Farewell to The Kitchen Table

Dearest Readers of The Kitchen Table,

I am officially retiring my place here at TKT.

Yolanda and I launched this blog nearly one year ago. In that time we developed a wonderful group of regular readers. You came to our table and shared in an amazing year of American politics, culture, and life. I am so grateful that you indulged me, applauded me, criticized me, and more than anything else I am grateful that you read me.

The Kitchen Table was a vitally important outlet for me and for my ideas during the past year.

As you know, I have been on vacation from daily TKT blogging for just over a month. Part of the reason I took a break from my writing here at TKT was to have some space to reassess how I am currently using my personal and professional efforts and energy. After a great deal of soul searching and several conversations with my good friend Yolanda, I have decided to retire my spot as co-author of this blog.

There are many reasons for this decision, but I don't want to subject you to a Sarah Palin-like ramble. Instead I will simply say goodbye.

I am not completely leaving the work of public, political writing.

You can still read me regularly on TheNation.com on the blog The Notion.

I regularly contribute to Politico.com in The Arena.

And I write occasionally at both TheGrio.com and CNN.com

None of these forum have the same special spirit of The Kitchen Table. I will miss hosting you here at this table, but I hope to that we can continue our conversations in these other locations.

Melissa

Educational Keys to Success

Melissa,

Before I take a summer break from writing, I wanted to share some thoughts and ask some questions about the "keys to success" in education. As college professors, we are fortunate that the vast majority of students in our classrooms are well-prepared to face the rigors of higher education. Our students come from all walks of life, and while some are people of privilege, many of them have faced tremendous obstacles to graduate from high school and attend college. I am wondering why, despite some of the toughest circumstances, some students succeed despite the odds against them. It is a subject taken up by a recent op-ed piece in the New York Times.

In our blog, we have written extensively about the circumstances that many children of color face in their communities. High infant mortality rates; environmental racism that leads to higher rates of asthma; a crumbling urban infrastructure; unequal school facilities and resources; and lack of access to good nutrition are just a few of the problems that we have highlighted on this blog. We could include on this "hit list," indifferent and hostile teachers - like the one Malcolm X talked about in his autobiography who could not conceive that Malcolm was capable of being a lawyer. But despite these circumstances, and many more, some children will meet these obstacles and overcome them. How? What are some of those keys that make the difference in educational sucess?

Can one outstanding teacher, in a sea of indifferent teachers, who offers words of encouragement and who sees a special quality in an individual student be the catalyst for success? Can a summer program that provides a few weeks of gainful employment and a sense of purpose be a catalyst for success? Can early exposure to a powerful book, with a story that resonates with the reader's own experience, be that catalyst for success?

I am thinking about this as I prepare to attend a recognition ceremony tonight for the 25th anniversary of the Oliver Scholars Program. This program selects 7th grade African American and Latino/a students, offers them support and guidance as they apply to some of the most selective independent schools in the country, and continues to support them through the college admissions process. Many moons ago, as a 12 year old, I was chosen to become an Oliver Scholar and that program would change my life in ways that I could not imagine at that young age. At a moment in my life, in which life circumstances could have led me down a radically different path, it was the Oliver Program that encouraged me, challenged me, and equipped me with tools I still use today. For some of my friends, it was programs like A Better Chance or Prep for Prep. These programs have produced doctors and lawyers, teachers and professors, poets and dancers. Maybe many of these students who have succeeded in their chosen vocations without something like the Oliver Program; but I know without a doubt, given my personal circumstances, that this program made all the difference.

As the school year comes to a close, as we celebrate graduations, commencements, children moving to the next grade, and all the year-end educational achievements, I would love for all our readers to weigh in on whatever thing, either large or small, contributed positively to their educational experiences. Here is your space to thank those teachers, programs, writers, neighbors, and family members (or favorite bloggers), who taught you the power of education as a priceless gift. For me: my thanks to John Hoffman, the founder of the Oliver Scholars Program, and Albert G. Oliver, distinguished New York City public school educator and activist who devoted his life to the children of New York.

Yolanda

Obama, Gender & the Muslim World

Melissa,

I have been highly anticipating President Obama's speech to the Muslim world which he delivered from Cairo University today. Once again, I am reminded of the sheer pleasure involved in listening to an accomplished speaker tackle difficult issues. In the course of one speech, President Obama quoted from the Talmud, the Christian Bible, and the Koran. He mentioned Thomas Jefferson and John Adams; he discussed his own personal religious and familial background. He referenced Palestine and Israel, the Taliban and Iraq. It was a sweeping speech that covered a great deal of ground as he worked to both offer hope but maintain a realistic view on relations between the United States and the larger Muslim world.

I want to focus on President Obama's remarks about gender and the Muslim world, which I fear will not receive much attention. In the wake of the murder of Dr. George Tiller, I have been struggling with the various voices, and lack of voices, that are being heard in the debate over women's rights. President Obama devoted one of his talking points to a focus on women's equality. He applauded those Muslim countries that have elected women leaders; he emphasized the need for more educational opportunities for women and girls; and he stressed that micro-financing plays an important role in economic equality for women. In his discussion of gender, President Obama twice used the word "choice," in his reference to women who choose to pursue traditional roles (or, for instance, choose to cover their heads). He also mentioned that he did not think women "must make the same choices as men in order to be equal."

