Wednesday, May 5, 2010

A Response to Skip Gates’ Call for Slavery Absolution


special to NewBlackMan

A Response to Skip Gates’ Call for Slavery Absolution
by Barbara Ransby

In a recent New York Times editorial, entitled, “Ending the Slavery Blame-Game,” (April 23) Harvard Professor Henry Louis Gates calls on the United States’ first Black president to end the nation’s sense of responsibility for the legacy of slavery. It is a pernicious argument, well suited to the so-called “postracial” moment we are in. Like the erroneous claims of “post-racialism,” in general, Gates’ editorial compromises rather than advances the prospects for racial justice; and clouds rather than clarifies the history, and persistent realities, of racism in America.

Gates essentially absolves Americans of the guilt, shame and most importantly, financial responsibility for the horrific legacy of slavery in the Americas. How does he do this? -- Through a contrived narrative that indicts African elites. And they did collaborate in the trade. But this is no news flash. Every history graduate student covering the Atlantic World knows that people of African descent (like the elites from every other corner of the globe) waged war against one another, captured enemies in battle, and enslaved their weaker and more vulnerable neighbors. This is nothing unique to Africa. What is problematic about Gates’ essay is how he frames and skews this fact.

The frame is this. Black and White people in the United States should now “get over” slavery because as we all know, this was not a racial thing but an economic thing. Since both Blacks and Whites were culpable, the call for reparations is indeed meaningless and bereft of any moral weight. If we take Gates’ argument to its full conclusion, we might claim that it is not America or Europe, but the long suffering, impoverished, and debt-ridden nations of Africa, that should really pay reparations to Black Americans. “The problem with reparations,” Gates proclaims, is “from whom they would be extracted.” This is a dilemma since Africans were neither “ignorant or innocent,” when it came to the slave trade.

At its worse, Gates’ argument resembles that of some Holocaust deniers who don’t deny that “bad things” happened to the Jews, but add that maybe the Nazi’s weren’t the only ones to blame. Maybe the Jews, in part, did it to themselves. Stories that over-emphasize the role of the Judenrats (Jewish Councils), for example, who were coerced into providing slave labor to the Nazis and organized Jews to be sent to the concentration camps, distorts the real culprits and criminals of the Holocaust, and in the final analysis, serves to blame the victims.

Even though African monarchs did collaborate in the selling of blacks bodies into slavery, what happened after that was the establishment of a heinous and brutal system that rested squarely on the dual pillars of White supremacy and ruthless capitalist greed. There was nothing African-inspired about it.

It is with the construction of a racialized slave regime in the Americas that a new form of the ancient institution of slavery was honed and refashioned. African slaves in the Americas, unlike most other places, were deemed slaves for life, and their offspring were enslaved. Moreover, Black servants were distinguished from white servants (who were also badly treated) and stripped of all rights and recourse. As slavery evolved even “free” Blacks were denied basic rights by virtue of sharing ancestry and phenotype with the enslaved population.

Racism, as so many scholars have documented was the critical and ideological justification for the exploitation, or more accurately, theft, of black labor for some 300 years. Blacks were deemed inferior, childlike, savage, and better suited to toiling in the hot sun than Whites, and innately incapable of governing themselves. These are the racist myths and narratives that justified slavery in the Americas. It was indeed different in this way from other slave systems where the fabricated mythologies of race did not rule the day.

Another problem with Gates narrative about slavery is that he neglects to examine the plantation experience itself as the main ground on which African and African-American labor was exploited. As distinguished historian, Eric Foner, points out in his letter to the Times on April 26, in critical response to Gates, the internal U.S. slave trade, which had nothing to do with Africa or African elites, involved the buying and selling of over two million Black men, women and children between 1820 and 1860. Slavery existed for over a half century after the abolition of the trans-Atlantic trade in 1807. Even if African monarchs were complicit in and benefited individually from the trade, none of them received dividends from the profits generated by the production of millions of tons of tobacco, sugar and cotton by the stolen labor of imprisoned African and African-American plantation workers (i.e. slaves). It is this appropriation of millions of hours of uncompensated labor that is the core of the reparations demand.

