Why Samhita Baracked the vote...

Why I Baracked the vote.

This picture is from a series of very moving pictures that can be found here. This one was my favorite and has the captions: These two boys waited as a long line of adults greeted Senator Obama before a rally on Martin Luther King Day in Columbia, S.C. They never took their eyes off of him. Their grandmother told me, "Our young men have waited a long time to have someone to look up to, to make them believe Dr. King's words can be true for them." Jan. 21, 2008.

I have never been an overly patriotic person, maybe because I grew up in a South Asian household that dreamed of returning to India, but the role of the US military world-wide has always dampened any belief in the strength or character of the leaders of this "great" country. Despite growing up hearing, "well if you don't like it here, you can always go back to where you came from" more times than I would like to recall, I have always had a love hate relationship with this country that my parents decided to move to in the early 1970's. I claim a US citizenship, but have never felt like a real citizen as most of my life, no one has believed that I am. So yeah, it makes being patriotic for a country that doesn't really see you as part of it, difficult.

But despite my cynicism, I have always worked for the benefit of America, partly because that is the only kind of work available for liberal arts major, but also because I believe in the importance of civic duty. I was a school teacher in some of the most underfunded schools in America that are failing from neglect and racism, I have worked in non-profits and now I am a political writer. Despite my cynicism, like many Americans, I was still committed to making this country a better place. But as a result of the Bush Administrations regressive policies, irrelevant of my commitment to the public sector, I am in debt, I have no money to invest or buy a house or even think about raising a family and, oh yeah, I don't have health insurance. My country has betrayed me.

I voted for Barack Obama because all of these issues are ones that he has talked about and I believe he will change or affect in some capacity that will reinstall the good that comes out of civic minded work. I don't want to regret that I went to college, I don't want to be hateful that I worked for a public school district and I don't want to go into debt if goddess forbid something happens to me or a loved one and we don't have health insurance.

The American dream is bullshit and a ploy to ignore the actual conditions and struggles of people's lives in this country. My parents came to this country for a better life and we have lived a life of struggle and that struggle continues as my parents retire with no savings and limited social security. But even my cynical father said to me last week inspired, I am willing to give Barack Obama a chance because he on some level sees me and understands the struggle of immigrants. The election of Barack Obama will not be the end of our struggle for equitable rights for the people of color and immigrants in this country, but I do believe he is a step in the right direction.

I voted for Obama because I agree with his stance on reproductive justice and will fight to protect my right to choose, I think he will work to get people like me health insurance, I believe that he will fight for me to keep more money in my pocket and most importantly because he wants to begin to talk about stopping the illegal and expensive war in Iraq. I am also voting for Barack Obama because as a person of color in this country, I have never believed or felt that I belonged and I have watched young people of color through my work as a teacher never believe they have a shot. Is Obama's presidency going to all of a sudden solve racism in inner city and rural America? Probably not, but it will be much more effective working to hold someone accountable that at least on some level can understand where you are coming from. I, like many others, am not voting for Barack Obama simply because he is black, but it does mean something different and special to me, to my community, to my friends and to my students. I am still not feeling amazingly patriotic, we have a long way to go, and even writing this post is making me feel a little nauseous (where did radical anti-establishment Samhita go???), but I do think we have the chance to move this country in a better direction. At least I hope so.

from Aries Hines

chants and ancestral prayers in Kenya
praise in Palestine . . . .

It was just 12 years ago that slain artist Tupac Shakur validated what the entire world had known to be true “We ain’t ready to see a Black president” this statement repetitiously solidified with an overview of America’s history of assassination and a look at Cointel Pro’s purposeful dismantling of Black leaders, freedom fighters, and activist all over the world. I was petrified to vote for Obama. I thought my ballot would write the road to his untimely death. I was absolutely certain that the white males who hung Black bodies from any tall tree, edge, or angle would show up in the thousands voting bigotry on November 4th.

I knew the election would create feminist criticisms about how Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin were trumped by the old boys group which now included a Black male. I was personally saddened and torn by the caricature The New Yorker released just months earlier and other illusively denigrating caricatures that showed up all around the internet of Obama himself hanging from a noose or of violence against Michelle Obama.

When the numbers from California came in and the amazing democratic count of the electoral college solidified that our 44th president was Barack Obama, I was floored.
I was and still am in a daze of sorts. I still hear old negro work spirituals, the statement of being “Black and Proud”, what it meant for NWA to call themselves Niggas with an Attitude, and the NAACP’s so called funeral for the word. I thought about the day after the election and how I wanted to hug everybody, smile at everyone. But not everybody had a reason to smile . . .the genocide in Darfur still continues among so many others around our world, the war we never wanted wages on in Iraq and affects people in Palestine, Indonesia, Afghanistan, Kenya, United States, Haiti, and more. People who lost their homes this year, couldn’t find a reason to smile back at me or the millions who lost the very foundation underneath them, their jobs.

