Monthly Archives: May 2008

Regarding Fear of the Other

My friend James over at the arc of time recently made an interesting post called “minority” that discusses the social dynamics as relates to race. James is a white guy living in Atlanta that began using the public transit system almost exclusively a few months ago. Aside from being a racially and socioeconomically atypical public transit rider in Atlanta, there is much irony in this. James, you see, owns a BMW X5. This may make him the only man on Earth that owns such a nice vehicle and yet chooses to ride the bus. It gives you some indication of just how excruciating Atlanta traffic can be. Do I miss it? Um, no. In morning rush hour here I have rocketed all of the way from my Uptown apartment to my office just south of DFW airport in 22 minutes. The same achievement in Atlanta would require a helicopter.

But I digress. James touches on some pretty sensitive subjects as regards to race, feelings of safety, etc. Essentially, he admits that while considering himself pretty enlightened, it has taken a long while to overcome feelings that imply a sense of danger when he is among many black people as the only white guy, or one of a very few.

You know how when you read something that contains a novel idea you start applying that concept to everything? I find myself doing that with James’ topic here. Over many years I have read some great writing on how the brain is wired. One of the many things you can glean from them is this – there are far more behaviors that are hard-wired into our biology than we readily accept. It is possible for our minds to overcome them, but only with lots of effort effort.

I bet that group dynamic behaviors as relates to race are like this. If you very obviously “don’t belong” in your environment as compared to everyone else around you I bet there are some really deep seated parts of the brain that whisper things like “Watch out!” and “Be alert!” simply because if you rewind the clock far enough into the past, simple differences much more subtle than skin coloring did in fact mean imminent threats to survival. Like it or not, we humans are primates. I think it is instructive to note that there thorough observations from Jane Goodall documenting troops of chimpanzees fighting what can only be described as wars of genocide. Their biological allegiance is not to “chimpanzee kind” but to their troop of chimpanzees. We humans think that all chimpanzees look alike. Apparently the chimps beg to differ.

Take a chimp from Troop A and drop him into a clearing full of chimps from Troop B and you’ve got yourself one very, very frightened chimp. Imminent threat to his survival is simply a cold fact and his biology knows it. The chimps that failed to perceive that threat got weeded out a very long time ago.

Now cut to James walking down Broad Street. His neocortex knows that he faces very little risk from his fellow humans around him, despite the fact that his skin is white and theirs is black. It can grasps statistics, prior experience walking down Broad Street, prior positive experiences interacting with black people, that physical threat could just as easily come to him from a white person, etc., etc.

But his lower brain? The medulla, the limbic system? They don’t know any of those things. They know mostly the same things that the chimp knows, and they don’t like what they see. James’ hair stands up. His pulse quickens. His eye movement increases. Deep under the mountain of his rational mind, James’ own private NORAD senses danger. The airspace above Canada is clear but the general staff nudges the threat level up to DEFCON 3 anyway. Something about those Russkies has them nervous today.

And that’s just the way it is.

But because James does have a rational mind, he does not run away to the “safety” of a crowd of white people. His somewhat embarrassed neocortex over-rides the limbic system and the medulla. “I can take care of this one guys,” it says.

This process is critical to the things that we call culture and civilization, and it is indeed an enlightenment. We fight base biological impulses all of the time. It’s why most every person that’s ever had a job has been able to avoid being fired for punching the boss, or a co-worker, or a customer. Generally it’s why we humans can defer various gratifications, or deny them when they come at the unfair expense of others. At least we can when we try.

Our rational minds enable us to be much more than what our base biology would otherwise allow. But it’s not always easy, and it’s not always fully within our control. Our higher brains can make the decision to keep riding the bus, but other parts of our minds still exercise enormous influence over our adrenal glands.

Those facts in and of themselves are not a failure of character and they do not make us racist. They only make us human. To be a racist you have to either give yourself over to those lower impulses, or otherwise build a world view by construction rationalizations which say that those lower impulses are actually correct.

Of course it complicates matters when statistics tell us that the larger measure of violence in American society are perpetrated by young black men. This makes the case still harder for the neocortex to argue. But not impossible. I think that this is not only why James can ride the bus, but why he can be honest and open regarding his feelings about the experience.

When it comes to feelings of fear created by things like loud noises, falling, reptiles, etc. we all seem to be able to accept the idea that this is wired into us for reasons related to survival. But when we reflect on reasons why we fear each other, we either seem to have trouble accepting that our wiring is what it is, and that we should congratulate ourselves when we can and do undertake the effort to overcome those limitations.

