From Where I Stand: Step 27

Once again my report begins with a subject raised around the bagel table after eight volleyball games. Healthcare was going to be my focus, but it will have to wait for later. Maybe it was the fact that he brought the bagels this week, and discovered that’s why we really get up early on a Sunday and risk bodily injury. Before the games began, Manuel, our good friend from Spain, noted he actually received a call for the first time on Saturday reminding him that it was his turn to bring the bagels. So, once again he posed an excellent question to spark dialogue. He wanted to know why white males were at the bottom rung of the ladder. Several of us asked for clarification. Manuel said when his company wanted to hire new employees members of minority groups were selected first. Sam said this requirement usually only applied to companies doing business with the federal government. In response Manuel wanted to know why colleges and universities gave preferential treatment to minorities. Again, it was related back to receiving federal funds. We discussed how California had passed a proposition initiated by Ward Connerly, a conservative African American activist who opposed the idea of using affirmative action to lower standards, which eliminated preferential treatment for scholarships. Mike added his knowledge of Michigan schools was they eliminated affirmative action but still reserved the right to find ways to build diversity in their schools. To which I added that I thought it was incumbent upon these institutions of higher learning to maintain high standards while building diversity by expanding their search both in where they look for students and how early they start to target potential students. Sam said such a program already exists at USC, for non-Californians-non-NCAA-sports-freaks that’s the University of Southern California. Manuel told us when he applied for admission to a junior college he was told he was not white, as he had indicated, but Hispanic. He claimed he thought Hispanic was an ethnicity not a race. In fact, he said he looked it up in the dictionary and found it meant individuals who speak Spanish. It didn’t help matters he said when the admissions official asked where in Mexico could one find Spain. Making the assumption such an official was at least a high school graduate, and as a former teacher who is astutely aware of Jay Leno’s talks with people on the street, I apologized for that official’s deficient education. I also noted an individual has a right to decline to state race or can choose other. Being the over-exuberant person I am I also indicated the whole concept of race is bullshit. For example, I pointed out I told people I was of European descent “as far as I know.” Certainly, with all the African tribes invading Europe and European tribes invading Africa, and other parts of the world, my, and for that matter everyone else’s, genetic makeup is in question. A great American once said he looked forward to the day when people would be judged not by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. Now, in other developments it appears Oscar season has come to a close with Bigelow edging out Cameron. Big Ben finds himself in off-season trouble while spring training is in full swing. Kara DioGuardi did not ask Simon’s permission to put her Hollywood Hills home up for sale. And yes, budget reconciliation appears to be the new buzzword as healthcare and education take precedent over high profile out of country excursions. Stay tuned as this one comes down to the wire. Finally, did I mention that as we were walking out to our cars after bagels, Manuel confided to me that his father’s portion of his hyphenated surname is actually Portuguese?

What's Diversity Got to Do With It? : Step 24

When kids talked about kids being different at Grantosa Drive they were usually talking about somebody being Jewish. We were the ones that didn’t have to participate in the Christmas program. If I recall correctly some of the parents complained because their child wanted to sing in the holiday program. So, Hanukkah songs were added. We sang theirs and they sang ours. Simple, unless you were Jehovah Witness. I think there were two. Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, and atheists didn’t make themselves known until long after my younger brother had left. Other than that the differences were relatively straightforward, you were either Catholic or Lutheran. The Catholics generally split between Polish and Italian with a few German and Irish thrown in for good measure. Lutherans had two synods. To this day I’m not sure what that meant, but they were the Wisconsin synod and the Missouri synod. One believed if you were Jewish you would be forgiven and the other believed you would go straight to hell for not having Jesus in your life. It was pretty scary stuff as a little kid, but lost its potency as we moved on to junior high and closer to our bar mitzvah. Walking through the halls of John Muir one difference every kid from Grantosa and similarly configured elementary schools noticed was the addition of students with darker skin. My only prior contact with negroes, as people with darker skin were referred to during that period of history, was when I visited Aunt Jane at her store, or when we rode the bus or our bikes the two and a half miles to McGovern Park to go swimming in the summer. A curious thing occurred when we rode our bikes to McGovern. We were told by our parents to lock them up so they wouldn’t get stolen. As far as I recall we rarely, if ever, locked our bikes in our own neighborhood. Needless to say my life was devoid of negro friends. This lack of diversity, a term that would not become fashionable until long after the word negro disappeared from the vernacular, was lost on me. Certainly, none of us saw it as a form of deprivation or detriment to our adjustment in the world. But, it was. Before physical education class began those who got into their gym clothes quickly were able to shoot baskets or talk with their friends. When the teacher blew the whistle all seventy-two kids scattered to their assigned number along the black lines at the edge of the court. Well, seventy-one kids did. Matthew was always chasing the pennies kids threw across the wood floors, or he was doing handsprings or snapping somebody’s jockstrap. Not maliciously. Just for fun. He was the class clown. Well over six feet tall in the eighth grade, his long lean frame moved with amazing grace. By the second whistle he would make his way to his number. More important for me than his ability to skirt authority was his lack of intimidation by troublemakers. During one of the first few weeks of the semester, Dewey and a few of his friends cornered me in the locker room after class. Fortunately, Matthew saw what was happening and came over and snapped my jockstrap. While Dewey was laughing Matthew lifted his comb out of his pants pocket. Dewey took off after Matthew, and I was able to dress and escape. As far as this incident goes it really makes no difference that Matthew’s skin was the color of coal and Dewey’s complexion looked like fresh laid cement. For me, however, it was an early lesson in how many of my fears and suspicions were misplaced.