The American Race

[well worth reading the entire piece - link on the title to go to Leon Wynter's blog...]


There is this one, fat, black, woman who keeps wading across my TV screen. Or maybe there’s a hundred of her. She drags her belongings in a gym bag through chest- deep oily water. Her arms are as fat as thighs. Her THIGHS are churning all that’s foul beneath the surface.

And then there’s the brother. He’s a do-ragged, unshaven gangsta from central casting with a case of beer on his shoulder. Maybe he’s her nephew. He doesn’t have a record deal—yet— but he does have a nasty hard core rapin’ and robbin’ video out on cable news right now.

Auntie and nephew are the worst possible sterotypes of black America. America sees them playing on an endless loop on TV this week. We haven’t seen this many black folks acting out this much pain since the rebranded Rodney King uprising in L.A.

All I can see are metaphors, blowing in the wind from Katrina, the perfect storm.

Forget forest and trees. On TV we can’t see the class for the race.