Noah Mendel: Finding Meaning in an Obama Victory
[Mr. Mendel is a recent graduate from Lewis
and Clark College, where he received a degree in History.]
What does it mean to have elected Barack Obama to the presidency of the United States? I began searching for the meaning in this election during the early evening of November 5, 2008, a Wednesday, the day after I helped to elect the 44th president. 2008 marked the second time I participated in a national election, and the first time my guy won. So far my voting average is 0.500.
One thing that I have heard, even before the polls opened on the morning of November 4th, was that this was a “historic election.” And it certainly was: it happened in the past, and with each passing day it makes its way deeper and deeper into our historical memory, along with all those that have come before. Are not all elections historic? Has there ever been an election in this country not deemed worthy to be enshrined in the halls of American history? That’s sort of a hard question to answer. If there were an election not worthy of history, how would we know?
This election, however, was exceptional, or historic, depending upon what network news stations you’re watching: this year’s winner is African-American, the first ever to be elected to the position. His name is Barack Obama. He is the 44th president. Have you heard yet?
To many, Barack Obama’s victory is indicative of change in America. The fact that Barack Obama, a self-identified African-American man, was able to win in a country whose history is entrenched with vitriolic racism towards its African-American population, suggests to many that America is writing a new chapter in it’s national story—we have arrived at the beginning of the end for American racism.
While I agree that Barack Obama’s election was important and set a precedent in American politics, and in the process broke other precedents set in previous elections, the fact of the matter is, American racism is as alive today as it was on November 3rd or November 4th. The poverty rate amongst African-Americans in this country is nearly three times the rate amongst Caucasians. According to a 2007 report filed by the Justice Department, the percentage of imprisoned African-American males was nearly seven times greater than the percentage of imprisoned Caucasian males. Caucasians, particularly men, still disproportionately occupy the upper echelons of business and government, with the exception of the presidency. Instances of environmental racism, police brutality, failing housing infrastructure, and faltering educational resources all run rampant in African-American communities, and have not dissipated since the national election. Electing an African-American president does not mean that all African-Americans, or Mexican-Americans, or Native-Americans, or Asian-Americans for that matter, are no longer subjected to racism.
The national discourse on race in the 2008 election also indicates that racism has not subsided. Since Barack Obama announced his candidacy for the presidency, American media speculated over the extent to which “race would affect the election.” Sounds sort of odd, doesn’t it? How could something as arbitrary as the complexion of Barack Obama’s skin, and presumably John McCain’s, affect the election? What did “affect” mean?
After much thought, I realized what all the journalists and pundits meant: they were curious about the extent to which people would consider Barack Obama’s skin color, and perhaps John McCain’s, when deciding how they would vote. The idea was that people might react negatively to Barack Obama because he is identified as “black.” What they were referring to, then, was not race, but racism. “Merely a semantic difference,” you may be thinking, and you would be right, minus the “merely” part. Semantic does not mean petty, despite all its contemporary connotations. According to the Webster’s New World Dictionary, semantic means: “of or pertaining to meaning, especially meaning in language.” The meaning of language—sounds pretty important. Indeed, what we choose to call something does in great measure determine the way in which we understand it.
Our inability to identify and speak candidly about racism casts a shadow over the meaning and historic nature of this election. Barbara Fields, a historian from Columbia University, writes that the use of the word race to describe racism is “the great evasion of American historical literature, as of American history itself.” By substituting the word race for racism we effectively obfuscate an action for a perceived human attribute. Asking, “How will race affect the election?” in effect places culpability on the part of the victim and not the aggressor. It is almost to say, “If only Barack Obama weren’t black he would have an easier time getting elected.” Both of these statements fail to clearly identify the actor in question. Barack Obama’s skin color could not prevent him from getting votes. The racism of certain voters, however, most certainly could. It seems as though we are trying to convince ourselves that racism no longer exists by not appropriately indentifying it, opting instead to sweep our skeletons into the closet and close the door tightly behind us.
Our obsession with Barack Obama’s skin color also challenges the idea that America has dismantled racism. “Race” is a concept shrouded in misunderstanding and misappropriation. As it functions today, the term race is often used to describe one’s ancestry and not their skin color. Barack Obama is a perfect example: the son of a “black” Kenyan man and “white” women from Kansas, Obama is, by the same standard that judged his parents as “black” and “white” respectively, “black” or “half-black.” My quotations around the word race, black, and white are intended to raise doubt over what I mean by these words, and what you mean by them, too.
