Pat, you've got the details wrong, and may be missing out on the bigger picture here too.
Here is the most recent Fox News report about the incident, complete with photo of the unrepentant (arrogant, moron) cop who made this ridiculous arrest.
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,534436,00.html
Skip Gates is among the most prominent scholars in the nation, but even he, after a long trip to China, can find himself having trouble opening a jammed door to his own home. It is understandable that he would be indignant at the thought of being arrested in his own home, even after his identity had been verified. In fact it is righteous that he would be indignant.
e.e.cummings wrote years ago about "those cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls." I wonder if it was one of those who panicked at the thought of her African American neighbor--whose presence she surely had to have noticed in the past few years--having to use a little elbow grease to get a stuck door open on returning home from China.
Below is a post from THE NATION talking about Skip Gates. It is kind of long, but it does provide a clearer picture of the man we're talking about here. Also, to get a sense of the man, try reading his book, THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A BLACK MAN. Or maybe try out THE NORTON ANTHOLOGY OF AFRICAN AMERICAN LITERATURE, which he co-edited with Nellie McKay. You'll get a glimpse of what this man is about, and why this arrest was particularly ironic, and perhaps about to become iconic (though I'd argue that Obama's speech likely defused the tension out there by quite a bit).
Here's the post:
___________________
07/21/2009 @ 8:03pm
Skip Gates and the Post-Racial Project
by The Nation
Over the past several days a strange characterization of Professor
Henry Louis Gates, Jr. has emerged. Many are portraying him as a
radical who easily and inappropriately appeals to race as an excuse
and explanation. This image of Gates is inaccurate. In fact, more
than any other black intellectual in the country Professor Henry
Louis Gates, Jr. was an apolitical figure. This is neither a
criticism nor an accolade, simply an observation.
Gates is the director of the nation’s preeminent institute for
African American studies, but he is no race warrior seeking to right
the racial injustices of the world. He is more a collector of black
talent, intellect, art, and achievement. In this sense Gates embodies
a kind of post-racialism: he celebrates and studies blackness, but
does not attach a specific political agenda to race. For those who
yearn for a post-racial America where all groups are equal recognized
for their achievements, but where all people are free to be distinct
individuals, there are few better models than Professor Gates.
Gates is largely responsible for the institutional investment in
African American studies made by premier universities over the past
two decades. Student activists and faculty advocates led the massive
black studies movement of the 1960s; a movement that created
substantial changes in course offerings, faculty recruitment,
administrative structures, and student retention at many state
universities. But the country’s most privileged institutions remained
largely untouched by this populist era of race and ethnic studies.
Rather than relying on techniques that mimicked the Civil Rights
Movement, Gates helped innovate and perfected a market strategy for
African American studies.
Gates used the inherent competitiveness of Ivy League institutions to
create a hyper-elite niche for the very best black academics. His
strategy improved the market value of black intellectuals throughout
the academy and the public sphere. At one point Gates assembled a
“dream team” at Harvard that included professors Cornel West, K.
Anthony Appiah, Michael Dawson, Lawrence Bobo, Evelyn Brooks
Higginbotham, Lani Guinier and William Julius Wilson.
For a fleeting moment Gates was the curator of the world’s best
living museum of black intellectual life. His Harvard cohort sent
other prestigious schools into a competitive scramble to assemble
their own collection, initiating a gilded age of black academia.
Some individuals would have approached this task as a racial mission;
a chance to influence public policy and discourse toward progressive
racial ends. This was not how Gates approached it. His style is more
deliberate and more detached. By my reading, Gates is tremendously
proud of his racial identity, history, and legacy, but he has no
particular political agenda beyond the collection and display of
black greatness, regardless of its political valence. For example,
although their ideologies are profoundly oppositional, Gates finds
both Colin Powell and Louis Farrakhan emblematic of black manhood and
greatness.
Gates frequently compares himself to W.E.B. Du Bois for whom his
institute is named. Aspects of the comparison are apt, but Du Bois,
unlike Gates, was first and foremost, a race man with a political
agenda. In the course of his long, prolific, academic and activist
life Du Bois pursued every imaginable strategy to address America’s
racial inequality. He advocated education, research, patriotic
military service, interracial coalitions, direct advocacy, legal
strategies and journalism. He was first a staunch integrationist and
later a socialist. His self-exile to Ghana was a final expression of
his disillusionment with the American project.
Professor Gates is not disillusioned with the American project. He is
enamored of it. His home casually mixes classic Americana with
protest art of the black Diaspora. His dinner table is rarely
segregated and his Rolodex certainly isn’t. Even his more recent
commitment to genealogy and fascination with the human genome project
is prompted by his delight in uncovering the messy, unexpected,
deeply American stories embedded in black life.
Du Bois was a product of the American racial nadir. He lived at the
hardest moment in our history for black citizens. He was deeply
suspicious of white America and constantly vigilant in his
interactions with white Americans. Gates is possible only in our
present moment.