At Home on the Range

Last Thursday night I was catching up with a colleague of mine from our London office who is here in Dallas on an extended assignment. In the course of casual conversation it came up that he was planning to head to the range over the weekend to try his new pistol. A ha! Finally I had someone to go to the range with.

I really enjoy going, but I don’t own my own pistol yet and it is rare that I find someone who is interested in shooting up some paper targets. I leaped at the chance. On Friday after quitting time we headed to the DFW Gun Range on Mockingbird lane. My colleague and a friend of his who is getting her concealed handgun license were already there with a couple of lanes. I joined them inside after getting some ear and eye protection and the three of us took turns loading magazines and firing his and her pistol.

She had a smallish 9mm Glock of a type which I had fired several times before. His new pistol was a beauty. It was a Sig Sauer P226 X-5. The thing has a 19 round clip, adjustable sights, plenty of heft and only a 2 pound pull on the trigger. One word – wow!

Despite the fact that I get to shoot only rarely, I’m not bad at all. But this pistol put me in an entirely new category. At the range of 20 yards I was able to make a pattern at least as tight as the one shown here, and sometimes better.

For those of you that haven’t ever fired a pistol on a target range, let me tell you – 20 yards is a long damned way to shoot a handgun with any accuracy. It’s not uncommon to see newcomers miss the target pattern entirely at half that distance. At close up ranges of seven yards or so I was able to shred the center of the target. Considering that most self defense with a handgun takes place at ranges of less than three yards, I very much doubt that any attacker approaching me with that pistol in my grip would survive my first shot.

I left the range with a whole new respect for the difference that the quality of a weapon can make.

Different Worlds

When I was with my daughter’s classmates on their field trip last week I found myself plunged into a world that I have experienced in the smallest of slices and even then only rarely owing to the fact that I am not her custodial parent. It is the mode of life where kids, their activities and their experiences have a profound place in the everyday schedule of the adults around them. Every one of the adults that shared a chaperon role with me on the trip was from that world. Everyone was either a parent of one of the kids, a teacher for many of the children, or both. Everyone, that is, except for me.

In addition to that, all of the adults present were also people that not only lived in north Georgia but in many cases had even grown up there. One of them had actually attended the grade school that my daughter goes to today. All of them had deep roots in the same small town.

Having flown in from the big city of Dallas almost a thousand miles away, I was a bit of a Person of Interest to the rest of the group. As small town southerners so often are, my fellow parents were unfailingly polite and unassuming. Fortunately for me I had enough in common with them to not be entirely an odd man out. I grew up in a small town in South Carolina after all, and even though I have not lived anywhere like that place in more than twenty years now, I still feel perfectly at home when I visit one.

But it is very different. You can find materialistic people anywhere, but it sure seems like there is less focus on things and more on people and relationships when you are amongst folks that are not steeped in the hustle of a major metropolitan area. Conversations were mostly dominated by issues of child rearing, schools, family ties going back generations, and other matters that had not a thing to do with the latest model cars, country club memberships, houses worth less than their mortgage notes, careers that progress by scattering families across state lines and even hemispheres.

And that’s fine with me. Never having belonged comfortably within the ladder climbing set, I have cared little for keeping up with the Joneses. While I have at times had very ambitious financial goals, I stopped holding them at heart in the hopes of one day impressing other people many years ago.

Still, I was a visitor amongst these teachers, parents and grandparents. I have not had the experience of living daily with the upbringing of kids, watching them and their interactions with their peers mature, shuttling them between their daily after school activities, weaving the fabric of the community in which they live. Mine has been a different way. I have participated mostly from a distance, but as regularly as I can. I said very little, mostly just listening to their cares, taking in their views, reflecting on what it might have been like to live among them as my daughter matured to the present day. It is a singular experience to witness something that you know you will never be part of, and although that may make the experience sound melancholy, it wasn’t. I was glad for it. It helped to remind me how much more my little girl is than the person I get to spend time with a couple of weekends per month.

Speaking of the kids, we had the occasion to spend lots of unstructured time with them on the chartered bus that carried us around. Plenty enough to see their world up close too. It is at least as different from that of their parents as mine is – probably more. We observed their preferred activities uninterrupted on the bus rides.

