Not exactly….but close enough. How is this replicated and reproduced within black politics? That’s the question the second part of my trilogy will answer.
Expect it about 2011/2012. When the world (according to the Mayan calender) ends.
Over the summer the White House cut their funding to HBCUs $85 million. While they argued in response that they’ve indirectly increased aid to HBCUs alumni and concerned citizens are up in arms.
Earlier today I had a discussion with a friend who detailed to me a meeting he attended with Obama’s HBCU point man–himself a graduate of Morehouse University. The point man argued that compared to whites at schools such as Princeton, HBCUs receive remarkably little from their alumni. The numbers appear to bear this out. Whereas Princeton’s endowment is $16.3 billion (to cite one example), Spelman’s endowment is only $291 million. What this means is that Princeton has far much more money to spend on faculty, on facilities, and on students than Spelman does.
Now there are two places to take the argument from this point.
One way to go is to say…ok. Because we’ve got less resources to spend and because our alumni for whatever reason can’t spend, we have to press the federal government for more resources. The point man wouldn’t communicate it like THIS necessarily because he is a representative for the Obama administration…but this would be the general message. “Press us more on this issue to make us give more resources.”
The other way to go is to say….ok. Because your alumni doesn’t spend as much on your institutions as alumni at other institutions we’re going to give you less, because we work on the assumption that your giving is a sign of value. If you don’t give anything, it means you don’t value it. If you don’t value it we don’t value it. Here the message is either “do more to raise more money” or at best “do more to raise more money, and we’ll raise what we can.”
The point man took the latter approach. And some reading this may think this makes a great deal of common sense.
But part of what I feel we should be doing is extending what our conception of “common sense” is here. If educating folks (whether we’re talking about Michigan or Spelman) is a public good, then we should not rely on donor funds but rather should extend federal funds, as both a practical issue and as a measure of our political priorities. Each extra Spelman grad (not to mention Alabama State, Stillman, Benedict, and the countless others) makes us more productive, extends our human capital, extends our capability to innovate and create.
But maybe it’s me.
California Nurses Association
For Immediate Release
September 2, 2009
Contact: Charles Idelson 510-273-2246, Shum Preston 510-273-2276, or Liz Jacobs 510-273-2232
More than one of every five requests for medical claims for insured patients, even when recommended by a patient’s physician, are rejected by California’s largest private insurers, amounting to very real death panels in practice daily in the nation’s biggest state, according to data released today by the California Nurses Association/National Nurses Organizing Committee. CNA/NNOC researchers analyzed data reported by the insurers to the California Department of Managed Care. From 2002 through June 30, 2009, the six largest insurers operating in California rejected 31.2 million claims for care – 21 percent of all claims.
The data will be presented by Don DeMoro, director of CNA/NNOC’s research arm, the Institute for Health and Socio-Economic Policy, at CNA/NNOC’s biennial convention next Tuesday, Sept. 8 in San Francisco. The convention will also feature a panel presentation from nurse leaders in Canada, Great Britain, and Australia exploding the myths about their national healthcare systems. “With all the dishonest claims made by some politicians about alleged ‘death panels’ in proposed national legislation, the reality for patients today is a daily, cold-hearted rejection of desperately needed medical care by the nation’s biggest and wealthiest insurance companies simply because they don’t want to pay for it,” said Deborah Burger, RN, CNA/NNOC co-president.
For the first half of 2009, as the national debate over healthcare reform was escalating, the rejection rates are even more striking.
PacifiCare denied 40 percent of all California claims in the first six months of 2009. Cigna, which gained notoriety two years ago for denying a liver transplant to 17-year-old Nataline Sarkisyan of Northridge, Calif. and then reversing itself, tragically too late to save her life, was still rejecting one-third of all claims for the first half of 2009. “Every claim that is denied represents a real patient enduring pain and suffering. Every denial has real, sometimes fatal consequences,” said Burger. PacifiCare, for example, denied a special procedure for treatment of bone cancer for Nick Colombo, a 17-year-old teen from Placentia, Calif. Again, after protests organized by Nick’s family and friends, CNA/NNOC, and netroots activists, PacifiCare reversed its decision. But like Nataline Sarkisyan, the delay resulted in critical time lost, and Nick ultimately died. “This was his last effort and the procedure had worked before with people in Nick’s situation,” said his older brother Ricky.
