The Dovetail

Bullish for automotive design

2009-06-08T08:33:00.000-07:00

Call me what you will... a Pollyanna, a cockeyed optimist, a fool... but I'm beginning to feel a little hopeful about the future of the auto industry. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to diminish the suffering of laid-0ff auto workers, or the millions of people whose jobs depend on the Big Three directly or indirectly. I live in metro Detroit, I am also unemployed and I can say from personal experience that this is a painful and tragic time in American manufacturing.

But could it also be the beginning of something really wonderful? The sale of Saturn to Roger Penske gives me a glimmer of hope. Bear with me for a moment. Prior to the 1960's, when automakers really started to consolidate, there were dozens of individual companies and design teams around the world working furiously to create the next big seller. Even during the Depression era, there were amazing innovations happening in car design: the Volkswagen Beetle, the Rolls Royce Phantom, the Ford V-8 engine, the MG. Preston Tucker built 37 of his fastback sedans. Packard wasn't just the name of a company; it was a man who designed the Super 8 and weathered the Depression with smart economies and innovative design.

Many of these carmakers, like Studebaker, couldn't survive competitive pressures or fell to poor management practices, labor disputes and a lack of long-range planning. But the multitide of smaller companies was fertal ground for car design. The Studebaker coupe gave us a wrap-around rear window and a flatback trunk. It was ridiculed at the time, but had a major influence on designers in the years to come. The Tucker Torpedo had a host of problems, but it brought us fuel injection and disc brakes.

Automotive design left the spare days of the Depression and moved on into the 1950's. Europeans focused on technology and economy; Americans focused on ornate body styling with tailfins and oodles of sparkling chrome. Those things were curtailed after the publication of Ralph Nader's book, Unsafe at Any Speed. And car companies began merging until just a handful of automakers were left by the 1980's.

But here we are again, in one sense. It's a dire economic situation in the US and around the world, and a few of the larger automakers are shedding brands. Hummer is going to a Chinese company, the Canadian company Magna is getting a majority share of GM's Opel, and Roger Penske has agreed to buy Saturn and all its dealerships. Isn't it just possible that we might get some fresh perspectives on the car business with new sets of eyes looking at the problems? GM and Chrysler are trying to slim down in order to remain competitive; does that mean there's room for smaller automakers in the mix?

As we move into the age of hybrids and hydrogen fuel, the more brilliant engineers working on the problem, the better. And maybe, just maybe, new ideas will be able to rekindle the American passion for a well-designed domestic car.

Rock fans better behaved than classical audiences

2009-05-30T09:34:00.000-07:00

For years, there's a particular issue that has rankled me. It has festered inside my consciousness and its now time to lance it, clean it and let it heal. Here it is: many classical music fans are less courteous and more disrepectful than pop music groupies. I sing opera, and for years I've been performing at the Detroit Opera House and other venues around the country. Last week, we finished a run of Bizet's "Carmen" that played to full houses every night. And every night, without fail, when it came time for us to take our bows after singing, dancing and acting for 4 hours, we came on stage to see 25% of the audience walking up the aisles. Their backs were turned to us, and they were rushing to get to their cars as soon as possible.

It takes months to rehearse an opera. Before the vocalists even step into the rehearsal hall, we've spent hours with the score learning the language, practicing difficult vocal lines, and counting rhythms. There are often 40-60 classically trained singers performing on stage, with dozens of highly skilled instrumentalists in the pit. We started rehearsals for "Carmen" in February, including stage combat, dance, and music; we opened in May. The show lasts 4 hours. And after all of that, we come out on stage to acknowledge applause and see the backs of suit jackets as people hurry out of the theatre.

And yet, I've never seen people turn their backs on Aerosmith and rush to the parking lot. Harry Connick, Jr. played 4 encores the last time I saw him because the applause was so enthusiastic. Classical music concerts seem to have the only audience members who think it's ok to walk out early without showing a single iota of appreciation for the effort and skill of the performers.

I decided to do a little research on concert etiquette and I found a number of helpful articles. They all talk extensively about dress, about holding applause until the end of an entire piece, turning off pagers and cell phones, and taking fidgeting children outside. No one wrote, "Applaud for the performers at the end." The writers probably figured that was totally unnecessary. Even my 10-year-old knows he has to stay in his seat until the performers have left the stage for the last time.

So, to all the classical music audiences out there, I have a simple request. Please don't turn your backs on us. We are living, breating humans putting forth our best effort for you, not ipod selections or CD tracks. The extra ten minutes that you save by scurrying up the aisles without applauding is not worth the disappointment we feel when we come out on stage to take a bow and see only the backs of your heads.

An End to Pontiac

2009-04-27T08:12:00.000-07:00

So, Pontiac dies today. So does Hummer, but I imagine I'm not the only one who's not sad to see those obnoxious behemoths disappear from our highways. A recent study from NHTSA showed that Hummers are more likely to survive collisions with smaller cars, and some experts think the answer is to have everyone drive larger cars. I think the lesson there is that these bloated hulks are unsafe on our roads and should be banned. But I digress.

GM is killing its Pontiac line today. The brand is more than 80 years old and its history is filled with colorful anecdotes. Did you know that when Pontiac and Ford were getting their models ready for production in 1949, Ford secretly took spy photos of its competitors cars and redesigned its grilles to look exactly like the Pontiacs? This is the company that fostered John DeLorean before he went on to build a stainless steel car. Pontiac gave us the GTO, the Grand Prix, the Firebird... and most importantly, the Vibe.

