Race
“An American Story” by Debra Dickerson
The passionate, category-defying journalist levels her tough gaze on her own journey from the ghetto to Harvard Law School and beyond.
Almost no one is exempt from Debra Dickerson’s scrutiny: not Democrats or Republicans; not African-Americans, leftists or gun-toting homeboys. As a journalist, she has exposed the contradictions and inconsistencies of these groups and many more in the New Republic, U.S. News & World Report, Salon and other publications.
Now in her memoir, “An American Story,” Dickerson dissects the people she grew up with and met during her years as an Air Force officer, as a volunteer with the Democratic National Committee and as a Harvard law student. But much of the appeal of “An American Story”‘ is that Dickerson levels an equally tough gaze on her own ideas and choices.
As an adolescent in St. Louis’ ghetto in the 1970s, Dickerson could have been a right-wing poster girl. Black, smart and articulate, the daughter of former sharecroppers, she believed poverty was a choice. To succeed, everyone just needed to work hard — like her. On a visit to a welfare office with her mother, she scoffed at the unwed mothers, corrected the English of the social workers and refused to sit in the “germ-ridden chairs.”
But nothing in Dickerson’s memoir, or her life, is static — least of all her politics. In less than 40 years, she moves from being passionately right wing to left wing to somewhere in between. She’s not a dilettante, but an eager student, hungry to uncover nuances and hypocrisies, even after she has fallen in love with an idea or group of people.
This relentless inquisitiveness makes Dickerson a complicated character. So does her amalgam of anger, insecurity and ambition, which, as Dickerson explains, was fueled by her family as well as by race and class. As a girl, she devoured writings by Maya Angelou, Dickens and C.S. Lewis, and earned A’s in a school for gifted students, but still internalized the limited expectations of her family and her community. Her father, a former Marine and ruthless disciplinarian, suggested she’d be better suited for waitressing than lawyering. And school counselors did nothing to dispel that notion: They never suggested that a bright student shouldn’t spend half of her days in vocational-tech class, polishing her typing and shorthand. And they never mentioned college to her; she received a PSAT application only by accident.
Excelling on the exam wasn’t enough, however, to convince her she was college material. She dodged letters and calls from the admission officers at Duke, Washington University and Bryn Mawr. “I wouldn’t last a week at a university before I’d be found out as the unworthy upstart I was and thrown out … So what if I got good grades? I was blue collar. No one had to tell me I couldn’t go to college because I was poor and black. I told myself.” Her mother, glowing with pride, also viewed the letters as “lovely non sequiturs” and stuffed them in a small drawer. From the start, Dickerson was her own evidence that hard work, in fact, isn’t always enough.
In the Air Force, the potential for a different life dangled in front of her — white music, white friends, tangible rewards for hard work and middle-class security, which is why she was mortified by reminders of the life she tried to leave behind. When a black airman mangled his verbs, Dickerson writes, “all I saw was the sharecropper speech patterns. All I saw was the gold teeth.”
Ideas like these get repetitive in “An American Story” and Dickerson has an unfortunate tendency to interrupt narrative streams with analytical quips. She’s most powerful when she lets her stories, particularly those about her family, speak for themselves. For most of her life, for example, Dickerson was dismissive of her brother, labeling him and his friends as stereotypically failed black men. She’s well into adulthood before she unravels the more complicated story: her brother’s relationship with their father, the abuse he received from neighborhood thugs, his troubles at school. And as she understands the nuances, she feels less threatened by her roots: Her brother becomes her “race consultant,” teaching the strait-laced Dickerson a language and a style that she once shunned.
Through her reconciliation with her brother, her feelings of racial isolation and other events, Dickerson gravitates, emotionally and politically, toward the ghetto again. By the time she becomes a lawyer (and a Democrat), it’s in part to connect with the black community, this time by helping change it. Even still, Dickerson defies categorizing. She may be a liberal African-American but she won’t shrink from challenging the stances of Harvard’s Black Law Students’ Association, which she calls “a fashion show, a politburo meeting, a hotbed of revolution, a social club, a refuge from the white world we’d chosen.”
