Hard Choices and a New Age

Text - Barack Obama’s Inaugural Address - NYTimes.comWhat the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them — that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works — whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public’s dollars will be held to account - to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day — because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control —and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our Gross Domestic Product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart — not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.

The world has changed. Of course, it changed some time ago. Our communications systems changed, and the internet transformed society in ways we could not have imagined, and did not imagine, it would have. It made prophets out of people whose theories were both controversial and visionary — Marshall McLuhan comes to mind.This is why I don't accept arguments about "society" or "economy" or "the world" that don't recognize that the ground has shifted under our feet, that draw upon theories that were influential in the twentieth century, some of whose roots were in the nineteenth century, that ignores the contributions made by all sorts of thinkers of all ideological stripes.That the 44th President of the USA is African-American is important, revolutionary, seminal, historic. Yes. But that he is also the first president born after 1960 — the date accepted as the end of imperialism — after the change that began to change the world, after empires died and the formerly oppressed — we must not forget — were able once more to forge their own destinies for better or for worse, is equally significant. That he is the first president whose administration really appears to understand the change that has come in the world is something that is liable to change the world perhaps as profoundly as the skin he wears will do. It's possible to argue, and I'm going to, that the election of Barack Obama as an African-American marks the end of a change that began with Gandhi, continued through the struggle for self-determination and national independence throughout the European empires between 1919 and 1960, and came home to the English-language Americas with Martin Luther King. But what Obama's election also signifies is the beginning of another change — a change in society that has to do with changes in technology. The old ideas that were forced upon us by governments whose philosophies were the residue of 19th century industrialism are passing away, and a new world is beginning.But back to the speech:

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus - and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West - know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

Amen.

Why Obama matters to all of us, everywhere

Four Fingers and a ThumbOn a hot day in a school in Laventille, I am reasoning with a student. This beautiful young woman of 17 years or so. I say to her, what do you want to be? She laughs and says a stripper.Her classmates laugh too, because to them it is a joke, as funny as their lives being lived out in predictable boxes.On a hot day in a school in Laventille painted in colours disturbingly similar to the wall around the Royal Gaol, this beautiful young woman sums up the totality of her potential in saying that she wants to be a stripper.I am not amused. I am also not surprised that she doesn’t hesitate to respond in the negative. I fight the urge to run from the room screaming and crying because she is living proof that you can build buildings but if you don’t build the people, your social fabric will crumble and then what is the point of phallic concrete edifices in you city?I suggest to her that she creates her own reality. I suggest to her that words have power and if you call yourself a whore enough, the ease of the words on your tongue will numb you to the dread reality of your actions.I ask her again what she wants to be. She says that what she wants for herself is not what other people want for her.She says she wants to be a hairdresser and a singer. And I wonder who has told her that she can’t be anything she puts her mind to.

This is from a blog by Trinidadian writer Attilah Springer, who wrote it on Saturday while engaging in the "escapist fantasy" that Barack Hussein Obama might win the US election. I posted it because it is so fundamentally true in so many places that are growing young people of colour.The "No You Can't" mentality is pervasive throughout the world, not just in the USA, and it's in part because our leaders swallowed wholesale and without critical examination the concept that there are first and second and third class citizens in this world, and people of colour never break into the first group, and it's also in part because the popular media really only promote images of non-white people engaging in sex, drugs, violence and angry, nihilistic music. It's also in part because our leaders see no value in supporting an economy or a culture that enables us to create alternative images for our own young people.Until now.The fact that Obama has been elected President of the United States of America means something. It means something to all of us, and it's far more than just the fact that he's African-American (and when we apply that to him, it means something real, it's not just another synonym for black/negro/nigger/ex-slave). It means that the people who elected him, who are overwhelmingly under 30, of all backgrounds, ethnicities, genders, beliefs and class are the people who are creating new realities for us. And maybe it also means that something of that hope, of that new reality, will trickle down to the rest of us in the African diasporic world.  It isn't going to come easily, and it isn't going to come automatically. But what it does mean is that we can no longer fool ourselves that our destinies are out of our hands. And it means too that throughout the Caribbean we must make our own futures. We have to confront those politicians who have nothing but old ideas, stuff fed to them by imperialists and racists and people who didn't even realize that they were imperialistic and racist but who were force-feeding those worldviews anyway, and tell them it ain't like that anymore.And we have to kill the "No We Can't" attitude stone dead.Dare to dream. America just has had its dream come true. Time for us to dream big too.