The Vibe, you say? What's so special about the Vibe? Well, I'll tell you what's so special about it.... I have one parked in my driveway. For a girl that's driven nothing but Fords since I passed my driver's test in southern California, buying a Pontiac was a major step for me. I was torn... should I really abandon the blue oval and buy into "Pontiac Excitement"? In the end, I was won over by the sensible styling, the Consumer Reports reviews and the great gas mileage. I broke off my life-long relationship with Ford and started afresh with its smaller, scrappier rival.

And now my new love is leaving me behind. Pontiac is disappearing into history and all that I'll have to remember it is my steel grey four-door and a monthly car payment. On the bright side, since they won't be making Pontiacs anymore... maybe I can hold onto mine until it's a collector's item.

A Love Letter to Detroit

2009-01-06T07:07:00.000-08:00

I am losing my job in March. I suppose it's a good thing that I have so much notice, but sometimes it feels like I have a beloved relative in the hospital who is dying slowly. For me, it's not just about losing a job; I may also lose my adopted home city, and it's painful for me.

I am not a native Detroiter: I grew up in Mission Viejo, California, and spent a lot of my formative years visiting my grandparents in Los Angeles. I was living in Flagstaff, Arizona before I moved to the Motor City and believe me when I say there were a lot of raised eyebrows when I announced that I was moving to the "murder capital" where the city bursts into flames every Halloween. But Detroit didn't scare me, and my son was too young to be intimidated by the city's bad reputation. We moved here with open minds and took an apartment in the heart of the inner city. And I fell in love.

And for those who think this is a terrible place to raise kids, I say you are dead wrong. This city has the biggest heart of any in the country. The people have all the sophistication and culture of a major metropolitan area, with the friendliness and sincerity of the rural Midwest. You'll never ride an elevator here with people who pretend you aren't there. Sometimes, they'll launch right into a conversation with you about their dentist or their job, as though you've known them for years.

Detroit is also impossibly rich in history. This city has been important since the days of the French; it has never been insignificant. And all of that history is still here: the forts from pre-Revolutionary days, the Indian burial mounds, the remains of cobblestone streets, the wooden homes of Irish immigrants in Corktown, the burnt skeletons of houses that fell during the riots. You see the opulent mansions of auto executives and the fantastic architecture of the wealthy '20's, right next to a ramshackle apartment house. There's the gleaming dome of a mosque, near the wall that was built to physically separate a white neighborhood from the nearby black families.

For a fairly long period of time, Detroit was the wealthiest city in the country and among the wealthiest in the world. Detroiters surrounded themselves with gorgeous architecture and fabulous landscapes like the sculpture gardens at Cranbrook. They endowed the art museum so that it now has one of the finest collections on the planet. Greenfield Village is amazing, but we also have the first Arab-American historical museum and the Lionel train site. You can skip over to Battle Creek and see how they make Kellogg's cereal (that guy was an interesting character), and then travel north and sled down the sand dunes in Sleeping Bear Park. Everything here is unique, with lots of residents anxious to wax rhapsodical about it history. And I haven't even mentioned the music. Holy moly! Such music....

"That's all well and good," you say, "But Detroit is in a downward slide right now. High unemployment, high foreclosure rates, huge deficits and demoralized industry. Now is a good time to get out." And logic is with you, now is a good time to leave Detroit. But the desperate days of this economic freefall have brought out the best in my neighbors. We are all suffering together. More than a dozen people have asked me if I'm all right this week, and can they help me or my son? When I hear that someone has lost their job, I am there delivering a cassarole and offering my home, my car, my computer or anything that can help get them through.

This is a city that endures. And it endures because of the strong-hearted people that live here. Detroit's motto is "speramus meliora; resurget cineribus:" we hope for better things; it will rise from the ashes. Yes, this is a tough time for Detroit. We've all heard the maxim that when the rest of the country has a cold, Detroit has the flu. But this city has burnt to the ground more than once. It has soared to the heights and plummetted to the depths. But through it all, Detroiters were greeting each other on the street, chatting in elevators, volunteering at churches and investing their all into their love of this city.

I don't want to leave. First of all, I don't think I can sell my house. But I also believe this is an amazing place to live, and to raise a child. I hope my son sees the strength in adversity around him and someday grows up to proudly say that he is from Detroit, where people endure.

Shivering in Detroit

2008-12-31T07:32:00.000-08:00

For the fourth day in a row, I am without power. There are only 20-thousand or so saps left in Michigan shivering in their homes and staring at their blank computer screens, praying the pipes don't freeze. Power outages are kinda fun in the summer, you roam around the house with your flashlights and pretend you're camping. In the winter... no. No hot water, no hot food, and your breath shows when you exhale in your kitchen. Even my beagle with her two layers of fur is shivering on my bed and looking at me with big moist eyes as if to say, "I'm cold. What is the matter with you?"

And at the risk of sounding self-pitying, Detroiters really didn't need this. I mean, talk about kicking a city when it's down. The auto industry is in tatters... unemployment is higher than it was in 1929... the Detroit Lions just became, officially, the worst team in NFL history... and now our power company can't seem to get the heat back on.

Honestly, I understand that there were wind storms last weekend and a lot of lines went down... but FOUR DAYS with no power... REALLY? Yesterday morning I crawled out of my pile of blankets and dialed up DTE to ask them what in hell was going on... and I get this message...

Thank you for calling DTE Energy. We're closed for the national holiday.

