Stop the ‘Cute Mixed Kids’ Madness

 stop fetishizing mixed children

For my 6 decades of life, I have been subjected to the “Biracial Beauty” propaganda pretty much nonstop. And I am here to publicly testify that it has continued without pause from the 1950s until today. Unless we do something to stop it, its going to continue to disable and damage any true progress in the movement for equality.

It’s such a popular, knee-jerk trope that if I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard “Mixed kids are so cute/pretty/beautiful,” I would be in the economic 1%. Even as a tot, I suspected that there was something wrong about that message.

Even in pre-school, this foolishness made me weary.

Even in pre-school, this foolishness made me weary.

See, I grew up in a community with many Mixed kids. Some of us (like my brother) were very-good looking. Most of us were average. A couple of us weren’t all that physically attractive. JUST like other group of people, right?

Except we were all subjected to the “Mixed kids are cuter” propaganda that threatened to skew our sense of reality and feed the widespread delusion that our non-Black Ancestry bestowed a superior level of attractiveness that basically became our brand, whether we wanted it or not.

As I grew older, countless people—White and Black alike—shared with me that they “want to have Mixed babies because they’re so pretty.” I think they were surprised and disappointed when I didn’t encourage the pursuit of that goal

Wait What

I would roll my eyes, shake my head and sometimes hope that those particular people would not procreate interracially because they did not seem to possess the appropriate mindset and attitude to rear a Mixed kid with a strong, healthy sense of identity.

franchesca pic

Check out cultural commentator Franchesca “Chescaleigh” Ramsey, a Black woman married to a White man, who has a decent level of clarity on the topic. She challenges the popular notion of Biracial Beauty in its proper context. Click on her name above to watch the video.

Let Us Be Clear: I love being Mixed. I love being Black. I love being #BLEWISH. I love being me. None of which has a damn thing to do with anyone reflexively deeming me attractive because of those things. I’m a’ight looking. As in AVERAGE and completely good with it.

And you wonder why I had attitude at such an early age?

And you wonder why I had attitude at such an early age?

I don’t need to feel better than ANYONE to be happy with myself and my complex complexion and identity. I don’t need to be or think that I represent some form of superior physical species to have a healthy and realistic sense of self.
And
I
Hate
Being
Fetishized.
It is never flattering.
It is never comfortable.
It is never positive.
And it is never welcomed or appreciated. Ever.

i am perfect

What NOT to do. How about we let the child be as gloriously imperfect as every other living being? Nobody needs this kind of pressure!

Because this fetishizing is simply another way of denying our humanity.
The way the humanity of ALL people of color is routinely denied.
It is a way of fishing for something “positive” to say about us to cover up the fact that our very existence makes folks so very uncomfortable.
Because they can’t see us without thinking about what it took to create us.
And that’s just too hard to contemplate, so they try to cover it up with the whole “Mixed = beautiful” propaganda.

Stop Disabling Mixed Kids
Here’s the thing: When anyone–especially the parents/grandparents, family members and other influential adults heap that notion onto Biracial children, they are actually creating a psychological disability in that child–even if their intentions are innocent and well-meaning. AND even if the child is legitimately gorgeous.

Because if the main or only message a Biracial child receives from adults about their identity is linked to their over-hyped physical desirability, the child is at risk of buying into this madness and having it dominate their budding sense of self.

And then–because this propaganda is also spread widely in Black spaces as “Mixed people think they’re so cute,” and variations on that mutually-destructive theme–the child unknowingly steps into an existing hostility that they neither created nor fully understand. But they will feel the full brunt of the obsession.

babies

Hello, Colorism!

I suspect this also makes many Mixed-race people feel confused and like they have to struggle with defining and interpreting their own identities, because the foundation they are given to work with is so very shaky and problematic.

Guess what? When we’re set up as somebody’s oppressive standard of “beauty,” lightness is prioritized over darkness, thin or “keen” features over rounder ones, and hair with the least amount of visible kink is famously referred to as “good.”

And that’s nothing but good old-fashioned racism.

And this is the result.

And this is the result.

Some of us fall for this popular propaganda because, frankly, this world doesn’t often give us much to work with. If nobody in your environment is saying anything else positive about you, then you’re at risk of internalizing the few crumbs they do throw your way, and mistaking those crumbs for substance and sustenance.