Professor Gates’ selective storytelling and slanted use of history paints a very different picture than does the collective scholarship of hundreds of historians over the last fifty years or so. A learned man who commands enormous resources and unparalleled media attention, why would Gates put this argument forward so vehemently now? It is untimely at best. At a time when ill-informed and self-congratulatory commentaries about how far America has come on the race question, abound, Gates weighs in to say, we can also stop “blaming” ourselves (‘ourselves’ meaning white Americas or their surrogates) for slavery. The burden of race is made a little bit lighter by Gates’ revisionist history. It is curious that the essay appears at the same time that we not only see efforts to minimize the importance of race or racism, but at a moment when there is a rather sinister attempt to rewrite the antebellum era as the good old days of southern history. Virginia Governor Bob McConnell went so far as to designate a month in honor of the pro-slavery Confederacy.

Gates’ essay fits conveniently into the new discourse on post-racialism. Slavery was long ago, the story goes, and Black Americans have come such a long way. So, we need to stop embracing ‘victimhood,’ get over it and move on. We need to stop complaining and ‘end the blame game,’ with regards to racism. After all, doesn’t the election of Barack Obama relegate racism to the dustbins of history? Gates goes even further to suggest that even the worst marker of American racism, slavery, wasn’t so exclusively racial after all.

Clearly, there has been racial progress in the United States since the Civil War and the Civil Rights Movement. That progress was born of decades of struggle and protest. But we have not come as far as some would have us believe. And we don’t escape history by either tracing common ancestry or blaming others for comparable crimes. Reconciliation with the past is a long, arduous and complex process and there are no shortcuts. Moreover, ‘the past’ is not so long ago. In other words, chattel slavery ended in the United States in the 1860s but, as Herb Boyd, in yet another letter to the New York Times in response to Gates, rightly points out, “the economic disadvantage of Black workers extended beyond the long night of slavery into the iniquitous era of Jim Crow” (marked by segregation, legal disenfranchisement, and rampant violence). Moreover, we don’t have to go back to Jim Crow to see the ravages of American racism, a racism that took hold under slavery. Today, millions of young Black men and women are caged, shackled and dehumanized by a prison system that is growing rapidly, privatizing and increasingly exploiting the labor of its inmates. That scenario is far from Harvard Square, where police harassment lands you in the White House and on television. But the reality of the 21st century carceral state suggests that various forms of coercion and containment are palpably present today. It is not slavery but a powerful reminder of it. And once again people of color are disproportionately impacted.

Finally, despite its flawed and reckless uses of history, and powerfully disturbing political messages, there are some useful lessons embedded in Professor Gates’ essay. The lessons are about the self-serving role of certain Black elites, who in slavery times and now, will sell (or sell out) other Black bodies for their own gain and advancement. African royalty did it in the 1600s and 1700s. Comprador elites did it in colonial and postcolonial settings through the Global South. And certain public figures, in political, cultural and academic circles, do so today, with a kind of moral blindness and impunity that rivals the slave sellers of old. As we know, ideas have consequences. And misleading narratives that fuel and validate new forms of denial and given cover to resurgent forms of racism should not be taken lightly.

***

Barbara Ransby* is a historian, writer, and longtime political activist. Ransby has published dozens of articles and essays in popular and scholarly venues. She is most notably the author of an award-winning biography of civil rights activist Ella Baker, entitled Ella Baker and the Black Freedom Movement: A Radical Democratic Vision, (University of North Carolina, 2003).

Bookmark and Share

A Ma Dukes Re-Mixes "Suite for Ma Dukes"

The Sounds of VTech / Georgia Anne Muldrow Remix: Untitled/Fantastic



Bookmark and Share

No Shade, My Obama: Musings in Postracialism II



No Shade, My Obama: Musings in Postracialism II
by Regina Barnett

After a nearly three year drought, Aaron McGruder blessed the masses with a fresh season of The Boondocks. While hilarity ensued – “Dick Riding Obama” is what’s hot in them streets! – one has to look past the comedy and question the severity of numerous issues McGruder raises about yet another postracial “moment” in American history – the 2008 election of President Barack Obama. “Ehh.”

The show opens with an introduction by German filmmaker Werner Herzog (who makes a cameo appearance). Herzog visits Woodcrest in hopes of documenting the campaign of Barack Obama. He gathers the “usual suspects” – Huey, Riley, Granddad, Tom and Sara DuBois, and Thugnificent – to discuss the impact of Obama’s presidential campaign on race relations and America. What is most peculiar about the framing of this episode is Herzog’s covering of an American historical moment.

While it is no question that Obama is a global icon, I find it fascinating that McGruder selected a controversial German filmmaker to help construct the episode’s intent. Herzog’s presence in the show embodies the underlying social-political charges against Obama to be a communist, an outsider, and a threat to American democracy and life. Even more intrusive in our attempts to deconstruct this opening installment is the idea of foreign spectatorship and its (often presumptuous) racial associations based upon social trends and media imagery.

