Two black coaches in the Superbowl. First time in history. Never before has a black coach lead a team to the Superbowl. Now we have two. One of them will be the first black coach in history to win a Superbowl. It surprised me. It also surprised me how little I cared. And I'm a huge football fan. I'm so tired of the firsts. The first black this, the first woman that, the first Hispanic whatever. Haven't we moved past this. White men must be losing their minds. Everything they've worked for is slipping away. The only thing they have left that truly belongs to them is Hockey and Horse Jumping and Woody Allen.
Every Monday night for 3 weeks. PBS rebroadcast "Eyes on the Prize," the groundbreaking documentary about the Civil Rights Movement. It was a few months ago, I'm still thinking about it.
Where are those young people? The Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) who sat at lunch counters and had slurs and food hurled at them for hours and days and weeks on end. Where are the kids who were blasted off their feet by unforgiving fire hoses, attacked by snarling police dogs?
Where are they now? The Prize was justice, the prize was equality, the prize was freedom. Are we there yet? Most days I like to think so.
Then I turn on the news and see that cops fired 50 bullets at 3 unarmed black men. Knocks the wind out of you, knocks the hope out of you.
It's complicated, I know. Those police officers wanted to get home to their families. So on a dark night, facing these dark men, in their dark car, they chose fear over reason. How do we fix that?
I see the problem very clearly, it's boys. I have a boy, I was a boy, still am at heart really. I know how boys think. Boys think that they can't talk it out, reason it out, they must fight it out or they will forever be boys.
Coleman was on a play date the other day with a little boy who is about a month older. Their play is at the very least competitive, often times violent. On this play date, Coleman picked up something that was apparently the little boy's favorite thing in the whole world prompting him to tackle Coleman from behind.
Immediately following Coleman was cranky and very clingy insisting on being carried. We had to take him to the doctor, he sprained something in his foot. It wasn't broken or fractured, but he limped around for a day and a half.
I wonder what is it about the way boys communicate that makes it so contentious. Coleman is so gentle with girls.
Maybe I'm worrying too much. Because after Coleman was better, the mother of the other boy insisted on a play date, to make sure there were no hard feelings. Coleman got so excited, he couldn't wait to get to the park to play with his "boy."
Look at the global situation, in every nook and cranny of our world, there are boys fighting, boys in conflict. Boys in Darfur who rape and burn villages. Boys in the Flavelas of Rio who steal and kill. Palestinian boys who want to kill Israeli boys and vice-versa. Boys from South Central to South Beach to the South Bronx are all in turmoil.
These problems involve race, history, religion, economics and a whole bunch of other factors. But I know 3 women would not have shot 50 bullets at 3 other women. Anybody want to argue that??
My son is 2, I need to fix this now. He's gonna be at the club, strip or otherwise before I know it. I want him to come home, every night.
He's my prize.
