…is one of those days where I just feel the immediacy and burden of some of the demographics of my life.  I don’t mind the demographics themselves, but it can sure feel burdensome at times.

• I just gave a $500 contribution to the black female in my state who may become the first black female governor in the country and is on yesterday’s cover of Time magazine (Aug 6/Aug 13, 2018 issue).  Stacey Abrams is beyond awesome.  I’ve been absolutely awed by her from the first time I heard her speak well before she chose to run.
• Earlier in the day, it was $750 for a lifetime membership in the NAACP to which I have contributed for decades, to help continue the very much needed now, vigorous fight they have had since their creation as the most vocal and enduring advocate for inclusion of all people in America’s continuing journey toward the most promising word of its founding documents, equality.
• Yesterday it was attending the presentation day of the inaugural 8-week residential McNair Scholars program at my university to help aspiring minority STEM students achieve graduate school entry and success.   I had been blessed to be the keynote speaker for their opening welcome banquet 8 weeks ago, and although I really did not have the time, made it to come back and see them 8 weeks later for their presentation of research program at the program’s end.  I was so glad I did.  Turns out, even though I am not in the sciences, and only spoke at their opening banquet, the students had asked administrators if I would be there and were apparently ecstatic when they learned I would attend.  It was so worth it, that I continuously cried during the program.  It was incredibly enriching for the students and for the University and for the world into which these students will one day bring their gifts we helped them to channel.  It truly scares me to think of how many people who will never get the chance to do this are missing from what we could achieve as a society.
• A few days before it was attending the going-away party for a former student now headed to law school.  I had first met him as a young, black, extremely highly motivated freshman from a very small town in Georgia that would not have been one from which you would think his gifts would flow given the history of the area.  But, he ended up becoming the very well regarded president of the student body with much gravitas, and we will continue to hear only great things from him, I have no doubt whatsoever.  I teach thousands of students, so, as you can imagine, I cannot attend such events for them all.  But, he was someone for whom not only I was in attendance, but also the president of our university.  That speaks volumes about both him and the president.
• While at that event that took time I had to create to be there, I met someone whose job as a regional program administrator led her to know such things, who told me about a call she had received that day from a young black student from a very unstable background  who had nonetheless just graduated from high school in our town (no small feat in a town with a substantial drop out rate), had published two books and begun a clothing line before doing so, and who was headed off to college in 3 weeks, but, she had learned in a call earlier in the day, was homeless as of that morning because of circumstances beyond his control.  She was worried about him being able to find a place to stay for the 3 weeks until college started, but, even then, he had little to no money for college and had begun a GoFundMe page.  I got the details, reached out to him, contributed to his college fund and would have had him stay with me except that my daughter objected to having a stranger in the house.  Feel free to donate.

That was just in the past week.  And I didn’t even count in:

• The 3, hours-long conversations I had been requested to have by those in need to  discuss their own “demographic” issues, including race, sexual orientation, race and gender issues in graduate education, and age.
• The fact that the more extremist Republican candidate for governor won in the run-off on Tuesday, even though he had done things that had garnered embarrassing national attention like ride around campaigning in a pickup truck with a sign on the side and a campaign promise to “round up illegals” even if he had to do it himself.
• Or the state legislator for my state who also garnered embarrassing national (I’m sure, international) attention after he had allowed himself to be duped into being broadcast on national television by Sacha Baron Cohen, running around backwards with his a** hanging out shouting America! in an effort to ward off potential terrorists he was told hated homosexuals, or shout numerous times at the top of his voice, the N-word, or give his impression of someone Asian by spouting his limited, nonsensical Chinese-related words pretending to take selfie-stick photos up a skirt, or jab a knife repeatedly at a burka-clad dummy.  Although I understand how things can mushroom out of proportion, some things are just what they are. I was able to breathe a sigh of relief when he had sense enough to bow to pressure from every side and resign. (story here)
• Reading the depressing piece in HuffPost by the mixed (black-white) guest writer, Carolyn Copeland, about why she still hides her natural hair and instead opts for weave (here).  It caused quite a stir, and was apparently for others a watershed moment, when I stepped onto campus after Thanksgiving of my freshman year  in 1968 after having visited a barber in Indianapolis to have him cut my perm down to my natural hair.  Embarrassing as that stage is for anyone, I now recognize the courage it took to do what I, and my friend Carolyn did.  That was 50 years ago.  While I had locs twice during that 50 years (wearing my hair in a short natural as I do, I find that that volume of quickly-growing hair [who knew?] is simply too much hair for me), my hair has always remained natural.  It is ridiculous to me, and depressing, that 50 years later, we are still even mentioning this as an issue—a racial issue at that. When will society ever learn? Some (!) days I wonder about our progress.  This isn’t about castigating anyone who chooses not to wear their hair in its natural state.  Do what suits you.  Rather, it is about a society that stubbornly refuses to allow black women the space to comfortably make the choice on their own and instead gives them messages, many internalized by black women themselves, that their hair must look like white folks’ hair in order to be accepted for purposes of employment, personal beauty, etc.  Don’t get me started.  I seethe every time I think about it.  As a matter of fact, I did an entire law review article on it with my co-author linda harrison.

