The New Normal...oh how I hate that phrase. Part I

Welcome...

“Welcome to the new normal”

How I hate that phrase! Yet, almost daily, we seem to hear instances that make it clear that existence in our current world has been altered…forever. I am not fearful of change mind you, but what does cause me concern is the potential damage our fluctuating society of today is causing to our generations of the future.

Over the next few posts, I will offer my own personal view on the “new normal,” and what it means in a few different facets of our lives. My hope is that you will continue to check back for new posts and begin to discuss what our “new normal” looks like in your own day to day. So, let’s get started!

As many of you may know, I have been enjoying my commutes courtesy of the RTD light rail. It’s some of my favorite time as I can sit back and relax and enjoy one of my favorite new obsessions; pod casts! I have to say there is some AMAZING stuff out there, and it is effortless to access. If you aren’t already a fan, I urge you to try one…you’ll be hooked.

The 2018 Peabody Award winning podcast
 "Buried Truths"

Anyway, one of my faves is entitled “Buried Truths.” Hosted by Pulitzer prize winning author, journalist, and Emory University professor Hank Klibanoff, this illuminating series tells the stories of southern racial injustice. A southerner himself, Klibanoff focuses on the oft forgotten cold cases of blacks who were, for lack of a better reason, for being black. “Buried Truths” gives an abbreviated account of the lengths he, and his passionate students, are willing to go to uncover the truth about some of the most blatant examples of racial bias I have ever come across.

The first series of “Buried Truths” focuses on the murder of man named Isaiah Nixon in 1948 at the hands of two white men who shot and killed Nixon in the front yard of his house while his mother, his wife and his 6 children watched. As shocking as the circumstances of this crime are, which the podcast goes into in greater detail, is the reason for the killing. Two men, Jim A. Johnson and his brother Johnnie Johnson, approached the Nixon home in their pickup truck. The date of this crime is significant; September 8, 1948. The reason? It was the date of the Georgia Democratic primary; the first in the states history that blacks could vote in. So, it seems the Johnson brothers were out in the community doing their own kind of “exit polling,” because according to accounts of the event, the brothers initially asked Nixon to get into their truck and take a ride with them.

Nixon refused.

Taking another tack, one of the Johnson’s allegedly asked Nixon a question. Who he had voted for in the primary?

Isaiah Nixon, the man murdered by
the Johnson Bros. in 1948

Mr. Nixon’s answer apparently was not the correct one; one of the Johnson's then shot him 3 times, after which the brothers sped away. Shortly after the two were arrested. They were indicted by a grand jury; one with murder and the other with being an accessory to a murder. and set to trial. At the trial of Jim Johnson, a jury of his all white peers found him not guilty. Why? Because at the time, a white defendant was almost always certain to be found not guilty of a crime against a black person by claiming self-defense. So, as one might imagine based on this plea, Johnson was acquitted. The district attorney at the time felt that there was no need to pursue charges against Johnnie Johnson, so charges were dropped.

Outraged? I can imagine…I certainly was. And the resonance that this story has had on me will play out further in future posts. For now, I use it to illustrate a parallel in our society of today, that existed exponentially back then. Racism.

As some of you have read in posts I make occasionally on social media, I myself have experienced more than a few instances of racism. Many come from places one wouldn’t particularly expect, but still occur. And yet after I post these occurrences, often I receive replies that surprise me.

“That really didn’t happen, did it?”

Yet it does. The first few times I received such a reply, I must admit it hurt. I cannot imagine for what reason one would fabricate such things, though through the media we have learned that some have. For myself, I seek no gain of any kind in sharing these events. Over time, the hurt I felt at being questioned has changed to one of a more compassionate nature. I have come to realize that what I have done, is to show some of the doubters that the world in which they think they live, just isn’t.

After the 2016 presidential election, I was asked to participate in a panel discussion with some students at a local university. After a rousing discussion on a myriad of election related topics, the moderator closed out our time by asking one last student to ask one last question. A lovely African American girl, who up until then had remained silent, was selected and arose from her seat and approached the microphone. I liked her instantly; she walked with a poise and determination that reminded me on someone…my mom. After reaching the mic, she took a breath, and asked her question…

What did we find the most surprising effect of the election?

