I am invested in, and emotionally responsive, to the idea of black people doing for themselves.
Yes. So many of us are. Including me. You can scroll back through the archives and look at my response to Obama's Father's Day speech, to his speech to the NAACP, and his invocation of personal responsibility. For those of us of a particular quasi-nationalist persuasion, the idea hits a sweet spot and lives in a long tradition of "doing for self."
The difference between Obama, on the one hand, and Douglass, Garvey, Ida, and Martin, on the other, is that the latter always paired "do for self" with a solid critique of race in America. When Ida Wells was attacking the "manhood" of black men during the height of the Red Summers, she was just as aggressively inveighing against American racism. Douglass's final autobiography is filled with a moral critique of his own community. But it's obviously paired with a recognition of the history and nature of racism.
Obama is only practically capable of delivering on half of that formula -- and it's a half that's very popular in the larger country. The self-help nationalistic strain of black thought resonates with how Americans think about themselves. Consider this:
For all of Malcolm's invective, his most seductive notion was that of collective self-creation: the idea that black people could, through force of will, remake themselves. Toward the end of his book, Marable tells the story of Gerry Fulcher, a white police officer, who--almost against his will--fell under Malcolm's sway. Assigned to wiretap Malcolm's phone, Fulcher believed Malcolm to be "one of the bad guys," interested in killing cops and overthrowing the government. But his views changed. "What I heard was nothing like I expected," said Fulcher. "I remember saying to myself, 'Let's see, he's right about that ... He wants [blacks] to get jobs. He wants them to get education. He wants them to get into the system. What's wrong with that?'"
Fulcher is a white police officer who should be plotting against Malcolm--but "do for self" resonated with Fulcher. With that said, "do for self" -- divorced from a critique of racism--has the convenient side-effect of letting white people off the hook. This is the version of "do for self" that Obama delivers -- a palatable black nationalism, inoffensive to, and uncritical of, white people. Obama's a smart dude, with a serious knowledge of black history. I suspect he knew what he was doing when he went on his bamboozled riff. I suspect he knows exactly what he's doing now.
I am not unsympathetic to his dilemma. There's simply no way he can be president and be honest with the country about race. The one time he tried it, during Gates-gate, he paid for it.
On top of that, Obama's very presence in the White House has deep symbolic significance to many African-Americans. There's an element of the black Left that would have that symbolism dismissed, and argue that black people have somehow been duped. I think that's wrong. Living with racism is hard. Living with the belief that racism has not changed, and never will change, is even harder. Obama is radical evidence that the latter claim, no matter how much we feel it, is false. That means something.
Of course the result is that Obama gets a pass, on policy, from black people, that Hillary Clinton simply would never enjoy. If you're in the business of pressuring the Democratic Party to be more progressive, this is a source of frustration.
So where does that leave us? Is it wrong for the head of the American government to speak as black citizen out of convenience? What do we say to the crowds of black people in Beaumont, Texas, who cheer his rhetoric on? I think there's something to be learned there. And yet I also believe in applying pressure.
I watch that clip in Beaumont and laugh. I don't know what that says.
Meet the Bernie Sanders supporters who say they won’t switch allegiances, no matter what happens in the general election.
Loyal fans of Bernie Sanders have a difficult decision to make. If Hillary Clinton faces off against Donald Trump in the 2016 presidential election, legions of Sanders supporters will have to decide whether to switch allegiances or stand by Bernie until the bitter end.
At least some supporters of the Vermont senator insist they won’t vote for Clinton, no matter what. Many view the former secretary of state with her deep ties to the Democratic establishment as the polar opposite of Sanders and his rallying cry of political revolution. Throwing their weight behind her White House bid would feel like a betrayal of everything they believe.
These voters express unwavering dedication to Sanders on social media, deploying hashtags like NeverClinton and NeverHillary, and circulating petitions like www.wontvotehillary.com, which asks visitors to promise “under no circumstances will I vote for Hillary Clinton.” It’s garnered more than 56,500 signatures so far. Many feel alienated by the Democratic Party. They may want unity, but not if it means a stamp of approval for a political status quo they believe is fundamentally flawed and needs to be fixed.