Came across this while searching for something else

And it's worth another visit, and another.

BEAUTIFUL, ALSO, ARE THE SOULS OF MY BLACK SISTERSA BLOGSITE FOR THE PRAISING OF ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL AND SUBLIME IN HONOR OF ALL BLACK WOMEN. A BLOGSITE TO SPEAK THE TRUTH OF BLACK WOMEN’S HISTORY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS IN AMERICA.“ONLY THE BLACK WOMAN CAN SAY “WHEN AND WHERE I ENTER, IN THE QUIET, AND UNDISPUTED DIGNITY OF MY WOMANHOOD, WITHOUT VIOLENCE AND WITHOUT SUING OR SPECIAL PATRONAGE, THEN AND THERE THE WHOLE. . . RACE ENTERS WITH ME”.ANNA JULIA COOPER, 1892

Nah, ya see ...

It isn't a frivolous thing to protest against the way in which people expect to view Africa (and the rest of the third world for that matter, where skins are dark and palm trees feather the skyline).  I know Hurricane Ike was a bastard, and ripped up the southern Bahamas and the Turks and Caicos and slammed Cuba and is now going to hammer Texas.  I know this, and so do you.But is there any excuse for the kind of coverage provided below?BBC NEWS | Americas | Paradise flattened in storm's wakeHere are other ways in which the BBC has reported on the storm:Images of Ike (almost all of Cuba, which racks up the heartstring points)And here is how the local media covered it:Images of Ike damage in Inagua, including millions of dollars' damage at Morton SaltMy conclusion:  our lens sees damage.  The lens of the BBC seeks human distress.All the better to underline, once again, and subtly (or not-so-subtly) the wonders of being civilized.I wrong?***(15/09/08) Edit: So maybe a little wrong, and certainly a lot biased.  Here are some other links to consider before weighing in on the discussion:New York Times on Ike (May require a password to view)LA Times on IkeHuffington Post on Ike

Tim Wise: Your Whiteness is Showing

Tim Wise: Your Whiteness is ShowingI'm sure that others have linked to this before me, and I'm coming late to the party, but --it's fun.And rings true.See for yourself.

This is an open letter to those white women who, despite their proclamations of progressivism, and supposedly because of their commitment to feminism, are threatening to withhold support from Barack Obama in November. You know who you are.***First, for those of you threatening to actually vote for John McCain and to oppose Senator Obama, or to stay home in November and thereby increase the likelihood of McCain winning and Obama losing (despite the fact that the latter's policy platform is virtually identical to Clinton's while the former's clearly is not), all the while claiming to be standing up for women...For those threatening to vote for John McCain or to stay home and increase the odds of his winning (despite the fact that he once called his wife the c-word in public and is a staunch opponent of reproductive freedom and gender equity initiatives, such as comparable worth legislation), all the while claiming to be standing up for women...For those threatening to vote for John McCain or to stay home and help ensure Barack Obama's defeat, as a way to protest what you call Obama's sexism (examples of which you seem to have difficulty coming up with), all the while claiming to be standing up for women...Your whiteness is showing.

Go.  Read.  Laugh.  Think.

