A few weeks back a girl I hadn't seen in nearly 40 years (oh my!) called me to say she was organizing a reunion of our junior high school class. Just our classroom, actually; we were in a special "accelerated" program at Pimlico Junior High in Baltimore–three grades in two years, '67-'69. I'd had a crush on this girl back when. Pretty, smart, stylish. As she went down the list of folks who were coming, I quipped, "Wow we were the original black-Jewish coalition." About half the class was black, half white, and most of the whites were Jews. My friend is black. She said, "Yeah, we all argued over whether the Holocaust or slavery was worse, over milk and cookies."
The reunion was at her place in Connecticut yesterday and I had a great time. After the initial awkwardness I felt completely comfortable. These people all knew me back when, and many had liked me. The feeling was mutual. Also, though I had felt a little funny bringing race up on the telephone out of the blue after 40 years, the surprising thing about the dinner was that everyone talked about race. I think it's the Obama factor, partly; one of my dearest friends had an Ebony Magazine with Michelle on the cover and about the first thing she asked me was, Who are you for Phil? Are you kidding, I said. The black kids all spoke openly of their fears that racism was going to defeat Obama, and I talked with my hostess friend about the way that President Obama is going to transform establishment hiring, so there are suddenly blacks in big jobs.
A lot of our memories were racial in character, and people didn't censor themselves. I told about the time the girl with the Ebony magazine shocked me when she got insulted and cried out, "He can kiss my big black woolly ass." I was 13. I'd never heard anything like that in my life, and well, the earth moved.
I'm saying it was a wonderful feeling yesterday to be able to speak so plainly about race in a group that was half-black, half-white, and full of trust.
There were real differences between the black and white kids at Pimlico. The white kids came from a good neighborhood by and large. We were upper middle class. The black kids came from middle class neighborhoods, and worse–though like us they were elite kids, standouts to get into the program. They've all done real well. Forty years on there's probably still a class difference between my black classmates and white ones, but it doesn't feel big. One big difference is, I got the feeling from remarks here and there that racism has been a factor in the black kids' lives and progress. It makes my heart hurt to say that. Antisemitism has meant nothing in my life. Zilch.
Somebody reading this may think that my junior high school experience was unusual. And yes, it was. My closest friend of that period, a white guy, was there yesterday, and he said it was the most diverse experience of his life, Pimlico and City, the almost-all-black high school he and I went on to (and where Leon Uris went, too). When he went on to college, the races were back in their respective corners again. He and I cherish that background for educating us about the world.
But it's not that unusual. And it's less and less so. All over this big country, there are diverse public schools (and even private ones), and black and white kids learning together. Hispanics, Asians. This week I went to the matriculation ceremony for my nephew at Downstate Medical college in New York–well, he's going to have a really diverse class, Asians, blacks, subcontinent Asians, etc. And the dean of students told me that Downstate selects for diversity. At my reunion yesterday, my Ebony mag friend commented that down south there are more and more interracial marriages, and a lot of white people don't like it, but what can they do.
I draw two lessons from my day. Years ago I heard the great Henry Siegman speak at the Nation, and say that Israel/Palestine couldn't ever become a binational state because there was just too much enmity between the tribes, Jew and Arab. I said to him, I'm an American, and I look at what has happened in my country socially, and I'm proud of it. No one could have predicted that, so I don't want to have to believe your prediction about Jew and Arab. Maybe I'm naive. Ali Abunimah of Chicago shares that feeling. I got my optimism growing up in Baltimore.
On my way to the reunion yesterday, WFUV played an old interview with the late Isaac Hayes talking about Martin Luther King's murder. Hayes was working at Stax in '68, the legendary Memphis studio, and he said there were a lot of white people at Stax but after the assassination strain developed between the races. The blacks blamed the whites for what had happened; the studio never recovered. I'm sure there was strain in our little class. I forget. We've gotten past it.
That's the second lesson I draw: the actions of our leaders, great events, have a ton of influence on individuals. Obama has had an amazing effect on America already. And he's going to keep having it as president. We're planning another get-together next year.
