Wilmore's characterization points to a more nuanced picture of communities constituted by this incident than the easy black-white binary that whiteness so loves to indulge. The binary entices as follows: most white people will side with the cop, most black people will side with the professor. So, find a white person who sides with the professor and you can accuse said person of race treachery or elitism or liberalism. Find a black person who sides with the cop and you can accuse said person of race treachery or conformism. Conversely, the binary also allows supporters of 'either' side to claim adherents based on race or color.
In contrast, Wilmore's satirism makes the point that 'blackness' evades definition by 'whiteness'. To succumb to a defense of the professor on the grounds of oppression or black identity is to risk an essentialism that cuts both ways, while simultaneously reinforcing whiteness through a slippage of focus away from white privilege and white consciousness. Wilmore is right on the professor's (and Obama's) tenuous identifications with the oppression of black people. They are both beneficiaries of negotiating the same white privileges that enable them to perform and succeed in a white culture. Obama could not risk performing any blackness that threatened whiteness during his candidacy, and so too with Gates. Take Gates' response to the incident -- he is going to produce a documentary. Who is going to watch the documentary? White people? Perhaps, but not the white people who are most entrenched in white consciousness, so it is an option that does not threaten whiteness. Meanwhile, whiteness can still coalesce around a defense of the white police officer as someone just doing his job in the face of "illegitimate" ruptures of New England whiteness.
Sadly, the same binary is going to let white people off the hook -- they can now point to Gates' own privilege, and Obama's dances of identity, as a symbol of moving beyond racial divisions. Wilmore provides fodder for such dismissal by saying, in a satirical tone that will be missed and misquoted by many, "does this man look oppressed?" in showing what will soon become an iconic picture of Gates riding his tricycle. The satirism here is too subtle, and it will be quickly subsumed by whiteness: the professor's condition and situation is NOT representative of the struggles of many who are affected by the oppresive blindness of whiteness, at least not so in the ways that whiteness expects such oppression to be performed. Whiteness legitimates particular avenues for oppression to be voiced -- lectures, documentaries, sermons in specific spaces -- so long as they do not violate the norms of regional racisms -- black man cannot gesticulate agitatedly in a "public" white space in New England, and whiteness simultaneously sets up the appropriate conditions and expectations for violent counter-performances. The same dynamics that made Obama have to struggle with making sure he did not deny the expectations of the 'black community', itself a monolithic identity constructed by whiteness, resurface in the Gates incident in making Gates' performances easily consumable by whiteness but not so for those who want to challenge white norms.
For example, Wilmore's question should raise the subsequent question: "so what DOES an oppressed black man look like?" I think THAT question will lead to a lot more revealing discussion of whiteness that fractures easy binaries.
Hari, I’m surprised you didn’t comment more on Wilmore’s performance itself, which was hardly surprising considering the provocative reputation of his stage. Exaggerated satire aside, I think he also raises some important questions relevant to dialogues about race. What counts as “passing” now-a-days when even in everyday conversations the socially-constructed concept of race is often complicated beyond physical appearance? When does race become relevant in institutional contexts, such as police work and media coverage, and who has the power to make it relevant? For whose benefit does race become relevant? Who has the choice, opportunity, and ability to critically consider race as it enters our everyday mediascapes and who connects on a more immediate level to images, information, opinions presented in the media? How do mechanisms of white (I do think you can add – male, middle-class, heterosexual, able-bodied, etc.) privilege sustain the control of such choices?
Why didn’t Larry Wilmore comment on status similarities he shares with Gates Jr. and Obama? Did he have to? His own position of privilege is assumed and performed in his commentary. And I have to agree, the commentary gives a more nuanced experience of race than a black-white binary. Hari asks who would watch a documentary about the incident… equally as relevant, who is the audience of the Daily Show? We cannot consider Wilmore’s performance separate from consideration of this audience.
