The Dream

Hopefully, we are all fully cognizant of exactly what today is for us (well, for those of us in the United States, anyway). I mean, of course, that today is Martin Luther King, Jr., Day, and it is the day we observe both in honor of a great man and his high social and moral aspirations, as well as to mourn the sad fact that his life was brought to such an abrupt and unjust end. Of course, for those of us who were not alive to witness these events take place, the holiday has taken on a somewhat more symbolic nature, and has become a day for us to ponder the racial situation of the United States, the great strides that have been made since the Rev. King's time, and the amount of work left to be done.

Personally, I think that the racial climate in the United States is not all that it's often cracked up to be. America may be a land of opportunity, but it is not yet a land of milk and honey. Sadly, the existence of racism in this country is too often allowed to continue simply because of its anonymity and its covertness. That is to say that the few racists that are left in the United States (by comparison to what I consider the generally racist population of our entire past before the 1960s or so) today are allowed to persist in their ignorance and their racism largely because many people are not aware of it, or worse, because people refuse to acknowledge that there could be any racism left. Unfortunately, hatred appears to be in unlimited supply.

While I was fortunate to grow up in a nuclear family where race mattered as little as eye color (which was none, of course), I also grew up in an extended family where race was very important, and it was not uncommon for me to hear my grandparents and their brothers and sisters racial slurs that I knew, even as a child, could only be offensive. Thus, I have been shown both sides of the coin from a very young age, and I have been aware that there are people who are racists still living, and some of them are not senior citizens, as was shown in this local story of a synagogue defaced by a teenage girl. The problem persists.

On the other hand, I also routinely find myself fed up with the degree to which I believe the Rev. King's message was distorted. I don't see why the ideal of cultural diversity should be to divest each individual of his ethnic and cultural heritage in order to set everyone on equal, if equally bankrupt, ground. No, to me it is entirely important that my ancestors came from Ireland, and that fact connects me in a very profound way to a country I have never seen and to people I have never met. It helps me to identify myself, and I cannot imagine what I would be without it. I have seen that it is likewise with people whose ancestors came from Germany, Italy, Poland, Mexico, and many other places. I do, of course, understand that that is perhaps somewhat more difficult for most of the black people in America, whose ancestors were by no means immigrants, but I have seen a good number of them attempt to reconnect with the Africa from which, in one way or another and at one time or another, their ancestors came.

Still, there are those who seek a "racial blindness" from Americans, as if none of that were important. These are the people who say to me, "you're not Irish, you're American." True, I am an American, and that fact also carries a profound significance for me. Nevertheless, I cannot say that I am American by ethnicity. The only people in the United States who can accurately and honestly claim to be ethnically American are those whose ancestors lived on this continent before European explorers ever knew it was here, and I am not one of them. I am a citizen of the United States of America, naturally born within her borders, and that fact gives me a certain political and cultural identity, but it is not an ethnic or historical identity. That fact is plainly seen when I consider the great significance of the fact that, as I trace my family's history back further and further into time, I will always come to a point where my ancestors came to this country from somewhere else. That is, and, I think, should be, important.

This nonsense of racial sensitivity and political correctness has gone entirely too far, in my humble opinion, to the point where I could conceivably be called a bigot or a racist for identifying myself as Irish, and others as Italian or Polish, etc., based on their family's country of origin, historically speaking. As far as I'm concerned, it is not racism to acknowledge the ethnic diversity present in America, this land that claims to be a melting pot. Rather, it is only racism to actively disadvantage people, or wish to disadvantage people, based on their race and nothing more. Racism is refusing to hire someone because he's Jewish. Racism is not saying "shabbat shalom" to someone because you know he's Jewish. These are entirely different.

I like Italian and Indian food, Jewish wit and humor, Irish and black music, and on like that. Yes, there is such a thing as Jewish humor. Here is an example:



There is also such a thing as Italian food. Another example:



And, you know what, there is also such a thing as black music (Jazz, hip hop, etc.), and, yes, even black names. If Aidan is an Irish name, and Santiago is a Spanish name, and Mordechai is a Jewish name, and Guido is an Italian name, I don't see why we can't claim that Denzel or Roshanda are black names. These example of cultural and ethnic identity should not, I argue, be eschewed as potential sources of racial discrimination, but rather they should be embraced as elements of an ethnic heritage and identity that gives a person historical roots far deeper and more significant than this 233-year-old nation could possibly provide. Take it from kilt-wearing Patrick Kevin McLaughlin--ethnicity is a good thing.

So, that is my Martin Luther King, Jr., rant. If you have any thoughts about the matter, feel free to leave some comments. I realize that this is a touchy subject and a difficult issue, but it's one that will only get worse if we ignore it or pretend that it doesn't exist. So, may he rest in peace, and may his dream become reality.