We still have this world to work with; and all our own injustices, secrets, and people imprisoned and disenfranchised that never deserved to see a prison. Not to mention the millions of youth that are pilling up on our streets for the standardized test and systems in place to disconnect them from society. This election showed the country that in historic record-breaking numbers all people; young and old, all races, and gender identities, cared about voting, and about this world, and its endless possibilities. So long as we all understand that the work is still ahead and there’s so much to do its impossible to expect it to be done without strategic communication, planning, and relationships. I’ve still not woken up from my daze.

From the outside-in

From Rashida...

As I become a piece in this jigsaw puzzle called America, I see myself celebrating in unified strength at the election of the next president of the United States of America. What an exhilarating time, an historic moment – AND I was part of it!

Today, Nov 5th, is a new day – a day that millions hope and feel it will be brighter, full of hope, of dreams, of new colors… Barak Obama. Throughout the day, I was following news coverage on the television from around the world, my pride elating at having this first hand experience of seeing fruition on the selection of the ‘crème de la crème’ … ‘Yes, we can!’ is the chant all around us! I watched news coverage from the UK, Asia and parts of Africa; it was moving to realize that my joy was shared with so many folks from all around the world. Coverage from my homeland Kenya even showed the Kenyans building a new road in his honor, ‘Obama’!

Yesterday, Nov 4th, was a long day that saw a countdown to joy and sadness alike. The sadness of having passed Prop 8 felt like a personal failure: proving there is still much work yet to be done and battles to overcome. The country laughed and cried as the results on their monitors showed the map in blue and red – the winner by leaps and bounds was Obama!

The joy of sharing the victory of electing the nations next president with folks from all walks of life, fellow co-workers and friends was undeniably an incredible feeling. An image I shall hold for a long time. Seeing people wear a smile and be nice to each other is almost unheard of during these trying times, especially where I come from. I pray that this feeling cultivates positivity and evokes advancement in the right direction to unite the invisible divide.

A Brand New Day. Movement-Building After November 4th.

Wow. I feel like I’m in the Wiz. Everything is new, and the same.

On November 4, 2008 my stomach clenched as I waited to discover whether the GOP would retain its decade long stronghold over U.S. politics. As I watched election results alongside friends and comrades, two birds twittered imaginarily on either of my shoulders. On one side sat fear. I couldn’t imagine a world in which a black person, or any non-white person for that matter, would ever be elected President in a majority white nation. And lacking the vision for such a world, that side of me rested on what I did know. That the black political leaders i had seen or heard of were corrupt, or murdered, or thwarted. And so on November 4th, I was afraid. Afraid that a black man in the white house would mean white power in blackface, with only token acknowledgement of the deaths, destroyed lives, and hard won victories it took to get him there, and no acknowledgement of the structural oppression that remains in place for the vast majority of black and brown people.

On the other shoulder was hope. As I stood on the corner of West Grand and Broadway in a laughing, spinning crowd that organically swelled to hundreds before the night was over, a big part of me wished that the act of electing a black man as president would signify once and for all that democracy was in action and no longer an American myth or dream. As Barack Obama was announced as the 44th President of the United States I shouted YES WE DID, and OBAMA into the night with the best of ‘em. And when we broke out the drums and danced in a drum circle, cars honking and people waving, I was proud, still am. I never thought I would live to see the day. I wanted to not only sing and dance and celebrate with my comrades and neighbors, but actually believe that the change for which we have all fought so hard and so long for was afoot. Like my mother and her comrades did in the late 1960’s. It would have been so easy. The rhetoric was there. All I had to do was step over the line from left to center and I would believe myself a part of this nation in a way I never dreamed possible.

Instead, I realized I needed to be both a jubilant participant and a wary witness. In my mind’s eye I saw my mother’s grim determination, the face of a Black Panther who’d visited too many of her comrades in jails, morgues, and rehab centers, and the lessons of history unfolded. Made me think of that biblical quote, “for god so loved the world that he gave his only begotten…” I saw my sister’s smile, the smile of a young black activist hustlin’ to pay the rent, and my eyes were returned to the poor and working class masses of black people, millions of whom were ineligible to vote. I heard my sweetheart’s voice in the languages of an immigrant activist, artist, and educator and my ears were opened to the millions denied basic citizenship rights while extorted for their labor and their light. My niece’s laughter, the sound of what is yet to be, opened my heart to a future I never dared to dream of.

