Tim Wise
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From: Soft Skull Announce
Reply-To: Soft Skull Announce
Subject: Tim Wise on Katrina
Date: Sat,� 3 Sep
2005 14:23:21 -0700 (PDT)
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Tim Wise, who is a brilliant anti-racism activist, and lived
in New Orleans
1986-1996, just sent us this...We will continue to forward
his commentaries on
the unpreventable hurricane, and its preventable aftermath,
over the coming
days...
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------ Forwarded Message
From: Tim Wise <[email protected]
Date: Fri, 02 Sep 2005 17:03:23 -0500
To: <[email protected]
Subject: article on katrina
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I have been paralyzed this last few days, unable to write
anything.
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That changed today.
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This is the first of several things I'm going to be getting
off my chest.
Hope you all find them useful, or confirming, or cathartic,
or whatever. If
not, just delete them and move on I guess.
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A God With Whom I am Not Familiar
By Tim Wise
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This is an open letter to the man sitting behind me at La
Paz today, in
Nashville, at lunchtime, with the Brooks Brothers shirt:
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You don't know me. But I know you.
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I watched you as you held hands with your tablemates at the
restaurant where
we both ate this afternoon. I listened as you prayed, and
thanked God for
the food you were about to eat, and for your own safety,
several hundred
miles away from the unfolding catastrophe in New Orleans.
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You blessed your chimichanga in the name of Jesus Christ, and
then proceeded
to spend the better part of your meal--and mine, since I was
too near your
table to avoid hearing every word--morally scolding the
people of that
devastated city, heaping scorn on them for not heeding the
warnings to leave
before disaster struck. Then you attacked them--all of them,
without
distinction it seemed--for the behavior of a relative
handful: those who
have looted items like guns, or big screen TVs.
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I heard you ask, amid the din of your colleagues
"Amens," why it was that
instead of pitching in to help their fellow Americans, the
people of New
Orleans instead--again, all of them in your mind--chose to
steal and shoot
at relief helicopters.
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I watched you wipe salsa from the corners of your mouth, as
you nodded
agreement to the statement of one of your friends, sitting
to your right,
her hair neatly coiffed, her makeup flawless, her jewelry
sparkling. When
you asked, rhetorically, why it was that people were so much
more decent
amid the tragedy of 9-11, as compared to the aftermath of
Katrina, she had
offered her response, but only after apologizing for what
she admitted was
going to sound harsh.
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"Well," Buffy explained. "It's probably
because in New Orleans, it seems to
be mostly poor people, and you know, they just don't have
the same regard."
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She then added that police should shoot the looters, and
should have done so
from the beginning, so as to send a message to the rest that
theft would not
be tolerated. You, who had just thanked Jesus for your chips
and guacamole,
said you agreed. They should be shot. Praise the Lord.
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Your God is one with whom I am not familiar.
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Two thoughts.
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First, it is a very fortunate thing for you, and likely for
me, that my two
young children were with me as I sat there, choking back
fish tacos and my
own seething rage, listening to you pontificate about shit
you know nothing
about.
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Have you ever even been to New Orleans?
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And no, by that I don't mean the New Orleans of your
company's sales
conference. I don't mean Emeril's New Orleans, or the New
Orleans of Uptown
Mardi Gras parties.
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I mean the New Orleans that is buried as if it were
Atlantis, in places like
the lower 9th ward: 98 percent black, 40 percent poor, where
bodies are
floating down the street, flowing with the water as it seeks
its own level.
Have you met the people from that New Orleans? The New
Orleans that is dying
as I write this, and as you order another sweet tea?
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I didn't think so.
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Your God--the one to whom you prayed today, and likely do
before every meal,
because this gesture proves what a good Christian you
are--is one with whom
I am not familiar.
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Your God is one who you sincerely believe gives a flying
fuck about your
lunch. Your God is one who you seem to believe watches over
you and blesses
you, and brings good tidings your way, while simultaneously
letting
thousands of people watch their homes be destroyed, and
perhaps ten thousand
or more die, many of them in the streets for lack of water
or food.
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Did you ever stop to think just what a rancid asshole such a
God would have
to be, such that he would take care of the likes of you,
while letting
babies die in their mother's arms, and old people in
wheelchairs, at the
foot of Canal Street?
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Your God is one with whom I am not familiar.
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But no, it isn't God who's the asshole here, Skip (or Brad,
or Braxton, or
whatever your name is).
