In 2008, the nation could elect Barack Obama as the first Black president of the United States of America….but not without a reminder of how important America’s conventional “color line” theory negotiates the popular understanding of leadership, promise, and the presidential office. Throughout this campaign, the haunting legacy of America’s color line has followed Obama as his Kenyan and American roots have been debated and challenged for its “African American authenticity.” As disturbing as it is, this makes sense. Given the unfinished business of a progressive agenda for African American equity, it bothers many that Obama’s rise as a “serious candidate” is interpreted by some as proof that this is a nation devoid of racism. And yes…even though there have been other African American candidates in the past (Shirley Chisholm, Lenora Fulani, and Jesse Jackson to name a few), we are truly in the middle of an historic moment in which a person of African descent is a leading candidate for president. As disturbing as it is, it makes sense—in this context—that the media would downplay the importance of candidate discussions about immigration policy and health care reform in favor of whether Hillary Clinton’s statement about Lyndon B. Johnson’s role in ending segregation was an affront to the tremendous effort of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. and other Civil Rights soldiers who fought to hold this nation accountable for its promise of equal opportunity. What does not make sense are the constant references to a “first Black president” who neither lived a “Black experience” nor embodied any of the identity politics that would make him a “Black” man in America. Yes, I’m talking about references to former President Bill Clinton.

Author Toni Morrison (who recently endorsed Barack Obama), the Congressional Black Caucus, Cedric the Entertainer, and countless others may have playfully (or politically) dubbed former President Bill Clinton as the “First Black President” –either because he appointed several African Americans to key positions in government or because of vices and unhealthful behaviors that are stereotypically associated with people of African descent. However, the truth is that “Blackness” is neither something you do nor something you wear. It is what links a people to a common ancestry rooted in a legacy of resistance, driven by creative solutions, and motivated by a culture of spirituality and healing. Even though academics commonly describe “race” as a social construct, meaning it is created by a social environment, it comes with real implications regarding whether every individual has equal access to quality education, jobs, employment, housing, and other public services.

And why are so many African Americans willing to honor Clinton with a mark of “Black” identity even though his political track record is sometimes inconsistent with a progressive Black agenda? While there are a number of Clinton policies and practices which supported a liberal racial agenda (i.e., the President’s Initiative on Race), the nation should be reminded that Clinton’s Federal Crime Bill (1994) was also one of the more impactful criminal justice policies on the lives of people of color. Due in large part to that legislation, there are more people incarcerated today—disproportionately high numbers of African American men and women—than ever before. Is this a legacy worth burying in favor of laughs or dare I say, the “Black” vote?

Is it worth our soul to declare a sympathetic president “Black” simply because he championed a few causes that are important to our community? Is it not more important that he is white and championed some of these issues? If we follow the philosophy of resistance as framed by abolitionist Frederick Douglass, we know that “power concedes nothing without demand.” From Plessy v. Ferguson (1896) and Korematsu v. United States (1944) to Mendez v. Westmister (1947) and Brown v. Board of Education (1954), this philosophy has been deeply rooted in our formal approach to obtaining a real shot at the American dream. What has also been deeply established, despite the recent banter of presidential hopefuls, is that racial identity is defined not by what you eat, how you dance, or in what cadence you play an instrument.

Before another person decides to call Bill Clinton the “first Black president”—even in jest—I would ask that they consider his track record and consider whether our identity is for sale. In seeking to continue the legacy of pursuing change—not only in vision, but in approaches to many issues that continue to impede a greater cause for social justice—perhaps it is time we demand a political climate not driven by language and stereotypes that divide us. Perhaps there is strength in defining a common agenda where honest debate can ensue about equality, justice, and prosperity for all who desire an American government representative of their dream.

Suggested Reading

The Debt: What America Owes to Blacks by Randall Robinson
Chronicles of Black Protest compiled and edited by Bradford Chambers

If you are like me, you couldn’t wait until the January 1st premier of HBO’s The Wire on Demand. After four seasons of intelligent writing, multi-dimensional characters and a changing focus on the layers of dysfunction that plague our society, I am very excited about the final season of The Wire. This season has promised to deliver an intense look at the intersection between media, crime, politics, and law enforcement. Whew! What a deliciously ambitious season.

For years, social critics have pointed to media coverage as a leading culprit in the shaping of America’s linear and fragmented responses to issues that involve crime and justice. I believe Chris Rock even jokingly questioned the role of “the media” in shaping his fear of certain communities. But even as “the media” is growing and changing to accommodate the many ways in which people digest information, many of us still yearn to get a good look at how the old newsroom operates and how it might be influenced by–or influencing–biases, interpretations of crime, and other convoluted personal or systemic functions that guide what the public swallows as news…and what we never get to know.

Hopefully, this season will spark more than water cooler chit chat. Maybe, just maybe, it will give us permission from the popular culture to voice our legitimate concerns about the various media which refine our messages. Maybe, just maybe, it will give us permission to change not only how we see crime, but how we talk about it. We’ll see…if you’re like me, you’ll stay tuned.