These women reminded me that while we are in the midst of an incredible historic moment worthy of the palpitations in my heart, just over five years ago black people in New Orleans whose voices and homes were drowned out by the hundreds of thousands couldn’t garner the level of organizing support or resources leveled to elect President Barack Obama. Nor could the thousands of immigrant detainees whose names are hidden by the ever growing Department of Homeland Security. Nor could the Panthers who stood alone at trial, who live out their lives in prison, because they, alongside black martyred leaders MLK, Malcom, and others, demanded with direct action their measure of justice.

I get it. It’s easier to step out on faith when a real possible solution stands before you. Still, it is on the shoulders of these ancestors that President Obama stands, not Abraham Lincoln’s nor John F. Kennedy’s. It is in memory of the forgotten that I cast my vote on November 4th 2008, and now.

I vote for a powerful solutions-based strategy that makes it clear that structural racism, and the economic inequity that feeds it, is alive and as deadly as ever.

I vote for informed, multi-racial alliance building and strategic meta-framing that is compelling enough to replace the ideological, issue, and identify fragmentation of the last three decades.

I vote for a social justice movement that is willing to fight for a fair, accessible, and relevant telecommunications system with ownership rules and infrastructure that breaks the back of corporate ownership and control of our public voice.

I vote for a new approach to community organizing that includes spirit, culture, base-building, communications, electoral work, direct action, and policy campaigns. A multi-dimensional approach to change is, and has always been, the only methodology to bring about the kind of social change we all long for. Question: How do we build a sustainable movement on foundation crumbs that last a few months at a time without the coordination and support of a political party? Answer that question and we’re halfway home.

On November 4th, I celebrated and I mourned. Proposition 8 lost in California, denying queer couples the fundamental right to marry and limiting constitutional rights. As the black butch daughter of a Black Panther mom, I don’t care much about marriage, but I do care about basic rights. The civil rights of black people in America have always been tethered to the rights of other folks including gay people, immigrants of color, poor whites, and the global and intersecting communities in which we live. For each of us, our status as full citizens can only be achieved through a movement that preserves and inspires human rights for all people, and moves beyond rights to achieve real political and economic power for groups. Until then, we all may find ourselves treated as illegal, tracked and hunted, deported into various forms of poverty or prison. There is no scale for injustice, there are only the lessons of history. And history teaches me that my fight is not over until every human being has the right to a sovereign nation and body, and the resources to achieve their fullest human potential. Call me a socialist, but that's what I believe.

And so, as we move forward into this new day, let's walk together.

My friend and comrade reminded me that Obama isn't the messiah. My auntie assured me with tears in her voice that iconic leadership alone doesn't work, that white power in blackface isn't the same as a real exchange of power into new hands. But there WAS an unprecedented shift and political opening on November 4th, 2008, evidenced by the beautiful brown family that stood together as Barrack Hussein Obama accepted the seat of the 44th President of the United States. And once alone, I cried.

The next 100 days and four years are up to us. We have a chance to put forward plans- the kind that inspire action beyond dreams. We have a chance to show President Obama that if he steps out on a limb to make real change, he will have the support of most of the nation, and that we expect the favor returned. We have a moment, cause that's all four years is, to demonstrate to the Democratic Party and to the world that changing the face of the Presidency isn't enough. I’m talking about power shifting hands.

I end with this, the words of my younger sister, “…the people cheering and honking...that happened here in bed-stuy too, right on the corner of greene and bedford for hours. that doesn't even happen for new years. i wish that my mother, who sacrificed so much for change at a grassroots level as a panther, could see the people now. while i don't have any strong belief in obama as a man or as president, i believe that the power of the people, which is the real power we have, was the exact power that brought us the right to vote in the first place because voting is what our people believed would bring us greater power. it doesn't and it didn't, but what fighting for that cause and feeling a victory does bring, is a pride and epitome of strength to a moment ripe and ready to be harnessed. let's do this. let's harness this. let's wield it as our own. let's free em all.”

The nation voted, not for a man, but for the hope that the most corrupt and imperial political system in the history of the world could change. It’s up to us. Let’s do this.

peace.
malkia

“I could feel it in the air tonight”

As I sat with a group of friends and colleagues all watching the status on the votes as they came in, at some point I felt my body disconnect. I remember telling a friend sitting next to me that I’m disconnected and armored. I made a joke that when one grows up in severe trauma (whether that be personal or systemic) it’s normal for a body to prepare for a blow of sizemmatic proportion. The contender standing on the left, a Black Democrat, Barack Obama and the second contender standing on the right, a White Republican, John McCain. I placed my vote or bet on Obama, because I wanted to visually see something different than what I have seen in a Presidential “Race”. Also since the two party system of Democrat and Republican is dominant I manipulate myself into voting for a Democrat, with the belief that at least they care a little about me whereas the Republicans are like stereotypical Italian Mafia movies- self interest is the only thing they care about.