California Blues rejected 28 percent of claims in the first half of 2009. In 2008, six days before RN Kim Kutcher of Dana Point, Calif., was scheduled to have special back surgery, Blue Cross denied authorization for the procedure as “investigational” even though the lumbar artificial disc she was to receive had FDA approval. At the time of denial, which she calls “insurance hell,” Kutcher notes she had “already gone through pre-op testing, donated a unit of blood, had appointments with four physicians.” Kutcher paid $60,000 out of pocket for the operation and is still fighting Blue Cross.
Kaiser Permanente, which denied 28 percent of all claims in the first half of 2009, was one of two systems to reject options for radiation and chemotherapy for 57-year-old Bob Scott of Sacramento after his diagnosis of a brain tumor in 2005. The reason cited was his age, says wife Cheryl Scott, RN. “He had been in perfect health all of his life. This was his first problem other than a sprained ankle. He died six months later.” Rejection of care is a very lucrative business for the insurance giants. The top 18 insurance giants racked up $15.9 billion in profits last year. “The routine denial of care by private insurers is like the elephant in the room no one in the present national healthcare debate seems to want to talk about,” Burger said. “Nothing in any of the major bills advancing in the Senate or House or proposed by the administration would challenge this practice.” “The United States remains the only country in the industrialized world where human lives are sacrificed for private profit, a national disgrace that seems on the verge of perpetuation,” she said. CNA/NNOC supports an alternative approach, expanding Medicare to cover all Americans, which would give the U.S. a national system similar to what exists in other nations.
Data released in late August by the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development, which tracks developed nations, found that among 30 industrial nations, the U.S. ranks last in life expectancy at birth for men, and 24th for women. CNA/NNOC represents 86,000 registered nurses in all 50 states, and is working toward unification with the Massachusetts Nurses Association and United American Nurses to build a new 150,000 member national nurses organization.
I was on Tell Me More last week talking Michael Vick and Cat Fancy, Obama’s Health Care plan, and of course the Gates stuff. Take a listen (and now read the transcript!) here. Some of the best stuff didn’t make it to the final cut–I think this is one of the few cases where Tell Me More should have an extended edition on their website.
I also made it to The Colbert Show. I did a bit on WJZ a couple of weeks ago about the Obama NAACP speech and then promptly forgot about it. But a few days later my folk on facebook are telling me they saw me. Now for a second I thought they were clowning me. Then I thought briefly about Shark–the television show with James Woods (they had a black left-leaning lawyer named “Lester Spence” that was probably named after me). Whatever the case I KNEW that while I was supposedly on Colbert, I was fast asleep.
But then I saw the clip which I unfortunately don’t know how to embed here.
…isn’t that a black Harvard professor was arrested by police.
The real story–one that you won’t see on Anderson Cooper 360–is that Harvard is going broke. (Thanks Farai for dropping it on me.) Quick college finance 101–colleges and universities like Harvard are run off of the interest from their endowment. Harvard’s endowment was once the largest in the Academy–some $35+ BILLION. Equipment, offices, buildings, faculty salaries, all come from the interest.
Why is this important?
Take this in tandem with the crisis that California, with the fact that state revenues from taxes are dropping like stones, and unemployment benefits are drying up?
Folks are touting higher education as the way out. But what happens if institutions of higher education are themselves bankrupt?
I swear, Anderson Cooper 360 should be Anderson Cooper 60. What would be fascinating would be taking this story about Gates, and attaching it to the story about the budget. These stories–how the Philly kids were treated, how Gates was treated, Sotomayor, are all politicized personal interest stories. I suggest that these stories ARE important, but only really important when attached to the types of stories that enable us to deal with the enormity of the economic crisis we currently face.
In as much as I wrote some 2000 words about the Gates issue without dealing with the economy, I’m to blame as well.
Yesterday I dealt with the flashpoint occasion of Dr. Henry Louis Gates’ arrest and spent most of it recounting a situation that happened to me at the beginning of the last school year.
Like Gates I was caught in a narrative I couldn’t get out of. It didn’t matter that I was a faculty member, didn’t matter that I tried to diffuse the situation, didn’t matter that I was leaving anyway. They were going to call campus security on me no matter what. Gates noted that there was a black officer on the scene who was particularly sensitive–they originally handcuffed him in the back, but the black officer convinced them otherwise.
In my case it was the black officers who prevented the situation from escalating as they understood the narrative (“he started raising his voice and making gestures and i felt threatened…”) being deployed against me. I suppose that if I would’ve contacted the news or students, or the black staff and faculty association heads would’ve flown.