Du Bois deplored the double consciousness the ripped at the black
soul. Gates is remarkable, in part, because he doesn’t wear a mask
during interracial interactions. Gates is precisely the same man with
an all-black crowd as with a predominately white one. Though he
certainly perceives color he does not make the subtle rhetorical,
political, or self-presentation adjustments that most African
Americans consider both necessary and ordinary.
Gates is invested in black life, black history, black art, and black
literature, but he has managed to achieve a largely post-political
and even substantially post-racial existence.
Then he was arrested in his own home.
The Cambridge police and Professor Gates tell somewhat different
versions of the story. But both sides agree that Gates came home to
find his front door jammed. He used his key to enter by the back
door. He and his driver then pushed at the front door until it
opened. Witnessing this, someone called the police and indicated
there may be a breaking-and-entering in progress. While Gates was on
the phone with a property management company a police officer
arrived. The officer requested identification. Gates produced it.
Even after ascertaining that Gates had not illegally entered the
property, the officer arrested him for disorderly conduct. The
police report asserts Gates yelled and behaved aggressively. Gates
denies this. The charges have been dropped. In short, Gates was
arrested even though the police officer was fully aware that Gates
lived in the home.
In a moment of overzealous policing a young officer in Cambridge
managed to handcuff and detain the living embodiment of post-racial
possibility.
And although Gates maintains “I thought the whole idea that America
was post-racial and post-black was laughable from the beginning,” as
if in a testament to his apolitical sensibilities Gates said in an
interview to TheRoot.com “I would sooner have believed the sky was
going to fall from the heavens than I would have believed this could
happen to me.”
It is hard to imagine many other African American men who would
indicate such surprise. Even President Obama has spoken of the
difficulty in hailing a cab and First Lady Michelle Obama has
expressed her understanding of black men’s vulnerability to random
violence. But Gates seems genuinely surprised and deeply hurt. His
sense of violation and humiliation evokes great empathy, but also
some incredulity about his astonishment with racial bias in the
criminal justice system.
I like and respect Henry Louis Gates, Jr. Although we have had
intellectual and political disagreements he has always welcomed
dissent and encouraged individuality. Our personal connection is not
why I was so devastated to see his mug shot or images of him
handcuffed on his front porch. I was not even distressed because of
class implications that reasoned, “If this can happen to a Harvard
professor then no one is safe.”
My distress is squarely rooted in feeling that I watched the police
handcuff American possibility.
H
Herring405
(view)
Pat, you've got the details wrong, and may be missing out on the bigger picture here too.
Here is the most recent Fox News report about the incident, complete with photo of the unrepentant (arrogant, moron) cop who made this ridiculous arrest.
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,534436,00.html
Skip Gates is among the most prominent scholars in the nation, but even he, after a long trip to China, can find himself having trouble opening a jammed door to his own home. It is understandable that he would be indignant at the thought of being arrested in his own home, even after his identity had been verified. In fact it is righteous that he would be indignant.
e.e.cummings wrote years ago about "those cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls." I wonder if it was one of those who panicked at the thought of her African American neighbor--whose presence she surely had to have noticed in the past few years--having to use a little elbow grease to get a stuck door open on returning home from China.
Below is a post from THE NATION talking about Skip Gates. It is kind of long, but it does provide a clearer picture of the man we're talking about here. Also, to get a sense of the man, try reading his book, THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A BLACK MAN. Or maybe try out THE NORTON ANTHOLOGY OF AFRICAN AMERICAN LITERATURE, which he co-edited with Nellie McKay. You'll get a glimpse of what this man is about, and why this arrest was particularly ironic, and perhaps about to become iconic (though I'd argue that Obama's speech likely defused the tension out there by quite a bit).
Here's the post:
___________________
07/21/2009 @ 8:03pm
Skip Gates and the Post-Racial Project
by The Nation
Over the past several days a strange characterization of Professor
Henry Louis Gates, Jr. has emerged. Many are portraying him as a
radical who easily and inappropriately appeals to race as an excuse
and explanation. This image of Gates is inaccurate. In fact, more
than any other black intellectual in the country Professor Henry
Louis Gates, Jr. was an apolitical figure. This is neither a
criticism nor an accolade, simply an observation.
Gates is the director of the nation’s preeminent institute for
African American studies, but he is no race warrior seeking to right
the racial injustices of the world. He is more a collector of black
talent, intellect, art, and achievement. In this sense Gates embodies
a kind of post-racialism: he celebrates and studies blackness, but
does not attach a specific political agenda to race. For those who
yearn for a post-racial America where all groups are equal recognized
for their achievements, but where all people are free to be distinct
individuals, there are few better models than Professor Gates.
Gates is largely responsible for the institutional investment in
African American studies made by premier universities over the past
two decades. Student activists and faculty advocates led the massive
black studies movement of the 1960s; a movement that created
substantial changes in course offerings, faculty recruitment,
administrative structures, and student retention at many state
universities. But the country’s most privileged institutions remained
largely untouched by this populist era of race and ethnic studies.
