Race and Culture

Physician, Heal Thyself

I heard an interesting story about a wise man recently. This wise man said that when he was younger, he set out to change the world. He strived, toiled, and labored and then came to the realization that the world had too many problems and he didn’t have enough time. So, then he decided to focus on changing his country. He strived, toiled, and labored and again, came to the conclusion that he didn’t have time for that either. Frustrated, he changed his focus to changing his city. Surely this was much more attainable. Again, he strived, toiled, and labored and soon realized that changing his city was an endeavor like the others – it would take several lifetimes.

And then, the epiphany: “I can change myself! If only I had spent my precious time on earth focused on changing myself FIRST…maybe I would have had a shot at changing my city, my country, maybe even the world.”

I am convinced that there is no cause too important or too big to overshadow the need to change oneself. Even the trauma inflicted on us by an outside party, the oppression brought on by another, the pain we are made to feel…all cannot and should not render self-reflection and self-transformation irrelevant.

I was born in a poor country. My family would be considered middle class by our country’s standards at the time. But we experienced enough hardship, pain, and trauma and saw enough oppression and injustice that, growing up, I had an inherent affinity for the downtrodden and marginalized. I grew up with a strong sense of justice and rejection of elitism. A sentiment akin to anti-establishment developed in me as I grew up. As an adult, I have become accustomed to instinctively siding with the smaller guy, the weaker guy, the under-resourced, the marginalized…the one who was hurting.

There is plenty of hurt to go around. ISIS terrorizing innocents in the Middle East and Europe; poor nations claiming economic growth while their poor sink deeper into more despair than ever before; or, closer to home, the enmity between police (white police in particular) and the black community (black men in particular). It would seem we are besieged by trauma.

Warsan Shire (Somali-British poet) writes:

“Late that night I held an atlas in my lap

Ran my fingers across the whole world

And whispered: where does it hurt?

It answered: Everywhere. Everywhere. Everywhere.”

The word ‘everywhere’ is interesting. It has been hurting ‘everywhere’…for a very long time. It’s just now more evident since the hurt is in France, in Belgium, in Germany…yes, even in the US.

The bombings, the mass shootings, the abuse of power, the injustice, the hatred, the bitterness, the steady diet of unpleasantness that seems to hang over us like a dark cloud.

“The world is out of control!” say casual observers in the industrialized West.

There is a collective rolling of the eyes in the rest of the world. Things have been ‘out of control’ in the numerous hot spots around the world for decades. Just take a look at the former colonies of the West, be it in Africa or other parts of the developing world. These nations have been evolving through a hurricane of hurt that has felt out of control for a long time, yet outside of the full view of the casual observer.

Through this evolution, there have been countless leaders, change agents, revolutionaries, virtuous men and women who have tried to address the turmoil and heal the hurt. Some have succeeded, some have died trying, many have done so in obscurity. But at the end of it, the world still hurts…everywhere.

Does it continue to hurt because that’s our destiny as a human species?

No. It continues to hurt because there are too many broken people trying to fix a broken world. Their efforts are not to be maligned. After all, they are trying while the rest of us are watching and waiting for things to get better.

Henry David Thoreau nailed it when he wrote in “Civil Disobedience”: “There are nine hundred and ninety-nine patrons of virtue to one virtuous man.”

Back to my point…

What if we took the wise man’s experience to heart. What would happen if the ones on the front lines, the leaders, the activists, the revolutionaries, even the ‘patrons of virtue’ changed themselves and fixed themselves, first. I’m not talking about letting circumstances and external factors change you. I am talking about a proactive change that can only come after rigorous and uncomfortable self-reflection…and a reliance on the power of God to affect transformation.

This does not imply that there is some checklist on personal growth that has to be marked off. We are always growing and changing. On a practical level, this is about self-awareness. This is about willingness to put aside the hurt in the world for a moment and diagnose oneself.