If you wanted to describe Obama’s actual skin color, however, terms like brown, or coffee-colored, would do far more justice than black or half-black: he does not look like those deli cookies half covered with white frosting, half covered with black frosting. But that’s the thing: when we call Barack Obama black we are actually referring to the African ancestry of his father, and not his skin color. That is why the term African-American is a far more appropriate: because it describes ancestry, not skin color. Similarly, Barack Obama could just as easily be labeled white, given his fair complexion and the ancestry he inherited maternally. But why is Barack Obama black, and not white?
Personal identity is complicated, to say the least, and has as much to do with the way in which society sees the individual as the way in which individuals see themselves. Society’s perception is arguably far more powerful than that of the individual’s. While Barack Obama has stressed that he identifies as African-American over black for specific reasons, he is still black because greater society labels him as such. The fact of the matter is, America’s definition of who is black, and who is white, is completely historically dated. At the end of the 19th century, for example, Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe of admittedly pasty complexion were considered black and un-American, as were immigrants from Ireland, Italy, Russia, and other parts of Europe. It was only once European immigrants acculturated and rose in social standing that they were considered white Americans, perfectly illustrating the normative assumption in American history that whiteness and American-ness are synonymous. Similarly, the “one drop of blood rule” long stipulated throughout American history than any individual with African ancestry, or “blood,” no matter how far removed, was black, regardless of the color of their skin. Definitions of black and white vary across space much in the same way they vary across time. Each country, with their own unique history, has their own set of standards for racial categorization. Such a drastic variance in the definitions of black and white makes you raise your eyebrows, doesn’t it?
These examples are intended to illustrate the most important fact about race: that it is entirely a human invention. Despite the myriad of efforts to enshroud race in scientific justification, including Thomas Jefferson, there is nothing natural or biological about race; it is entirely social. I encourage you to look it up, because it’s true. There is no race gene. In fact, there exists more genetic diversity within “racial groups” than between them. We have been taught, however, to believe in the ideology of race, and the experiences of our lives in America have made that ideology seem relevant. Of course race exists, don’t I have to check a box on my standardized test that indicates my race? The fact of the matter is the ideology of race, the belief that humanity is biologically divided into groups based on skin color, is a fabrication—the greatest lie of modern history.
Have you ever thought about how arbitrary it is to fixate on the color of a person’s skin? Of all the human characteristics to pay such attention to, to divide the population by, and to judge them for, including whether or not you would vote for them to be president, why the color of someone’s skin? Take handedness, for example. Would it not strike you as ridiculous to believe that all right-handers are biologically distinct from left-handers, perhaps even inherently superior? Or what about not voting for a left-handed person, enslaving left-handed people because their left-handed, or murdering them, or denying the rights to which they are entitled? So if this example strikes you as absurd, then why regard race as genetic sacrosanct?
We should be excited about electing Barack Obama not because he’s African-American, but because he presents America with an attractive set of politics: “change we can believe in.” I’m excited about our next president because for the first time in my political career I’m proud of my candidate, and I’m proud of my country because of him. I’m excited about my next president because he presents the possibility to break away from the post-9/11 political consciousness that has so dominated America in the last several years. Maybe he will solve the financial crisis, end the Iraq War, mitigate climate change, and make the world safer. Maybe not, we’ll have to see. The point is, all of my hopes and fears regarding his upcoming term have nothing to do with his skin color. I would feel the same had I never seen his picture. The question you need to ask yourself is: why did I vote for this man? Why do I think he is qualified to ensure my life and liberty?
The truth is, race only exists because we believe in it. Much like everything else in our social order, race can be deconstructed just as it was invented, but it requires a certain set of politics to do so. Herein lies the historic possibility of the most recent national election: the reflection and questioning it can, and should, prompt about our assumptions concerning race and racism. If we are unable to speak candidly about, and appropriately identify, racism, then what reason do we have to think it no longer exists? Electing an African-American man president does not wash our hands clean of the racism that stains this country’s history. Not recognizing something does not mean that something has vanished. Perhaps the best way to begin destroying racism, then, is first to begin breaking down the racial ideology of our forefathers—the belief that there exist neatly defined categories of people demarcated by the color of their skin.
If we regard people as people, all of who are entitled to the same rights, and not qualify them by arbitrary modifiers like “black” and “white,” then we can begin to eradicate racism. With racism gone, we can build better neighborhoods and schools, reform the justice system, and make economic opportunities readily available to everyone. Who better to rally around in such an endeavor than a president who does not fit within the confines of dated terms like “black” and “white?” I can see the makings of history already…
and Clark College, where he received a degree in History.]