A Post about America

Now.Let me say that, unlike many of my countrymen, I'm not addicted to the American election. Put very simply, I am not American. The Obama/Hilary competition is more important to my mind for its symbolic value than for anything that it means to me as a Bahamian.For one thing, I don't think for one moment that a Barak Obama presidency is going to mean to us what it will mean to Americans. Not in practical terms. In fact, Obama's worldview is quite likely to do us in The Bahamas less good than we might think -- he's accepted the realities of the 21st century global economy, and we still have no idea what those are. We're not even engaging in the discussion -- we're still talking in ways that are fundamentally obsolete. Our leaders (political, religious, what-have-you) have not demonstrated the consciousness that will enable them to meet Obama on his terms. Strangely enough, if Obama becomes President, our best route to the Americans will be through the much-despised Caribbean.But that's by the way.The race for the Democratic nomination is symbolic because from the beginning it ensured that the next Democratic contender for the American presidency will not be a white man.Tonight is symbolic because the black man won.In America.Let us all take off our hats and stand in awe.But it's also symbolic because the election was a truly democratic one. Forget the spin and the punditry and the experts; nobody has a real clue which way this election is going to go, because nobody has figured out how to translate the discussions that are going on in cyberspace -- and that have driven Obama to his victory -- into votes. The people, for the first time in what seems forever, are driving the candidates and the spinners and not the other way round.What saddens me, though, is that we Bahamians have yet to invest our hearts and minds and interests in our own political campaigns and drive those people who imagine they have the right to lead us. While I admire Obama and know I am watching history unfold, I am still angry that the quality of the discussion,  analysis,  thought, of simple plain sense that we Bahamians are demonstrating in our support of Barak Obama was nowhere in evidence last year this time, when we were voting for the people who would actually make the difference in our lives. And it's still nowhere in evidence as we move forward, negotiating waters of free trade and trading blocs (can we truly remain isolated in a "free-trade" world? I wonder). Every viewpoint I hear expressed is dated.Come on, fellow Bahamians. Let's the minds we've honed this past year watching Obama become the Democratic presidential nominee and turn them on ourselves.Please.

Our Heterogeneous World

... and if you don't know what that long word up there means, go look it up.I was reading Shashwati's Blog this morning.  It's been a long time since I've checked her stuff out, which doesn't mean that I don't value what she says, but rather that I really have not had the kind of time to do the kind of blogging I would like to do.  But this post resonated with me, because I think we suffer from the same malaise.  She talks about an experience she had (as an East Indian woman, in Caribbean parlance) with a Taiwanese masseur who, having heard her voice, questioned her about her colour.  As Shashwati says:

[He (the masseur)] realized my English was better than my Chinese and asked me where I was coming from. I replied, “United States of America.” He turned to a seeing woman next to him and asked her what I looked like. Specifically what the color of my skin was (I could comprehend that much despite my poor language skills), then he turned to me and said, “Are you White?” what reply was he expecting me to give? Yes that I was White, so should be treated better. But he already knew the answer, so was he testing the “truthiness” of a non-White person? I told him no, I was browner than the brownest Taiwanese, and that the US had many people of different races and colors, and America should not be equated with being White, it was a big diverse country. I was suddenly in possession of language skills that normally elude me.

By that I mean that, just like the Taiwanese she writes about, we Bahamians appear to imagine that the world is monocultural.  More specifically, we tend to associate specific nations with specific "races".  We don't question this tendency, and we imagine that it is somehow natural.  But the world is a multicultural world, and, colonial mythology aside, it is not divided into clumps of people who fit specific moulds.We should question it.  Our history has determined how we see -- the world, our nation, ourselves.  We should not accept that way of seeing without interrogation.  We need to carve out our own existence, make our own reality.  We cannot allow past oppression to stretch into, and shape, our futures. 

Can You See Us?

Thanks to Erica James at the National Art Gallery of The Bahamas, I was led to seek out this series on the statelessness of children of Haitian parentage growing up in The Bahamas.  You'll find it on YouTube.  I don't know who made the movies, but every Bahamian should watch them -- especially those Bahamians who view their society through the lenses of "Us" and "Them".

Can You See Us? Part I

Can You See Us? Part II

Can You See Us? Part III

I'll embed the videos later.

Edit: The video was made by the Bahamas Human Rights Network. Kudos.

The Long Silence

I am never sure how to address this question -- the question of my silence. It's not that I am not thinking. It's not that this blog isn't important either. The challenge I have, though, is my position as a senior government official. More and more the things I have/want to say seem to be in conflict with that fact. It isn't that everything that is current is politically charged -- but it seems as though there are many things that invite comment, and that comment is liable to be critical.So the question is, what do I do?I want to post, for instance, the story of an incident that occurred recently (two of them, in fact), because I think that the responsibility of a writer is to raise awareness, to speak out about injustice, and to point at things that are wrong in a society so that we can fix them. Let me just say this. The two stories to which I refer have to do with the abuse of power of our uniformed branches. Now I am a supporter of the police and the defence force. In my position I see the best of them; they work with us in securing major events and help us with logistics on a national level, and they do difficult jobs very well. But what I have heard on both sides are so egregious that they cannot be kept silent about.So the question is -- how do I do that?Well, I'm just going to do it, I guess.Watch this space.