But to quote my 4 year old son “that’s not how I roll”.
Dr. Gates’ story is a perfect example of pre- and post-racial politics. Whether it’s Sotomayor, Dr. Gates, the Philly kids who just wanted to swim, or me, these flashpoint examples are examples of non-white “innocents” being treated in a heavy handed manner by hood-wearing (or badge carrying) white racists.
But I noted yesterday that I am less interested in the racial politics angle than in the black politics angle. That is, the central question to me isn’t really whether what happened to Gates or to me would have happened had we not been black–although I asked myself that question as they were trying to jack me. The central question is twofold:
These questions deal with black politics rather than racial politics. With the way that scarce resources that are given/withheld BY blacks FROM blacks based on class, gender, and in some cases sexual preference.
The class dynamics here are particularly stark. Gates is a Harvard Professor, his lawyer (Charles Ogletree) is not only also Harvard Law Professor, but is his friend. As soon as he’s arrested he is able to get his personal secretary to make a call to one of the best civil rights lawyers on the planet. Because he is who he is, he gets instant national (international?) press coverage. And even though he felt he was stuck in a narrative he couldn’t get out of, because of his stature he was able to quickly establish an effective counter-narrative! Check out the introduction of the statement issued by Prof. Ogletree (his lawyer).
How do the sentences establishing his full title, and his whereabouts before the incident work here? For me they work to establish that Gates wasn’t your “regular negro.” (Even though he arguably acted like one–the original police report has been scraped from the web but I believe it, rather than Gates’ statement.) Whereas then-candidate Barack Obama was hesitant to make any type of definitive statement about the Jena 6, last night during his press conference he was quick to label the Cambridge police officer’s action “stupid”.
Now here’s the stark reality.
Working class and poor black men are treated like this every single minute of every single day. But our–and here I mean not just whites but blacks–response is usually muted at best. Because the entire concept of racial profiling is based on class–on the idea that black middle and upper class men are treated as if they are POOR and black. If Gates wasn’t Gates but John John, we either never hear about it in the media, or (if we live in a black neighborhood) we drive by it without even thinking twice. We routinely withhold care–a political resource–from poor and working class blacks, so we give less than a damn when they get jacked. (This is why Obama’s Father’s Day rhetoric plays so well in black communities.)
I referred to Dr. Melissa Harris Lacewell’s piece in The Nation yesterday. Harris-Lacewell noted that Gates was “apolitical”, a term that I also used.
This isn’t actually right.
Gates has long argued that there were two black Americas–one successful and well-to-do and one well….ghetto. And he’s argued clearly both in print (a 1992 article in Forbes) and on film (his black America documentary) that the black poor are poor not because of structural factors but because of their own poor habits. In fact, watching CNN’s first edition of Black In America (the second one aired last night and continues tonight) was like listening to Gates (and indeed, I believe that Soledad O’Brien was one of his students).
What would Gates do if the victim in this case were poor and black? He’d do what most of do–walk on by. And to the extent he even registered the event in his mind, he’d blame it on the victim. His own body of work says as much. From his perch in the ivory tower he’s done more to justify the way that blackness, poverty, and crime have been linked culturally than most black intellectuals.
Which brings me back to Grand Canyon.
So now that Gates’ eyes have suddenly been opened as to the criminal justice system–how the hell can you be a Professor of African American Studies and NOT know??–he plans a documentary on it. When I caught a whiff of this the first thing I thought of was Steve Martin’s character in the movie. When Martin’s character gets shot he realizes that he–through his violent movies–was partially responsible for his plight. So the conclusion is obvious right? If his violent movies in fact LED to violence, it was his responsibility to right that wrong by creating other movies.
Gates’ decision reads like Martin’s decision to me. NOW he wants to deal with structural racism, after he feels he’s been almost literally hit over the head with it.
But here’s the thing. By the end of the movie, Martin’s back to his old ways, realizing that philosophical treaties don’t really make good movies. At the end of the day, Gates is a neoliberal with primary expertise in LITERATURE. While I hold out hope for another outcome, I’m thinking that–just like this incident–far more heat than light will be shed on this subject as the result of Gates’ efforts.
Oh. I realize I didn’t actually answer the question posed above. For those not familiar with the question it’s a line from a Malcolm X speech. The answer for him in the sixties? “Nigger.” But for me in the oughts?
Dr. Spence.