“Medice, cura te ipsum” / “Physician, heal thyself” – Luke 4:23

A leader who knows himself is a leader who can heal himself. A leader who is healed and whole leads a virtuous struggle. In himself he recognizes a microcosm of the world – an organism in pain that is diagnosed, that undergoes the process of healing, that is then transformed. New ideas, new thinking, new dialogue and new approaches are birthed from leaders who have been transformed. And maybe, these leaders can help our world begin to heal…everywhere.

Why I No Longer Call Out “Racists”

I was born in Africa, immigrated to the US as a refugee, was sponsored by an all-white church in North Carolina, completed junior high and high school in the deep South (Alabama), went to college in one of the most culturally diverse states in the US (California), and became a father to two mixed (half-black/half-white) boys. I cannot escape the topic of race. Race-related issues in the US have been a part of my reality since the day my family stepped foot in North Carolina. So, I try to get a balanced perspective on the issue of race and racism. It’s important to me that I judge rightly and not instinctively. Instincts can lead to errors.

I learned this some years back while backpacking in Belize. I arrived in Belize from Guatemala, a country that reminded me about the concept of white privilege and black disadvantage. So, I was on high alert for racism. I met a white couple that was looking for a restaurant. I pointed them in the direction of one, and later in the afternoon, I saw them at that same restaurant. They thanked me for the recommendation and the man invited me to join them on a road trip in the countryside. I got the impression he made the decision to invite me without consulting his partner. I accepted anyway. They told me they would pick me up in 15 minutes. So, in 15 minutes, I went downstairs to wait. A whole 45 minutes went by and no sign of the couple. My irritation turned to anger. Really, don’t you hate it when someone wastes your time?

During the wait, I came up with an explanation: “The woman doesn’t feel comfortable having me along for the road trip because I am black. That was obvious from the way she reacted earlier. On the way back to their hotel, she told her partner there was no way I would join them and they went without me.”

That was the most believable explanation for why they never showed up. They were racists.

Fuming, I went up to my room. About 30 minutes later, I heard a knock on my door and there’s the same lady. We went on a short road trip and during the car ride, I came to find out that not only were they not racist, they were two super liberal progressively minded siblings from New York City. I was too embarrassed to tell them about my assumptions.


How could I jump to that type of conclusion from just a few minutes of conversation? Was I simply over-sensitive or just a terrible judge of character? In my defense, I had experienced overt racism in Guatemala…like when a boat captain gave life vests to a well-dressed white couple but refused to give me and a native Indian family similar vests. Sometimes, one experience we have bleeds right into the next, whether we mean for it or not.

That experience taught me to avoid going with the flow or taking a stance on a race issue simply based on optics. It also helped me to develop my own framework for defining racism. Racism is not simple to define, no matter how much we would like it to be.

But here it is:

  • a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human races determine cultural or individual achievement, usually involving the idea that one’s own race is superior and has the right to rule others.
  • prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed against someone of a different race based on the belief that one’s own race is superior.

You’ll notice that the main point in the definitions for “racism” is this belief that my race is better than your race. My people are smarter and more hard working; or your people are lazy and violent and extremist…so on and so forth. In American society, there is general consensus that these types of claims and beliefs are inappropriate. You express them in any way and you will lose votes, you will lose friends, you will lose endorsements. It’s a wrap. In mainstream society, there is no place for them. Zero tolerance. It would appear that, as a society, we run a pretty tight ship here.

Yet we continue to be engulfed in racial controversies, dramas, and plot lines. The killing of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri and the ensuing and still ongoing protests is a perfect example. We are fixated, oftentimes rightly so, on transgressions that are usually against people of color. But are we using a broad brush to identify these “transgressions” as “racism” or “racist”? Are there nuances that could help us more rightly judge?

To be clear, the facts of the case in Ferguson do not seem to imply any nuance to explain away what happened. Furthermore, the issue goes beyond race to other matters such as police militarization, aggression, and lack of accountability…all of which are beyond the scope of this discussion.

To me, racism is best understood through a continuum of attitudes to matters of race that begins with the “color-blind” Kumbaya, “we-are-all-the-same” sentiment on the left all the way to the white sheet-wearing hatemongers and neo-Nazis on the right. I like to believe that most normal, sensible people do not have values on either of these extremes.   Instead, the average guy and girl on the street is somewhere in the middle. But what is in the middle?