Herzog’s questioning speaks on two levels – the cynicism of a foreign spectator towards not only American racial politics but black American politics and the aloofness of the African American community in their associations with Obama strictly based on his skin color. This is made (painfully) obvious with Thugnificent’s inability to name the three branches of government while being interviewed by Bill Maher. In similar fashion to his interview with Herzog, Thugnificent discusses his social awakening and fervent support of Obama because of his blackness. While Herzog subtly points to his aloofness, Maher blatantly speaks to his political detachment and, pulling from his own intellect and white privilege, snobbishly remarks “if you are what black leadership is, I’m glad I’m a white man.”

Read the Full Essay @ Red Clay Scholar

Bookmark and Share

Remembering Dad on What Would Have Been His 75th Birthday



Dance for My Father
by Mark Anthony Neal

A few years ago my mother asked for one of those favors that you really don't want to do but you know you ought to, particularly when you're an only child. For more than a decade, my father suffered from a degenerative disease that has left him paralyzed from his waist down and with limited movement of his arms. Though my father had nursing assistants with him for up to ten hours a day, his health also paralyzed my mother by limiting the amount of time she was able to spend outside of their home to trips to the store or visits to the doctor. Thus I really couldn't deny her request that I make the drive from upstate New York to spend the day with my father in their Bronx apartment — the same apartment I grew up in — while she took a trip to Baltimore Harbor to spend the day with some family and friends.

As a kid my father and I were reasonably close. Willie Mays was his favorite ball player, so when Mays was traded to the New York Mets in 1972, Mays became my favorite ballplayer and I've been a Mets fan ever since. But as I ventured into adulthood I can't say that our conversations ever broached subjects beyond sports, music and the more than occasional query about how much money I make. Understanding that I'd be spending some ten hours with homie, I copped some music for the day — The Best of The Dixie Hummingbirds, The Five Blind Boys of Mississippi and The Mighty Clouds of Joy — and though we talked very little that afternoon, my father shared with me a lifetime of joys, pains, and hopes simply in the way he listened to the music. At one point as we sat there, he stopped me mid-sentence, so that he could hear Archie Brownlee, the original lead-singer of the Blind Boys of Mississippi, sing a riff. It was a reminder that with my father, it has always been about the music.

Indeed my earliest memory of hearing music came with my father sitting shotgun in my uncle's car while Junior Walker's "What Does it Take (To Win Your Love)" blared on the radio. That would have been the summer of 1969 and I would have been three. Most of the time that I spent with my father as a child was on Sunday mornings, his day of "rest" — he worked 60-hours a week, Monday through Saturday in Brooklyn — and I had to share him on those mornings with his music. Thus by the age of eight-years-old, I had already acquired a taste for black gospel quartets like the Highway QCs, The Swanee Quartet, The Pilgrim Jubilee Singers, The Soul Stirrers and of course Joe Ligon and The Mighty Clouds of Joy.

While my father clearly dug all of the quartet groups, including the Sam Cooke version of the Soul Stirrers, by far his favorite was The Mighty Clouds of Joy. It resulted in much of the Sunday music being devoted to them, most notably their recording In Concert: Live at the Music Hall (1966) which was recorded in Houston, TX. Founded in 1960 in Los Angeles, The Mighty Clouds of Joy quickly became the standard bearers of the quartet tradition, in large part because of their ability to bridge the gap between the black secular world and the black sacred one. That was undoubtedly part of the appeal they held for my father, who was never a religious man and who, as I recall, has been in a church less than ten times in my lifetime. Within the tradition of black vocal groups the legend of the Mighty Clouds of Joy rivals that of The Temptations and The Dells, and during their peak in the late '60s and '70s, The Mighty Clouds even shared a tailor with The Temptations. Their lead singer Joe Ligon, still with the group after 44 years, belongs to a small group of black male singers whose voices should be regarded as national treasurers — Marvin Gaye, Bobby "Blue" Bland, Donny Hathaway, Sam Cooke, Al Green, Marvin Junior, Teddy Pendergrass, Walter Jackson, Jerry Butler, Luther Vandross, Russell Thompkins, Jr., David Ruffin and Jeffrey Osbourne.

