In April 1974, Professor Lawrence G. Felice of Baylor University presented a paper at the annual meeting of the American Educational Research Association. Felice was at the conference representing the National Center for Educational Research and Development (U.S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare). His paper was titled “Busing, Desegregation and Student Self-Concept.”
Felice found that the No. 1 shared trait among black students who reacted well to busing was a high IQ. Black students who did well in a white school were the ones who’d been bullied as “toms” in their black school. Black students with low IQs and a hostility to whites fared better, grade-wise, in black schools. In a landmark desegregation study by the late Nigerian-American anthropologist and professor Dr. John Ogbu, the author recounts an interview with a bused black student who told his school counselor why he plays dumb around his black friends: “I don’t want ’em to know I’m smart. They’ll make fun of me. I won’t have any friends. Where I live, they’re gonna say I’m white.”
Author and producer Tanner Colby (The Daily Show With Trevor Noah) detailed this harm in his Andrew Carnegie Medal-nominated book, Some of My Best Friends Are Black: The Strange Story of Integration in America: Before desegregation, “acting white” was a phrase no one had ever heard with regard to school involvement or academics. Yet in the wake of busing, it rose to become one of the most hurtful insults one black student could level at another. Talking white, dressing white, being enthusiastic about anything “white” was forsaking one’s own. Colby highlights the case of one high-performing black student who was bused along with his peers to a white school: I was discriminated against more by people of my own color than I ever was by white people…. I can’t actually pinpoint an incident where a white person ever called me a nigger. I’m sure it happened, but I can’t say it was any one time. The black kids were harsher. They would say stuff to my face.
The worst part of the day for most students, black or otherwise, were the bus rides. An hour-plus each way of unsupervised hell. If you’ve ever been bullied at school or in the yard, where alert adults are often present, just imagine how much worse it would be when you can’t get away from your tormentors and the only adult is the driver, who is usually elderly or female and can’t see or hear what is going on behind them, assuming they even care, which is not what they are getting paid for. Democrats may want to bring back busing, but you can bet that the students might prefer to riot.
This letter below was titled “An Open Letter To Megan Rapinoe, from “America.” It’s eloquent, and educational and kind. Does anyone think she cares? As she and Allie Long carelessly trampled on our flag in a rush to imitate Instagram-worthy endzone celebrations, posturing seems to come first. Without the intervention of a more grateful teammate, Kelly O’Hara, who rushed forward to grab up our flag before Rapinoe and Long could drag it underfoot in their dancing, we would have been treated to the international spectacle of highly privileged American athletes cavorting on our national symbol. Would that be a good look? Ok, it’s not like the bodies of dead Americans being dragged behind vehicles in Baghdad or Mogadishu, but it is a bigger deal than T.O. stomping on the Dallas Cowboys star. Without further ado, here’s most of the letter, to which I have added a few asides.
“First, let us congratulate you and your teammates on a sensational World Cup championship. You made us proud. You know us, right? The country you’ve represented so ably on the pitch? Because—hope this doesn’t sound weird—we’ve kind of had some small role in your success. No question, you worked for what you’ve accomplished with the talents you were fortunate to be blessed with. But never forget you that had the opportunity to do so. That you’ve made the most of those opportunities delights us; it’s what we’re all about. But we do wonder why you’d discount the privilege you enjoyed of having had those opportunities that are, sad to say, deprived most people around the world.
Correct us if we’re wrong. But our understanding is that most or all of you and your teammates came from middle-class homes (or better) and were allowed and encouraged to take up organized sports at early ages. All (or most) of you went to college and I’d be surprised if any of you paid full-tuition. This is . . . not the norm around the world. It should be! But this is a form of privilege that’s been granted to you by dint of your birth and we kind of thought that you’d (1) be grateful for it, and (2) would recognize it for what it is and be humble about how many of the women you competed against in France did not have the same advantages. Because let’s be honest: If you’re a female soccer player, being born in America is like winning the lottery. The U.S. women’s teams have now won four World Cup titles, four Olympic gold medals, and eight CONCACAF gold cups—that’s the kind of domination that no national team in any country in any sport, male or female, has ever achieved. Something must be going right with America and our support of women’s athletics.