There are three categories of people that occupy the middle. And, instead of clear demarcations between categories, blurred lines separate the three.

First, starting on the left, we have the racially insensitive. These are people who may make crude remarks and jokes about people of another race, but do so with no malice. They may even feel comfortable making these comments to people of the race they ridicule. E.g. “Bob (a black guy) tends to make off-color jokes about Chinese people from time to time, but he is married to a Chinese and loves Chinese culture.” I confess. I have been racially insensitive from time to time. And I challenge anyone to wag a finger at me…anyone except the Kumbaya color-blind people.   I don’t even think they exist. If you’ve ever assumed the black man in a tux was a waiter, when he was a guest just like you, you’re racially insensitive. If you’ve ever said, “all white people look alike to me”, you’re racially insensitive. Racial insensitivity is not always conscious and typically is not malicious; just a by-product of the extremely diverse and divided America we live in.

Next, we move right on the continuum to racial wariness. This is the first sign of trouble. Because, now, we have people shying away from people, simply based on how they look. In a sense, racial wariness is more a survival tactic based on stereotypes than anything else. As a society, I think we can handle insensitivity, as long as it is contained. When it creeps into wariness, we feel judged by others; we judge ourselves for our fears; distrust sets in. And, once again, I will boldly admit that, from time to time, I exhibit racial wariness. If I am standing in line next to an Arab Muslim with traditional Muslim garb, I will wonder if they sympathize with Al Qaeda or ISIS or Hamas, or any number of terrorist groups; or if they actively fund these groups; or, maybe they are jihadists, in the extremist sense of the word. If the terrorists on 9/11 had been Alaskan Inuits, I would be wary of just about any Inuit I pass on the street. That’s how it works. Again, I challenge anyone to throw rocks at me. If you have driven through a neighborhood looking for a new home and decided against the neighborhood because the kids playing in the streets were black, you’re racially wary.

After the whole Donald Sterling drama unfolded, another NBA owner, Mark Cuban, made some pretty candid comments where he labeled himself as sometimes prejudiced or bigoted. His description of decisions he makes based on race is precisely what I define as racial wariness. Most of us are racially wary and we would be better off accepting that in ourselves, being as self-aware as Cuban, and addressing it instead of denying it.


And, finally, we get to the ugliest of them all – racial bias. Racial bias is especially ugly when we use it to make decisions that negatively impact another person.  Racial bias is usually a gateway to plain, old-fashioned racism. At this point, you are probably thinking to yourself, “Yosef, it does not pay to over-analyze. This is all semantics.”

Maybe so. But how, then, do we explain seemingly reasonable people (read “not neo-Nazi or KKK”) making negative decisions based on race?

In this video, hidden cameras from the ABC Television show “What Would You Do?” capture people’s reactions to witnessing a white teenager trying to steal a bike versus a black teenager doing the exact same thing. The white teenage boy gets a pass; the black teenage boy does not. Racial bias is about whom we choose to give the benefit of the doubt to and whom we instinctively distrust and accuse. Oftentimes, it is the inner workings of the subconscious. A perfectly “good-hearted” non-racist can exhibit ugly racial bias.

My sister and her husband live in Belgium and France where people are famous for their tolerance and acceptance…except if you are a Congolese and want to rent an apartment in a nice part of Paris or Brussels. Over time, immigrants, typically Congolese and other Central Africans, have drawn attention for not being good tenants. As a result, white French and Belgian landlords, who attend Youssou N’dour and Habibe Koite concerts, protest against American imperialism, dote over Barack Obama, and exhibit every manner of progressive behavior known to man, will systematically deny African renters and select more “acceptable” white clients. Funny enough, my sister and her husband have had a negative experience renting their condo to a Congolese tenant. But they made a decision to not be biased. Instead they have chosen to implement better controls so that the same bad experience does not repeat itself, regardless if it is with a Congolese or a Czech or a Belgian. A racially biased white French landlord could choose to not be biased and instead be smart. A racist white French landlord could not because whatever negative experience they have with Congolese tenants is a confirmation and affirmation of their deep-held belief in the African’s racial inferiority.