Rather than relying on techniques that mimicked the Civil Rights
Movement, Gates helped innovate and perfected a market strategy for
African American studies.
Gates used the inherent competitiveness of Ivy League institutions to
create a hyper-elite niche for the very best black academics. His
strategy improved the market value of black intellectuals throughout
the academy and the public sphere. At one point Gates assembled a
“dream team” at Harvard that included professors Cornel West, K.
Anthony Appiah, Michael Dawson, Lawrence Bobo, Evelyn Brooks
Higginbotham, Lani Guinier and William Julius Wilson.
For a fleeting moment Gates was the curator of the world’s best
living museum of black intellectual life. His Harvard cohort sent
other prestigious schools into a competitive scramble to assemble
their own collection, initiating a gilded age of black academia.
Some individuals would have approached this task as a racial mission;
a chance to influence public policy and discourse toward progressive
racial ends. This was not how Gates approached it. His style is more
deliberate and more detached. By my reading, Gates is tremendously
proud of his racial identity, history, and legacy, but he has no
particular political agenda beyond the collection and display of
black greatness, regardless of its political valence. For example,
although their ideologies are profoundly oppositional, Gates finds
both Colin Powell and Louis Farrakhan emblematic of black manhood and
greatness.
Gates frequently compares himself to W.E.B. Du Bois for whom his
institute is named. Aspects of the comparison are apt, but Du Bois,
unlike Gates, was first and foremost, a race man with a political
agenda. In the course of his long, prolific, academic and activist
life Du Bois pursued every imaginable strategy to address America’s
racial inequality. He advocated education, research, patriotic
military service, interracial coalitions, direct advocacy, legal
strategies and journalism. He was first a staunch integrationist and
later a socialist. His self-exile to Ghana was a final expression of
his disillusionment with the American project.
Professor Gates is not disillusioned with the American project. He is
enamored of it. His home casually mixes classic Americana with
protest art of the black Diaspora. His dinner table is rarely
segregated and his Rolodex certainly isn’t. Even his more recent
commitment to genealogy and fascination with the human genome project
is prompted by his delight in uncovering the messy, unexpected,
deeply American stories embedded in black life.
Du Bois was a product of the American racial nadir. He lived at the
hardest moment in our history for black citizens. He was deeply
suspicious of white America and constantly vigilant in his
interactions with white Americans. Gates is possible only in our
present moment.
Du Bois deplored the double consciousness the ripped at the black
soul. Gates is remarkable, in part, because he doesn’t wear a mask
during interracial interactions. Gates is precisely the same man with
an all-black crowd as with a predominately white one. Though he
certainly perceives color he does not make the subtle rhetorical,
political, or self-presentation adjustments that most African
Americans consider both necessary and ordinary.
Gates is invested in black life, black history, black art, and black
literature, but he has managed to achieve a largely post-political
and even substantially post-racial existence.
Then he was arrested in his own home.
The Cambridge police and Professor Gates tell somewhat different
versions of the story. But both sides agree that Gates came home to
find his front door jammed. He used his key to enter by the back
door. He and his driver then pushed at the front door until it
opened. Witnessing this, someone called the police and indicated
there may be a breaking-and-entering in progress. While Gates was on
the phone with a property management company a police officer
arrived. The officer requested identification. Gates produced it.
Even after ascertaining that Gates had not illegally entered the
property, the officer arrested him for disorderly conduct. The
police report asserts Gates yelled and behaved aggressively. Gates
denies this. The charges have been dropped. In short, Gates was
arrested even though the police officer was fully aware that Gates
lived in the home.
In a moment of overzealous policing a young officer in Cambridge
managed to handcuff and detain the living embodiment of post-racial
possibility.
And although Gates maintains “I thought the whole idea that America
was post-racial and post-black was laughable from the beginning,” as
if in a testament to his apolitical sensibilities Gates said in an
interview to TheRoot.com “I would sooner have believed the sky was
going to fall from the heavens than I would have believed this could
happen to me.”
It is hard to imagine many other African American men who would
indicate such surprise. Even President Obama has spoken of the
difficulty in hailing a cab and First Lady Michelle Obama has
expressed her understanding of black men’s vulnerability to random
violence. But Gates seems genuinely surprised and deeply hurt. His
sense of violation and humiliation evokes great empathy, but also
some incredulity about his astonishment with racial bias in the
criminal justice system.
I like and respect Henry Louis Gates, Jr. Although we have had
intellectual and political disagreements he has always welcomed
dissent and encouraged individuality. Our personal connection is not
why I was so devastated to see his mug shot or images of him
handcuffed on his front porch. I was not even distressed because of
class implications that reasoned, “If this can happen to a Harvard
professor then no one is safe.”
My distress is squarely rooted in feeling that I watched the police
handcuff American possibility.