Race/Colour in Barbados « Eemanee

Race/Colour in Barbados « what crazy looks likeEemanee blogs about race and colour, and throws out the following thoughts:

Even when we remind ourselves of just how fluid and contested race is we fail to reveal that race is in itself a fiction.When we refuse to see the difference between historical racial privilege and racial slurs we foreclose on any opportunity to dismantle the fiction of race.And when we recognise race as constructed we refuse to see its construction does not make it any less real.

What does it mean to be this Caribbean writer? - Tobias Buckell

What does it mean to be this Caribbean writer? at Tobias Buckell OnlineGot to this post courtesy of Nalo Hopkinson.edit: Back with comments:Tobias Bucknell writes about being a multiracial SF writer, and what response he gets when he identifies as such. For instance:

I jokingly have been called ‘an undercover brother.’ Vin Diesel calls people like me ’shadow people,’ neither one race nor the either due to circumstances and self-identity, and considers himself one, yet another reason for my close attention to his career.Things came to a head a couple days ago with a few emails challenging me to prove that I was actually multi-racial and not just a ‘poser’ who wanted the ‘advantages’ of being hip and multi-racial.For some people, any attempt to identify in ways that they can’t control are troublesome....... I was born on the island of Grenada, West Indies, and is one of the two Caribbean islands that shape what I think of as home. Grenada, with it’s spice and colorful flowers and deep jungles and people, that is my first home. No matter how split my parents are, my cousins and aunts and uncles are all Grenadian and that is the blood that runs through my veins because of my father. I can’t deny or wish to change that, it’s simply who I am. And I’m proud to have been born there and lived there for the first nine years of my life.

Go read it. Some interesting stuff to think about and to discuss.Thanks, Nalo.

Getting up, getting out, getting over: Art is the way

Over on his blog, Reginald Shepherd has posted a meditation on how he made it in the cultural world as a gay black man from an impoverished background. It's also turns out to be a meditation on why art and culture are -- or, excuse me, this is The Bahamas -- should be a fundamental part of any social agenda. As he puts it,

... if one is black, if one is gay, if one has been raised in poverty (as I was, in tenements and housing projects in the Bronx), if as an individual one has never fit into the various social contexts to which one has been expected or even to which one has hoped to belong, the burden of the distance between one’s own sense of self and the fixed and often distorted images others have of one is especially heavy.

He accepts that most people who hold positions similar to his are in fact from wealthy backgrounds. He recognizes that the world of the cultural elite (he's talking about in the USA, of course, but we'd do well to consider how global that idea might be) is a world of privilege. As he writes:

The art that saved me has so often belonged to the wealthy and privileged that it’s hard to remember that it’s not merely an ornament of power. Part of my project as a writer has necessarily (in order for me to be a writer at all) been to attempt to disentangle art’s liberatory from its oppressive aspects, to remember that those who so often own art don’t define it, that (as Adorno pointed out) art is the enemy of culture and culture is the enemy of art.

By "culture", he means, I'm guessing, the invisible structure of society that's held in place by the status quo, and by "art" he means the individual's approach to that culture, each creator's interpretation of, answer to, and redefinition of that culture. In the USA, that status quo is defined internally, from the top down, and so "culture" and "art" are quite probably at war. Here, though, that status quo is defined from the outside in. Our culture should be the fodder for our art; but without the latter, the former is slipping away. We are the hollow men, and so we use everybody's yardstick to measure ourselves except our own. We put our culture aside, we have very little art. Will we ever get up, get out, or get over?

On ethnicity and literature

An article in the UK Guardian addresses the question of race ethnicity and literature.The author argues: "Writers from Africa - or anywhere else - should not be required to be 'the voice' of wherever they happen to come from."This is a debate that's happening elsewhere in my reading, for some reason; here, on Very Like A Whale, Nic Sebastian asks, "Does belonging to an oppressed community require that one’s creative fealty be sworn to that community? What are the moral and spiritual imperatives here?"And when I gave my reading two weeks ago, someone (actually an old and dear poet-friend) remarked that my poetry was not "street". Well, I wondered, why should it be? First, I'm too old for that. When I was growing up, we had art from the "blocks", not the "street". And second, I'm not interested in it. There are more than enough people writing "urban" or "street" stuff just to fit into a mould that they imagine they're supposed to fit into because they come from a particular ethnic group or from a country that features that ethnic group, without even beginning to imagine the politics behind the creation of that mould.Those politics are for another day. But I thought that the article on ethnicity and literature posed an apt question, so go read it. Here's how it ends.