But despite her boldness, Dickerson is oddly withholding about some aspects of her personal life. She mentions boyfriends long enough to tell us that they are white — piquing our interest for her take on interracial relationships — but then drops the subject completely. On one hand, a memoir written by a woman that doesn’t focus on the agonies and obsessions of love is refreshing. Yet if the rest of her life is any indication, Dickerson’s views on relationships are probably unpredictable, and would have added to the book. You may not like her opinions or the way she expresses them, but it’s hard not to admire Dickerson’s determination and her relentless passion for teasing ideas apart and then putting them back together in her own, atypical way.
Maggie Jones has written for New York, Mirabella and the Philadelphia Inquirer. She lives in Los Angeles. More Maggie Jones.
Stop-and-frisk, eviscerated
A U.S. district judge exposes the NYPD's harassment strategy as racist, unconstitutional
(Credit: Reuters/Carlo Allegri)
This month, a federal judge in New York dealt a blow to “stop-and-frisk,” a policy that resulted in 685,000 recorded police stops in 2011. Eighty-five percent of those stopped were African American and Latino, mostly youths.
The future of whiteness
Both Republican and Democratic racial politics are doomed. How culture shifts will reshape American ideas on race
The Census Bureau has announced that a majority of new-born infants in the U.S. now belong to categories other than what the U.S. federal government calls “non-Hispanic white.”
While so-called “non-Hispanic whites” still account for 49.6 percent of American newborns, immigration has expanded the Hispanic and Asian categories, while the African-American or black share of the U.S. population has remained roughly constant. Whether they celebrate or dread it, progressive champions of the “rainbow coalition” and white conservative nativists at least agree on one fact: In the future, whites in the U.S. will be a minority.
Continue Reading CloseMichael Lind’s new book, "Land of Promise: An Economic History of the United States", will be published in April and can be pre-ordered at Amazon.com. More Michael Lind.
“The Intouchables”: Racial comedy, French style
"The Intouchables" is the biggest foreign-language film of all time. Some critics say it's also racist
A still from "The Intouchables" Here’s a startling news item: “The Intouchables,” a lively if largely predictable Parisian comedy about a wealthy quadriplegic and his ne’er-do-well immigrant caretaker, has become the biggest international success in the history of French cinema. Indeed, according to some sources — and these things are notoriously difficult to measure on a global and historical scale — “The Intouchables” is now the biggest non-Anglophone film of all time, with a worldwide gross approaching $300 million.
Continue Reading CloseCan you identify?
Science shows that the only way around some readers' prejudices is to trick them
(Credit: Shutterstock/Salon) The news of recent research documenting how readers identify with the main characters in stories has mostly been taken as confirmation of the value of literary role models. Lisa Libby, an assistant professor at Ohio State University and co-author of a study published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, explained that subjects who read a short story in which the protagonist overcomes obstacles in order to vote were more likely to vote themselves several days later.
The suggestibility of readers isn’t news. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s novel of a sensitive young man destroyed by unrequited love, “The Sorrows of Young Werther,” inspired a rash of suicides by would-be Werthers in the late 1700s. Jack Kerouac has launched a thousand road trips. Still, this is part of science’s job: Running empirical tests on common knowledge — if for no other reason than because common knowledge (and common sense) is often wrong.
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Laura Miller is a senior writer for Salon. She is the author of "The Magician's Book: A Skeptic's Adventures in Narnia" and has a Web site, magiciansbook.com. More Laura Miller.
Whitewashing, a history
From "Tiffany's" to "Khan," we look at Hollywood's illustrious tradition of casting white actors in non-white roles SLIDE SHOW
All I have to say is that whitewashing has been going on since as long as Hollywood has existed — it’s a tradition — and rather than non-white people complaining about it, they should embrace it. It will make going to the movies so much easier and more fun. But there are just a few things you need to understand.
First, stop watching movies as ethnic people and start watching them as white people. There’s nothing that white people like more than seeing other white people in movies and on television. When you go to the movies with your ethnic “judgment” eyes, you miss my point. Watch as a white person, and suddenly your outrage turns to understanding and laughter.
Continue Reading CloseAasif Mandvi is an actor and writer who appears as a correspondent on "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart." He also co wrote and stars in the film "Today's Special" and will be appearing this summer in the films "Premium Rush" and "Ruby Sparks." More Aasif Mandvi.
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