I've listened to Live at the Concert Hall hundreds of times, many of those times while sitting on the living room floor, not far from my entranced father. And of course this was back in the day when folks didn't have turntables, but record players, so my father often let that first side of Live at the Concert Hall play over and again. He listened to the first side so much so that when I hear that album today, it recalls a singular memory in my mind — that of my father getting up to do his version of the "holy dance." Never the most agile of men (something he definitely passed on to his son) my father's version of the "holy-dance" — a one-footed stomping affair, with almost Frankenstein-like finger-snapping gestures — was barely different than the dance he did while listening to Jimmie Smith, B. B. King and Jimmy McGriff (his listening pleasures, once he put the quartets to rest). Though most of the time he listened to his music in a sorta gangsta-lean, with a cigarette dangling from the ashtray, whenever The Mighty Clouds sang "I Came to Jesus" he was up on his feet. Years later, I can still hear the searing falsetto of one of the Mighty Cloud members —"I came…I came…I came" — while Little Joe begins to hoot and holler — "when I get happy, I do the Holy Thing! Hey!"




In the later years of his life , I thought often about The Mighty Clouds of Joy and Joe Ligon singing "I Came to Jesus." The memories are bittersweet. Those days watching my father, my hero, were some of the best times of my childhood — what son didn't love the times he could share the world with his father? But I also realize that my father will never again dance to the Mighty Clouds of Joy, and that my daughters will never fully understand where their father gets his sense of rhythm from. Every once in awhile when I'm by myself, I'll put on Live at the Concert Hall and when "I Came to Jesus" comes on, I get up and dance — for my father.

Originally Published at SeeingBlack.com

Bookmark and Share

Monday, May 3, 2010

The Future of Learning: FutureWeb 2010



Future of learning to be determined by students, panel says

Though they discussed a wide array of topics, the Future of Learning Panel centered its conversation on one theme articulated by session Chair Cathy Davidson: “How do we make the most of traditional institutions and unite worlds that are not always part of our institutions as traditionally conceived?”

The panel consisted of five professors from Duke University:

* Cathy Davidson, co-founder of HASTAC – the Humanities, Arts, Science and Technology Advanced Collaboratory
* Laurent Dubois, a historian of French colonialism and the Caribbean
* Negar Mottahedeh, a highly respected academic author who staged the first-ever Twitter Film Festival
* Mark Anthony Neal, the author of four books, a frequent commentator for National Public Radio and contributor to several on-line media outlets
* Tony O’Driscoll, author of “Learning in 3D: Adding a New Dimension to Enterprise Learning and Collaboration,” with Karl M. Kapp.

In addition to discussing the future, the panelists talked about some of their individual experiments with technology in the classroom. Mottahedeh spoke about her experiment with the Twitter Film Festival in her introduction to film studies class. Students posted video clips to a class blog and Tweeted about them with links to analysis. The effort attracted more than 300 followers from all walks of life.

Dubois is currently working on a project called the Haiti Lab that will link Haitian students with faculty through the Internet to continue education while the country is still in a state of disrepair.

“There’s a need for the university to be a space of rapid reaction,” he said. “Haiti needs an immediate plan and action.”

Read the Full Essay HERE

Bookmark and Share

Kevin Powell: Immigration and Diversity in America



Immigration and Diversity in America
By Kevin Powell

Arizona has a very serious problem. Arizona’s problem is us. It does not want us here.

I am paraphrasing words spoken by Malcolm X back in the 1960s in reference to the American racial segregation policies of those times. Those words could have been spoken in any era of our country’s history. The word “us” could refer to Native Americans. Or Irish Americans. Or Italian Americans. Or Jewish people. Or to the Chinese who were excluded from certain communities and states. Or to the Japanese detained during World War II. Or to Arabs and Muslims, especially since September 11th.

So to focus solely on that sweltering state we call Arizona would be a terrible mistake. That is simply too easy. Yes, Arizona’s new anti-immigration law identifying, prosecuting, and deporting illegal immigrants is detestable, inhuman, and, no doubt, racist toward the mostly Latino population affected by it. And yes I have residual memories of Arizona refusing to honor Dr. King’s birthday as a holiday during the Reagan era. But this is not some isolated example of pure ignorance. As much as I’d like to say otherwise, the sad reality is that our nation has a history of taking two steps back (the rise of the Tea Party, and this new Arizona law) for every step forward (the historic election of President Barack Obama).