Few of us understand the game and how insidious it is, and the need that some folks have to pit us against that part of ourselves that moves us away from “the light.”

everyone loves mixed babiesMaybe the “Biracial Beauty” proponents are hoping that we’ll be so enamored of our alleged physical superiority that we’ll forget about all of the mind-bending nuances, complexities and traumas of racism. Or that we’ll somehow believe it doesn’t impact us, at least not as deeply.

But deep down, most of us know better.
We know that we are NOT cuter/prettier/handsomer or more beautiful.
We have no desire to be defined by our looks.
We are well aware that being Mixed does not make us special.

We get that this whole thing is based on the notion that White(r) is better and Black(er) is worse.

So please stop acting/thinking/believing and saying that we’re:
New.
Unique.
Exotic.
Beautiful. Gorgeous. Cute. Repping some “special” form of beauty.
The answer/antidote to or cure for racism.

end racism have mixed babies“Mixed kids are so pretty” is NOT a compliment. It’s unhealthy and divisive and an impediment to the evolution of the human species. It also sets up People of Color to continue perpetuating a no-win dynamic.

If you THOUGHT you were performing this act of kindness on my/our behalf, I am not just requesting, but IMPLORING you to cease and desist immediately.
Let us be regular.
Let us be average.
Hell, let us be ugly.
Stop making us out to be “more” or “less” ANYTHING.
We’re only human.
Let’s work together to get to the point where we’re seeing and acknowledging each other’s fully-blown, multi-faceted, gloriously flawed humanity.
Stop consigning us to a pedestal that is of no assistance.
We need mirrors that reflect everyone’s truth.
From the soul to the bone to the flesh that covers us all.

On Creoles, Colorism and Confronting our Triggers

Beyonce Formation

By now everyone with media access knows of (and likely has an opinion about) Beyoncé’s new “Formation” video and Super Bowl halftime performance. She dropped the video on an otherwise slow news Saturday, February 6, and on the very next day, she symbolically won the Super Bowl by eclipsing headline halftime performers Coldplay and adjunct Bruno Mars, generating more headlines and conversation than the actual game.

The first wave of responses was a fairly unanimous rave by Black women for the I Love My Black Self, Family and Culture symbolism that season “Formation.” The second, post-Super Bowl, was dissecting Bey & Company’s performance nods to the Black Panther Party for Self Defense, which shares a 50th anniversary year with the Super Bowl and took root in the Bay Area, near the Super Bowl’s stadium in Santa Clara, California on the day when Trayvon Martin would have turned 21 and the weekend when Sandra Bland would have turned 29 had they not been victims of brutally racist murders.

Beyonce Halftime

When Bey and her gorgeously long-limbed, Afro’d backup dancers with their leather hot pants and fishnets rocked Panther-esque berets, included an X formation in their choreography, and thrust their fists into the air to honor Huey and ‘nem, it sparked praise from a rainbow of fans. It also provoked hostile backlash from the White right wingers, who are so peeved they’re actually planning an anti-Beyoncé protest next Tuesday, February 16, at 8 a.m. in front of the NFL headquarters (345 Park Avenue) in New York City. A Black Bey-hive counter protest is planned as well.

Beyond all the pro-vs.-anti Bey brouhaha, what got my attention was when Dr. Yaba Blay, a well-known expert on Black racial identity and colorism, shared her own responses to “Formation,” in Colorlines, and outed a truth with which many of us wrestle: how to balance our awareness of blatant Black-on-Black colorism when it’s embodied in otherwise enjoyable African American and (at least somewhat) affirming popular culture.

While we all know intellectually that colorism is global and in no way specific to African Americans, it doesn’t lessen the pain felt by those on the receiving end. My own admitted obsession with colorism moves me to call it out and confront it more often than is popular. I feel a strong kinship with Dr. Yaba, a respected leader in this realm, and others who believe the only way we can move past this internalized oppression and dimension of racism is to confront, wrestle with and move through it.

Some of Dr. Yaba’s initial posts about “Formation” were quite celebratory and in-crowd, since she grew up in NOLA. While the colorism in the song/video hit me upon first exposure, I held back on mentioning it because, frankly, I sometimes get weary of always feeling like the party pooper. Plus, I figured that if folks who don’t look like me seem good with Beyoncé’s nonstop flipping and flinging of the long blonde weave, the jarring visual of a smirking, stylish Blue Ivy flanked by two darker-skinned girls with stern expressions and unfashionable attire, and references to mama Tina’s Creole background, I should have a seat and STFU. And nobody else in my feed was bringing it up.

