We’ve been bombarded by our fair share of stump speeches these days. I’ve heard so many that I’m starting to get the form down. Most fascinating—and most abrasive to me—is the part where I think we are supposed to imagine music coming up softly in the background while a candidate speaks about the “ordinary Americans” they’ve met along the campaign trail. This is the moment when they share their fireside stories of the unstaged encounters they’ve enjoyed with regular folks all across the nation—like Ben from Minnesota who got divorced and lost his job, but gave the last $5 he had in his pocket to the campaign, or 17-year old Jillian from Delaware who was on the list for a heart transplant and whose parents just lost their health insurance, but who is busy telling all of her friends to vote.

I’m sure these authentic moments momentarily revive the ailing heartbeats of these extra-ordinary individuals whose precious hours are spent stumping and sound-byting and strategizing—and, in stolen moments of quiet, wondering who are their true allies and who is just looking to be on the gravy train. It’s not surprising that us velveteen people could bring some overdue fresh air to their increasingly re-circulated oxygen interactions.

We’re just so real in our little lives, aren’t we?

But I’d be more convinced of any candidate’s sincerity if we were given a few anecdotes about other equally ordinary people who just happened to be a few rungs higher up on the ladder of wealth—like Chuck from the Upper West Side of Manhattan who is so inspired for change that he is donating his recent inheritance to urban youth programs around the country that will help to get out the vote, or Reni the Hollywood mogul who just gave $10 million to rural campaign efforts because Obama inspired her desire for unity. Somehow, these equal opportunity anecdotes would be less patronizing.

But this will never happen—because there is a ruling class, and then there are all the rest of us. Every once in a while, the ruling class just needs us little guys to highlight their moral uprightness as they battle for position and power among themselves. But after things are in place again, we become a lot less interesting—and they act less like “public servants” and more like royalty.

As long as the term “ordinary people” continues to be the euphemism for poor schleps like us who happen to be the voting masses, I know that we are heading for more business as usual. Obama’s candidacy may look to be equalizing our racial caste system, but what about the just-as-real class hierarchy—you know, that one that keeps poor people poor by keeping rich people rich. We’d much rather talk about race, wouldn’t we? That way, we don’t come close to threatening the real power brokers—who actually come in all colors. Their positions remain unthreatened. Ironic, given all this talk of “change we can believe in.”

When us ordinary Americans start to examine class as a preeminent national division, making more of us “fellow citizens” than we otherwise think, then the real revolution is here. Until that time, I’d rather skip the rhetoric. And if they really thought about it, I’ll bet Bob and Jillian would feel the same way.

Laurie

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Bravo. We were both electrified when we learned that you are stretching beyond the oppressive reach of our cultural fear-mongers, and creatively taking action to stand up for the kind of world that makes more sense to you. In the tiny act of symbolically assuming the middle name “Hussein” (in solidarity with Barack Obama), you are daring the rest of us to question our assumptions about Muslims, about Arabs, about many things that we define as “foreign.” However, there is something important that you may be missing, that lots of people seem to be missing these days.

In the New York Times article about the bold step each of you has taken, Ashley “Hussein” Holmes was quoted as saying that she has “such a vanilla, white-girl American name.” That comment troubled us because these days it is fairly typical to make derogatory comments about white people. And we notice that such comments play in an alluringly hip kind of a way. In fact, if you identify as white and anti-racist, it is actually fashionable to offhandedly hate on white people and white culture—and to not blink while doing so. In fact, no one blinks. We think this has nearly become a rite of passage to achieving anti-racist status if you’re white. But this seems to be throwing out the proverbial baby with the bathwater. Yes, the name “Ashley Holmes” may reveal something of your white cultural background—just like “Hussein” provides insight into Barack Obama’s heritage. But if you are going to stand up against hatred and bigotry and small-mindedness, then stand up for everyone—and without backhandedly putting some group down. (And by the way, Ashley, one of us writing this actually assumed that you were black by the sound of your name. Interesting, huh?)

So, it’s our turn to dare you. We dare you to think about the subtle ways white culture and white people are becoming something like the new minstrels. Sure, many think that white people have it coming to them—so they should just “suck it up” and accept the lampooning. But we’re not talking about comedy. We’re referring to the deep dis-identification that white people are being asked to make with themselves in order to take on a position that seeks and supports social justice. That is not social justice. That is just another form of ignorance. After all, social justice is not a zero sum game. We don’t have to lift up one culture, any culture, at the expense of another. Those kinds of approaches always fail—with terrible misery in their wake (think: Israel and Palestine).

All of you who have become honorary Husseins are in the vanguard of a new generation of Americans who are poised to make new demands on this culture and its people, challenging us to define ourselves based on something other than our deeply polarized, historical divisions. In fact, this is what rests at the core of your symbolic act.

We’re not asking you to “respect your heritage” in a Dinesh D’Souza sort of way. But we think that making fun of your culture is not going to truly bring you closer to other cultures. It will just keep you in denial of who you are—and eventually that will get old. Besides, it’s not going to make you any more cool. The coolest white people we know have figured out how to support the humanity and interesting cultural customs of all people—without denying or downplaying the fact that they are white. From what we’ve seen, we think you all are smart and creative enough—and cool enough—to do that.

Laurie and Sam

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