with you the rest of your life.... and it might cause you to make much harsher judgments than otherwise.

I see a related kind of issue with my stepfather, who did grow up at the bottom of the ladder. Often, he won't want to take advantage of certain disability or insurance claims because he's got this weird idea that that's what lazy white trash does, game the system, and he's not like that anymore, and then my mother has to browbeat him into actually claiming the money he's entitled to.

I think Guy is often too paranoid... when he sees a group of dangerous kids that might shoot us, I see a group of rowdy teenagers, like we used to be a while back.

However, in this case, I agree 100% with Guy. I don't want Sunny to be exposed to any group of kids that thinks being a dope boy is a worthy real-life ambition. It's not like we're keeping him in an ivory tower. We live on the edge of a huge, constantly changing city, and he's going to come in contact with this stuff. I just want to minimize it as much as possible. I don't want him to look down on people from lower-class families, or be afraid of them, but I do want him to have a healthy sense of caution and know how to stay out of trouble. Atlanta is a very dangerous city, especially for a young black man. It's a difficult balancing act... I guess you'll have to check back in 12 years to see how it all works out!

From "Dope Boys" by T.I.

A crack a ki' a crumb do it fifty mo' times
The quarter go for 5 and the half go for 9
Still in the trapp wit them break down dimes
Hit me on the hipper anytime, I don't mind
Why y'all n****s bitching on and whining I'm a grind
Shack it in the winter and the summer I'm a shine (getting mine)
It's plenty of money to be made from Candler Road to Bankhead
It's plenty of room to get paid for those that ain't scared
I got the hard for the j's and dro' for the dank heads
The dope game still strong like pimping ain't dead