First of all New Year's Eve is not a national holiday. And second, since when do you take time off when 20-thousand people have icicles hanging from their noses? My son got a Wii for Christmas that he can't use and he's watching his winter break slip away from him as each day passes. I asked him what he thought of the whole situation. He said, "Can I use swears?" And he then proceeded to rant for five minutes or more, ending by asking permission to go kick the people at DTE.

Thank God, my son is a Detroiter. He understands resilience. You can't live in or around the Motor City without learning how to snap back. In a few weeks, we'll be amused by it all: how we lit 30 candles to try and raise the temperature a few degrees, and how we didn't have to worry about the food in the fridge because it was warmer in there than it was in the living room. When all else fails, Detroiters have each other, our beloved city, and a strong sense of humor. We're already laughing about the Lions... and once our faces defrost, we'll laugh about this, too.

Blacks Hate Gay Marriage?

2008-11-20T08:48:00.000-08:00

Make no mistake, it's not just African-Americans that oppose gay marriage. Even in California, where blacks made up a large portion of voters who approved Proposition 8, there were lots of Latinos and others who marked the box beside "Yes." But I find it particularly odd that so many African-Americans want to deny gays the right to marry.

Granted, the opposition to gay marriage for many blacks is based on religious principles. I have nothing but respect for religious faith. I honor their belief and stand by their right to live, and vote, according to their morals and values. But it hasn't been all that long since it was illegal for a black to marry a white person. My own grandparents had to wed in Tijuana because their union was against the law in California. And many people used the Bible as evidence that miscegenation was an "abomination" and "against God's law." Until 1948, most states in the U.S. enforced "anti-miscegenation" laws, and most of them made it illegal for a white to marry a Native American or an Asian in addition to blacks. But in 1967, the Supreme Court ruled unanimously in Loving v. Virginia that "anti-miscegenation" laws were unconstitutional. Since then, marriage between all races has been constitutionally protected, and society has adapted. None but the most extreme racist groups and indiviuals vehemently oppose interracial marriage.

My question is, had we left the question up to voters in individual states, how many would still prohibit such marriages? 40 years ago, it took a decision from the U.S. Supreme Court to give blacks the right to marry whomever they choose. That constitutionally protected right was not left up to referendum. We did not allow the common citizen to decide whether or not this basic civil right should be accorded to their neighbors, friends and family.

Believe me, I understand how strong the feelings are against gay marriage, and I can even understand some people's discomfort with the idea. I, too, have no desire to kiss a woman in an intimate way and the idea of doing so makes my skin crawl a bit. But no one is asking me to kiss a woman, lie with a woman, or marry a woman. Gays are asking for the right to marry their loved ones so they can enjoy equal protection under the law. Like it or not, the founding fathers granted that protection to all Americans, and they didn't make an exception for homosexuals.

In many states, like California and Connecticut and Massachusetts, the courts have decided that gays have a constitutionally protected right to marry. It's inevitable that passionate advocacy groups will then try to overturn the courts' decisions through the referendum process. I'm sure many people rushed to do the same thing to take rights away from blacks, Asians, and other minorities. For whatever reason, American citizens have never been anxious to give each other rights; instead, they have been more interested in restricting them. But in the eyes of the government, marriage is a legal, contractual relationship. It's a basic civil right, and it shouldn't be granted or abolished by popular vote.

A Little Verklempt

2008-09-03T15:37:00.000-07:00

Believe me when I say that reporters are among the most cynical people in the world. I wasn't like this before I became a journalist. I was optimistic, idealistic, and had perfect faith that the majority of people in public service were good, upstanding citizens with our best interests at heart. Now, having spent the past ten years studying these people, hanging out with them, talking with them and watching them, I believe that most of them are self-serving, opportunistic phonies. Maybe they start out following the path of righteousness, but bit by bit, they give up some of their integrity in order to get elected and stay elected. By the time they are career politicians, not much is left of the young city councilman or school board president that they were.

So, the months between July and November in presidential election years are not my favorite. I get tired of the staged events, the cliche applause lines, the waving American flags and the way candidates are carefully dressed, lit and scripted to appeal to whatever audience they're facing. I went to Barack Obama's Labor Day rally in Detroit with a job to do: get the audience response to his speech, file the story and collect my check.

But as I stood there in the heat, sweating into my headphones and praying for rain, I had a totally unexpected reaction. I looked out over the crowd... tens of thousands of people waiting to see Barack Obama. There were white college students in oxford shirts, black fathers with their kids on their shoulders, Arab-American autoworkers with time off for the holiday... dozens of races, occupations, and faiths were represented. And there they stood, waiting to see a black man from Illinois. And I started to cry.

The past welled up on me rather suddenly. I thought about my great-grandmother, whose father was her white owner on a plantation in Mississippi. I thought about my grandfather, who had to drive to Tijuana to get married because his bride was white and their union was illegal in his home country. I thought about the time that he had to drive without stopping from Los Angeles to Ohio because the white hotels wouldn't take him and the black hotels wouldn't take her. And my grandmother was abandoned by family and friends because she dared to marry a man whose skin was brown. I thought about the kid whose eye I blacked in elementary school because he called me a "nigger."

And then I started to think about how my grandparents would feel if they could be standing in that crowd of thousands, waiting to see the first African-American candidate for president. That's when I began to cry. I was overwhelmed, in every sense of that word. I can't begin to describe how it felt when he stepped onto the platform and a deafening cheer rose up around him. Is this how Catholics felt when they watched John F. Kennedy speak? Is this how they felt in the audience watching Marian Anderson sing at the Lincoln Memorial? I don't think this feeling of hope and joy and sheer wonder has a political affiliation; I don't think it would have mattered if the man at the dais was a Republican or Democrat.