As I continue to watch the television and the prediction was Barack Obama for president I still held my emotions with great reservation. As it was final and the elected- President announced as Obama I sat in silence, waiting for the BIG HAH WE GOT YOU, JUST PLAYING. In the background were chants and roars. I called my grandma in Baltimore, Maryland who had to run from Royston, Georgia because of the racism she experienced as a black woman to congratulate her in being able to witness this historic moment, her reply was “it’s been long overdue.”

After talking to granny I felt some excitement creeping into my gut and I ran outside to smoke a cigarette, because that’s what I do when I want to suppress any feeling in my body that’s uncomfortable! A group of folks were on the corner yelling and chanting as the multiple car horns were going off. I walked over to join the noise, waving my Obama shirt and going “dumb” in the street. I chanted, I yelled, I laughed and moved my body in so many ways that night, which I haven’t experienced in so long. I dapped and touched so many kids, elders, blacks, whites and strangers hands that night. Something was definitely in the air when the Oakland Police Department helped us in closing off the street that we semi took over and just watch us quietly. Awww….something was definitely in the air!

Oshenfloor

Another Pundit's Quick Election Reflection

a few haiku's and a paragraph or two...

on the death of newspapers...

EBAY sells papers?
They said newspapers were dead
can't frame a blog post

on the smell of taxing the rich in the morning...

Time to pay up
and pull out your wallets
tax the rich beeeotch!

on Prop 8...

a strange type of change
race wedge used to perfection
in "post race" race

A new day?

I awoke to a new day on November 5, 2008. Yes, capitalism is still in shambles. Yes, the economic crisis stemming from a neo-liberal model of expansion of capital at all costs is turning into an ethical and moral crisis of global proportion. And, yes, George Bush still has two months to wreak havoc and continue to plunder the people's money and transfer it to the wealthiest amongst us.

But here's why I'm hopeful.

It's not because I think Obama will save us. It's not simply because we have our first African American President. And it's not only because the rich may begin to pay their fair share of taxes.

I'm hopeful because people, at least for the moment, believe that another America is possible. I'm optimistic because young people, people of color and the rest of us who thought participating in the decisions that affect our lives was futile are beginning to understand that the simple act of voting can be radical. And I'm confident that social movements can grow to understand that democracy doesn't end on election day and we can move from an accountability framework to a framework that sets the agenda for those in power.

And finally, for real for real, I'm optimistically hopeful and confident because the tatted down homie with a permanent tear drop under his eyes told me he was voting for Obama because he was "tired of white supremacists in the white house." And later on that night, he cried real tears of joy when his vote counted for something...at least in his eyes.

the suspension of disbelief. what dreams may come.

the suspension of disbelief. what dreams may come.

(i’ve edited this post a little bit to reflect some more thoughts on the passage of prop. 8 in california)

i poured myself a glass of rum and coke, on the rocks. the networks hadn’t called it, but i did. when PA and OH went, i thought, it’s over. i looked across the room, filled with black folks that i loved, everyone waiting. waiting to suspend the disbelief that hung over the room that evening.

we were a jaded crew. organizers, communications staff, writers. born and raised of military families, black panthers, royalty, and southern decadence. some of us celebrated as states were called, trying to hide our fear of recalls, voter intimidation, apathy. some of us did nothing– we didn’t want to get excited. hours passed and we drank, ate, talked. we waited.

but then, the networks finally called the presidency for obama. we rocketed from our seats, cheering and hugging, some were crying. you could feel the energy in the room, expended from years of working so hard. we were tired and re-energized, weary but triumphant.

we looked at each other in amazement. we said “we can win something.

as soon as obama gave his triumphant victory speech, we all went outside, needing some air and wanting some space to scream. we were surprised to find a few others, craving the same. cars honking. people screaming. we took the corner of broadway and grand, and as we all texted our friends, the crowd grew into the hundreds.

oakland was alive, if for a night. oakland was a city again as we drummed, hugged, drank, danced, howled in the streets. cars passing by packed with people cheering in victory.