Most days I can go around just feeling like a human being.  But, sometimes, the demographics of my life just seem to intrude. I love each and every one of them and celebrate them all:  race, color, hair, gender, age, sexual orientation, socio-economic status, religion, geography,  etc.  They make my life so much richer.

But, I do own that part of it comes with what they call the “black tax.”  The extra burden, imposed in so many ways, of being black.  I’m sure virtually all groups have a tax of some sort, but, I swear,  sometimes, as much as you love all the categories into which society puts you, intersectionality can feel truly burdensome.  Again, not because of the categories themselves, as I love, love, love each of mine and my life is so much richer for them, but because of the crap other people project onto them.

I am a lawyer, but primarily I am an educator.  Almost by definition, that means I’m not rich.  At 67, I am somewhere near retirement and still saving for it.  I don’t have money to just give away like I do to such causes without feeling the consequences elsewhere.  But, what’s the choice?  These are battles that must not only be fought, but that must be won.  I don’t want our gubernatorial candidate to miss giving our state excellent and much-needed leadership for want of a few dollars mine might give her.  I can’t afford the luxury of thinking someone else will do it.  I have to take things personally.  What if every person involved in the Civil Rights or any other significant movement had said that?  Each and every person who chose not to get on a bus during the Montgomery Bus Boycott was an individual making a personal choice but look at the difference it collectively made. Buses were no longer segregated.  From that, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. came into the national spotlight and ended up causing a national movement resulting in the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965, among other things.

I also know that even though I don’t feel to part with my money or time when it is needed elsewhere in my life, at least I am privileged enough to be able to be in a position to choose to do so.   I live with knowing that there are so many others who cannot do it simply because they do not have either.  I have to give for them as well.  I have to buy that book by a black author because I know so many who may want to do so cannot afford it, and others won’t simply because they will dismiss it as irrelevant to their lives because they themselves are not black.  Publishers will then not continue to publish books by black authors because they are not profitable. It is also why I have to see black movies during the weekend of their release.  Those are the numbers that count.  I want their movies to continue to be made.  To not do so would be a loss for us all.  As with all cultures, we have so many funny, inspiring, enriching, interesting, imaginative stories to tell that will enrich everyone’s life, whether they know it or not.  If the numbers are not right for movie producers, that won’t happen.  I know that by living on a big corner in my subdivision, my lawn has to be well maintained on a consistent basis or the thought will be that failure to do so is why no one wants black to live in their neighborhoods, so it will be more difficult for black purchasers overall.  It’s just a fact.  Part of being black.  Even tho my non-black neighbors may not recognize that idea, stats bear it out.  That’s the nature of internalized, persistent, institutional racism.  I could go on, but you get my point.

So, sometimes it all gets to be a bit much, and I just feel the weight of it. Today is one of those times.  But, as always, I persevere…..