Black Like Me?The author of Ace of Spades on Barack Obama's identity crisis
A HOUSE DIVIDED Is the Illinois senator too black, or not black enough, to be president? This is shaping up to be quite the democratic primary—a spic, a broad, and most importantly, a real live colored rounding out the ticket. It only took us 400 years to get here, from the field to the house to, perhaps, the White House. Racially, though, we've been down this electoral road before (with Reverends Sharpton and Jackson), but never with this much gas in the tank. Could we really be ready to elect a black president? A nuanced, scholarly interpretation of the political landscape and American history leaves me, a marginal black man, with just one reasonable conclusion: Nope. Make no mistake: This campaign will be a subliminal return to the era of mammies, sambos, and bug-eyed coons; lock up your daughters and hide the good silverFirst, let's deal with the question of Obama's racial identity. With regard to melanin, he's not "biracial"—he's black. I know all about the ofay mom from Kansas and how that supposedly makes him "mixed," but I'm not buying it. I'm mixed and look about 10 shades lighter than the senator (I'm somewhere between Harold Ford and Gerald Ford in complexion), but I got called nigger growing up, and many is the cab that's passed me by. Mixed still means black in much of America, and nearly all of the South. Ordinarily I'd be more flexible with the definition, but Senator Obama's father (who split when Barack was just a boy—now that's a brother!) is Kenyan. You mix a Kenyan with Richie Cunningham and you're still getting a kid closer to Wesley Snipes than Lisa Bonet. I mean, you gotta go through six, seven generations before you wash Kenyan-black out of your system; it's tougher than a red-wine stain on a shag rug. Now, in terms of African-American culture, compared to Barack Obama, Sam Brownback is an off-the-corner, jeans-sagging, Chick-O-Stik-eating homeboy.
COMMUNICATIONS 101 Obama takes lessons in hand-jive Forget about Obama being shuttled between Indonesia and Hawaii (not exactly hotbeds of black and white racial dynamics) by his mother; the best clue to his cultural roots can be found in his nickname, Barry. A real brother would have shortened Barack to Rock. Rock Obama. Cool. Barry is the name of the guy who sold your grandparents aluminum siding in 1977. And it looks like the Congressional Black Caucus is taking note. Few have offered endorsements, and Reverend Al Sharpton is thus far unimpressed, labeling the senator's campaign as short on substance, high on media "razzle-dazzle." Conclusion: Obama's too black for the white vote and too white for the black vote. Still, he will likely get a good slice of the black vote just for the "one of us" and "it's about damn time" factors. But it's not black America we need to worry about in terms of the inevitable flimflam the senator's candidacy will go through. It is white America who has, so far, loudly voiced their enthusiastic willingness to overlook color in a presidential race. Remember what the RNC cats did to the aforementioned Harold Ford? You can't believe what people tell pollsters. Make no mistake: This campaign will be a subliminal return to the era of mammies, sambos, and bug-eyed coons. Lock up your daughters and hide the good silver. Before you know it, the competition will escalate policy-driven attacks into an assault on black masculinity, and every affair the guy's ever had will find its way onto the national ticker. What's that? How do I know he's had extramarital affairs? He's a black man in public life! That's how we do—Martin, Jesse, Cosby, and honorary soul brother number one, Billy C. And if Senator Obama hasn't had one yet, a few months on a tour bus will give the brother a lot more audacity to go along with all that hope. The man will be set up, bet on that. And if she's white? Oh, snap—that's gonna be some good television.
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