But I want to come back to some thought Wilmore’s commentary reminded me of. As the media coverage of the incident – from the arrest to the “beer summit” – progressed, a racial and archetypal binary was created by increasingly portraying Gates Jr. as the victimized black fighter for justice and Crowley as the ignorant (which half-vilified him, half-excused him), too diligent, but not ill-intending, white cop. What was missing to a large degree, in my opinion, is a teasing out of Gates Jr.’s co-creative role in the incident & what significance might such a role play in conversations about race in the U.S. What would have happened if he had gone and talked with Crowley? Would we have heard of the incident? What if he were not Gates Jr., but a poor, uneducated, innocent black man in front of his own door? Would he have raised his voice? Would he have run? Would he have responded to the cop’s request? If that man were arrested, would we have heard it on the news? There are plenty of hypothetical questions that may lead us to think about the incident as co-constructed and consider race in such a framework instead of focusing exclusively on the individuals involved. Further, we must not forget that for us, the consumers of news, the incident was/is largely media-constructed. Where is the consideration of that? (Wait, I’m sure journal reviewers will soon receive plenty of analyses of media coverage of the incident… but why is such consideration not in the more open public forums?)
I appreciated Wilmore’s commentary because I do think it did question Gates Jr.’s role, as sarcastically and (intentionally) provocatively as this might have been done. I do not think, however, that his words managed to successfully take away the focus from the individual and move it to larger institutional/systemic problems associated with racism and white privilege. His commentary would have been a perfect place to reflect on the MEDIA’S TREATMENT of the incident and of the individuals involved – who, after all, manifactured and publicized Gates Jr.’s image as the “oppressed” black man in the situation? Who buys that image and who criticizes it? Who gains from publicizing such an image? At the end, while Wilmore’s commentary may have provided a “nuanced image of the communities constituted by this incident” (to quote Hari:)) and clearly raised points of intersectionality when it comes to privilege, I do not believe he provided much nuance to the way racism and race privilege are often (and problematically so) looked upon and treated in the US – as individual issues fueled by unexamined assumptions…
On a humorous note (or my attempt at it) & to pick up where Hari left off, here are two images ech of which also involve a man and his “tricycle.” Is one more oppressed than the other? More oppressed than Gates Jr.? What experiences (and hopes!) guide our assumptions and responses?
Wilmore's characterization points to a more nuanced picture of communities constituted by this incident than the easy black-white binary that whiteness so loves to indulge. The binary entices as follows: most white people will side with the cop, most black people will side with the professor. So, find a white person who sides with the professor and you can accuse said person of race treachery or elitism or liberalism. Find a black person who sides with the cop and you can accuse said person of race treachery or conformism. Conversely, the binary also allows supporters of 'either' side to claim adherents based on race or color.
ReplyDeleteIn contrast, Wilmore's satirism makes the point that 'blackness' evades definition by 'whiteness'. To succumb to a defense of the professor on the grounds of oppression or black identity is to risk an essentialism that cuts both ways, while simultaneously reinforcing whiteness through a slippage of focus away from white privilege and white consciousness. Wilmore is right on the professor's (and Obama's) tenuous identifications with the oppression of black people. They are both beneficiaries of negotiating the same white privileges that enable them to perform and succeed in a white culture. Obama could not risk performing any blackness that threatened whiteness during his candidacy, and so too with Gates. Take Gates' response to the incident -- he is going to produce a documentary. Who is going to watch the documentary? White people? Perhaps, but not the white people who are most entrenched in white consciousness, so it is an option that does not threaten whiteness. Meanwhile, whiteness can still coalesce around a defense of the white police officer as someone just doing his job in the face of "illegitimate" ruptures of New England whiteness.
Sadly, the same binary is going to let white people off the hook -- they can now point to Gates' own privilege, and Obama's dances of identity, as a symbol of moving beyond racial divisions. Wilmore provides fodder for such dismissal by saying, in a satirical tone that will be missed and misquoted by many, "does this man look oppressed?" in showing what will soon become an iconic picture of Gates riding his tricycle. The satirism here is too subtle, and it will be quickly subsumed by whiteness: the professor's condition and situation is NOT representative of the struggles of many who are affected by the oppresive blindness of whiteness, at least not so in the ways that whiteness expects such oppression to be performed. Whiteness legitimates particular avenues for oppression to be voiced -- lectures, documentaries, sermons in specific spaces -- so long as they do not violate the norms of regional racisms -- black man cannot gesticulate agitatedly in a "public" white space in New England, and whiteness simultaneously sets up the appropriate conditions and expectations for violent counter-performances. The same dynamics that made Obama have to struggle with making sure he did not deny the expectations of the 'black community', itself a monolithic identity constructed by whiteness, resurface in the Gates incident in making Gates' performances easily consumable by whiteness but not so for those who want to challenge white norms.