So, bolstered by Dr. Yaba and other politically, culturally and spiritually super-conscious and forward-thinking sistas, I back-burnered my reservations and joined in the revelry, exchanging fiber-optic high-fives over Bey’s celebration of Black noses, hair and Southern-fried genealogy. We were having a fine old time, especially in the post-game analysis of Black Panther, Malcolm X and other activist references. And then Dr. Yaba did what true progressives do—she wrote the Colorlines piece examining her own responses to this multi-layered explosion of messages and symbolism that had the world agog:

Blue Ivy

“While Bey let all the folks who’ve been talking crazy about Blue Ivy’s hair have it with, ‘I like my baby hair, with baby hair and afros,’ I can’t help but wonder why the two little girls in the video playing with Blue are significantly darker than her and dressed like old women afraid of the sun while Blue shines, hand on hip, in a sundress.

“I cheer Bey on as she sings, ‘I like my Negro nose with Jackson Five nostrils.’ But I cringe when I hear her chant, ‘You mix that Negro with that Creole make a Texas bamma’ about her Alabama-born dad and her mom from Louisiana. This is the same reason I cringed at the L’Oreal ad that identified Beyonce  as African-American, Native American and French and why I don’t appreciate her largely unknown song ‘Creole.’

Yaba pic

Dr. Yaba Blay

“Having grown up black-Black (read: dark-skinned) in colorstruck New Awlins, hearing someone, particularly a woman, make a distinction between Creole and ‘Negro’ is deeply triggering. This isn’t just for me but for many New Orleanians. For generations, Creoles—people descended from a cultural/racial mixture of African, French, Spanish and/or Native American people—have distinguished themselves racially from ‘regular Negroes.’

“In New Orleans, phenotype—namely ‘pretty color and good hair’—translates to (relative) power. In this context, people who are light skinned, with non-kinky hair and the ability to claim a Creole heritage have had access to educational, occupational, social and political opportunities that darker skinned, kinkier-haired, non-Creole folks have been denied. In many ways, among those of us who are not Creole and whose skin is dark brown, the claiming of a Creole identity is read as rejection. And I’m not just talking about history books or critical race theory. I’m talking about on-the-ground, real-life experiences.”

Dr. Yaba wrote from a place that was both deeply personal and political, raising the question of what drives an artist’s aesthetic choices and how we process those choices through the lens of our triggers as well as the historical, political and social realities that cause those triggers to exist. One issue that her Colorlines piece raised for me is how we interpret and respond to the implicit and explicit colorism throughout Black American pop culture and entertainment. I’ve always considered Bey to be colorist—from early Destiny’s Child days when she was clearly positioned as the dominant golden goddess flanked by her brown-skinned court, to the afore-mentioned mane-tossing—yet no more so than most mainstream entertainers and their products. That doesn’t make her exceptional; it simply makes her part of the rule.

Think of all the times you’ve struggled with wanting to simply enjoy and celebrate something “Blackety-Black,” but couldn’t help cringing at the colorism. Insert your own list of never-ending examples, from movies to television series to music videos, advertisements, etc. 

I remember going crazy in 1974 when Stevie Wonder’s iconic song, “Living for the City” was released on his awesome “Innervisions” album. The song went on to win a Grammy for best R&B song (well-deserved). I loved it and jammed to it but was deeply bothered by the colorism I heard in the lyric, “My sister’s Black, but she is sho’nuff pretty…”

innervisionsIt was the “but” that got me. Here I was, in my early 20s, trying to figure out how to get Stevie to change that “but” to “and.” I fussed and fumed about it to my family and friends, all of whom looked at me like I needed to be institutionalized for losing my natural mind. Nobody said it aloud, but I distinctly felt their weary disapproval at my need to point out colorism at every opportunity. I wasn’t yet ready to have that proverbial seat and STFU, but the seeds for those later behaviors were certainly planted then.

lupita most beautiful

From music to TV to movies, colorism is so normative that its absence generates more headlines than its presence. Let’s face it, Lupita Nyong’o’s rapid ascent to fashion favorite and style icon was not based solely upon her breathtaking performance as Patsey in the movie “12 Years a Slave.” And while she is unquestionably gorgeous, her type of look is in no way unique. Lupita fever swept the nation because her fame and deep-Black beauty, grace and elegance leapt over the aesthetics of White Supremacy, causing the fashion and beauty worlds to bow to her visual glory. It made news because she basically looks the opposite of what mainstream pop culture defines as beautiful and desirable. Her brand of physicality is politically charged, though few will acknowledge that publicly. It is her status as the exception that drives the mainstream adoration. Yet nobody is lulled into thinking that her popularity in any way signals a change in the status quo.

