A DEEPER DIVE INTO THE N-WORD: DISTURBING HISTORY/TROUBLING PRESENT

In our last post we expressed the idea that perhaps today’s racists should abandon their fake civility and speak like they think and act. We noted thatcurrent day racists don’t regularly use the n-word in public, unlike their more obviously racist predecessors, who often did. The thought occurred to us that we should take a deeper dive into the history of this racial slur. Maybe we could explain there isn’t any difference between the fake civility of Georgia Governor Brian Kemp, Texas Governor Greg Abbott, and Fox News host Tucker Carlson and 1960s era segregationists like Mississippi Senator Jim Eastland, South Carolina Senator Strom Thurmond, and Alabama Governor George Wallace. The words differ, but the policies are the same – voter suppression, gerrymandering, and fearmongering that prevent the accumulation of black (and brown) political power and quash challenges to white supremacy.

 

‘The Atom Bomb of Racial Slurs’

In the O.J. Simpson trial, prosecutor Christopher Darden called the n-word “the filthiest, nastiest word in the English Language.” One British Member of Parliament (MP) termed it “the most offensive word in English.”  Harvard law professor Randall Kennedy dubbed it the “atomic bomb of racial slurs” because “if you want to put somebody down, analogize them to the [n-word].”  These characterizations of the n-word haven’t stopped its use in contemporary society, on either side of the Atlantic.

Just in 2017, Diane Abbott, a Labor Party MP of African descent, described being repeatedly referred to by the n-word on social media and in e-mails from members of the public.  In the United States in 2016 a Charlotte, North Carolina television journalist was reporting on a hurricane when a man walked by and dropped the n-word on him. Donald Trump’s election as president spurred numerous accounts of racial slurs, including the n-word, being hurled at public school students.

 

History

Where did the n-word come from and how did it become the slur it’s now recognized as?  Scholars seemingly agree that the word originated around 1619 with the arrival of the first African slaves in what’s now the United States. The slaves were referred to by the Spanish and Portuguese term for “black.” The word—N-I-G-G-U-H-S—for a time was seen as merely descriptive, but before long it became derogatory. By the 1820s and 1830s, white people had begun using it as a way of admonishing children not to engage in certain behavior. It became a widely recognized epithet aimed at making black people feel inferior and unworthy. As one British professor observed, “It’s really tied into the idea that African people aren’t really human beings.”

 

Substitutes

It’s clear that much of the public now won’t stand

for use  of the n-word. The BBC, for example, received over 18,600 complaints about a July 2020 story that included the word in an account of a racially aggravated attack. Scrubbing the word from accepted public discourse, however, hasn’t prevented racists from getting their racial message across. Consider:

•       In 2014 then-National Football League star Richard Sherman noted that he’d been called a “thug” and “ghetto” for a rant he went on about events in an NFL game.  Sherman said such terms had become “the accepted way of calling somebody the n-word.”

•       Beginning in the 1980s with Ronald Reagan, code words like “welfare queen” in essence became a surrogate for the n-word as conservative political figures put a black face on abuse of public assistance programs.

•       “States’ rights” was a favorite term of southern politicians in the ‘60s in opposing civil rights measures. Reagan gave that term new life by opening his 1980 general election campaign in Mississippi in the same county where three civil rights workers were murdered in 1964. The n-word wasn’t used in his speech, but it was an undercurrent of his message.

•       Reagan’s vice president, George H.W. Bush, saved his 1988 presidential campaign with the infamous Willie Horton ad that put a black face on crime. The ad didn’t use the n-word, but it wasn’t needed. His base got the message.     

Former NBA star Charles Barkley was once quoted as saying many people “don’t have enough courage to say the n-word, so they say things like ‘thug’ or ‘street cred.’” Even if Barkley is controversial as a social commentator, he’s not wrong about this.  Many people won’t say the n-word in public, but their policy preferences get the message across.

We’d prefer a world in which people didn’t use the n-word. What we really prefer is a world in which

people  didn’t think the thoughts that lead to the n-word.  In advocating an end to false civility and for honesty about the n-word, we’re really suggesting that what we’d like to know is where people stand. If they won’t stand with us in opposition to racial oppression, we prefer seeing who they are and understanding how they think.  As we said before, talk like you think and act. It was clear to everyone what racists believed and meant when they used the n-word.  That had the benefit of letting the rest of us identify them.

Three Reasons Why Black Coaches are Doomed to Fail – Part Three

For the past two weeks, we’ve discussed three reasons why American institutions and organizations may follow a one-and-done rule with high profile minority hires namely Presumed Incompetence and White Entitlement.

So what role might minority occupants of prominent positions – however unwittingly – play in making that practice more likely?

That brings us to the Role Model Theory. Even though Charles Barkley doesn’t think sports figures qualify as role models, some are. The nation’s racial history sometimes compels blacks, especially in sports, to take on the burden of associating their presence in a high profile position with racial progress. Not long after he became general manager of the Texans, Rick Smith said publicly he hoped his appointment had blazed a trail, would serve as an example to young black people, and show that blacks can perform in such roles.