i stood there thinking, this feels like another country. when was the last time people in the US took to the streets (nationwide, it turns out) for a president. and it hit me. it wasn’t for him or for the office he will soon hold. people were tired and beaten down. we finally got a taste of economic disaster in this country, a taste of nationwide decline, and, yes, a taste of fascism. so, we took to the streets until the early morning in jubilation and shedding off the past 8 years, hopeful for what may come.

the next day, the world hadn’t changed all that much. prop 8 in california lost. white gay men were up in arms, blaming black folks for the stinging loss. unfortunately, they voted overwhelmingly for the proposition, which takes away the right of gay folks to marry in california. i struggle with the level of racist vitriol that comes from those folks. they are in many ways like my father, a liberal white gay man. i want to be mad, but all i can do is laugh it off. this time, though, i have to speak up.

while many groups voted for the passage of proposition 8, black folks are being singled out for not caring about civil rights during such an historic moment. the irony is thick, but im used to it. it was, as the president-elect would say, more of the same. and here’s why.

the gay advocacy groups have not built up a ground game in black communities. no field offices, big rallies, nothing. plenty in san fran and in west hollywood. but when i drove in east oakland, they were absent.

they chose instead to run ads toward the end of the campaign, when they knew they were losing, highlighting key moments in the civil rights movement. they hired Samuel L. “Snakes On A Plane” Jackson to narrate these pithy ads. those ads did nothing but beat the civil rights movement into black folks’ heads, as if they didn’t know what it stood for. as if their parents hadn’t fought it. in short, they were incredibly patronizing.

you can’t just TELL someone something is a civil rights issue, you have to show them how it is a civil rights issue. don’t believe me? what if i told you the oppression of atheists and agnostics was a civil rights issue, akin to the 60’s civil rights movement? life or death. freedom or oppresion. here’s a flashcard with MLK’s face on it. there, i told you, now get on board.

that’s a stretch, but you get my point. you simply can’t build real solidarity without building real relationships across communities. any real ads with good messaging targeted toward black folks were done by independent operators, in many cases black gay people who didn’t have the resources to run them widely. so while my white gay brothers and sisters were quick to blame the black community as a critical outpost, they didn’t think it prudent from the beginning to fund their black gay comrades to organize their own. interesting. telling.

on the other hand, yes on 8 campaigners had an excellent presence in black communities. and they lied left and right, telling pastors they’d be forced to perform gay marriages. and they passed out fliers with obama’s image, with a quote: “i don’t support gay marriage”. they were in south central, east oakland, compton– and they were there EARLY. they were at church, in line at the market, and on the roads. in short, it was brilliant. they convinced voters who voted for change to vote for more of the same simultaneously.

but this storm has been coming, long before any of the white gay establishment bothered to pay attention. the right’s takeover of black churches and institutions was viewed as an interesting article on the huffington post maybe, but nothing we should be concerned about. yeah, til we lost our right to get hitched.

let me be crystal clear. if the movement for full gay inclusion is going to be successful, gay advocates cannot afford to sit on the sidelines on issues that matter to black folks. you can’t ignore the black community, and then call them a failure when you realize we’re critical to full inclusion. i’m not talking about patting backs here. when black gay men and womenn are consistently murdered, where is the white gay community? when black gay folks are targeted by police officers, where is the white gay community? when funding for hiv/aids services dries up in black communities (not talking about AMFAR research here, folks), where are the white gays?

shit, our own big, fabulous, gay house is burning and you’re surprised that our FAMILIES aren’t on board? i haven’t even gotten into the plethora of issues that affect the larger black community. we’re talking foreclosures, unemployment, the drug war (not just your neighbor’s meth habit), sexual assault, human trafficking. yeah, its deep. but if you want to win, you gotta get into it.

i always say, when the ceo of nike can’t sell a horrible sneaker, he doesn’t get on a shareholder call and complain about dumb consumers. he makes a better product. we, my fabulous brothers and sisters, need to build a better movement.

the failure here was not of black voters to wake up and respect your gaylandia. it was in the organizing strategy (or lack thereof) on behalf of the no on 8 campaign to build bridges and help EVERYONE see us as people who matter. and thats not going to happen over the course of a few months, folks. people vote against their own interest all the time, so to expect them to vote in the interests of others without taking the time to really build alliances is sorely misguided.

so as wednesday dawned, black folks were still in the same box. pathologically desired by many, but greatly maligned by those same folks. and that’s the lesson for me. our wins were magnificent tuesday, but we still have a great distance to go. we have to build a better movement for justice, if we are to achieve real victory, in tangible means that touch peoples lives.

and let me be clear about something else. i want to get married just as much as the next gay. but, hunny, the arc of history is long. like dr. king, im more interested in bending it toward justice. how about you?