In his acceptance speech, Senator Obama said that his detractors don't seem to understand that his campaign is not about him, but about us. And that's something I can agree with. We are not on the edge of doing something historic; we have done it. And Obama's presence on that stage, as a candidate for president, is something that every American can be proud of, both Democrat and Republican.

I don't know if Barack Obama will become president. I know, sadly, that many people who say they support him will change their minds in the privacy of the voting booth. And it is sad, not because Barack Obama should or should not be president. It's tragic because those people will not vote for him because of the color of his skin, and they will feel guilty about it, and they may not understand where their fear springs from. But they will feel fearful and they will feel guilty, and they won't mark that box next to Obama. And if this man loses because his skin tone is brown, it will be a tragic day for all of us, and for our country.

Who Needs Friends Anyway?

2008-06-25T06:41:00.000-07:00

So, I'm stuck in Los Angeles for a week, basically doing the same thing that I do at home, but now from a new location. And instead of staying at some posh hotel on NPR's dime, I decided to stay with one of my best friends, a guy I've known since high school and have loved ever since. He's a terrible correspondent (I once had to pay $200 to track him down), and the guy most likely to forget your birthday even though it's the same day as his. But he's like my brother and we are completely comfortable together no matter how much time passes between visits.

So when he said that he has to go to court for a driving infraction this week, and then jail, I didn't bat an eyelash. I immediately said, "Well, it's a good thing I'll be there to drive you. When do you need to be there?" A couple of people I know have expressed dismay that I'm driving my friend to jail for a DUI without lecturing him about drinking. "Let him take a cab," one said and from another, "I wouldn't be involved with that at all if I were you." WHAT?#!$%^&* Clearly, we have widely divergent definitions of friendship.

Before I rave about it, though, let me say that I can understand that point of view to a certain extent. Driving while drunk is stupid, it's irresponsible and drunk drivers have caused untold tragic deaths. It shouldn't be taken lightly. But if going to jail for it doesn't make him realize the gravity of the situation, how will taking the bus help? Seriously. He's going to say, "Oh 48 hours in the stir avoiding violent men with tattoos didn't phase me at all, but hearing you say that I'm a schmuck has really changed my mind." Get real.

And I realize that our friends are often in the best position to talk openly about our mistakes, to point out when and where we've gone astray, and to do it in a way that we will listen to and, perhaps, take to heart. There have been times when my friends have told me I was behaving badly and I've been grateful. Irritated, but grateful in the end. But that's reserved for times when I'm wearing plaid pants with Converse sneakers or trying to pick up on a guy by giggling and batting my eyelashes. That's when I need my friends; that's when a friend needs to step in. Not when I'm on my way to the Big House.

At this point, the best I can do for my friend is support him through what must be a terrifically difficult time (and it doesn't make it easier that he's at fault -- it makes it much worse). So, yes, I will drive him to court and I will drive him to jail and I will bring him books and cupcakes while he's in there, if they'll let me. No lectures, no scoldings, just "Where do I need to be and for how long?"

The time for lectures will come if this ever happens again.

Love From Afar

2007-12-18T09:22:00.000-08:00

Long distance relationships. If you've been in one before, you know... they're not fun. The problem is, you can't win with a long distance relationship. Because you're only communicating by email, text message or phone, misunderstandings abound. And when something goes wrong and feelings are hurt, you can't hold the person and kiss them and make it all better. And let's save the discussion of sexual frustration for some other time.

The reason I bring this up, of course, is that I am in a LDR. My boyfriend lives 1384 miles south of me in Florida and I see him once a month if I'm very lucky and have behaved myself. If I wasn't serious about him, it wouldn't matter. I would happily live without him most of the time and enjoy the brief fly-in visits whenever I could. But that's the catch-22, isn't it? The only reason anyone would suffer through a LDR is if they really care about the person and think the relationship has a serious future. But having strong emotions for someone makes it really difficult to live without them 95% of the time.

Which brings me to the whole sex thing... I realize I'm getting older, but that hasn't seemed to diminish my need to be touched and held. It's actually not difficult for me to go without sex for very long periods of time (I'm talking years) when I'm not in love with someone. Now, I have found someone that I long for, and I guess I'll keep on longing, because no human arms in the world can span 1384 miles.

And then let's talk about planning for the future. It's impossible to really devote yourself to the relationship until you live in close proximity; but you probably won't move house and home to another state until you're sure that this is the one, right? How long do you stay in a LDR before you feel certain enough to move? Another dilemma.

There are a few bright spots, of course, especially for a woman. I talk to my guy for hours every day, and he has to listen because that's the only contact he gets with me. How many girls can say that their boyfriend talks to them for 10 hours at a time? It's pretty nice. Also, our relationship started over the internet, so I wasn't distracted and put off by personal appearance. (Although, as it turns out, he's very attractive.) It's been like an old-fashioned romance in which we spent a great deal of time getting to know each other before we even addressed the possibility that we might be attracted to one another. I probably know more about him at five months than guys that I have dated in person for a year.

All that is very nice, but it hardly mitigates the overall horror of a LDR. I've been involved in two of these nightmares before, and swore I would never do it again. Let's be honest: I swore I would never be in a relationship again, and prepared myself to spend the next 50 years alone. Now, I have not only taken the plunge once more, but the object of my affection lives in the back of beyond. Sometimes, I think I'm not so smart.