“So we were kind of confused the other day when you explained your refusal to sing the National Anthem, and when you cursed the symbol of the Executive branch of our national government, and when you conspicuously refused to stand and say the pledge, but kneeled instead, adopting an expression of distaste. We’re not quite sure what upsets you. ‘I think for detractors,’ you said, ‘I would have them look hard into what I’m saying and the actions that I’m doing. Maybe you don’t agree with every single way that I do it, and that can be discussed.’ Well, back atcha. Aren’t we entitled to the same benefit of the doubt? Let’s discuss whether there’s a country that has made more progress on virtually every human rights front in little more than a generation? In fact, let’s discuss how some countries are actually going backwards. Surely you’ve noticed that France and Germany and the UK and much of the rest of the world are trying to criminalize the kind of speech rights you’re now famous for exercising. ‘I know that I’m not perfect,’ you said,‘but I think that I stand for honesty and for truth and for wanting to have the conversation and for looking at the country honestly. I think this country was founded on a lot of great ideals, but it was also founded on slavery. And I think we just need to be really honest about that and be really open in talking about that so we can reconcile that and hopefully move forward and make this country better for everyone.’
“What we hear you saying is, we should look past your imperfections and focus on your intentions. Okay, well, again, back atcha. Right there in the preamble to our Constitution it says, ‘in order to form a more perfect union…’ You see? ‘More perfect’ expressly states that we’re a work in progress. And aren’t we all! And we have this Constitution—the oldest in the world—that allows for every generation to amend what was originally set down and try to make ‘this country better for everyone.’ There’ve been 17 Amendments added to the original 10. True, not all of them have made things better. The 16th, 17th, and 18th were giant mistakes that backfired spectacularly (though fortunately the 18th was repealed). But all were passed with the intention of making things better: for example, the abolition of slavery, women’s suffrage, and limiting presidents to two terms.
“So if we’re going to ‘be really honest’ about slavery and ‘hopefully move forward,’ you might acknowledge that chattel slavery ended more than 150 years ago. It was a legacy of our colonial master, England, which at the time practiced slavery in every one of its colonies and territories, and had for over a century, before the American Revolution was a glint in the Founding Fathers’ eyes. Read the accounts of the Constitutional Convention to see how fiercely slavery was debated. Yes, it would’ve been wonderful if the antislavery voices had prevailed. But keep in mind that if slavery had been disallowed from the beginning, about half of the original 13 colonies wouldn’t have joined the ‘united’ states. Then what? Then no United States. The fact that it was a primary topic of discussion and argumentation at a time when slavery existed on every populated continent and had since the beginning of time was a moral victory without precedent in history.
“Here’s the progressive historian Sean Wilentz, from his bookNo Property in Man: Slavery and Antislavery at the Nation’s Founding: Although the framers agreed to compromises over slavery that blunted antislavery hopes and augmented the slaveholders’ power, they also deliberately excluded any validation of property in man. This exclusion, insisted upon by a majority of the delegates, was of profound and fateful importance. It rendered slavery solely a creation of state laws. It thereby opened the prospect of a United States free of slavery—a prospect some delegates deeply desired and many more believed was coming to pass. Above all, it left room for the new federal government to hinder slavery’s expansion, something which, after the Constitution’s ratification, slavery’s opponents struggled to achieve.
“Kind of amazing, no? Imagine the guts it took for the Founders to force this exclusion at a moment when it threatened to derail the entire creation of the country. About twenty years later, the importation of slaves was prohibited, and a few decades later, 2 percent of the country’s population (4 percent of men) died fighting a civil war to end slavery. No other country did that. Have there been racial issues and prejudice since then? Absolutely. There’s not a mixed-racial society on Earth that doesn’t suffer issues like that, and ours are compounded by the lingering hangover from both slavery and Jim Crow. But has there been astounding progress, in law and hearts and minds? The answer is an unqualified yes. You can want to improve things more without misunderstanding the amazing scope of progress we’ve already made together.