There’s no escaping the pressure that U.S. inequality exerts on parents to make sure their kids succeed.
More than a half-century ago, Betty Friedan set out to call attention to “the problem that has no name,” by which she meant the dissatisfaction of millions of American housewives.
Today, many are suffering from another problem that has no name, and it’s manifested in the bleak financial situations of millions of middle-class—and even upper-middle-class—American households.
Poverty doesn’t describe the situation of middle-class Americans, who by definition earn decent incomes and live in relative material comfort. Yet they are in financial distress. For people earning between $40,000 and $100,000 (i.e. not the very poorest), 44 percent said they could not come up with $400 in an emergency (either with cash or with a credit card whose bill they could pay off within a month). Even more astonishing, 27 percent of those making more than $100,000 also could not. This is not poverty. So what is it?
Heidi Cruz got an elbow to the face—will Melania Trump get much more?
Ted Cruz stood on stage Tuesday evening and announced to the world that he would be suspending his campaign for the presidency of the United States. Just weeks earlier, the soon-to-be-former candidate had nearly convinced the Republican establishment that, contrary to both inclination and history, he might be its savior. His exit would effectively hand the nomination to a man the senator himself had called a “sniveling coward,” a “pathological liar,” “an arrogant buffoon,” and “Biff Tannen” (a Back to the Future reference that no doubt took some serious consideration).
In this particular moment of crisis and reconciliation, Heidi Cruz stood at her husband’s side, ready to meet his embrace as he turned from the lectern and (symbolically, at least) away from a party that had very nearly been his to lead. They embraced for eight seconds—Cruz’s face obscured from the cameras, an intimate moment between two partners.
Nearly half of Americans would have trouble finding $400 to pay for an emergency. I’m one of them.
Since 2013,the Federal Reserve Board has conducted a survey to “monitor the financial and economic status of American consumers.” Most of the data in the latest survey, frankly, are less than earth-shattering: 49 percent of part-time workers would prefer to work more hours at their current wage; 29 percent of Americans expect to earn a higher income in the coming year; 43 percent of homeowners who have owned their home for at least a year believe its value has increased. But the answer to one question was astonishing. The Fed asked respondents how they would pay for a $400 emergency. The answer: 47 percent of respondents said that either they would cover the expense by borrowing or selling something, or they would not be able to come up with the $400 at all. Four hundred dollars! Who knew?
David Clarke, the Trump-loving, pro-mass-incarceration, Fox News favorite, is challenging criminal-justice reform—and stereotypes.
Milwaukee Sheriff David A. Clarke Jr.’s podcast, The People’s Sheriff, begins with a slide-guitar and a boot-stomp beat before segueing into the rich baritone of the sheriff himself. Over the next 40 minutes, Clarke holds forth on the topics of the day: Planned Parenthood is “what I call ‘Planned Genocide.’” Public schools are so dangerous “there should be a body camera on every teacher.” Higher education has become “a racketeering ring.” The sheriff is also a big fan of presidential candidate Donald Trump: “He gets us. He understands us.”
Clarke, an African American law-enforcement leader who favors cowboy hats and often appears atop a horse, fights crime in Milwaukee, the U.S. city that has been called “the worst place” for African Americans to live. He has become a fixture of conservative media. Glenn Beck presents the sheriff’s podcast on his multimedia juggernaut, The Blaze, and he is a frequent guest on Fox News. Clarke is also popular on Twitter, where he recently tweeted to his 127,000 followers that the young activists of the Black Lives Matter movement—he calls it “Black Lies Matter”—will eventually “join forces with ISIS.” He made sure to note, “You heard it first here.”
It’s a paradox: Shouldn’t the most accomplished be well equipped to make choices that maximize life satisfaction?
There are three things, once one’s basic needs are satisfied, that academic literature points to as the ingredients for happiness: having meaningful social relationships, being good at whatever it is one spends one’s days doing, and having the freedom to make life decisions independently.
But research into happiness has also yielded something a little less obvious: Being better educated, richer, or more accomplished doesn’t do much to predict whether someone will be happy. In fact, it might mean someone is less likely to be satisfied with life.