In case you, too, are also cursed with a LDR, here are a few tips on how to survive, from the female perspective. The most obvious is that communication is a must. LDRs make people feel insecure. They have strong feelings with no outlet, and they are constantly wondering if their loved one still feels the same, is getting bored, is having second thoughts, has found someone else who lives in the same zip code. So, LDR people have to use every communication method at their disposal. Don't just call: send emails, pictures, texts and head down to the drugstore every week to buy a card. Digital communication is great, but nothing beats an actual object from your beloved that you can hold in your hands.

Also, quite obviously, never overlook an opportunity to meet face-to-face. Neuropsychiatrist Louann Brizendine writes about separation in her fascinating book, The Female Brain: "During times of physical separation, when touching and caressing is impossible, a deep longing, almost a hunger, for the beloved can set in. Some people don't even realize how bonded or in love they are until they feel this tugging at their heartstrings when the beloved is absent. We are used to thinking of this longing as only psychological, but it's actually physical... The act of hugging or cuddling releases oxytocin in the brain, especially in females, and likely produces a tendency to trust the hugger. It also increases the likelihood that you will believe everything and anything he tells you... Touching, gazing, positive emotional interaction, kissing and sexual orgasm also release oxytocin in the female brain. Such contact may just help flip the switch on the brain's romantic love circuit." This oxytocin phenomenon only lasts for six to eight months in a relationship, the so-called "early phase". So, it's extremely important to do as much hugging and kissing as possible while the female brain is still open and receptive to trusting her partner and believing everything he says. Any married man will tell you, that condition doesn't last all that long.

One more small tip: don't let problems build up. Address issues immediately. In a relationship blessed by close proximity, you can smooth over conflicts with some well-timed hugging, kissing and oxytocin injections. In a LDR, you don't have that luxury. So, you have to defuse potential problems as soon as they arise, without mulling it over or just letting it go. Believe me, it will come back to haunt you in the end. Get it out, and get it over.

I suppose the best aspect of a LDR is that, if you can survive the separation, you can probably survive anything. Research shows that people who live together before marriage are much more likely to get divorced. So, perhaps the space is a good thing.

Sure doesn't feel like it, though.

You Can Lead Me to the Altar, But You Can't Make Me Marry

2007-07-05T11:41:00.000-07:00

I just finished a story for NPR about the so-called "marriage gap" in the U.S. According to census statistics, wealthy, highly-educated people are much more likely to get married and stay married than the poor and poorly schooled. You can ask why we should care, and the experts can answer that, too: children.

As it happens, the children of single parents are less likely to go to college, more likely to get arrested, more likely to end up on the welfare system, and more likely to have mental health problems, including suicide. A senior fellow at the Brookings Institution told me that, if Americans really loved their children, they would get married and stay married.

Frankly, I was off-put. After all, I am a single mother who cares deeply for her son, and I certainly want to do the best for my kid. I've had at least a few chances to get married... perhaps more. Should I have simply walked down the aisle and provided a live-in father for my son? And am I continuing to do him harm by not searching for a mate and accepting the next reasonable proposal that I get?

Believe me, I'm not opposed to marriage. I would love to be married, and it's perhaps my deep respect for the institution that has made me hesitate to take that leap in the past. I often say I'd rather be 37 and unmarried, than 37 and divorced. I have loved deeply, but stopped short of marrying anyone that I've been with because I eventually came to the conclusion that life together for 40-50 years wouldn't work. But perhaps I've been too picky: too quick to break it off, to slow to forgive.

Thank God I'm a reporter, paid to look deeply into issues like this, gain a nuanced view of statistics, and put facts into context. Because the simple fact is: all of those statistics about the children of single parents is also true about children who grow up in poverty.

"Ninety percent of single-parent families are headed by females. Not surprisingly, single mothers with dependent children have the highest rate of poverty across all demographic groups . Approximately 60 percent of U.S. children living in mother-only families are impoverished, compared with only 11 percent of two-parent families... When income is considered, substantially fewer differences arise between the intellectual development, academic achievement, and behavior of children in single-parent and two-parent families. Lack of income has been identified as the single most important factor in accounting for the differences in children from various family forms (from "Single-parent Families in Poverty" by Jacqueline Kirby, Ohio State University)."

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm hardly making a lot of money. But I'm firmly in the middle class, and my son never wants for food, clothes, school equipment, swimming lessons or birthday parties. (This year's party is at Dave and Buster's.) What's more, I do the best I can at giving him plenty of attention (probably too much) and enough discipline (probably not enough). I think he's a well-adjusted, smart, happy kid. Having a father in the house may have been better for him, but having two parents living together who were not in love would be immeasurably worse.

So, I'll take my time in finding the right husband. I hope it happens soon, and I can picture myself happily saying yes to the right guy, and being a great wife. But in the meantime, I think the best I can do for my son is to take my time, enjoy my life, and wait until I find the best husband for his mother. And no guilt trip dished out by conservative scholars is going to change my mind.

White Men Are Resentful and Blacks Need to Care

2007-07-03T12:27:00.001-07:00

I had a really interesting conversation with my ex last night and it made me wonder. We started talking about racism (not surprising in the racially charged environment around Detroit), and he was trying to make me understand how his white friends feel. He said many of his friends are angry over affirmative action, because they feel it robs them of opportunities, or gives an advantage to a black student with lower grades and fewer achievements. As most of us know, the benefits of affirmative action in admissions do not outweigh the benefits of being the child of an alumnus, going to a wealthy suburban school, or having the money to participate in after-school activities like Girl Scouts, team sports, or 4H.