Colorism is as embedded in global notions of value and desirability as it is in the Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome dancing through our DNA. And that shows up in most of our arts and entertainment. The sheer dominance of colorism makes it feel normative, which is why I believe more folks don’t complain about or challenge it. To confront something so ubiquitous can be exhausting. Just like fighting racism, sexism, homophobia, etc., being awake to and aware of colorism 24/7 feels like a Sisyphean struggle. It’s so pervasive and all-encompassing that fighting it can feel like a mere drop in the ocean of injustice.

And yet it’s not going to go away on its own…

About that Creole thing…

The other issue that Beyonce’s recent work—and Dr. Yaba’s response—bring to the forefront for me is the question of whether spotlighting those parts of our identity not considered to be “Regular Black” are indicative of buying into and practicing the principles of White Supremacy, or a simple acknowledgement of the many aspects of our complex backgrounds.

For instance, I recently confronted a (former) FB friend when she fussed about a young rapper calling herself “Miss Mulatto,” and the commenters on her thread automatically attached the term “Tragic” along with their presumptions, assumptions and disapproval. Believe me, I am WELL aware of all of the issues around the word Mulatto (deets in the memoir), and how many Black people find it triggering. Hell, some Biracial people find it triggering. I asked the former FB friend why she and her commenters were so upset about the term “Miss Mulatto,” hoping to spark a mutually beneficial and honest dialogue. Rather than respond to my query, she chastised me for my “tone” and blocked me. And that isn’t the first time I’ve experienced this kind of response from Black women on social media.

swirl girl artThat got me thinking about Black intolerance of Mixed-race people self-identifying and self-affirming, even with the use of triggering terminology. Does a young woman claiming “Mulatto” mean that she thinks she’s better than Black folks who don’t have a non-Black parent? Or does it mean that she is simply claiming her entire heritage in a healthy way, albeit with a loaded term?

THIS is the discussion I want us to have, once we’re tired of dissecting “Formation” and King Bey’s various images and messages. I understand Dr. Yaba’s triggered response to “Creole” (the key migratory pattern of Blacks in Louisiana was to my hometown of Seattle, so I grew up familiar with their blatantly colorist dynamics). Yet I wonder whether Bey’s L’Oreal ad, which lays out various models’ Ancestral mixes, and the reference to Bey’s mother’s Creole identity, was intended to promote colorism and send triggering messages, or whether they’re a simple Ancestral shout-out with no other agenda.

beyonce loreal ad

Beyoncé’s L’Oréal ad

Can we ever publicly acknowledge out our “Black and…” lineage without it being interpreted as anti-Black? For instance, if I say I’m Mulatto and a Black person chooses to interpret that as my saying I’m superior to them when that was in no way what I was thinking, feeling or trying to express, how do we address that? What do we do when Black people use Mulatto or Biracial or any variation thereof as a pejorative reference and we’re triggered?

If Dr. Yaba or her equivalent could sit down with Bey and ask exactly what she intended to convey with the colorist imagery and Creole references, how might the superstar respond? If she denies any conscious awareness or intent of the offense, does that lessen the sting? Does that make it less offensive? More acceptable?

How do we measure intention versus impact?

Tina Creole

Beyonce’s mother, Celestine, known as Tina, IS Creole. Is it the acknowledgement of this fact that’s problematic, or the fact that the history and racial dynamics are so loaded in the collective Black psyche that we need to avoid mentioning it because of the potential for triggering very real responses based on societal attitudes?

And if the offender genuinely does not mean to trigger or offend, is it any different than public acts of racism…where the offenders rush to claim that they did not INTEND to be racist, yet refuse to acknowledge the damage they inflicted regardless of their stated intention? Does the absence of intention give us a pass, or is the offense unacceptable no matter what?