Half of them had cell phones. One set of siblings spoke to their mother at least several times a day before I lost count. Many of the phones had cameras in them and they got used fairly often. More than a few kids had Nintendo DS game machines – “DS” for short. These things do much more than play games – somehow they communicate with one another using built-in wireless networks. Much of the time that the kids were playing with them they were not actually playing games, but chatting with one another using anonymous screen names. Keep in mind, these kids were seated rows apart from one another on a bus when they were chatting. But they also used this chat feature to keep communicating with one another from cabin-to-cabin after each group settled in for the night. How long that went on after lights out I couldn’t tell you – they were pretty sneaky. And the kids had iPods too, lots of them did anyway. I think there were more iPods among the kids than the adults actually. There were scarcely enough power outlets in the cabins for all the recharging that needed to go on when the kids and their batteries were spent at the end of each day.

What their electronic youth will yield for them when they mature to adulthood I can’t guess, but I suspect that the generation gap emerging between us and them will be bigger than any that has come before since perhaps the 1960s. I guess we’ll all begin to understand what that means in a few years.

Patience Rewarded?

With each passing month the temptation to buy an iPhone has grown stronger and stronger. As I have gradually assimilated more of my daily personal activities into my Apple infrastructure at home, the urge has increased bit by bit. It would be really awesome to always have my iTunes library as close as my phone, to have all my personal contacts and Gmail at my fingertips everywhere in my personal time, to ditch my Vonage lines in Atlanta and Dallas, to have all of my del.icio.us bookmarks at hand, etc. Still, I have managed to hold fast and avoid laying out the cash to buy a device that I’m sure will be missing at least one super cool feature any day now. I hope.

So every once in a while I’ll check out the many blogs that carry the endless rumors on the iPhone, and I found myself doing so while eating lunch at Harry’s in the Knox-Henderson area once more today, just down the street from my neighborhood Apple store. According to the post I found here while finishing off a hotdog, there appears to be a building shortage of iPhones being reported, and according to another one here, the new iPhone introduction will be the major (but not only) news item at Apple’s World Wide Developers Conference in San Fransciso next month. That combination seemed like it might be something to go on, so I dropped in on the Apple Store to check it out and see if they had any iPhones in stock.

They did not. Moreover, they didn’t even have any on display.

This being the first time since the launch of the iPhone that I have seen that happen, I had to ask the staff why. They said that while they normally received a shipment almost every day, they have not gotten one since Wednesday of this week. Deliveries before that had been running a little light too. They professed ignorance. I’m sure they are being kept in the dark along with the rest of us.

Something is up. Temporary mismatch in supply and demand being rectified any day with an increase in production? A delay in shipments from Asia? Or something more portentous? Could the rumor sites have something here? We’ll soon see. Mark your calendars. June 9th could be pretty interesting for Apple fans.

While I was there I also needed to check out whether or not I could setup Time Machine to use an external hard drive connected to my Wi-Fi network in the apartment by using the Airport Express I have lying around. It’s been redundant ever since I bought my Apple TV, and meanwhile I’ve started collecting enough stuff on my MacBook that I really need to start backing it up.

It turns out that I can set it up that way. Of course. Why should it work any other way? Despite that elegance I might still spring for a Time Capsule anyway and bequeath my Airport Extreme to my parents, but we’ll see about that. It’s time for me to start finishing the job of furnishing my apartment. I’ve got a year to go here at least and I’m still writing this post while seated on a rented sofa and staring at walls with nothing hanging on them. Sure, I’m a guy. But this is kind of silly even for me.

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While I Was Out

I have not posted in nearly three weeks now, my longest pause since I started Two Home Towns. That is partly because I was so preoccupied at work. The weight of accumulated tasks undone during my travel storm at the end of winter had become somewhat unbearable, stealing mindshare and creativity even in my personal time. Also, my parenting responsibilities were not inconsiderable – more on that later. All of that amounts to an admittedly dull sack of excuses, but the remaining reason why I haven’t been posting might be mildly interesting for some of you.

In short, it’s because I started dating again earlier this year. That has soaked up many hours of what was once idle time for me to write. What’s more, I soon decided that while I was meeting new people I would not post anything at all related to my time with a person I had just met. It seemed like all downside to me – a slippery slope where even the tiniest bit too much narrative could yield opportunity for violated privacy, misunderstandings and even hurt feelings. There has been plenty to write about in recent times, but discretion has prevented me from saying a word. Until now.

Although I met a number of women quickly – much more easily done in these days of online dating it seems – I soon found that I favored one of them quite a bit. As the springtime moved through Dallas it was her that I kept finding opportunities to see while others waited. Now that we are edging close to summer’s doorstep, neither of us are seeing anyone else. So I guess you could say that we are an item.

We’ll call her H for now. She is a really neat person. I feel very lucky that we met.