An Undigested Bit of Beef

So I promised I’d write about my conversation with the British computer guru, the one who wanted to know why I wasn’t like the “typical” African American. In case you don’t feel like reading all of this posting, let me summarize:

In 2007, an American of African descent actually has a credible chance to win the nomination for the most powerful job on earth…..and he’s being backed by the most powerful woman on earth, who just happens to be African American……and yet many people around the world still think the “typical” African American is some hip-hop hustler or ‘hoe.

So when my new chum Peter asked me that question last week, while we were sitting at a Chinese restaurant in Kampala, I had to pause and take a deep breath before responding. I actually have two fairly standard responses to that question (and if I had a dollar for every time I was asked it, I could move next door to Oprah).

The first one I call my “Teachable Moment” response. I sometimes have to use it when I’m with my friends of European descent, or when I’m interacting with folks of European descent who I believe are sincere about the query. After 45 years in racially psychotic America, I know the difference between honest curiosity about race matters and shallow stupidity.

That’s why I keep the “Teachable Moment” response handy at all times. After all, many white people can go through most of their lives without ever truly conversing with a person of African descent. Look at Montana. Or Iceland. Or the Upper East Side of Manhattan. This means those white people rely on stereotypical images of what African Americans are like. Sadly, most of those images are beamed through a TV screen into their homes, and what they see ain’t pretty.

They’re seeing gold-toothed, blinged out, thug-life, booty-shaking, titty bouncin' black people. Sure, every now and then they’ll see a movie with Samuel L. Jackson in it, and most of the time he even gets to stay alive until the very end…and he doesn’t use a single word of broken slang!!!!! But the majority of what many white people around the world "learn" about African Americans comes from music videos.

Now, I don’t even have the energy to launch a debate about censorship, and whether rap and hip hop artists have a responsibility to clean up their acts. But after Peter asked his question, I inherently knew it was a teachable moment. So I started off with a couple of questions of my own.

“What do you mean by "typical?" Can you explain what you think the "typical" African American is like?”

Thus began a good 30 minutes of parsing out race matters. Let me break it down for you like I broke it down to Peter….he thinks I’m NOT “typical” because I’m well versed, intellectual, articulate, witty, poised, and don’t regularly flash the crack of my ass in public. I don’t have more horsehair attached to my head than the average Clydesdale, or long fake nails and doorknocker-sized fake gold earrings. I don’t even have a baby-daddy or a welfare debit card.

As a Brit living in Uganda, Peter doesn’t spend a lot of time in the U.S. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of hoochies in Kampala that could out-hoochie the hoochiest African American woman, but the racial dynamics in Uganda are different. Here, everything centers not so much around race but around socio-economic status. For a white male like Peter, living in an environment where the overwhelming majority of people are black, and desperately poor, you can kind of slip into a generic state of consciousness about racial identity. African males are either powerful heads of state, brutish military leaders or servile work-horses. African women are either crusading superwomen like President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf of Liberia, or Nobel Peace Prize Winner Wangari Maathai, or they're glittery ‘hoes, or they're beseeching. pitiful creatures mired in desperate squalor, abuse and oppression…that is, when they aren’t popping out babies like Pez.

See how easy that is??? Using that thought process, you don’t have to consider that maybe, just MAYBE, an African American woman could be well-versed, articulate, intellectual, witty, confident, AND disinclined to flash the crack of her ass in public. And see, the amazing thing is, THERE ARE A LOT OF BLACK WOMEN IN AMERICA JUST LIKE ME!!!! Stone Soul Sistuhs who can grab the reins in the boardroom but still keep it real at their cousin Pookie’s backyard barbecue.

I truly believe that by the end of our discussion last week, Peter went away with an expanded consciousness about the "typical" African American. Still, the weirdest thing about this whole scenario is that Peter is married to an African woman from Kenya. Tasha is funny, smart, articulate. intellectual, well-versed…..kinda like me, huh? And yet connecting those same qualities to a black American woman creates a stumbling block for Peter.

Sigh. My work as arbiter of racial understanding will never be done, I fear. The cross I must bear is like my own spectral valet, my personal “undigested bit of beef, or perhaps a spot of mustard,” as our beloved Yuletide codger Ebenezer Scrooge would put it. But look, it’s a better way to deal with life than when I use my second standard response for why I’m not like the "typical" African American. And it goes a little something like this:

“Are you really that stupid, or do you just look that way?"

Just kidding. I’d never say that to anyone…..unless my Xanax prescription had expired.

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