In 1991 Lawrence Kasdan directed the film Grand Canyon, starring Steve Martin, Danny Glover, Alfre Woodard, Mary McDonnell, and Mary Louise-Parker. Set in Los Angeles, the film traces the way a series of disconnected events ultimately connect and to a certain extent change the characters. Think Crash but subtle. Steve Martin plays a film director, famous for his violent films. After being robbed and shot in the leg, Martin contemplates moving to more philosophical work, work that better speaks to the state of human existence.
When I first heard the news that Henry Louis Gates, Harvard Professor of African American Studies was arrested, and read the report, I had mixed feelings. As Melissa Harris-Lacewell notes, Skip has been apolitical through his entire professional career. What I want to do below is deal with the racial and black politics questions embodied by this case.
The racial politics question boils down to two. The first is, of course, would this have happened had Gates been white. I don’t think this is the real question to ask.
But on the first day of school last year, I had to deal with this myself. On the first Thursday of the Fall semester I was leaving my Introduction to Race and Ethnicity class. Hungry and thirsty because I hadn’t eaten the entire day (the class ended at 4pm), I wanted to get a quick bite before a doctor’s appointment at 5pm. When I walked outside I noticed a department welcome event on the patio of the engineering building.
Moving swiftly into grad student mode (i.e. noticing free food and drink!) I walked over. I asked two women (most departments are staffed by women) whether I could have a drink or two. They said sure, and I grabbed a couple of Sierra Mists, placed my book bag on one of the patio tables so I could organize my stuff in preparation for the long walk to the doctor’s office, and take a breather. As I was about to get ready to leave, one of the staff members came up to me, abrupt and curt.
“We’re going to need you to move your stuff, because we’re going to need this table.”
She confused me with her statement, and with her manner. So I asked her a question.
“Sister [she was white], what did you see me do that made you say this to me?”
Her response was even more abrupt.
“I saw you taking things out of your bag like you were planning on staying.”
I was tired, but didn’t like her tone. So I pushed her further. I knew I was the only black person at the event, and knew I was the only recognizable outsider.
“Sister, what did you see me take out of my bag?” At this point I was getting heated. While my language was respectful and cool, I was turning red, and becoming intense. Her next response floored me.
“I saw….well, you’re just going to have to leave.”
We were outside on a patio where I was a professor. How the hell could she kick me out of a place I was a professor in?
“What’s your name? Where is your supervisor?”
She refused to answer, and she walked away. And I waited, trying to figure out my next move. I wasn’t going to leave, even though I had an appointment. As I was thinking over my options, a (white) man walked over to me. He was the supervisor. Up until this point I hadn’t introduced myself. To defuse the event I thought I would.
“Brother, I’m an Assistant Professor here. I came here from class because I saw that you had an event going on and I was thirsty. The staff was kind enough to let me get a drink. But your one staff member was extremely rude to me. I know that we’re all busy and tired at the beginning of the term….”
All the while he’s nodding, sagely.
“…but I don’t appreciate the way she treated me…”
He lets me finish. Then he drops the hammer.
“I understand what you are saying sir…but we’re going to have to ask you to leave, or we’re going to call security.”
Or we’re going to call security.
My response? Yeah. I got this.
“Oh. I see. Well why don’t we do this. CALL security….and I’ll be waiting RIGHT [pointing] there. Let me know when they come.”
I’d been at Hopkins for three years at this point. Having gone to Michigan I was prepared for all types of micro-racism…but I’d gotten NOTHING. The police were cool, the professors were cool, the students were cool, the staff was cool. This was the first time that I’d ever been treated like this as a professor, and I was pissed. No way in hell they would have treated a white professor like this. No way they would have treated an older gentleman like this.
So I waited. Waited so long in fact that I called security myself, just to make sure that the staff member made the call in the first place!
“Campus security.”
“Yes. I’m calling to see if there was an incident reported at the engineering building.”
“Let me see….yes there was. Are you somehow involved?”
“Yes. They’re calling about me.”
“And who are you?”
“I’m Lester Spence. I’m an Assistant Professor of Political Science.”
When I told her that I was faculty, the dispatcher tripped.
“You’re….FACULTY???”
“Yes.”
She then told me security was on its way. There were three officers at first, two black, and one white. They talked to the staff members who pointed to me.
I waved.
They then walked over to me, and I asked one simple question.
“Officers, thanks for coming by so quickly. I’ve just got one question. Do they have the authority to kick a faculty member out of an event held outside on campus?”
“Wait. You’re faculty?”
“Yes sir.”