Authenticity should not be synonymous with the current trend or "voice" publishers are desperately trying to find. Surely all writers should be granted the right of imagination and the freedom of individual expression. But these fundamentals have been taken from international and British diaspora writers. In its place is a requirement to "represent" a particular community in which they have roots.A writer's background is just one of many influences fuelling their imaginations. It's not the defining quality, and we should allow writers' imaginations to roam freely around the world.

Acknowledgement of Inspiration

Blogs are funny things. They inspire writing, but they don't always encourage the acknowledgement of other inspiration. Unlike academic writing, they are easy to dash off, seductive almost, not always conducive to the recognition of sources. Oh, they allow us to link to other blogs and websites. That's easy. But if a source is that outmoded invention, a book -- well.I've been writing and posting a series of essays on race and racism and our crippledness about it today, and calling that series of essays "On Images of Savages". I got the title from a book by the psychologist Gustav Jahoda. For anybody who wants to know more about this subject, I suggest you go look up the book, and buy it.You can preview it here, (for a limited time) and buy it from an online bookstore. Check it out. Buy it, even. You won't be sorry for the investment.


books.jpeg

By Gustav Jahoda
Published 1999Routledge
Archaeology
272 pages
ISBN 0415188555

In Images of Savages, the distinguished psychologist Gustav Jahoda advances the provocative thesis that racism and the perpetual alienation of a racialized "other" are a central legacy of the Western tradition. Finding the roots of these demonizations deep in the myth and traditions of classical antiquity, he examines how the monstrous humanoid creatures of ancient myth and the fabulous "wild men" of the medieval European woods shaped early modern explorers' interpretations of the New World they encountered. Drawing on a global scale the schematic of the Western imagination of its "others", Jahoda locates the persistent identification of the racialized other with cannibalism, sexual abandon and animal drives. Turning to Europe's scientific tradition, Jahoda traces this imagery through the work of 18th century scientists on the relationship between humans and apes, the new racist biology of the 19th century studies of "savagery" as an arrested evolutionary state, and the assignment, especially of blacks, to a status intermediate between humans and animals, or that of children in need of paternal protection by Western masters. Finding in these traditional tropes a central influence upon current psychological theory, Jahoda presents a startling historical continuity of racial figuration that persists right up to the present day.Far from suggesting a program for the eradication of racial stereotypes, this remarkable effort nevertheless isolates the most significant barriers to equality buried deep within the Western tradition, and proposes a potentially redemptive self-awareness that will contribute to the gradual dismantling of racial injustice and alienation.

Race, prejudice, and other things

Over on Weblog Bahamas, Rick Lowe has joined the dialogue in a formal way. He's posted an essay of his that was published in The Bahama Journal some 10 years ago for consideration. I suggest you go read it, and remember there are always many sides to the same story. He provides one white Bahamian's perspective on the issue.He also has some pretty cool links attached to it. One of the coolest is this one, which is about Thomas Clarkson and his struggle to end the transatlantic slave trade.This is what dialogue leads to: perspectives you haven't really ever considered because you haven't ever asked to hear them. It's damn easy to assume stuff about the world, history, other people. What is hard to do -- and to accept -- is listen to other people's realities. But unless and until we force ourselves to face other people's realities, we will never go beyond our own.OK -- UWC-inspired platitudes over. Carry on.

English: the language of prosperity, not the language of living in a ghetto

That title is ironic, by the way. Just so you know.I also want to link to this article by Sylvia over at Anti-Essentialist Conundrum.Here's the bit I particularly like:

