Category: Race

Last month, I was one of four or five panelists on a closing panel for United States National Committee- UN Women’s Los Angeles General Assembly on “Displacement and Sense of Belonging.” The day was dedicated to elevating the intersection of gender with race, immigration, houselessness, and other forms of discrimination that create social barriers in places, and minimize or obstruct a sense of belonging. The event took place in my work city of Santa Monica, a “progressive” branded city struggling with its own identity in a wave of gentrification where the demographics are increasingly becoming White and upper middle class thanks to the growing technology industry. Houselessness is also increasing as a by-product of low wage jobs, corporatizing of housing which raises costs, and a squeeze effect on middle and lower wealth populations who are wondering where shall they go.

The day was full of diverse perspective and an enriching conversation. Our panel was diverse and in fact I was touched by the opportunity to have all minority voices sharing stories that are often silenced or minimize in popular media. Whenever is there an opportunity to hear from content experts with various lived-experience who can talk to theory, practice, and day-to-day life navigation?

However, as anticipated in a dream the night before, the fragility of Whiteness could no longer contain itself, and a woman, a White woman, asked the last question of the day – “why isn’t there representation of whiteness on the panel?” She said she came to hear about women and girls, but only kept hearing the conversation of “race” and that she represented “middle America” the “red states” where her family and friends felt excluded from the conversation and that there needs were being ignored.

Somehow the spirit of my ancestors spoke through me, navigating, a response so she would not shut down, but at the same time questioning her discomfort for having to listen to People of Color for 30 to 45 minutes (the length of the panel). I also reminded her (thanks bell hooks) that it was not my or any other Person of Color’s responsibility to make her feel comfortable. There is often medicine in the tension created in these situations and if she was truly concerned about building bridges, and what was blocking her from receiving stories from “the other side” – from People of Color? How often would the audience have an opportunity to hear these empowering words so that she and other audience members could better understand disparities and their impacts by race to become more informed ambassadors in speaking with her friends and family? I also reminded her that the Midwest was not homogenized. In fact my father’s family is in Omaha, Nebraska – a red state.

While many in the audience were enraged by her comments and attitude, I welcomed her presence as a gift. Instead of an attack – it signaled to me a deeper hurt and longing – FOMO – a fear of missing out. A recognition of the air of change but not so sure where would her new place be.

So as I headed back to Omaha for a family gathering, I carried the wake of her words to look beyond the safe walls and love of family, to be open and present and listen in to the broader conversation – one not portrayed on the nightly news or in a Pew Poll.

Here are some initial reflections:

First and foremost, let’s debunk the myth of a White middle America and re-honor these lands as sacred places for Native Americans – Indigenous People. As we drove out to a lake to cool off from the heat, we first passed sprawling shopping malls, then new housing developments, then cornfields. I wondered how much longer would the cornfields remain? And then I caught myself remembering that these had been/continue to be Native lands and tried to imagine nature with less cultivation. The mid-western plains were stolen in the name of “progress” for opportunists seeking a better life than that given in Europe. People ironically seeking freedom of religion and liberation from a cast system murdered, cheated, lied, oppressed, and exploited the occupants of these lands for their own personal gain. Now Manifest Destiny continues – benefiting a small group of people at the cost of others. What will this road look like five, ten, twenty years from now?

Second, the Midwest reflects our diversity and cycles of opportunity. Omaha is where my dad was born and raised before he moved to Los Angeles after the Vietnam War. Our family resettled in Omaha after Emancipation Proclamation searching for work. The men entered the packing houses and many of the women cleaned homes or raised the children. We started off with humbled roots, tilling the land and believing in the faith of God. Most of the men joined the military, serving in WWI, WWII, and Vietnam. My great-grandfather immigrated from Mexico in 1908 and received his citizenship in 1938. In between he volunteered as a Spanish translator for the courts, helping other understand their civil rights. Another great-grandfather became a policeman, and a grand uncle became a fire fighter and later integrated Los Angeles Fire Department becoming the first African American Assistant Chief. My father enlisted in the Navy, fought in Vietnam and integrated Brandeise Department store upon his return home, before moving to California. Today, the sixth generation of Orduña’s are entering this world, claiming their space on the land of our roots.

While Omaha has hosted my family, it has also been a refuge for others. During my dad’s childhood, Eastern European refugees were relocated during World World II. Today, many African immigrants from Sudan and other nations are being resettled next door to  a growing Mexican and Central American community, to create a new, safe, life.