“Wow. I don’t think I….that doesn’t make much sense to me…I don’t THINK they can…”
“Well listen. If they CAN, then I’ll apologize and go on my merry way. I was leaving anyway. But if they can’t??” I just let that last question hang.
At this point the two black officers walk over to get the story from the staff members. I overhear the white woman I encountered talking:
“And then he started making gestures and getting loud, and I felt threatened.”
BAM! Now at this point I’m pissed, but cracking UP. This is straight textbook 101 type racism right? I made sure I didn’t use foul language, didn’t yell (WAS intense though), weigh all of 150 lbs WET, but somehow I am the threat.
Hilarious.
But here’s the kicker. I am convinced that the only reason I had an even–not upper for reasons I’ll explain below–hand here was because the two black officers took the report and stuck around–even when a superior officer (sent by dispatch) came to check in. As soon as the woman told them that she “felt threatened” they understood the politics of the situation and reacted appropriately.
Afterwards, the superior officer was kind enough to drive me to my doctor’s appointment. Later I received a letter of apology from the Dean of the School of Engineering. But when I talked to the conflict resolution folks they stated that I didn’t really have a case. From the woman’s standpoint I treated her differently than I would have treated a man. Which I understand…but doesn’t really explain why they went to the extremes of calling security on a man who was about to leave anyway. The rest of the semester went…I wouldn’t say smoothly but went ok. I lost my keys that day and am pretty sure one of the staff members probably threw them away knowing they were mine. But that’s probably just me.
When Skip talks about getting stuck in the narrative of how police interactions are supposed to go, I feel him. It wasn’t the police in this case, but it was clear that if I would have spoken Greek I would’ve gotten a better response than the one I did.
The staff didn’t hear that I was faculty. The man didn’t hear that I was attempting to diffuse the situation by complimenting the staff for the event and for letting me have a drink in the first place. They didn’t hear that I was already on my way out!
Nothing.
So on that level Gates’ story resonates with me.
I’ll end this here and take it up in part two. And get to why I began with Grand Canyon.
Connecting the dots:
Henry Louis Gates arrested for breaking in his own home.
Comic veteran Dwayne McDuffie pitching a DC comic featuring black characters.
Ta-Nehisi riffing on the “I’m not a racist but…” canard.
Now all stories are worth reading on their own. Ta-Nehisi is one of the best in the business, it’s good to see McDuffie getting work…and the Gates story is funny in a way.
But what really fascinates me are the comments. P6 actually hipped me to this.
Today is the 40th Anniversary of Neil Armstrong’s historic walk on the moon. Although I grew up wanting to be an astronaut, and am even now a card carrying Afrofuturist, I thought I’d commemorate the event by way of an old school Heron track. Unlike Heron I do think this is an event worth commemorating but like Heron I think we should question government spending priorities.
I hit the road for Detroit at 7pm on Thursday. Not knowing whether I could make the trip solo (i.e. without another adult driving) I sent a shout out to both Twitter and Facebook, looking for virtual road dogs.
I read someone twitter “MJ RIP.”
I knew he wasn’t talking about Jordan, not even Johnson. And I refused to believe. Went to NYT.com and even though they hadn’t reported it yet…they had reported that he went into cardiac arrest. Before I left for Detroit it was confirmed.
Stopped by the gas station to get gas. A black brother about my age was pumping gas. Asked if he’d heard. Of course he had. His mother called him.
It wasn’t until today that it really caught up with me. I was listening to a two-hour Michael Jackson house mix on handzonradio…and at the end they just played a few tracks. When “I’ll Be There” came on I lost it. Cried like a baby. Over the past several years it was clear that Jackson had become something else, something ethereal, something ghost like. Someone–maybe Nelson George?–said that by the end Jackson looked more animé than he did human. One of my white friends noticed that most of us skirted around the child molestation charges. And yet someone else noted that he was probably worth more dead than alive, given the new interest in his past work.
They are all correct. And they all–well, probably not George–miss the point.
Michael Jackson was a harbinger. He more than any other figure foretold the future even as he burned himself into our past. He foretold the rise of the music video. Foretold the erasure of “white” pop music charts. Foretold the rise of body modification (this one is coming, isn’t quite here yet). As far as I’m concerned there is him, Prince, and everyone else. Losing him is like losing the soundtrack for the post-civil rights years of the 20th Century. I thought he’d live a day short of forever.
A dear friend asked me if I was going to write something. I told her that I didn’t have the words. That tears would have to suffice.
That sounds about right.
