of poems from LJ to a Word file.

40 poems from Sept. 8 to Dec. 29.

probably 10 good to go keepers outta that, another 20 that need more or less work, and 10 headed for oblivion. perfect bell curve.

of the keepers…8-9 good, 1-2 better than good.

i am nothing if not consistently ruthless in my analysis of my work. I think that’s a pretty good percentage.

there is a station in boston, WERS, run by Emerson College, that has a great jazz program on from 10-2 everyday…very eclectic, very open to many subgenres, and very willing to play old stuff alongside brand-new stuff. i dig it.

however, it is run by student DJs so the depth of knowledge about what they are playing is sometimes a tad shaky.

so when the DJ just now announced that the last song was by “DeAngelo Rinehat”, i was only mildly surprised.

headache. went home early from slam. who won?

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talking intelligently about race in america is damn near impossible.

the easiest way i can explain my feelings about the topic is to say that until we get past the institutional bias that “white” equals “normal” and that the ideal way of developing a tolerant and accepting society is to be “color-blind,” we will NEVER get it right.

my mother is white, my father is not. because of how i look, i don’t get treated as a person of color. however, i do not feel “honored” to be therefore included in the “white” category by default, which is why i actively and vociferously deny my “whiteness” as often and as loudly as i can.

i’ve seen enough baffled reactions from people who hear me say this that it becomes clear that the subtext is, “well, that’s not REALLY the same as being biracial…”

oh, but it is. head to a reservation, go talk to someone who went to one of the residential schools, go chat with Leonard Peltier — trust me, that experience is one of oppression for difference. i may not have seen much of it myself, but i lived with a father who did. i grew up in a family where race issues were the perpetual subtext of family gatherings, etc. despite outward appearances, my childhood experience was not a “white” experience, not was it a “Native” experience. it blended both into something else.

i get treated as though i am “white” although i am not, until i refuse the title, then i am either treated as “the other” or my claim of “otherness” is rejected by those who say “Oh, cool, my grandmother was Cherokee” (they seldom know that this is so often a code word in a family for an African ancestor) or who take it one step further by saying, “Oh, that’s ok” — thanks for letting me into the club…

sigh.

i’m on a tear about this tonight for a number of reasons…none of which on their own matter that much…

my end statements: “race” is a major social construct based in a minor biological variation. on its own, the variation is meaningless. in its role as social construct, it is the thread that holds America together. change the meaning of race in this country, you change the country profoundly.

“color-blind” policies too often reinforce the status quo. in addition, “color-blindness” is essentially dishonest; it negates a critical aspect of who a person is — not as much in terms of intrinsic worth, talent, or skill, but in not recognizing how ethnicity may have affected that person’s approaches to life in general.

race as a social construct has barely shifted in this country, overall, since Reconstruction. (Yes, Reconstruction.) no one will attack the problem of institutionalized racial prejudice in this country because it can’t be done without completely altering the power structure.

there is another observation to be made here, but i will wait until the firestorm has subsided over this outburst.