But I don't think he was trying to argue the facts. He was trying to help me understand that his friends are angry and defensive, and they're not willing to listen to statistics. So, it's ridiculous for me to sit smugly in my living room, convinced of my "rightness", and write them off as racists. I don't think they're prejudiced, but my friend thinks they will become racist if they continue to feel that blacks are separating themselves and demanding special treatment.

First of all, let me be clear about where this argument is coming from. My friend is totally without prejudice and, in fact, voted in favor of affirmative action when it was on the ballot in Michigan. Be careful not to fall into the trap of assuming that everyone that raises issues over racial preferences is a racist. That's simply not true, and those kind of knee-jerk reactions cause more problems than they solve.
There's a great book by Dee Royster called "Race and the Invisible Hand." In it, Royster talks about this very issue, this perceived harm that white men feel, even though they have more advantages in American society than any other group. Here's what she had to say:

My quantitative data demonstrated no significant differences between black and white men on cognitive measures (standardized reading and math scores), grade point averages, measures of preparedness and motivation and character (like willingness to take low-level service jobs), yet only four of the 25 black men I studied achieved high success (three in fields outside of those they originally studied)—16 out of 25 of the their white peers achieved high success (six within their original fields of study).

The white men whom I interviewed lived and socialized almost exclusively with other whites, and they believed that blacks were being helped by affirmative action at great cost to whites. They simply were not in a position, residentially or psychologically, to see and understand that blacks as qualified as they suffered in the labor market while they were doing quite well. There is an irony that I found striking. Not one of the young white men I interviewed expressed deeply malicious attitudes toward blacks (like those common in the past), yet most were convinced that they were at a distinct disadvantage within a labor market that was dominated by older white men whom they knew and relied upon.

I agree that younger men are not racist in the way their fathers and grandfathers may have been. But it's troubling that they can't see the structure of our society, and all of the benefits they enjoy simply because they were born with light skin. Those advantages were blatant during the Jim Crow days. Now, they're subtle, easy to miss, and probably more dangerous. If white guys can't see the preferential treatment they enjoy and can't understand their own dominance, then of course they will get angry when they're asked to sacrifice for the benefit of blacks, or even women.

Again, I can quote statistics until I'm blue in the face. For example, the average white baby boomer will inherit $65,000 while the average black baby boomer will inherit $8,000. White home buyers are twice as likely to receive family assistance in purchasing a home as blacks, so home ownership among whites overall is 63.8% and is 41.6% for Blacks, a 22% gap. These facts are part of a great essay about affirmative action that you can read here: http://www.inmotionmagazine.com/pkivel4.html.

But what seems clear after my conversation last night, is that statistics are not helping. Just as with almost any issue associated with race, people are making decisions based on their emotions instead of fact-based knowledge. And this brings me to my main point: I think some members of the African-American community are making this situation worse.

Here's why I say that (and give me a moment before you get angry and stop reading): too many blacks are trying to establish their own separate identity. They're allowed to say "nigger" while whites are not; they deride white people who try to rap; they feel it's all right to refer to whites as "crackers," "Albinos," "Anns" and any number of other offensive terms. My friend says even something as seemingly inconsequential as "Miss Black USA" is irritating because whites would never dream of creating a "Miss White USA." (Never mind that the Miss America pageant has been white-washed for too long.)

Don't get me wrong: I understand the need to have something of our own. Blacks are still victims of terrible prejudice and invidious racism. They are still shut out of schools and jobs, and they're still at a ridiculous disadvantage in almost every aspect of society. I empathize with the desire to thumb our noses at whites and do it ourselves. But I also agree with my friend that, right or wrong, we're alienating the younger generation by doing that. We're taking a terrible wrong and making it "wronger."

We have an opportunity with the younger generation. They're more open-minded, more liberal, more tolerant and more accepting, on the whole. At this point, we're not going to change the minds of our fathers and grandfathers, but we can ensure a better future by establishing bonds of brotherhood among those who are untainted, as of yet, by racial hatred.

I know, I know.... racism is real and it's violent and it's dangerous. And many young people, even elementary schoolers, are learning it from their parents as we speak. But let's not get frightened by the problem and start erecting barricades and mine fields. Let's enlist allies and form partnerships that will grow our like-minded army until we simply outnumber the bad guys.

And if you're interested in another great post about Affirmative Action, click here:
http://seamonkey.ed.asu.edu/~mcisaac/emc598ge/Unpacking.html

Hatred Hard to Hide in Disney Hall

2007-06-19T12:17:00.000-07:00

For three weeks, I participated as a Fellow in the USC/Annenberg Getty Arts Journalism program and I had the opportunity to hear music in Disney Concert Hall on three occasions. Twice, I heard the LA Philharmonic and I watched a fairly alarming performance of the Philadelphia Orchestra.

What made the latter so alarming was the almost tangible hatred passing between the musicians and the conductor, Christoph Eschenbach. Eschenbach was appointed music director in 2003 and he was always a controversial choice because of the reported "bad chemistry" between him and every single player in the orchestra. Eschenbach is leaving the group next year, amid a maelstrom of angry recriminations and bitter complaints in elevators, hallways, and green rooms. The tension was so bad while they were on tour that, reportedly, the musicians actually refused to rehearse in Disney Hall before the concert. They took the stage without once practicing in the space. Pretty stunning for a world-class orchestra.

Here's the thing, though: in any other hall, this dispute would have been nothing but lively intermission fodder. Audience members would sit in the hall, looking from afar at the musicians on their proscenium, picture box stage, and they would get the same amount of enjoyment from the music as they would if the performance were a love-fest between the podium and the strings. But in Disney Hall, where the audience is seated in a circle around the stage, above the stage, just a few feet from the players, the performance was excruciating. I had to close my eyes to block out the image of resentful cellists and grim-faced trumpet players.