Omaha is a homeplace, but not perfect. Yet it is a city  grappling with its racism. The local paper ran a series called 24^th & Glory, outlining its legacy of racial segregation and the impacts on opportunities today. My dad confirmed many of these stories as we drove around and he interpreted the landscape through the memory of his childhood- where he could go, could not, and went anyway.

We also were engaged in unsolicited conversations by White women (leading voter demographic that pushed Trump into the White House), about their disgust about the president’s remarks on the four Congresswoman. They believed that they were divisive at a time the country needs to come together. While they appreciated his strengthening of the economy, they did not believe they would vote for him again. We also passed a church that stated on the marquee,  “there is no place for racism.”

What I gathered from the comments is that while as a nation we have not reconciled the material effects of a distribution of power and wealth through systematic racism nor penetrated white fragility, I believe that American racial attitudes have begun to change since President Obama’s presidency. I think my nine year old nephew was on to something when he asked why do we (my dad and me) always talk about race and could we make a pact not to mention race the “r-word” for three weeks. My dad and I looked at each other and said that we would try. The ultimate challenge of course is how do we reconcile racial wounds, address ongoing discrimination, while concurrently moving forward united by ideas and values?

Finally, there is a real cultural shift happening. A wave of corporatization overtaking collective individualism. Ideas created by mom and pop/creative entrepreneurs have been appropriated by “the corporation” and re-sold back. I know Wal-Mart was the first, but I guess I continue to struggle with the words to describe the essence of this cultural shift phenomenon as I experience it. Wages are downgraded as more and more people seek work in the service sectors including hospitality, food-service, retail, childcare, para-professional healthcare workers, etc. as housing costs continue to rise. The result is hour or longer commutes for minimum wage jobs, disrupting family-time, sense of community, and institutionalizing racial/class segregation of spaces. And there is no guarantee that these jobs will be available 20 years from now as AI replaces humans.

Also no longer are properties sold between families, but now to corporations – foreign investment groups. Thus experiences are being commodified and made uniformed so that one can go to Whole Foods in Los Angeles or Omaha and have the same experience and standard of customer service- devoid of any local charm. My parents are vegan and in the town of steaks- we were thankful for the Whole Foods, but as I was searching for a morning cup of coffee while they shopped, I had to hear a whole pitch on the ecology of the coffee beans before I could pour a cup. The exchange wasn’t about what I wanted (or needed with the time change and morning coffee addiction), but about branding. About setting a mark of exclusivity. It made me understand the adverse effect of gentrification beyond displacement, but a shift toward a luxury, pretentious culture that fuels a service economy, but not an equitable one for can the worker afford the beans he was selling?

Additionally, housing too is now branded. Adaptive reuse of former manufacturing buildings into lofts in Old Market Omaha look the same as those in Downtown L.A. I chuckled when I even saw the construction of a “river” to flow through the downtown area. I remembered attending a Urban Land Institute conference on creating destination places and the presenters gave the recipe for creating them – most designs creating some type of waterfront. Now there may have always been a water channel in downtown Omaha, but nothing like what is about to appear. Here, it was shaping before my eyes, and yet, five years from now, what will be will look like it has always been.

In spite of the “upgrade” – the best place we visited besides my Aunts’ homes and the lake, was the Leavenworth Café. It was a true diner that had love on the walls and who knows what under the table. The best food and service, with even better conversations as it was the place that you get up and talk to your neighbor at the adjoining booth or table. And it was family-friendly with a kids’ menu with free crayons. I understand that the owner intentionally hired to create 2^nd+ chances for people exiting prison and homelessness. I hope beyond hope this place is still here – the exact way it is with its Coffee News recycled papers the next time I visit. Just wished they served grits – but we were in meat and potato country. 

Omaha is not perfect, but it is the perfect classroom for learning what is truly happening in our country in this moment. How will the nation deal with the rising poverty created by low wage jobs, rising housing costs, and long commutes that disrupt families and communities? How soon will it be before there are no more individual/family owners of property – but all an LLC or other corporate structure? What difference will it make where one lives if families are split according to affordability, and the only local nuance will be the weather? Where artifacts of American pride – mom and pop stores, dream of home ownership, and cultural assets (parks, greenspaces, local museums, historic houses) disappear or become owned by foreign investment groups? How will humans practice purpose? Or will we all tune-out through virtual reality (VR) spas? Writer Octavia Butler may have truly saw her future- our present in Parable of the Talents.