For example, Wilmore's question should raise the subsequent question: "so what DOES an oppressed black man look like?" I think THAT question will lead to a lot more revealing discussion of whiteness that fractures easy binaries.
Hari, I’m surprised you didn’t comment more on Wilmore’s performance itself, which was hardly surprising considering the provocative reputation of his stage. Exaggerated satire aside, I think he also raises some important questions relevant to dialogues about race. What counts as “passing” now-a-days when even in everyday conversations the socially-constructed concept of race is often complicated beyond physical appearance? When does race become relevant in institutional contexts, such as police work and media coverage, and who has the power to make it relevant? For whose benefit does race become relevant? Who has the choice, opportunity, and ability to critically consider race as it enters our everyday mediascapes and who connects on a more immediate level to images, information, opinions presented in the media? How do mechanisms of white (I do think you can add – male, middle-class, heterosexual, able-bodied, etc.) privilege sustain the control of such choices?
ReplyDeleteWhy didn’t Larry Wilmore comment on status similarities he shares with Gates Jr. and Obama? Did he have to? His own position of privilege is assumed and performed in his commentary. And I have to agree, the commentary gives a more nuanced experience of race than a black-white binary. Hari asks who would watch a documentary about the incident… equally as relevant, who is the audience of the Daily Show? We cannot consider Wilmore’s performance separate from consideration of this audience.
But I want to come back to some thought Wilmore’s commentary reminded me of. As the media coverage of the incident – from the arrest to the “beer summit” – progressed, a racial and archetypal binary was created by increasingly portraying Gates Jr. as the victimized black fighter for justice and Crowley as the ignorant (which half-vilified him, half-excused him), too diligent, but not ill-intending, white cop. What was missing to a large degree, in my opinion, is a teasing out of Gates Jr.’s co-creative role in the incident & what significance might such a role play in conversations about race in the U.S. What would have happened if he had gone and talked with Crowley? Would we have heard of the incident? What if he were not Gates Jr., but a poor, uneducated, innocent black man in front of his own door? Would he have raised his voice? Would he have run? Would he have responded to the cop’s request? If that man were arrested, would we have heard it on the news? There are plenty of hypothetical questions that may lead us to think about the incident as co-constructed and consider race in such a framework instead of focusing exclusively on the individuals involved. Further, we must not forget that for us, the consumers of news, the incident was/is largely media-constructed. Where is the consideration of that? (Wait, I’m sure journal reviewers will soon receive plenty of analyses of media coverage of the incident… but why is such consideration not in the more open public forums?)
I appreciated Wilmore’s commentary because I do think it did question Gates Jr.’s role, as sarcastically and (intentionally) provocatively as this might have been done. I do not think, however, that his words managed to successfully take away the focus from the individual and move it to larger institutional/systemic problems associated with racism and white privilege. His commentary would have been a perfect place to reflect on the MEDIA’S TREATMENT of the incident and of the individuals involved – who, after all, manifactured and publicized Gates Jr.’s image as the “oppressed” black man in the situation? Who buys that image and who criticizes it? Who gains from publicizing such an image? At the end, while Wilmore’s commentary may have provided a “nuanced image of the communities constituted by this incident” (to quote Hari:)) and clearly raised points of intersectionality when it comes to privilege, I do not believe he provided much nuance to the way racism and race privilege are often (and problematically so) looked upon and treated in the US – as individual issues fueled by unexamined assumptions…
On a humorous note (or my attempt at it) & to pick up where Hari left off, here are two images ech of which also involve a man and his “tricycle.” Is one more oppressed than the other? More oppressed than Gates Jr.? What experiences (and hopes!) guide our assumptions and responses?
ReplyDeletehttp://cdn.cloudfiles.mosso.com/c34072/fa953dea-d2c1-4e93-a907-4674654b089c.jpg
http://www.bicyclerentalcentralpark.com/images/Pedicab1.jpg