What does it mean to have elected Barack Obama to the presidency of the United States? I began searching for the meaning in this election during the early evening of November 5, 2008, a Wednesday, the day after I helped to elect the 44th president. 2008 marked the second time I participated in a national election, and the first time my guy won. So far my voting average is 0.500.
One thing that I have heard, even before the polls opened on the morning of November 4th, was that this was a “historic election.” And it certainly was: it happened in the past, and with each passing day it makes its way deeper and deeper into our historical memory, along with all those that have come before. Are not all elections historic? Has there ever been an election in this country not deemed worthy to be enshrined in the halls of American history? That’s sort of a hard question to answer. If there were an election not worthy of history, how would we know?
This election, however, was exceptional, or historic, depending upon what network news stations you’re watching: this year’s winner is African-American, the first ever to be elected to the position. His name is Barack Obama. He is the 44th president. Have you heard yet?
To many, Barack Obama’s victory is indicative of change in America. The fact that Barack Obama, a self-identified African-American man, was able to win in a country whose history is entrenched with vitriolic racism towards its African-American population, suggests to many that America is writing a new chapter in it’s national story—we have arrived at the beginning of the end for American racism.
While I agree that Barack Obama’s election was important and set a precedent in American politics, and in the process broke other precedents set in previous elections, the fact of the matter is, American racism is as alive today as it was on November 3rd or November 4th. The poverty rate amongst African-Americans in this country is nearly three times the rate amongst Caucasians. According to a 2007 report filed by the Justice Department, the percentage of imprisoned African-American males was nearly seven times greater than the percentage of imprisoned Caucasian males. Caucasians, particularly men, still disproportionately occupy the upper echelons of business and government, with the exception of the presidency. Instances of environmental racism, police brutality, failing housing infrastructure, and faltering educational resources all run rampant in African-American communities, and have not dissipated since the national election. Electing an African-American president does not mean that all African-Americans, or Mexican-Americans, or Native-Americans, or Asian-Americans for that matter, are no longer subjected to racism.
The national discourse on race in the 2008 election also indicates that racism has not subsided. Since Barack Obama announced his candidacy for the presidency, American media speculated over the extent to which “race would affect the election.” Sounds sort of odd, doesn’t it? How could something as arbitrary as the complexion of Barack Obama’s skin, and presumably John McCain’s, affect the election? What did “affect” mean?
After much thought, I realized what all the journalists and pundits meant: they were curious about the extent to which people would consider Barack Obama’s skin color, and perhaps John McCain’s, when deciding how they would vote. The idea was that people might react negatively to Barack Obama because he is identified as “black.” What they were referring to, then, was not race, but racism. “Merely a semantic difference,” you may be thinking, and you would be right, minus the “merely” part. Semantic does not mean petty, despite all its contemporary connotations. According to the Webster’s New World Dictionary, semantic means: “of or pertaining to meaning, especially meaning in language.” The meaning of language—sounds pretty important. Indeed, what we choose to call something does in great measure determine the way in which we understand it.
Our inability to identify and speak candidly about racism casts a shadow over the meaning and historic nature of this election. Barbara Fields, a historian from Columbia University, writes that the use of the word race to describe racism is “the great evasion of American historical literature, as of American history itself.” By substituting the word race for racism we effectively obfuscate an action for a perceived human attribute. Asking, “How will race affect the election?” in effect places culpability on the part of the victim and not the aggressor. It is almost to say, “If only Barack Obama weren’t black he would have an easier time getting elected.” Both of these statements fail to clearly identify the actor in question. Barack Obama’s skin color could not prevent him from getting votes. The racism of certain voters, however, most certainly could. It seems as though we are trying to convince ourselves that racism no longer exists by not appropriately indentifying it, opting instead to sweep our skeletons into the closet and close the door tightly behind us.
Our obsession with Barack Obama’s skin color also challenges the idea that America has dismantled racism. “Race” is a concept shrouded in misunderstanding and misappropriation. As it functions today, the term race is often used to describe one’s ancestry and not their skin color. Barack Obama is a perfect example: the son of a “black” Kenyan man and “white” women from Kansas, Obama is, by the same standard that judged his parents as “black” and “white” respectively, “black” or “half-black.” My quotations around the word race, black, and white are intended to raise doubt over what I mean by these words, and what you mean by them, too.