The deeper issue is that after 234 years, the United States of America still does not know what it is, or what it wants to be. The America I see as I travel the country as a speaker and political organizer is a land of great diversity, of many races, cultures, and tongues. A nation where the world’s population has come, some willingly, some out of necessity, and some, like my ancestors, by brute and lethal force. But come we have, and here we are, in this grand but shaky experiment, to see if we really can “form a more perfect union” as the U.S. Constitution puts it.

But as long as the narrative of America is told by the conquerors and not the conquered, —to loosely quote the late great historian Howard Zinn in his landmark A People’s History of The United States—then we will continue to have a country where hostile White crowds morph from the Klan to the Dixiecrats to the Tea Party, remixing the tired slogan “We want our country back” for a new generation of bigots who claim to be patriotic but who might struggle with the American History questions on the game show Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?

One indisputable fact is that from the time of America’s “founding,” immigration has been crucial to this nation’s growth—and also a source of conflict. Anyone who doubts this should re-watch Martin Scorcese’s grossly underrated film Gangs of New York, in which newly arriving Irish Catholic Whites found themselves pitted against “Native” Whites on the eve of the Civil War. We know that this particular immigration explosion lasted well into the 1920s.

Here we are now in the early morning of the 21st century, and we’re experiencing the biggest surge of immigration in nearly 100 years. But this time they are not coming from Europe. They are coming from Latin America. From Asia. From Africa. From the darker and more “exotic” parts of the globe. They work hard. They raise families. They play by the rules. And they are terrified of being deported. They are called “foreigners” and “illegal aliens” as if their contributions to our society, indeed their very existence, was somehow undeserving of respect.

Those who participate in the marginalization of immigrants don’t have the good sense to recognize that, along with slave labor, America was built on the backs of immigrants. Then and now. Maybe it’s because I grew up in Jersey City where, because my generation was the first to go to integrated schools, I learned to love and appreciate people of all cultures. As a child, my friends were Black and Puerto Rican, Dominican and Jewish, Polish, Italian, and Irish, with a little German thrown in for good measure. I remember my Filipino and Indian friends too. I saw difference, yes. But I also saw humanity. And I was fascinated, not repulsed or terrified, by this rich cultural diversity.

Yes, I did go through a period in my life, during college, where I embraced hardcore Black nationalism. What Black kid at a majority White university might not do the same during those formative years? I was a highly sensitive young person, trying to figure out who I was.

But somewhere between my years on MTV’s “The Real World,” those years with VIBE magazine, my cross country drive from Atlanta to Los Angeles, and my visits to 46 of America’s 50 states these past 15 years or so, I began to broaden my thinking, to shift my passion from rage to love. I also began to feel a sense of kinship with people. All people.

Now of course I realize my life experiences have been rather unique. But even if you cannot or choose not to travel as I do, nothing prevents you from picking up a book. A good one to start with is Zinn’s, cited above. And nothing prevents you from turning your own fear and hatred and into courage and love. When we are unjust to one group, we are also being unjust to God, and to ourselves. That is the crux of the problem with Arizona’s despicable law, with the Tea Party zealots who continue to create a climate of violence in the era of Obama, and with you, or I, if we see this going on around us and we say absolutely nothing. To me there is no worse form of cowardice than inaction in the face of injustice. Or complete silence.

So let me say this very plainly: immigration is the American civil rights issue of the 21st century. As an African American it pains me to see the Facebook posts by young Blacks saying “we should just kick the aliens out of the country.” I get it: when a group has been marginalized and discriminated against as long as Black folks have been in America, a certain paranoia sets in. Some of us Blacks have been so well conditioned to the idea of being a “the minority” in this nation, that we just cannot imagine being shoved aside by this rapidly growing Latino population. Our employment status, or lack thereof, has led many Blacks to suggest—in the meanest ways possible—that Latinos have taken our jobs. That is not even the issue. The real challenge is why do we continue to have mass poverty, high unemployment, and so few opportunities for so many Americans, whether they are Black, Latino, or a working-class White person from a rural community?