Frankly, we don’t really care if you sing the National Anthem or stand there like Han Solo in carbonite. Either one is your right. This isn’t North Korea, where citizens fear they’ll be tortured or killed if they stop applauding Fearless Leader. This is in itself another point in our favor. But whatever. But we do have a question: Did you notice how loudly and enthusiastically the French players and spectators in that jammed stadium sang their national anthem, La Marseillaise, before your quarterfinal match against France? These people adore their anthem. No matter where or when it’s played, they stand up straighter, sing at the top of their lungs, and frequently hold back tears—like that scene in Casablanca. Sometimes the French just burst into singing the anthem while waiting for a train. And French coaches don’t seem to have much problem getting a plane of French citizens to sing along.
As you saw, several members of the French team you played against were young women of color. Their families had come from former French colonies in Africa like Senegal, Morocco, Tunisia, and Cameroon. Repeat: former colonies. Meaning countries that France, competing with other European powers, fought over and occupied for centuries in order to steal their natural resources and enslave their people. We never did that. It wasn’t all that long ago, probably during your parents’ lives, that the last of those African colonies were granted their freedom from France. Only after a war. And beaucoup de problèmes remain. In fact, many of these young women grew up in what the French call “les banlieus,” essentially suburban slums inhabited mostly by immigrants with little hope of being accepted as fully French and only slightly more hope of a better future—unless, of course, they played soccer and showed French football officials they could be useful. Yet they sang as loudly and passionately as everyone else.
“Our national anthem was inspired by seeing a flag still flying over a fort that had been attacked by the British in 1814, soon after they’d invaded Washington and burned the White House, the Capitol, and other buildings and before attacking Fort McHenry in Baltimore. The siege lasted a full day and night, but in the morning the American soldiers who’d withstood the barrage raised a large flag—as Francis Scott Key saw with his own eyes from a boat in Baltimore Harbor. Not for nothing was the War of 1812 nicknamed ‘The Second American Revolution.’
“All right, Megan, we’ll let you go enjoy the fruits of your victory. You’ve earned your place in the Pantheon, and we hope you’ll use it constructively. As someone who’s been so blessed and so privileged, please encourage other young women to take advantage of their opportunities in this country that are unparalleled anywhere else in the world, and urge them to work hard for what they want, just as you did.“
The United States of America
Beautiful letter. I think we have a mostly beautiful country and history, marred by human imperfections (for you secularists) or by sin (the Christian perspective). But as Megan herself said in the fourth paragraph, “I’m not perfect.” That’s the same word Bill Clinton invoked when talking about adultery he committed with an intern in the Oval Office. “I’m not a perfect man.” Use of that word is usually an oblique way of excusing wrongdoing. No Megan, you aren’t perfect, but no one expects you to be. No human being or endeavor is perfect. So why do you except perfection from your country? Not just now, but in the past? Talk about double standards!
Elle Magazine, of course, has another take. Their writer Jill Gutowitz says, “As a lesbian, seeing Megan’s signature short hairdo blown up to godlike proportions on a Nike billboard on the Downtown Los Angeles skyline is breathtaking. I’ve never seen anything like it before: a woman who is proud to be queer, and stands mighty and nobly in her power. And I’ve never seen anyone apologize less for inspiring this kind of attention. At a time in American history when it seems impossible to feel inspired or patriotic, Rapinoe makes me feel inspired and patriotic. Why? She’s America’s first proudly out lesbian sports icon who’s been soundly embraced, even outside the queer community. It reminds me that I want more than to be just tolerated or represented in media; we should be past that. Now, I want justice for the decades of repression I endured, and being made to feel like I wasn’t worth celebrating. I want to be desired, admired, revered for being a hot dyke—just like America’s new hero, Megan Rapinoe.“
YOU CAN DECIDE, DEAR READER, WHOSE TAKE ON OUR NATION EVINCES GRATITUDE, AND WHOSE IS ALL ABOUT SELF.