If you wanted to describe Obama’s actual skin color, however, terms like brown, or coffee-colored, would do far more justice than black or half-black: he does not look like those deli cookies half covered with white frosting, half covered with black frosting. But that’s the thing: when we call Barack Obama black we are actually referring to the African ancestry of his father, and not his skin color. That is why the term African-American is a far more appropriate: because it describes ancestry, not skin color. Similarly, Barack Obama could just as easily be labeled white, given his fair complexion and the ancestry he inherited maternally. But why is Barack Obama black, and not white?
Personal identity is complicated, to say the least, and has as much to do with the way in which society sees the individual as the way in which individuals see themselves. Society’s perception is arguably far more powerful than that of the individual’s. While Barack Obama has stressed that he identifies as African-American over black for specific reasons, he is still black because greater society labels him as such. The fact of the matter is, America’s definition of who is black, and who is white, is completely historically dated. At the end of the 19th century, for example, Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe of admittedly pasty complexion were considered black and un-American, as were immigrants from Ireland, Italy, Russia, and other parts of Europe. It was only once European immigrants acculturated and rose in social standing that they were considered white Americans, perfectly illustrating the normative assumption in American history that whiteness and American-ness are synonymous. Similarly, the “one drop of blood rule” long stipulated throughout American history than any individual with African ancestry, or “blood,” no matter how far removed, was black, regardless of the color of their skin. Definitions of black and white vary across space much in the same way they vary across time. Each country, with their own unique history, has their own set of standards for racial categorization. Such a drastic variance in the definitions of black and white makes you raise your eyebrows, doesn’t it?
These examples are intended to illustrate the most important fact about race: that it is entirely a human invention. Despite the myriad of efforts to enshroud race in scientific justification, including Thomas Jefferson, there is nothing natural or biological about race; it is entirely social. I encourage you to look it up, because it’s true. There is no race gene. In fact, there exists more genetic diversity within “racial groups” than between them. We have been taught, however, to believe in the ideology of race, and the experiences of our lives in America have made that ideology seem relevant. Of course race exists, don’t I have to check a box on my standardized test that indicates my race? The fact of the matter is the ideology of race, the belief that humanity is biologically divided into groups based on skin color, is a fabrication—the greatest lie of modern history.
Have you ever thought about how arbitrary it is to fixate on the color of a person’s skin? Of all the human characteristics to pay such attention to, to divide the population by, and to judge them for, including whether or not you would vote for them to be president, why the color of someone’s skin? Take handedness, for example. Would it not strike you as ridiculous to believe that all right-handers are biologically distinct from left-handers, perhaps even inherently superior? Or what about not voting for a left-handed person, enslaving left-handed people because their left-handed, or murdering them, or denying the rights to which they are entitled? So if this example strikes you as absurd, then why regard race as genetic sacrosanct?
We should be excited about electing Barack Obama not because he’s African-American, but because he presents America with an attractive set of politics: “change we can believe in.” I’m excited about our next president because for the first time in my political career I’m proud of my candidate, and I’m proud of my country because of him. I’m excited about my next president because he presents the possibility to break away from the post-9/11 political consciousness that has so dominated America in the last several years. Maybe he will solve the financial crisis, end the Iraq War, mitigate climate change, and make the world safer. Maybe not, we’ll have to see. The point is, all of my hopes and fears regarding his upcoming term have nothing to do with his skin color. I would feel the same had I never seen his picture. The question you need to ask yourself is: why did I vote for this man? Why do I think he is qualified to ensure my life and liberty?
The truth is, race only exists because we believe in it. Much like everything else in our social order, race can be deconstructed just as it was invented, but it requires a certain set of politics to do so. Herein lies the historic possibility of the most recent national election: the reflection and questioning it can, and should, prompt about our assumptions concerning race and racism. If we are unable to speak candidly about, and appropriately identify, racism, then what reason do we have to think it no longer exists? Electing an African-American man president does not wash our hands clean of the racism that stains this country’s history. Not recognizing something does not mean that something has vanished. Perhaps the best way to begin destroying racism, then, is first to begin breaking down the racial ideology of our forefathers—the belief that there exist neatly defined categories of people demarcated by the color of their skin.
If we regard people as people, all of who are entitled to the same rights, and not qualify them by arbitrary modifiers like “black” and “white,” then we can begin to eradicate racism. With racism gone, we can build better neighborhoods and schools, reform the justice system, and make economic opportunities readily available to everyone. Who better to rally around in such an endeavor than a president who does not fit within the confines of dated terms like “black” and “white?” I can see the makings of history already…