Concluding thought: President Obama was right, there is no red or blue states, only the United States. No doubt racism hurts and continues to create material, spiritual, and psychological wounds, but we can’t let the current politics of race (different from systemic racism that few are truly talking about) further divide us. There is a greater threat to humanity and our world occurring that if we do not get in front of, we as a human race will be facing extinction as earth’s temperature continues to rise, animals and insects become extinct, the landfills can no longer manage our waste,  new diseases emerge from chemical processed foods, and ecological depression sets in  as open spaces continue to become concretized and privatized – imprisoning nature, leading to more deaths by suicides.

This trip into the red zone – (politics not football) – made me realize that the 2020 election is huge. It is not about race or even healthcare or even anti-Trump. It is a test of our ability – the will of the people – to bring in a collective cohort of eco-conscious leaders who can build bridges of dialogues across 20^th century borders to shift our current paradigm from absolute capitalism to a form of living that is in harmony with earth. Let’s open the pathway for these leaders to emerge by creating safe spaces of conversation and collaboration to validate new ways of human relations. Spaces where love, not ego, leads on the wind of spirit so that our ancestors help us build a new movement of being.

I am  thankful for the sacrifices of my ancestors, for their planting seeds of tolerance in our bloodline that are now manifesting in my generation and beyond. Thank you Papa and Mama Orduña. Thank you Omaha for giving me a place to call home. May your red symbolize love of self, family, country, culture, and world.

P.S. – the woman from the UN Women’s event and I are planning to have dinner soon. Will keep you updated.

I found this note on my desk on Friday. When I read it, all I could interpret it as was a noose, a symbolic image of the innate fear that many people have of Black people, and Black men in particularly – especially in white spaces like Santa Monica.

Santa Monica has a long history of racial segregation – designating space for workers and “the help” – but for the most part protecting the edges of its hamlet against racial integration.

Implicit bias against the Black stranger invites and attracts what the unconscious most fears. Many Black men, from Skid Row, right out of jail in their black plastic gear, Venice, and communities around the country – stop through Santa Monica as a place of refuge from the violence, gangs, substance use in search of sobriety, and exploitation – especially those whom seek safety in the mist of untreated mental health crisis.

The reaction on the part of locals is a sense of intrusion – an invasion that needs to arrested, contained, criminalized. A sentiment that “these are not our own” and that they must be displaced elsewhere.

So yes, many Black men (and others) are hyper-vigilant, defensive, and will speak up when unwelcoming gazes pierce their flesh with hatred and disgust. This particular person is a veteran with PTSD who wants a home of his own so he can start a family. His behavior represents that of so many others who are protecting the boundaries of their being with what often is all they have left to maintain a connection to their earth – protecting the one place left where their feet touch the ground which given the serial displacement of Black male bodies – is often only where they are in that moment- fighting hard for the liberation “to be.”

Imagine though if in being literally the last train stop before one enters the ocean, and a retreat town where ole St. Monica calls many for respite from mental illness and healing (I am sure our pier is up there with the Golden Gate bridge if you know what I mean) – we responded with a trauma-informed community safety-net that understood how to respond to hyper-vigilance? If we had quiet safe places- public homeplaces like Callie Rose that welcomed people and allowed them to breathe, reassess their current position, and then offer a connection to services?

This morning I was thinking the most successful mental wellness model for Black men in America has been the Nation of Islam. Say what you will in other areas of their work, but when it comes to addressing historical trauma and rebuilding self-esteem and confidence, no other intervention has worked at the scale of Farrakhan’s model. That gives me pause.

In the meantime, we must overcome implicit racial biases to have empathy toward those suffering from mental illness regardless of their skin color. It is unacceptable that the majority of People of Color living with mental illness are treated in our jails and criminal justice system – and not in community based settings or psychiatric settings (although I prefer Indigenous models compared to institutions) where there are connections to treatment and family support.

The succession of mass-shootings show that no one is immune to the collective- mental decomposition of our society. Everyone is impacted. We must stop scapegoating and responding with borders and criminalization. We must understand that we are all hurting in this outlandish, hostile climate, yet privilege prevents some of us from going over the edge – privilege of faith, family, friends, access to health care, loving relationships, nature. So, let’s stop responding with fear and build empathy.

And for the record, besides having a human to human conversation (which I had on my way in and he demonstrated no harm to self or others- was just talking loud), the only thing I will do with this “aggressive Black man” is let him be.

P.S. – After a second note, found out who wrote it. The staff person was expressing the tension of other staff standing in fear in the face of mental illness and implicit biases of Blackness. Had a great conversation and transformed this situation into a beautiful teaching moment. Everyone in City Hall now knows his name and he is still unhoused, but connected to a clinical team who are patiently building trust to best serve his needs.