That second finding is the puzzle that Raj Raghunathan, a professor of marketing at The University of Texas at Austin’s McCombs School of Business, tries to make sense of in his recent book, If You’re So Smart, Why Aren’t You Happy?Raghunathan’s writing does fall under the category of self-help (with all of the pep talks and progress worksheets that that entails), but his commitment to scientific research serves as ballast for the genre’s more glib tendencies.
With a fast reversal on the minimum wage, the de-facto Republican nominee shows why Hillary Clinton is attacking his character more than his policies.
It took Donald Trump less than a day as the presumptive Republican nominee to reverse himself on a major economic-policy issue.
Don’t pretend to be surprised.
In an interview Wednesday with CNN’s Wolf Blitzer, Trump said he was “looking” at a possible increase in the federal minimum wage, which has stood at $7.25 an hour for nearly seven years. “I’m open to doing something with it because I don’t like that,” Trump said. This from a man who said during a November GOP debate that wages were “too high” and that he was “sorry to say it, but we have to leave [the federal floor] where it is.”
Was Trump’s flip-flop the start of a carefully-planned and much-anticipated pivot to the general election? Is he suddenly trying to appeal to Democrats now that he has dispatched each of the small-government conservative ideologues who ran in the Republican primary? Or did he simply forget what his position was on the minimum wage?
With Donald Trump its presumptive nominee after his win in the Indiana primary, the GOP will never be the same.
NEW YORK—Where were you the night Donald Trump killed the Republican Party as we knew it? Trump was right where he belonged: in the gilt-draped skyscraper with his name on it, Trump Tower in Manhattan, basking in the glory of his final, definitive victory.
“I have to tell you, I’ve competed all my life,” Trump said, his golden face somber, his gravity-defying pouf of hair seeming to hover above his brow. “All my life I’ve been in different competitions—in sports, or in business, or now, for 10 months, in politics. I have met some of the most incredible competitors that I’ve ever competed against right here in the Republican Party.”
The combined might of the Republican Party’s best and brightest—16 of them at the outset—proved, in the end, helpless against Trump’s unorthodox, muscular appeal to the party’s voting base. With his sweeping, 16-point victory in Tuesday’s Indiana primary, and the surrender of his major remaining rival, Ted Cruz, Trump was pronounced the presumptive nominee by the chair of the Republican National Committee. The primary was over—but for the GOP, the reckoning was only beginning.
The U.S. president talks through his hardest decisions about America’s role in the world.
Friday, August 30, 2013, the day the feckless Barack Obama brought to a premature end America’s reign as the world’s sole indispensable superpower—or, alternatively, the day the sagacious Barack Obama peered into the Middle Eastern abyss and stepped back from the consuming void—began with a thundering speech given on Obama’s behalf by his secretary of state, John Kerry, in Washington, D.C. The subject of Kerry’s uncharacteristically Churchillian remarks, delivered in the Treaty Room at the State Department, was the gassing of civilians by the president of Syria, Bashar al-Assad.
Trump’s only viable road to the White House requires him to improve his standing within a group that has favored the GOP, but been cool to Trump.
It’s entirely possible that for all the talk about the gender gap, Donald Trump could prove more competitive among white women against Hillary Clinton than it appears today.
But Trump faces at least as much risk that white women could seal his doom in the general election match-up against Clinton that now appears certain.
How could both things be true? The answer is that the electorate’s changing composition makes it virtually impossible for Trump to prevail in November unless he not only wins most white women, but also carries that group by a convincing margin. Even a narrow lead for Trump over Clinton among white women would likely ensure his defeat.
The good news for Trump is that the Republican edge among white women has widened substantially since 2000, providing him a foundation on which to build. The bad news is he faces enormous, possibly unprecedented headwinds in defending that advantage. “There is something really basic, elemental, going on here with women reacting to [Trump],” said the Democratic pollster Stanley Greenberg, who has polled extensively for the Women’s Voices Women Vote Action Fund, a liberal voter mobilization group. “Every signal he’s sent that has built up his support with men and Republicans has had the opposite effect with women.”