They say Disney Hall may be the model for the future of all concert halls around the world, and there are lots of proposed structures that take cues from Gehry's steel masterpiece. (There was a wonderful article about this in the New York Times on June 3rd.) But if it is the model, and orchestras must regularly play in this configuration, then some things will have to change. No more blank-faced musicians; they're going to have to emote and refrain from making faces when they (or someone else) misses a cue. No more angry conductors; the age of the "angry Toscanini" is over. Music directors will be facing the audience no matter which way they turn and they're going to have to literally put a good face on whatever happens during the concert.

And there's another thing that may change, this time related to the crystal clear acoustics in Disney. The beauty of the sound there is that you can hear absolutely everything; the problem is you can hear absolutely everything. Every weakness in the score is exposed. Mediocre music becomes even more mediocre and atonal music seems even more jarring. I heard the LA Phil play Lutoslawski's "Concerto for Orchestra" this month and I was stunned to realize that I couldn't bear to listen to it. At one point, the celesta repeats a high note over, and over, and over, and over.... and I wanted to throw a rock at the woman to make her stop. In Disney Hall, the repetitions were much to present, something I'd never really heard in other concert halls.

We may be entering another golden age of concert hall design, as the Times suggests. But I sure hope it's followed by a golden age of performance practices on the part of our orchestral musicians. Otherwise, I'm going to spend a lot of time listening to music with my eyes closed.

No More Black History Month

2007-06-19T11:07:00.000-07:00

Metro Detroit is the most segregated area in the U-S. Everyone knows that here. I grew up in California and moved here from Arizona. I didn't know that. But everybody knows it here. Every so often, another research group will crunch the numbers again, and Metro Detroit comes out on top again.

And the Free Press and the Detroit News and Channel 7 and WDET will do a series of reports on segregation that talk a lot about the riots and Coleman Young... as if those events didn't happen almost 40 years ago, but yesterday.

Here in Metro Detroit, we've all heard about segregation so many times, we're sick of it. Hearing about segregation elicits dull feelings of anger and helplessness in us. What can we do about it? You can't force people to live where they don't want to live, or can't afford to live. And besides, I feel integrated. I feel integrated. The faces of my friends are black, white, brown and pink.

Some who live in Macomb County say it's not about black or white - it's about Detroit. Detroit has a myriad of problems. The streetlights don't work, there are ugly, unsafe abandoned buildings everywhere, the schools aren't great and the insurance rates are high. No one wants to live in Detroit, they say. African-Americans just have less money; they would move out if they could. Really.

Honest to God, I have met people on airplanes – who have no idea if I live in Michigan or not - and when I ask where they're from, they answer, "St. Clair Shores."

Let me tell you, I grew up in Mission Viejo, Orange County, but I was still from LA in the eyes of the world. And if you reside within 60 miles of where I'm now standing, you live in Detroit. You are all Detroiters. We are all Detroiters.

Segregation is like the proverbial elephant in the living room that everyone ignores while the cocktail party goes on. Metro Detroit is the most segregated area in the U-S. Do you care? You should. To my mind, we should all be waking up each morning and going to bed every night wondering what we can do to fix this. Because something is broken. Segregation is not some harmless statistic that we talk about during a game of Trivial Pursuit. "What's the most highly segregated area in the country?" "Detroit. And did you know they also eat the most potato chips per capita there?" No, uh-uh. If segregation weren't dangerous, our ancestors - and I mean the ancestors of us all - would not have risked life, limb and fortune fighting to end it in the South, in the East, in the West and right here in Detroit.

In case you are unaware, let me just get you up to date on the cost of segregation. Research shows us that there is a negative correlation between the degree of racial segregation in a metropolitan area and the economic success of its African American population.

But it's not just blacks that pay the price. Whites pay higher prices for similar housing, face long commutes and widening sprawl. For whites and blacks alike, children learn in homogenous schools, and some find discomfort in diversity while employers increasingly seek and embrace it.
Evidence indicates that racial segregation reduces the educational attainment, wages, and likelihood of marriage among blacks. Researchers have speculated about the ways that segregation may undermine the economic achievement of minorities. As John Kain noted, segregation may result in a "spatial mismatch" between where blacks live and where the vast majority of appropriate job opportunities exist. Katherine O'Regan and John Quigley instead stress the social isolation produced by segregation: the harm of segregation is that it creates a barrier that prevents information about job opportunities from flowing from white and more affluent populations to black and more economically deprived populations.

Evidence also shows that because of higher poverty rates among blacks, racial segregation means that blacks live in neighborhoods with higher poverty. And neighborhoods with higher poverty may have powerful negative effects on the social and economic outcomes of residents, due perhaps to peer effects or social networks.

There's also a link between racial segregation and the health of African Americans. In more segregated neighborhoods and metropolitan areas, African Americans have been found to suffer higher rates of homicide, suicide, infant mortality, and overall age-adjusted mortality. There is even evidence that the a black mother is 11 percent more likely to have a Low Birth Weight child if she lives in a highly segregated area.

Of course, it's not all negative. Segregation can also benefit minorities. For example, it may provide greater political power, as well as improved services, to minority communities as a result. Racial segregation may also mean that black mothers live in communities where they enjoy stronger social networks and support.

