A question of race

When I think about racist attitudes, I like to remember how my grandmother handled racism.

She spent most of her life in a working-class, all-white neighborhood. As she became older, though, the family became more concerned about the growing crime rate where she lived and her daughters finally convinced her to move ten or fifteen miles across town to be closer to them. She was reluctant to move because the area where her daughters lived was integrated.

But she finally agreed. She found a nice little house, and the family got together to help her move in. More importantly, after the actually met some black people she completely changed her ideas about race. She was in her seventies, but not too old to learn something new about people. I've always been impressed by her change in attitude.

That was in the 1970s. Everything was changing. Some of us thought that we could bring racism to an end.

But now it's stronger than ever. I just read about the very unfortunate comment made by a radio talk show host. I won't repeat the comment. It was reprehensible. And very, very racist.

Why does this country have such a problem with race? It is not a universal problem. It is an American problem. And it's getting worse.

In the Qur'an, Allah said, "We have created you nations and tribes so that you may know each other, not that you may despise each other. The best of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous."

It's really is that simple. We are different. But the differences are not meant to overwhelm us. How boring would that be, anyway, if we were all alike?

And the best of any of us is he or she who is sincerely righteous.

Terrorism

Over the last few days I've seen more TV news reports about the threat of terrorism. Dark shadowy figures calling for the death of all Americans. Threats of violence and annihilation.

Meanwhile, terrorism seizes this nation on a daily basis. Child abuse. Spousal abuse. Drug abuse. Drive-by shootings. Workplace shootings. Road rage. Rape. Murder. Mayhem.

If I believed the official account, which I don't, then I would say that one terrorist attack committed by nineteen Arab men, four years ago, killed about three thousand people.

How many people have been victims of crime over the last four years? I don't have the statistics, but I would guess that it is much more than three thousand. In my city alone, the homicides for this year are nearing 100.

So who are the terrorists? Brown-skinned men who speak with accents? Or the quiet next-door neighbor who suddenly erupts and turns a gun on his family, his co-workers, himself. Women who wear scarves and pray five times a day? Or teenage girls who will do anything to support an addiction? Fathers and mothers who fast during the month of Ramadan? Or parents who beat and starve their children?

This country has many problems. International terrorism is the least of them.

Pride

Like many Americans, I have been anxiously watching the progress of Hurricane Rita and praying for those who live in the path of the storm.

The hurricane is never far from my mind. I thought of it when I read the following verse in the Qur'an tonight:

"Before you We sent Messengers to many nations, and We afflicted the nations with suffering and adversity, that they might learn humility." (6.42)

I don't intend to claim, as some have, that the hurricanes are punishment. This stance raises all sorts of ethical questions (Why would a loving God bring punishment against the poor?) which are far beyond my ability to address.

But I do look at the hurricanes as a reminder. A reminder to be humble.

The United States emerged from World War II as the undisputed leader of the world. By the time I was born, in the 50s, that standing had created a tremendous sense of pride. America was the first in everything, the best in everything, and Americans were the most fortunate people in the history of mankind. That was the message, anyway.

At times, there have been things to be proud of. A strong educational system. A good standard of living. Safety and security. There have also been things to be ashamed of. Laws defining people of color as second-class citizens. Enduring poverty. A war against Asians in the jungles and villages of their own country.

America is not the messiah of the world. It is not the only great power to ever have existed. But that was the message. And pride soon led to hubris.

It was hubris that sent American soldiers to conquer and dominate the people of Iraq. It is hubris every time the so-called president stresses the need to deliver democracy and Christianity to those poor brown-skinned people in other parts of the world. Sometimes at the point of a gun. In earlier days it was called the White Man's Burden.

Now America is being reminded of our weaknesses. We are not supermen. We are not gods. We are no better or worse than others who have lived before us, or those who share the planet with us now. We are humans. And we must remember the One Who created us.

It is not Mother Nature. It is the One God.

If we remember Him, and remember that we are accountable to Him, then I think we may have a way out of all this mess. But if we continue in our hubris, deeming ourselves as the creators and determiners of fate, then I think that this is only the beginning.

"A word to the wise is sufficient." Let's be wise, and be humble.

Through the Looking Glass

Often during the last four years I have been reminded of the ancient Chinese curse, "May you live in interesting times."

I haven't posted for the last week or so because my life has been far too interesting. Between the fast pace of current events and my own daily struggle to teach middle schoolers, I have been far too befuddled to be able to put my thoughts together into a cohesive format.

But what got me today was something small. A mere footnote to the real drama of the world.

NASA is temporarily shut down because of the evacuation. NASA, the people who only last week were talking about missions to the moon and Mars. They can conquer space, but they can't continue operations on our own planet when unusual forces strike.

That's not all. While NASA is shut down, Russia will be running the international space station.

Russia?

I grew up during the Cold War. Arms race. Space race. Evil commies. Imminent nuclear attack.

Thirty years ago, who could have imagined that the U.S. would have to depend on Russia? For the continuation of the space program, of all things.

Like many others, I got tired of the Cold War. I didn't like always being on edge, waiting for the next shoe to drop. I think that's why we are all a little tired of hearing about the War on Terror. One on-going conflict per lifetime, please.

But the announcement from NASA has given me hope. Today's enemies, tomorrow's allies.

Who will the U.S. turn to thirty years from now? Iran?

The Other America

In 1970, when I was in ninth grade, an enlightened teacher introduced me to a ground-breaking book. The Other America, written by Michael Harrington in the early 1960s, shocked a nation with an image of poverty amid affluence and prompted the Kennedy-Johnson War on Poverty. I know I was shocked when I first read Harrington's book. I lived in a middle-class suburb, and had never realized the extent of povery in this land.

In the 1970s, everything was changing. The old order would be overthrown. Poverty and racism would become distant memories. Our leaders would work to end air and water pollution, and no president would ever again commit U.S. troops to an unjust war.

That's what we thought. We were so young and naive.

The nation has been shocked in the last two weeks to discover the extent of poverty in New Orleans. New Orleans meant Mardi Gras and the French Quarter. Fun and more fun. No one outside of New Orleans saw the other side of the city. The poor side.

A common reaction for middle-class Americans is to blame the poor. They just need to work harder. If they weren't so picky about what jobs they were willing to take, they could pull themselves up by their bootstraps.

But most of America's poor are working poor. The wages paid by corporate America are not enough to support a family. This is the reality. When my 21-year old son was working as a forklift operator for one of those warehouse clubs, he told me about the other men who worked there. Men who had wives and children to support. I know my son's paycheck would not have been enough to take care of a family. Fortunately, he was only working to get money for college. Most workers are not that fortunate.

There is an Other America. We can continue to ignore the facts, or we can get to work helping our fellow citizens.

Isn't that more patriotic than blowing things up?

Hard Times

I could talk about my experience of getting back into the classroom after a three-year absence. Trying to learn the routine, memorize student's names and faces, etc. But I won't.

Life has been so much easier for me this week, because every time I began to feel even a little tired or stressed, I remembered the people of the Gulf coast.

No homes. Missing friends and family members. Difficult living conditions. Lack of food and water. Death.

I think I can manage my little daily challenges.

Remember to give generously to the survivors of Hurricane Katrina. Money. Food. Shelter. Prayers.

May Allah help them all.