So, yes, let’s boycott Arizona until this law is overturned. If Arizona is now going to stop and harass Latinos as if they were some kind of fascist state, then that state does not deserve a dime of your hard-earned money. But let’s not stop there. My campaign for Congress has articulated a new vision for America’s immigration policy, detailed on my website www.kevinpowell.net:

• Change immigration policy from a paradigm of protectionism and fear to one of pragmatism and opportunity

• Fully fund USCIS to allow our immigration service to modernize its systems, eliminate its backlog of applications, and assist millions of Americans currently eligible for citizenship

• Create a fair path to citizenship for those inside our borders that focuses on integrating law-abiding immigrants into our national fabric and strengthening our communities

• Reduce corporate America’s ability to use immigrants as economic pawns by ensuring that companies pay workers fair wages

• Promote unity and harmony by strengthening the lines of communication between local government, law enforcement, and immigrant communities

And more than any of these, let us begin to treat Latinos and other new immigrants, no matter where we reside, as human beings, not as servants, not as a source of cheap labor, not as people who ought to learn English—or else. If we truly want to communicate with them, let us start by giving them the same degree of love and respect that we give ourselves. And by the way, my fellow Americans, there is nothing wrong with learning, say, Spanish. The fact is that Latinos will be the majority population in America in a few decades. And how embarrassing is it that so many citizens of the most developed nation on the planet cannot speak a second language—as citizens in so many other countries do?

Finally, let’s stop saying this is a post-racial America. As long as we live in an America that can pass laws like this, then it’s clear to me that Barack Obama’s November 2008 victory was not the ultimate achievement some of us may have thought it was. Our work has only just begun.

# # #

Kevin Powell is 2010 Democratic candidate for the United States House of Representatives, the 10th Congressional District in Brooklyn, NY. You can reach him at www.kevinpowell.net. To DONATE NOW to Kevin Powell for Congress, click this link www.kevinpowell.net/contribute.php


Bookmark and Share

Why Ken Lewis’s Senate Campaign Matters



A Government of the People?
Why Ken Lewis’s Senate Campaign Matters
by Mark Anthony Neal

Political pundits continue to discuss contemporary electoral politics along largely symbolic fault-lines—as if every voter‘s profile can be summed up as Left, Right or Independent. Less discussed in the fact that the most influential and visible political body in this country is largely out-of-sync with the demographic groups it ostensibly represents.

Though non-Hispanic Whites make up less than 70% percent of the population in the United States, the US Senate is 96% White. New Jersey’s Bob Menendez (Latino), Hawaii’s Daniel Akaka (the first Chinese-American elected to the Senate) and Dan Inouye (Japanese-American), and Roland Burris (African-American), who was appointed amidst controversy to replace Barack Obama, are the faces of Senate’s version of racial diversity. Additionally, while there are several prominent women in the Senate including Olympia Snowe and Diane Feinstein, there are only 14 women that currently serve in the Senate.

In the second decade of the 21st century and thirty-years from the realization of predictions that non-Hispanic Whites will no longer be the majority in this country, the United States Senate is overwhelmingly White and male. Ironically as many continue to question whether President Barack Obama, the first Black President and recently appointed Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayer, the high court’s first Latino appointee, can represent all of country’s citizens, few seemed compelled to raise the same question with regards to the US Senate.

How different might deliberations about health care reform, immigration, the policing of Wall Street and support for public education, for example, have been had they occurred within a body that better reflected the population in the United States?

The historical lack of diversity in the Senate, in comparison with the Supreme Court , another elite political body, is striking. The number of African-Americans who have served on the Supreme Court (2) is only two less than the number of African-Americans who have been elected or appointed to the Senate since Reconstruction. With the exception of Senator Edward Brooke, who was elected to the Senate from Massachusetts in 1966, the remaining three African Americans who have served in the Senate since Reconstruction were all appointed or elected from the state of Illinois. On a statistical level, an African American is more likely to be elected President, than they are to be elected to the Senate.

This is why Ken Lewis’s Senate campaign in North Carolina is so vital to America’s democratic vision. Lewis’s candidacy represents an historical opportunity to continue to bring diversity to the political bodies that represent the nation as a whole. Indeed Lewis’s campaign represents an opportunity for North Carolina voters to put aside the memories of the bitter Senate campaigns of 1990 and 1996, that pitted Jessie Helms against Harvey Gantt, the first African-American elected Mayor of Charlotte, NC. In the midst of a tight race in 1990, Helms resorted to race-baiting tactics by running the infamous “Hands” commercial which depicted a pair of White hands crumpling a job rejection letter, as a voice-over suggest that it was the fault of racial quotas in hiring practices.



Barack Obama’s victory in North Carolina during the 2008 Presidential election suggest that North Carolina voters have gotten past some of the racial divides of the past. That Ken Lewis race has not been an issue with regards to his qualifications is a testament to the brave new political world that North Carolina has helped to bring about. That Ken Lewis’s campaign has been taken seriously is a testament to the diversity that we all must value as the country moves forward.

Bookmark and Share