While I applaud our President for these strong words, I am wondering how much "choice" women in the Muslim world, and women everywhere, have. Half a million women a year die during pregnancy and in childbirth, largely from conditions that can be either treated or prevented. Restrictions, lack of knowledge, and unavailability of birth control lead to a situation in which women in developing countries bear, on average, 6 children. Cultural taboos and religious dogmatism force many women into early marriages and define women by their ability to reproduce. Women in poor countries, in most countries, are often confined to menial and manual labor, serving as the economic backbones for their families, as well as primary caregivers for children. Girls continue to be exploited sexually, from "white slavery" in Thailand to the rape of toddlers and schoolchildren as the "cure" for HIV in South Africa. Far too many women and girls, all over the world, face very little "choice" in the direction of their lives.

So, I am grateful for the attention President Obama paid to gender in his speech, but the issues he raised are not unique to the Muslim world nor can these issues be confined to a brief point in a long speech. And let us not suffer under the illusion that these issues only exist in the developing world. Many women in the United States do not have access to adequate health care; women routinely experience discrimination in the workplace and in the schoolroom. States that only fund "abstinence only education" deny women and girls information about their sexual health and reproductive rights. The face of poverty in the United States is usually a woman with small children, working a minimum wage job.

The condition of women and girls fundamentally speaks to the progress of any nation. Improvements in the lives of women in the Muslim world will lead the way to improvements in all areas, particularly economically and politically. We need greater dialogue about the role of women and the importance of gender equality on the road to peace. Let this conversation be a full and rich one that stands alone, not just one talking point.

"Without progress in the situation of women, there can be no true social development. Human rights are not worthy of the name if they exclude the female half of humanity. The struggle for women's equality is part of the struggle for a better world for all human beings, and all societies." Boutros Boutros-Gali (former Secretary-General of the United Nations)

Yolanda

(Ir)Reconcilable Differences

Melissa,

I spent this past weekend celebrating my college reunion and on Saturday night, I found myself walking alongside an older gentlemen who was on campus to celebrate his 50th reunion; he had graduated from college in 1959! When he was on campus, there were no female students, no African American students, and certainly no black women faculty members. My very presence on this campus was a visual example of how much things had changed in 50 years. I inwardly wondered how this gentlemen would respond to me and to the vast differences that separated our experiences at our alma mater. But instead of a focus on "difference," he engaged me in a wonderful conversation about the many things we shared, despite the dissimilarities of years, gender, race, and occupation. I can say, with no irony, that this 20 minute conversation was the highlight of my entire weekend.

I have been thinking about irreconcilable or reconcilable differences since I heard the news of the murder of Dr. George Tiller, the Kansas physician, abortion provider, and reproductive rights activist who was shot in the foyer of his church on Sunday, while he served as an usher and while his wife sang in the choir. I would imagine that various members of this church may have felt very differently from Dr. Tiller over his stance on reproductive rights, but this community choose to worship together despite their differences.

I have no doubt, as I discussed concerning Notre Dame, that there were vast differences of opinion in response to President Obama's commencement address and his straight-forward talk about reproductive rights. But much of the Notre Dame community listened respectfully, despite these differences. In response to the murder of Dr. Tiller, President Obama stated: “However profound our differences as Americans over difficult issues such as abortion, they cannot be resolved by heinous acts of violence.”

So Melissa, it is Monday morning and I am wondering whether we can have civilized conversations about tough issues like abortion or gun control or reparations in spite of our profound differences. It seems as if each opposing camp wants to shout down the other camp, silence them, or kill them. We want to rely on sound bytes and pithy expressions to castigate those with whom we don't agree, but the truth of the matter is that these conversations are complex, weighty, and difficult. They require that we listen and thoughtfully engage in another point of view. Some conversations require that we put ourselves into the position of the most vulnerable and most desperate, and imagine something from their vantage point. Some conversations require that we confront our own prejudices, stereotypes, fears, and beliefs. In other words, tackling the greatest moral issues of our day means confronting our differences.

Heinous acts of violence only further entrench people into their positions and does nothing to positively serve one's cause. The irony and hypocrisy of killing Dr. Tiller in a church sanctuary disturbs me on so many levels. Was George Tiller's life not precious in God's sight? I do not believe that the toughest moral questions of the day will not be solved with gunfire, nor will they be solved by knocking one sacred book or another over someone's head. Browbeating, threatening, forcible coercion, and intimidation rarely works in bringing about consistent change. There may be differences between all of us that are fundamentally irreconcilable. But in those cases, can there at least be respect?

Yolanda

Criminal Shadows

Melissa,

I hope you are enjoying your time away. I promise to take a much needed break at some point, but there is so much happening and I wanted to share some thoughts at the table.

I have gotten news about the premature deaths of two black men I know and admire; one attended my alma mater (Adam Henry '91) and the other was my former colleague who began his academic career with me in the same department (Aime Ellis). Both of these men were wonderful, warm, funny, and well-educated; excelling in their careers and in their relationships with families and friends. They will both be missed.