we simultaneously promote lockstep conformity to amorphous and contradictory “American” values whose only blatant connection is raw opportunism. We sit and we applaud blatant bigotry for our own personal security rather than any serious concern for the security of this country. Around what are we uniting? Do we care about the significance of that union anymore beyond materialist safeguarding and the polarization of classes?I was going to launch into a long rant about the value of bilingual education and the importance of cultural awareness. I was going to denounce the reprehensible coding of Gingrich equating these important goals for advancing understanding on a growing interdependent international landscape with “trying to understand the ghetto,” and the classist and racist implications of the word “ghetto” in American social society. Hell, I was even going to discuss the ignorant imperialist and colonialist tropes of associating the English language with “prosperity” — a language traditionally spoken by thieves of native cultures; by oppressors on a large, reprehensible scale. This emergence of a learn the language of your conquerors/superiors mentality. How his comments seem to erect a wall of ignorance to the fact that people who do not speak English in America are learning English to accommodate our systems. How those comments run counter to a land of opportunity where every person is given the tools to succeed.I was going to write all of those things, and then I grew disgusted with the fact that I wanted to spell them out in a post. It’s a disheartening feeling, one of those can’t people just see that for themselves? feelings. Those feelings that you can’t write everything down; you can’t properly capture in English how much perception of these narratives tighten an everpresent knot in your stomach. How onerous it is to read this tripe and its association with power, and then to look into the faces of others who work to survive day-to-day amidst this faux-intelligence that leads to an ideological hysteria that could cost them their livelihoods or even their lives. Their children. Their liberty.

Go on. Read the whole thing. You won't be sorry.Or maybe you will.

A view from South Africa

I want to link to a debate on Ten Taxis, a South African blog, for a couple of reasons. One of them is that, in commemoration of the Abolition Act, two Ministers of Government here — Fred Mitchell of Foreign Affairs and Alfred Sears of Education — organized two days of activities that helped to focus our minds on slavery and history and by extension ourselves. (A week ago, Cultural Commission and the Festival of African Arts had done a similar thing; but ministers have higher profiles).Anyway. On Friday gone, we had a day in communion with African and Caribbean intellectuals -- Nalidi Pandor, Minister of Education for South Africa, and George Lamming and Maureen Denton, Caribbean writers. Need I say who Lamming is? (If you have to ask, go do some research of your own). Denton is a playwright and actress, and they collaborate. This was hosted by the Minister of Education. Yesterday, in Fox Hill, we had a day in communion with them again, but in commemoration of abolition. This was hosted by the Minister of Foreign Affairs and the MP for Fox Hill.The difficulty is, though, that these commemorative activities have already been politicized in ways that do far more harm than good. Someone somewhere has decided — absurdly — that slavery and emacipation and the general history of the Bahama Islands are a PLP issue, and not a national one. Thus the discussion of slavery is painted in navy blue and yellow, and is carefully walked around on cat feet by those people whose political allegiance is paramount. As for those of us who don't care to politicize these issues, we are invisible and unheard.I'm linking to this debate, because it's about the position of Afrikaners in the new South Africa, and raises a number of issues that I think are relevant to the debate about slavery and emancipation, and — more important — raises them in such a way as to be fairly rational and open to engagement.We can only dream of such an exchange occurring here. Can't we?Anyway, here are the relevant links. And here's to Ten Taxis for posting the exchange.

The point about this is that South Africa's liberation is a whole lot more recent than ours. And unlike us, South Africa is not apparently shrinking from the difficult discussion that has to be had in order for the victims of oppression — who include both the oppressors, who have sacrificed their humanity, and the oppressed, who have had their humanity stripped from them — to begin to heal. Of course, I could be wrong, and looking at the issue from the perspective of too many thousands of miles truly to understand. But I found the exchange, and the fundamental respect which surrounded it, a far cry from the kinds of rhetoric in which we engage round here, where the fact that black Bahamians also owned slaves appears to provide readers and writers of The Tribune with a defence of slavery rather than raising the more pertinent question — whether any of the slaves owned by Free Blacks (or even by slaves themselves) were ever Europeans. I think not. The oppressed are not excluded from oppressing others. But we have to ask the right questions to draw sensible conclusions. In an election year, the rightness of the question is the last thing on our minds.In the absence of sensible discussion about oppression and liberty and history that deals specifically with us, then, I point you to South Africa to get a sense of what such a discussion could be.

How I know we're still enslaved

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0fNNOqmfM18]So yes, this is an American study. And yes, we know that, despite legislative changes and affirmative action and this and that, racism continues in the USA; only people who are not black (or of other colours) can believe that it has been eradicated.But I'll bet you anything that if you did the same study here, and added yet another variable, making it a talking doll, with the option of a Bahamian or an American accent, you'd find that the results would be similar.Disagree with me? Let's do it.