More important than all this statistical evidence, though, is the common sense conclusion that segregation perpetuates racial prejudice. We tend to distrust the things that we don't understand. If we live apart from people, if we have no knowledge of another culture, how can we understand them? The further we live from them, the stranger they start to look. If Metro Detroit is one of the most segregated areas in the country, can we say that it may be one of the most prejudiced? Because I am what people call "very high yellow" and I can easily "pass," I get the opportunity to hear all kinds of comments about Detroit and about black people. Comments that people would never make if they knew that I'm descended from slaves. I would argue that segregation and prejudice go hand in hand. Metro Detroit is the most segregated area in the U-S. I say again, in our neighborhoods, whites are choosing to live near whites, blacks near blacks. Hispanics live in Southwest Detroit and Arabs live in Dearborn. This is not Disneyland with Fantasyland over here and Tomorrowland and Adventureland over there. This is how we live. This is where we live.

I'm sure you're wondering what all of this has to do with Black History Month. The two are inextricable in my opinion, because Black History Month is about segregation, too. Aaron Copland was an American composer, or a 20th century composer. My grandfather, who was part black, part Cherokee, Choctaw, Spanish, and Scotch-Irish... he was an African-American composer.

His music is trotted out during Black History Month so we can pay tribute to black history. But what is black history? Seriously, this is not a rhetorical question. Is black history the history that was made by blacks only? Or is it history that only affects blacks? And how do we define black anyway? How black do you have to be to be really black? To my mind, black history does not exist. It doesn't exist because there is no history that can be separated, or segregated, down racial lines. There is only human history.

Simply consider what African-Americans have contributed to our country and to the world, and you'll see what I mean. Harriet Tubman. Most of us know she led about 300 slaves to freedom in the north. But did you know she also served as a spy for the Union Army? She served for almost four years, and they say she was an incredible scout, talented at finding Confederate fortifications. Although she received an official commendation from Union officers, by the way, she was never paid for her services. Now, whose history is that? Black history? I imagine white people can be as proud of her as black people, and what she did affected us all.

Charles Drew - the man who discovered the modern process for preserving blood for transfusions. When the U-S entered World War II, he was appointed head of the National Blood Bank system. But he was outraged that black blood could only go to blacks, and white blood could only go to whites, and he quit. But everyone in the world who has given blood, or has received blood during medical treatment, owes a great deal to Dr. Charles Drew.

That's not black history. That's our history. That's human history. Benjamin Banneker. A mathematician, an astronomer, a surveyor, and an essayist. He built the first clock totally constructed in America. He also helped lay out the streets and buildings of Washington, DC. Seems to me that many politicians are walking on so-called "black history" every day of their white lives.

Thomas Edison is considered to be one of the world's greatest inventors. White guy, you may have heard of him. But Lewis Latimer, son of a runaway slave, worked for Edison and Alexander Graham Bell as an electrical engineer. It was Latimer's idea to use the fine carbon wire inside that actually lights up in a light bulb. So, every time we turn on a light, even if it's not in February, we're encountering black history.

Garrett Morgan invented the safety helmet-breathing device that firemen used in his time. Using that device, he and his brother saved more than two dozen men trapped under Lake Erie when a tunnel exploded. Morgan also invented the traffic light. His achievements, and his bravery, are something we can all be proud of, in the same way that we're proud of Charles Lindbergh.

The real "McCoy." Today, that phrase means "the real thing, the original, the good stuff." It comes from an invention of Elijah McCoy. McCoy was born in 1843 to former slaves. He invented a device that automatically oiled machinery. It revolutionized manufacturing. He was the real McCoy and he was black. But when I looked up great inventors on the internet, I found him mentioned, for the most part, only on sites devoted to African-American inventors. Did you know that a slave by the name of Oneissimus invented an antidote for smallpox in 1721? That's American history, that's world history and that is human history. Can we only celebrate Alexander Graham Bell during Scotch American history month? George Washington was born to English parents. Do we need an English-American history month?

And believe me, I can almost hear what many of you are thinking out there, that we don't have to set aside time to talk about Bell or Washington or Lindbergh. As white males, they have gotten their time in the sun by default. Blacks, on the other hand, have been left out of history textbooks on purpose. In many cases, whites have even preempted their achievements for themselves. Blacks have been left out of history in this country, and Black History Month was started to remedy that problem.

It began in 1926 as Negro History Week. In 1976, it became Black History Month. February was chosen because it contains the birthdays of both Frederick Douglass and Abraham Lincoln. The goal of Black History Month, though, taken directly from the literature available from the U-S Department of State, is that one day "the sharing and contribution of all Americans in America will be so appreciated, accepted and understood that there will be no further need for any ethnic group to call attention to its contributions and exploits for the good of the country." Amen.

As we all know, especially here in Metro Detroit, that day is so far in the future, we can't even see the tunnel, let alone the light at the end. So, in many ways, Black History Month is still necessary. But we must never lose sight of the fact that it is unreal, a strange illusion. By establishing Black History Month, we have allowed people to be complacent about the inequality in history textbooks. There haven't been any massive drives to overhaul public school curriculum or integrate teaching about black history into lessons outside of February, because many feel they are paying their debt to African-Americans by giving them a whole month. Every year. Think of it.

But for those of us who are not complacent, and who realize that our lives today are the direct result of efforts by Europeans, African-Americans, Hispanics, Asians, Russians, Africans, Native Americans, South Americans, and all the rest of our ancestors, Black History Month is a call to action.

It’s a reminder that we have a lot of work to do. History cannot be segregated, any more than neighborhoods should be. Segregation ended legally quite some time ago, let's help reality catch up to the law. There is no black history. There is only human history. Let's all work toward the day when Black History Month is a thing of the past.