I am racially mixed, high yella, Mulatto, #BLEWISH, etc. and each term with which I can describe myself is problematic to somebody, often many somebodies. In choosing how to describe myself, how responsible am I for being aware of everybody’s triggers? Especially since nobody has EVER in my lived experience made any effort to be aware of or keep themselves from using terms that are triggering for me. When I point that out, people of all races insist that their right to expression trumps my feelings, and often respond in hostile ways. They also insist that their beliefs are inherently more valid than my experiences. Ironically, much like White people do when confronted about racism, or patriarchal men when confronted about sexism…

For me, what is problematic about ALL of this is the presumption of superiority, which is always triggering for the person being deemed inferior. While Creole, Mulatto, et al, might not be used to convey superiority, their history makes it difficult to detach that baggage at the gate.

Equally problematic is the presumption of the presumption of superiority which is what we experience when someone presumes that their definition of my use of Mulatto, for instance, means that I am saying I’m better than them versus asking me whether or not that is the case. They privilege their definition over mine, override my intention with their assumption, and choose to focus on mutual resentment.

If we always fall back on our assumptions and never make the time and take the trouble to sit down together and create an actual dialogue to better understand each other and change how we respond, we’ll be in this cycle of hurt and harm forever. Meanwhile, the racists chortle at having us on self-destruction cruise control while they keep winning.

Now what?

My People, for anyone who truly cares about evolution, it is time to move beyond bludgeoning each other with our intertwined pain and take a serious look at how to start healing.

Thanks to racism and its countless manifestations, we are ALL deeply wounded human minefields of triggers. If you tell me about yours and I respect you and care about your opinion, I will probably make an effort to avoid those things that are triggers for you. There are other times when I deliberately aim to trigger as many folks as possible—hence #BLEWISH—to further my own agenda, with absolutely no apologies, justifications, or tolerance of being policed. After all, much of America is triggered and even traumatized by the fact of my very existence and in-your-face refusal to bow to anyone’s labeling or definitions.

As a living human trigger to not just Black people, but people of many other races, I don’t have the luxury of not thinking about these things all the time. And THIS is the conversation we need to have—honestly and authentically—with full knowledge that it won’t be easy or comfortable to wade through these thorny yet essential issues. Everybody is guaranteed to be triggered in the process. Everyone’s wounds will be exposed.

We can’t change what we won’t confront—in ourselves or in each other. When we set each other off, one person’s triggers often activate another’s, until we’re locked in a cycle of responding from our wounds and pain. We’ve been doing that for centuries, with no end in sight.

But I’m tired of this loop. I want more. We all deserve better.

varnette anti colorist sistas

Where do we go from here? Can we agree to work together to figure out how to neutralize or deactivate our mutual triggers and break this endless cycle of trauma drama that we neither created nor truly benefit from?  Can we find a way to be more aware of each other’s tripwires and sensitive to the need to reprogram the internalized racism with which we are all infected? Can we express our triggered pain without activating more? Or do we accept that we’re going to activate each other and endeavor to move past that to a more productive space?

I don’t pretend to have the answers, but I am committed to examining the questions in a search for solutions. I respect Dr. Yaba for publicly wrestling with, as she said, her own contradictions. I am ready to wrestle with mine. And yours. And–most importantly–OURS.

But this is not an individual exercise. Acknowledgement without action never moved anyone forward. Healing and progress can only come from collective action. This is much more than a song-and-dance or pop culture phenom. This is our lives, our souls, our sanity and our survival. And so I lovingly invite–and challenge–you to get in whatever sort of Formation works for you to begin the process now.

Let’s NOT Talk About Race … Here’s Why

What would it be like to go a whole day without thinking, emoting or talking about race?

I can’t even imagine…

Sure, I might manage it if I were in some kind of retreat setting with zero access to external information and technology—probably some environment where everyone is restricted to a code of absolute silence. Maybe then.

But in the real world, especially for those of us who are finely-attuned to social/cultural/political issues and plugged into news and social media, that seems an impossible task.

Since the 2008 election of President Obama), it seems that race-related situations, stories, thoughts, feelings and opinions are more prevalent than ever.

Especially the last month or so: between the Paula Deen incident, Supreme Court rollbacks, and the trial of George Zimmerman for murdering Trayvon Martin, race-related everything seems to be in overdrive. This layered on top of the everyday tragedies of police-on-Black violence, Black-on-Black violence, the cradle-to-prison pipeline, substandard public schools, increasing attacks on women’s reproductive rights and bodies….and the list goes on.

Race remains central to our processing of these and other incidents, often in the online public sphere, where everyone is a pundit eager to share their views.