So, what’s my point? People are complex and we gain nothing by describing each other with simple loaded words. Of course, if I am negatively impacted by the actions of a racially biased person, it will not matter to me one bit if I can rightly define that person as being racially biased as opposed to racist. The impact is the same. But, what categorization helps to do is open doors for dialogue.   I personally feel that dialogue is neither fruitful nor possible with a full-blown racist. I cannot engage with such a person. Period. However, if I can keep from instinctively labeling someone who is in the middle ground of the continuum as a racist, and rightly judge him or her, then there’s a chance for communication.

Apply this framework when thinking about an issue you hear about in the news, or the actions of your co-worker or boss, or the comments of in-laws, or the behavior of the restaurant manager last night. See if it helps you judge rightly. See if it helps you be more understanding without letting go of your principles. See if you can have some meaningful conversations and save yourself mental stress and frustration.

black male

I look at this world through the lens of a black man. Defining racism according to this continuum is what helps me to not only cope, but also hopefully transcend the built-in bias against the American black male.

East Africans Overcoming Racial Bias in Hollywood

Last week, the big news in Hollywood revolved around the recent Academy Awards, and particularly, Lupita Nyong’o’s historic Oscar win for Best Supporting Actress in her role in the movie 12 Years a Slave.


In Hollywood, anytime a non-white person wins an award as prestigious as an Oscar, it’s big news.  For all its activism, progressiveness, portrayal of racial harmony, and general liberal façade, Hollywood has historically not been favorable for the image and careers of black people (American or otherwise).  Which is why Lupita’s win is a big deal and she made a point of addressing the racial implications of her recent success in a speech at the Black Women in Hollywood Luncheon hosted by Essence Magazine.   In case you haven’t heard, Lupita is black…and African at that.  Kenyan.

There is inherent racial bias Hollywood.  This is not news and many have pointed to the exclusion, marginalization, and negative typecasting of black actors for a long time.  And the criticism is not exclusive to Hollywood’s impact on black actors.   Movies made about black figures just can’t seem to make it unless they have white characters in the lead roles.   This is a problem that even non-minority fixtures of the industry, like Star Wars director George Lucas, have spoken up about.  Read this article on his struggles to get the all-black cast Red Tails picked up by major Hollywood producers.

So, against this backdrop, a black woman from East Africa wins an Oscar and it’s a huge story because Hollywood doesn’t typically bestow this type of honor on a black actor…let alone one from Africa.

I am very proud of what Lupita has accomplished.

But, there is another East African I am immensely proud of in Hollywood…Barkhad Abdi.



Barkhad, another East African, came out of nowhere to star in and get nominated for Best Supporting Actor in Captain Phillips.

The biographies of Barkhad and Lupita could not be more divergent.  Lupita comes from a well-to-do Kenyan family, lived an interesting life around the world, and received a top-notch education at Yale University.  Barkhad was born in Mogadishu, Somalia, fled his country during the turmoil of the ‘90s, and immigrated to the US as a refugee.  It has been reported that despite his movie’s success, Barkhad has been financially struggling and relying on the kindness of friends to get by.

Two lives experienced on opposite tracks.  Yet they are both now tasting the fruits of their thespian labor.

Will we see Lupita or Barkhad as lead roles portraying compelling characters with amazing stories like their own?  Will there come a time in Hollywood when actors of their backgrounds can assume prominent roles in films that do not have any racial or cultural underpinnings?  I hope so.

As an East African, I applaud both of them for their success thus far. As an American, I cheer when doors open and the American dream is realized by anyone with a dream and determination.

I grew up watching movies about real-life black heroes that were told as if their accomplishments were inextricably linked to the generosity of white people.  Think Cry Freedom and the telling of Steve Biko’s life.  Personally, I simply refuse to watch movies like Invictus or The Blind Side.  Even though these types of movies are still getting produced and promoted, I am actually optimistic about change. I think we are inching our way to a Hollywood willing to tell the story of a Lupita or a Barkhad without having to adorn their character with a “White Savior”.