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God doesn't feed you, and it isn't God that kept me from
turning around and
beating your lily white privileged ass today either.
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God has nothing to do with it.
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God doesn't care who wins the Super Bowl.
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God doesn't help anyone win an Academy Award.
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God didn't get you your last raise, or your SUV.
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And if God is even half as tired as I am of having to listen
to
self-righteous bastards like you blame the victims of this
nightmare for
their fate, then you had best eat slowly from this point
forward.
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Why didn't they evacuate like they were told?
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Are you serious?
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There are 100,000 people in that city without cars. Folks
who are too poor
to own their own vehicle, and who rely on public
transportation every day. I
know this might shock you. They don't have a Hummer2, or
whatever
gas-guzzling piece of crap you either already own or
probably are saving up
for.
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And no, they didn't just choose not to own a car because the
buses are so
gosh-darned efficient and great, as Rush Limbaugh implied
yesterday, and as
you likely heard, since you're the kind of person who hangs
on the every
word of such bloviating hacks as these.
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Why did they loot?
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Are you serious?
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People are dying, in the streets, on live television.
Fathers and mothers
are watching their baby's eyes bulge in their skulls from
dehydration, and
you are begrudging them some Goddamned candy bars, diapers
and water?
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If anything the poor of New Orleans have exercised
restraint.
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Maybe you didn't know it, but the people of that city with
whom you likely
identify--the wealthy white folks of Uptown--were barely
touched by this
storm. Yeah, I guess God was watching over them: protecting
them, and
rewarding them for their faith and superior morality. If the
folks downtown
who are waiting desperately for their government to send
help--a government
whose resources have been stretched thin by a war that I'm
sure you support,
because you love freedom and democracy--were half as crazed
as you think,
they'd march down St. Charles Avenue right now and burn
every mansion in
sight. That they aren't doing so suggests a decency and
compassion for their
fellow man and woman that sadly people like you lack.
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Can you even imagine what you would do in their place?
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Can you imagine what would happen if it were well-off white
folks stranded
like this without buses to get them out, without
nourishment, without hope?
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Putting aside the absurdity of the imagery--after all, such
folks always
have the means to seek safety, or the money to rebuild, or
the political
significance to ensure a much speedier response for their
concerns--can you
just imagine?
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Can you imagine what would happen if the pampered, overfed
corporate class,
which complains about taxes taking a third of their bloated
incomes, had to
sit in the hot sun for four, going on five days? Without a
Margarita or
hotel swimming pool to comfort them I mean?
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Oh, and please, I know. I'm stereotyping you. Imagine that.
I've assumed,
based only on your words, what kind of person you are, even
though I suppose
I could be wrong. How does that feel Biff? Hurt your
feelings? So sorry. But
hey, at least my stereotypes of you aren't deadly. They
won't effect your
life one bit, unlike the ones you carry around with you and
display within
earshot of people like me, supposing that no one could
possibly disagree.
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But I'm not wrong am I Chip? I know you. I see people like
you all the time,
in airports, in business suits, on their lunch breaks.
People who will take
advantage of any opportunity to ratify and reify their
pre-existing
prejudices towards the poor, towards black folks. You see
the same three
video loops of the same dozen or so looters on Fox News and
you conclude
that poor black people are crazy, immoral, criminal.
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You, or others quite a bit like you, are the ones posting
messages on chat
room boards, calling looters sub-human "vermin,"
"scum," or "cockroaches." I
heard you use the word "animals" three times today:
you and that woman
across from you--what was her name? Skyler?
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What was it you said as you scooped the last bite of black
beans and rice
into your eager mouth? Like zoo animals? Yes, I think that
was it.
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Well Chuck, it's a free country, and so you certainly have
the right I
suppose to continue lecturing the poor, in between checking
your Blackberry
and dropping the kids off at soccer practice. If you want to
believe that
the poor of New Orleans are immoral and greedy, and unworthy
of support at a
time like this--or somehow more in need of your scolding
than whatever
donation you might make to a relief fund--so be it.
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But let's leave God out of it, shall we? All of it.
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Your God is one with whom I am not familiar, and I'd prefer
to keep it that
way.
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Tim Wise is the author of White Like Me: Reflections on Race
from a
Privileged Son (http://www.softskull.com/detailedbook.php?isbn=1-932360-68-9).
He lived in New Orleans from 1986-1996. He can be reached at
[email protected]
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