It was a seemingly innocuous question, and one that caused more that a couple sighs and eye rolls from her fellow students. But in that instant, I felt she and I connected on something deeper than the simplicity of her question. Rather, she was looking for something more grass roots. My fellow speakers chose to pull out of their bags the tried and true responses; the economy, defense, foreign relations, etc.… As it would have it, I was the last in the row to speak, and when I did, I spoke directly to the young lady who asked the question. My answer? The question of race.

The "ugly vase of racism."
Do you have one?

In that moment, I too experienced some of the groans and eye rolls her question had received. But I quickly offered to explain a little bit further by using an example that was shared with me by someone I held, and still hold, in high regard. It began this way…

Imagine if you will, that in your family there was an individual who was held in extremely high regard. Perhaps a matriarch/patriarch that everyone in your family knows can be a bit…difficult for lack of a kinder word. They have power and influence in your family model, and everyone does their best to gain or remain in the good graces of this individual.

Now, imagine further that on a gift giving occasion, the family member in question gifts you with something incredibly unexpected and not all together welcome. In the beautifully wrapped package is a vase. Not just any vase, but one of the unattractive pieces of crap that you have ever laid eyes on. Imagine what true ugly looks like, and then amplify it by ten, and you still won’t come close to the level of ugly this thing has reached. To borrow from the rhyme, there is no alibi for this level of ugly.

So, what do you do? Well, as anyone who has such a dynamic in their family knows, you accept it without question. You may even do a bit of excessive gushing just to show them that their gift, no matter how much of a horror, is appreciated and your gratitude is immeasurable. And when you get the “gift” home, you are faced with the dilemma of where to put it. As not to offend said relative, and to show them on their often too frequent drop in visits, you decide to place the eyesore up on a high bookshelf let’s say, slightly behind the set of childhood encyclopedias or college textbooks you still inexplicably have.

Done and done, right?

As you go about your daily life, you work, you play, you exercise, you hope, you plan…you get the idea. You live your life, rarely giving that thing a second thought. That is until you have the occasion to visit with some of your friends, your co-workers, your client’s and the like. Much to your surprise you find that not only do others have in their possession a similar piece, but their choice of display is not as hidden away as you tried to do with yours. For some, it has made its way down from the higher shelf of that bookcase to a lower, more prominent place on the shelf. Some have gone as far as to bring it down to a place on a sofa table, or an accent table, or a desk credenza. And even some, have made it a focal point; on their dining room or coffee table, both places with a more prominent presence.

While you are surprised, you begin to feel that not only are you disrespecting the thought put into this gift by your family curmudgeon, you should be more than proud to display this item, as others you know have done. So, your own piece begins its migration from the upper shelf where it has sat out of sight and of mind, to a place of prominence where you, and all who visit you know that in this item you hold great pride.

The “gift of racism” has been passed on by intention. Congrats.

In case you missed the symbolism, that vase is what I equate racism to have been in this country. For decades, exhibiting racial bias has been a characteristic many were forced to hide. Now, it is in vogue to share your feelings by deed or object. Finally, true racists are free to show themselves in the daylight and embrace their prejudices. And, surprisingly, my answer was met with a round of applause not experienced by any other panelist or response that day. Whether or not the response was out of politeness or otherwise, I felt triumphant because I had reached that young woman, and we silently bonded over something that many have never or may never experience. While I didn’t get the chance to speak to the young lady who posed the question, I did get a broad smile and a mimed “thank you for that” from her.

Welcome to the new normal.

August 1948. Lined up for registration
to vote in Georgia Democratic Primary

So, remember the question the Johnson brothers allegedly asked Isaiah Nixon? It was for whom he voted for in that first Democratic primary blacks in Georgia could vote. While it is apparently unknown what Mr. Nixon’s answer was, it can be assumed that it wasn’t the one the Johnson brothers preferred.

In my next entry, I will talk about the man who held the governor’s office for almost 4 terms, his effect on southern politics of that time, and how Mr. Nixon’s death helped light a fire under an organization that is still alive and well today. It’s fascinating, so please come back. And please, feel free to offer comments on this posting. Until next time…make your life the best life it can be.