On its face, this Role Model Theory seems harmless, admirable even. But, like The Force in Star Wars, it has a dark side. When blacks cast their advancement in racial rather than individual terms, they invite the rest of society to evaluate them, and all blacks, through the prism of race. If a Rick Smith or Charlie Strong success might show that blacks can perform in such jobs, some people can use their failure to make the case blacks can’t perform.

This is illogical, of course. Anyone schooled in formal logic (or even informal logic) could demonstrate that the fact one person with a particular characteristic wasn’t successful in an endeavor doesn’t prove another person with that same characteristic will also fail in the endeavor. This is especially true when the characteristic – skin color – hasn’t been shown to determine capacity to do the job. Beyond that, hardly anyone would say a white coach’s failure as the football coach at Texas should mean that no other white person ought to get the position in the future. But, the converse may not hold. If Texas fires Strong, some people will think that Texas can’t make the mistake of hiring another black coach.

The potential availability of other competent black football coaches demonstrates the short-sightedness of a one-black-is-enough rule. This year, Syracuse University hired as its head coach a black man named Dino Babers. Babers took on a tough task in trying to bring the Orange back to prominence. Syracuse plays in the Atlantic Coast Conference’s Atlantic Division where two 800 – pound gorillas – Clemson and Florida State – rampage. But, suppose Babers achieves a measure of success at Syracuse, perhaps winning 8 to 10 games in each of his first few seasons there. That might make him an attractive prospect for a job at a truly big time, traditional football power – a place like Texas.

It turns out that Babers possesses qualities and experience Texas would likely want if it pulls the plug on Strong. Before the head coaching success at Eastern Illinois and Bowling Green that got him the Syracuse job, Babers coached and recruited in Texas. He served as offensive coordinator at Texas A&M for two years and as an assistant for four seasons at Baylor. There he learned from Art Briles, about the hottest offensive mind in the game today. While other black coaches certainly would qualify, if Dino Babers succeeds at Syracuse, the idea Texas would not consider him seems ludicrous, unless Strong’s failure pre-ordains no more blacks for a while. The Role Model Theory could provide a convenient excuse for a reluctance to hire another black since the theory casts the occupant of the position in racial terms, not individual strengths and weaknesses.

The three of us have each been "firsts" in something. One was the first black in our home state named to a number of high profile political and civic positions, one was the first black United States Magistrate Judge in the South, the other the first black partner in his large, mostly white law firm. Each of us had to decide how to deal with the Role Model Theory. How much did we want to take on being an example for other black people?

We decided differently, based on our individual attitudes and orientations about race and racial issues. One of us embraced the Role Model Theory, another disdained it, and one took a practical, philosophical approach, putting emphasis on the history of race discrimination in America which makes it impossible to ignore that blacks haven’t held certain positions, while acknowledging that someone had to be first. Despite the wisdom in this approach, the Role Model Theory still leaves individual blacks, and other historically disadvantaged ethnic and gender groups, vulnerable to the possibility the public will see an individual failure as a group failure.

None of our theories – Presumed Incompetence, White Entitlement, or Role Model − address whether Smith or Strong should keep their jobs. An honest evaluation suggests each has a good case for staying where he is, but neither has been perfect. Despite the fan complaints, Smith appears to have the confidence of Texans owner Bob McNair. For an NFL general manager, nothing else matters. Anyone evaluating Smith should take note of the ambiguity about how much authority he’s had on player personnel matters. Did he really make the draft decisions fans like the talk show caller railed against? The public often gets conflicting information about such matters, and the principals prefer to leave outsiders guessing about who really calls the shots. Whatever the process, Smith gets much of the blame for the Texans lack of a franchise quarterback and their lengthy list of failed draft picks.

Strong made mistakes, especially with his offensive coaching staff, but seems to have recognized those errors and corrected them. The 2016 season will determine whether he’s done enough soon enough. Anybody who understands college football knows two years, or even three, seldom suffice to turn around a program, particularly if the job required dismissing a large number of players who habitually violated the fundamental rules (like not assaulting women) the rest of us must live by.

The talk show caller’s claim that Rick Smith is "holding back my race" and the resulting conversation highlight yet another dynamic in America’s race conversation. Reasonable people can disagree about whether either Rick Smith or Charlie Strong should remain in their positions. The cases for and against each rest on nuances impatient football fans often don’t consider. But, the question of whether a black should succeed either upon his being fired confronts the country with yet another racial dilemma. If their superiors decide to go in a different direction, a decision to rule out another black person because of the race of the position’s previous occupant indicates acceptance of presumptions and assumptions that spring from the same racial animus that kept people like Smith and Strong out of their jobs in the first place.

Do you agree or disagree with our three theories? Sound off in the comments below.