These conversations can become overwhelming, since they’re never neutral or objective. We all have strong views and feelings, and social media provides every opportunity for sharing, responding, debating, and processing in community.

Meanwhile, there are always well-meaning people who say that we need to keep talking about race.

I disagree.

I see no point in talking about race, not if the goal is real progress in the seemingly endless but still essential struggle for justice and equality. I’m not even sure that a constructive conversation about race is possible in these United States, or whether it ever has been.

So how do we address and grapple with issues of justice, equality and the ways in which identity and categories are used to maintain an imbalanced power structure?

I say we go to the root cause of the issues, the problems, the contradictions, the complexities and the conundrums.

Forget race. Let’s talk about racISM. And by ISM I mean Institutionalized, Systemic and Malignant oppression based on categories designed to ensure an unjust and unequal system.

A wise man, Ronald Steele, with whom I worked years ago, gently schooled me on what seems like a fine distinction: “It’s not race. It’s racISM that is the problem, the issue and the core of what’s wrong.”

That simple observation opened my awareness.

You’ll notice that there is nothing in the title or tagline of this blog that mentions “race.”

Yes, the focus includes things related to color, culture, identity and community. Which naturally include race. But since my goal is to create some positive change and contribute to whatever progress we can manage to engineer, I want us to focus on the REAL issue.

RacISM.

More recently, Ronald Steele took his guidance a step further and reminded me that the root cause of racISM is White Supremacy.

Again, he’s absolutely right.

The entire USA was founded and built on the notion of White Supremacy. It is at the core of every law, ruling, policy, institution and tradition in this land. RacISM is the system required to maintain White Supremacy. And race—which is now popularly dismissed as a “social construct” and therefore not something that really exists—is the concept required to feed the racISM machine.

Those same notions are part of every aspect of popular culture, entertainment, and the nation’s educational systems. All are strongly biased in favor of one group, and against those deemed not good enough to be part of that one group.

Those who encourage endless discussions of race seem to believe that the root of our problems is a blend of ignorance and prejudice, and that if we talk enough, if we share enough of our stories, our pains, our truths, our realities, the dominant group will have a giant Aha! moment, wake up and rush to right the wrongs of over 500 years.

How likely is that to really happen?

It’s human nature to be tribal. To be biased. To be prejudiced. And to discriminate. That isn’t going to change, and it’s not where the bulk of the real damage occurs. The real damage is in the institutionalization of that bias, prejudice and discrimination to limit the options, opportunities and quality of life for a specific group of people. If it’s gender, that’s sexISM (and I include discrimination based on sexuality in that category). If it’s age, that’s ageISM. And so on.

Talking about race never seems to contribute to real progress. Why?

1.       We’re not objective and tend to take everything personally, resulting in hurt feelings and endless, non-productive back-and-forth about who is good vs. who is bad; who is right vs. who is wrong; and who is the most victimized.

2.       There is no commonly agreed-upon language that allows for a useful conversation about “race.” The very labels and categories that define our society are both weapons and shields that contribute to a culture of conflict.

3.       People of all races compare wounds and victimization, going around and around in circles that leave everyone frustrated, drained and no more enlightened than they were before the conversation started.

4.       The categories of Black and White were created as opposing groups, and it is the tension in that inherent opposition that is the foundation of this entire nation, from governance to culture to everyday life. Others, such as Asians, Latinos, Native American Indians, etc., often complain that race is more than Black and White. They’re not acknowledging that unless and until the ongoing warfare that is inherently part of everything in the USA is confronted and changed, White vs. Black will always be the dominant dynamic, theme and topic of conversation.

5.       Few people—and none in the public arena—ever enter into discussions of race with the goal of honestly confronting the core issues and working towards solutions that actually advance justice and equality. The goal seems to be “winning” a debate rather than conversing with a common goal.

Truth is, most conversations on race seem to end up like Sly and the Faily Stone’s classic song, “Don’t Call Me N***er, Whitey. Don’t Call Me Whitey, N***er. So let’s forget talking about the surface symptoms and focus on root causes. Let’s stop trying to prove who’s right, who’s wrong, who’s the victim and who’s the villain, and acknowledge that we are all infected and affected by the disease that is racISM. Then, let’s gather those who are genuinely interested in finding solutions, and discuss how we can work together to find a “cure” for this insidious epidemic that controls our nation and rules our lives.

Now that is something I can imagine.

Can you?