Showing posts with label Harvard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harvard. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
I See You!
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Up there...
The media tells me some folks believe Barack Obama is ‘uppity’ because he’s a graduate of Ivy League schools: Columbia and Harvard Law. Due to those achievements, it’s said he just can’t seem to connect with some voters.
Really?
Let’s see, The First President Bush and the current Bush, who vacates the White House in January 2009, both attended Yale. Then President John F. Kennedy and little brother Bobby both attended Harvard. Then there’s Bill Clinton, our first supposed ‘Black President,’ attended Yale for his law degree, only after completion of studies at Oxford University as a Rhodes Scholar.
All that ivy sure blocks my view. Both Bushes are successful business men in their own right. JFK was Catholic, which scared some folks. His little brother Bobby, contributed to the Civil Rights Movement—which became a building block for Barack Obama’s position today. Then Bill Clinton was considered ‘inexperienced’—but he did have that Rhodes Scholar thing on his side. Was ‘uppity’ an adjective to describe any of these other Ivy League men? I doubt not. Just amazed the at the degree of scrutiny Barack Obama recieves for not looking like the ‘other’ guys.
I’ve been called uppity all her life. When it was uttered by people I knew—both Black (which includes family) and White-it hurt, I admit. Accusations of I did not sound or act Black enough—my goodness, what DOES that mean anyway? Or that I had too many White friends. Plus the closest I ever got to anything Ivy League was the purchase of a $1.98 ivy plant at Wal-mart.
Even in the 21st Century, a little stereotype goes a long way.
Come November 4, 2008, whether it’s an Obama win or loss, I will continue to bask in pride. My ancestors who built this country—literally-had families broken apart by being sold like livestock, yet treated lower than. My ancestors were denied any rights of any kind. For a time, slave logs did not list their names, just male, female or child. Because of what my ancestors endured then, there is success now.
Call it ‘uppity’ if you want. Call it a celebration for a moment in time that was and no longer is.
Really?
Let’s see, The First President Bush and the current Bush, who vacates the White House in January 2009, both attended Yale. Then President John F. Kennedy and little brother Bobby both attended Harvard. Then there’s Bill Clinton, our first supposed ‘Black President,’ attended Yale for his law degree, only after completion of studies at Oxford University as a Rhodes Scholar.
All that ivy sure blocks my view. Both Bushes are successful business men in their own right. JFK was Catholic, which scared some folks. His little brother Bobby, contributed to the Civil Rights Movement—which became a building block for Barack Obama’s position today. Then Bill Clinton was considered ‘inexperienced’—but he did have that Rhodes Scholar thing on his side. Was ‘uppity’ an adjective to describe any of these other Ivy League men? I doubt not. Just amazed the at the degree of scrutiny Barack Obama recieves for not looking like the ‘other’ guys.
I’ve been called uppity all her life. When it was uttered by people I knew—both Black (which includes family) and White-it hurt, I admit. Accusations of I did not sound or act Black enough—my goodness, what DOES that mean anyway? Or that I had too many White friends. Plus the closest I ever got to anything Ivy League was the purchase of a $1.98 ivy plant at Wal-mart.
Even in the 21st Century, a little stereotype goes a long way.
Come November 4, 2008, whether it’s an Obama win or loss, I will continue to bask in pride. My ancestors who built this country—literally-had families broken apart by being sold like livestock, yet treated lower than. My ancestors were denied any rights of any kind. For a time, slave logs did not list their names, just male, female or child. Because of what my ancestors endured then, there is success now.
Call it ‘uppity’ if you want. Call it a celebration for a moment in time that was and no longer is.
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