The lives of these two real black men stand in direct contrast to the fictional characters who apparently thrive on carjacking innocent victims. Reminiscent of the Susan Smith tragedy, another woman accused two black men of carjacking, abducting her and her daughter, and stuffing the two of them into the trunk of a Cadillac. This report triggered major news coverage as well as an Amber alert in our area. It turns out that the mother had stolen money and fled to Disney.

I want to talk about our national psyche, the means by which we, as a nation, criminalize black men from birth. It is no accident that either consciously or subconsciously, this woman from Pennsylvania choose two fictitious black male abductors as did her Southern counterpart, Susan Smith. One part of these stories is the anxiety and surveillance these individual accusations trigger; the other part of the story forces us to face our assumptions, stereotypes, and racist characterizations of blackness, and particularly of black manhood.

I am weary of watching our brothers, fathers, sons, husbands, friends being demonized as criminals or potential criminals. How much of our current criminal system represents a self-fulfilling prophecy? In other words, because we expect black men to become criminals, we treat young black boys as potential felons (through racial profiling and educational inequity), and then when some of them actually do commit crimes, we justify our own racist actions by saying: "I knew that they would be thugs all along."

Melissa, you and I both live in this same small town. As we walk along the main street, I cannot count how many times I have seen an almost life-sized mugshot of a black male face on the local paper, in a report about a crime that has taken place 10-15 miles from our own community. I have yet to see the full page mug-shot of a local white drunken college student who breaks into downtown property during his inebriated state, and that is a crime that occurs regularly in this college town. I have yet to see the full page mug-shot of the white restaurant owner who stole 1.4 million dollars from his investors...another case taking place in our town.

Those faces are "absent" from the criminal enterprise, an enterprise that we assume to be black/brown and male, and increasingly black/brown and female. Why is that? In light of a financial crisis in which shady mortgage lenders (of all races) have bilked people out of billions of dollars, and shady financial investors have straight-up stolen from people's pensions plans, why is the face of a criminal, the real or imagined thug who lurks in the shadows, always a face that looks like mine?

Yolanda

MHL on Summer Break!

Dear Kitchen Table,

I am taking a blogging hiatus for about a month. There will be no new posts from me here at The Kitchen Table until after July 1.   During my month off I am traveling, writing, and vacationing.  In July I will resume blogging here at The Kitchen Table. Have a great month! 

You can continue to catch me on Twitter @harrislacewell

Melissa 

Uncertainty

Melissa,

I love the summer reading list! I will have to add mine, if I can get it down to only a few books.

For the past few days, I have been in a whirlwind of graduation activities. I've been to luncheons, dinners, receptions, ceremonies, banquets, and everything else. Apparently, you need a lot of food to get through these events! I have met parents and grandparents, newborns and partners. I can see why politicians love commencements - there is a captive, happy, well-dressed audience who are emotionally vulnerable. I shed a few tears over some of my departing students.

I have heard some wonderfully inspiring words from colleagues and students as they reflected on this time of year, rich with so many possibilities. When I spoke at a student luncheon on Friday, my intention was to also offer some words of inspiration. But that didn't go exactly as I planned. Instead, I spoke about uncertainty. (Now I understand why I don't get invited to give more commencement talks...I should stick to happier topics!)

Beneath the beautiful dresses and freshly-cleaned suits lurked unsettled souls. Many people are still anxiously waiting to hear about jobs; some have already heard and the news wasn't good. Some are preparing to move back into their parents' house, a move they never thought they would make again. Some are just uncertain about what the future holds, whether the choices they have made are the right choices. Some are wondering if their hard work and sacrifices for a graduate degree have been in vain. So beneath the beautiful exteriors of freshly-scrubbed and newly-minted graduates, there was so much uncertainty that it was palpable to me. So I talked about it. And now I am writing about it.

I think that if there is anything good that can come out of a recession, it is to refocus our attention on those things that are truly important and valuable. I am reading lots of human interest stories of former investment bankers now teaching third grade math classes or honor students electing to major in education instead of business. But shouldn't some of our best and brightest want to pursue careers that impact our nation's future? Public service or education should not be alternate career choices, now that Wall Street is in shambles, but they have been and will always be necessary for the health of our country. Pursue these fields not because you can't get a higher paying job, but because you want to make a difference. Let the uncertainty of career paths available open up new possibilities for service.

I am reading stories about former executives who are now stay-at-home parents, negotiating the carpool lane and the soccer equipment. I pray that when, and if, they go back to their corporate lives, they will have gleaned something powerful about parenthood and the fact that most children just want more of their parents' time and love, and not all the materialistic crap we think they want. Perhaps it takes financial uncertainty to refocus our attention on lasting relationships with family and friends.

Uncertainty can be full of possibilities; it propels us to think more creatively, to dream different dreams, to focus on the tasks that most matter. Uncertainty doesn't have to be the fear of the unknown. Instead, it can be a vehicle for choosing a road or a path we never thought we would take. Or as Robert Frost says best:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Yolanda