Posts Tagged ‘race’
Talking leTour
My favorite pastime in July is watching the television coverage of the Tour de France bike race. My days at work right now are long and very busy. I have been arriving home exhausted. Then, I turn on the prime-time re-broadcast of the day’s stage of the race and I watch guys whose work makes my exhaustion seem insignificant. Yikes, they have endurance!
Thomas Voeckler impresses the heck out of me, and makes funny faces while he is working hard on the pedals. He is demonstrating some amazing climbing and accomplished a couple of stage wins. Bravo! Stole the polka dot jersey yesterday.
Frank Schleck sited for a banned substance?! I’m amazed riders still do anything to risk disqualification. He denies doping.
Cadel Evans didn’t have the legs this year. It’s tough to watch the big competitors not being able to muster what it takes to stay on pace, let alone the pity when they can’t offer up a true threat of attack. He drops to 7th place, eight-some minutes back.
Bradley Wiggins seems to have a firm control of his lead. He’s bringing out a big number of British fans and Union Jack flags everywhere! Could be the first British rider to capture the Tour.
George Hincapie is still riding like he’s a young kid, though he’s not.
I like Frenchman, Thibaut Pinot, and Slovak, Peter Sagan, of the young riders putting in impressive performances this year.
Sagan has stolen some of the thunder from my previous favorite sprinter, Mark Cavendish, as Cav has been putting the success of Wiggins and team Sky ahead of personal ambitions. There is still hope for some excitement in the final day’s sprint in Paris, where Cavendish has won the last three years. He would sure like to make it 4 in a row. I’m confident he will have the full support of the team to get into position for a shot at that goal.
After an evening devouring the coverage of each day’s stage, I feel a lot less fatigued by the demands of my Tour de Day-Job.
I wish the coverage didn’t have to end, but this year, I’ll have the London Olympics to fill in the void that follows. No rest for the weary, don’tcha know.
Partially Helpful
I saw the movie “The Help” yesterday afternoon, with Cyndie. I came out of the theater feeling moved, entertained, and somewhat emotional over the experience. She had little to say. It was like it had poked her where she already hurts, but offered nothing beneficial for her. I wanted to explore some of my experience, but was sensing that she wasn’t interested in talking about the movie (or maybe, just wasn’t able). She does work as a racial equity leadership development specialist and transformational change consultant.
I got the feeling that there is a vast gorge between us regarding understanding complexities of racial inequity. The movie does a pretty obvious job of packaging the serious and dramatic situations of mistreatment of an entire race of humans, into a convenient parcel for popular consumption. It prods, to make people aware of the uncomfortable, without risking making them truly uncomfortable. I think it only served to make my wife feel like it sustains the damage of ongoing (unrecognized) inequity. By acknowledging a little of the problem, we satisfy ourselves that everything is okay now. It’s not. I think that made the experience of seeing the movie, entirely unsatisfying for Cyndie. It made the movie irritating for her. But that is my impression, speaking for her from my vantage point.
Afterward, I looked for some information about the movie, and when I read to her from this blog post: [Inconvenient Facts: The Whiteness of Memory in “The Help” Versus the Ugly Realities of Jim and Jane Crow America by Chauncey DeVega] she reported that the writer expressed pretty well what she was feeling, but couldn’t find the words to say.
Overall, I guess I would say that the movie is partially helpful. It does have people talking about the issues of racism and racial inequities. I don’t believe that it does much to inform on the actual realities experienced, nor on the extent of continuing institutionalized racism, and unacknowledged white privilege, that exists to this day. For that reason, in the long run, the movie may actually hurt, more than it helps.
Tour Excitement
Hooooeeee! What a day it was yesterday in the Tour de France. Thrilling! Audacious! Climbing in the Alps. A big challenge by Andy. Alberto struggling. Thomas clinging to the Yellow Jersey. Fifteen seconds! Cadel doing so much work on his own.
Today they climb again. I have no idea what to expect. Col du Galibier and Alpe d’Huez. Who will attack? Who will counter? Who will have any legs after yesterday?
In honor of all that pedaling, I present petals…
Talking Tour
I really am enjoying this year’s Tour de France bike race. I am a reluctant Mark Cavendish fan. I like him, and I dislike him. I suspect that the things about him that bother me, are probably what contribute to his success as a sprinter, and produce the aspect of him that I do like. I don’t have any strong opinions about the current yellow jersey holder, Frenchman Thomas Voekler. I like that he appears humble, and he has done well to keep the lead through the Pyrenees Mountain stages. I like the Schleck brothers, Andy and Frank. I wish at least one of them could accomplish a gap from the other contenders on a climb, before the chances to do so pass by. I am not a fan of Alberto Contador, but I stand in awe of his climbing abilities. I look forward to seeing what transpires in the final week, where they will climb in the Alps and then ride an individual time trial. I anticipate a change in the lead, yet, at the same time, I will not be surprised if the order of the General Classification holds as it is, all the way to the end.
Watching the daily stage races on television provides opportunity to witness a select few cycling-related advertisements over and over again. I’m really not the target audience, primarily due to my lack of interest in buying the latest and greatest equipment that they are hawking. However, on a whim, when they ran an ad for a new Cannondale bicycle, said to be lighter, stiffer, stronger, and more aerodynamic than all other bikes, I allowed myself to imagine the possibility.
In all honesty, I do not do any road riding that would justify this level of bicycle. I am the kind of person who likes to carry plenty of things with me on my bicycle. It wouldn’t make sense to buy the lightest bicycle and then load it down with a trunk full of relatively heavy conveniences. Of course, the heaviest thing on my bicycle is me. If I want to peddle a lighter load, I should lose some of the extra weight around my middle.
Regardless, I decided to imagine myself buying one of the latest and greatest new bicycles being offered. I did a search for pricing information:
I won’t be considering the “Ultimate” as a potential new bike for me.
As a matter of fact, I think I’ll go back to pushing the “Mute” button during ads for the rest of the race. Hopefully, that will help me to ignore the commercial for the stationary trainer that allows you to select a route on Google Maps, and then it automatically adjusts the resistance to simulate the terrain of the route you picked. Some of the Tour stages come pre-programmed!
What I really need is Cyndie to come back to town and distract me with games of Scrabble on her iPad.
Census Love
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s a genealogist, I find that I have a great love for census records. More than any other resource (birth, death, and marriage records, do provide plenty of hard data) I prefer the census for the picture it can paint. Or, more precisely, the picture that a series of decade’s census records can paint.
There is actually a limited period of time for which this works best. If you get too far back, say, into the early 1800’s, the information is less complete. You might only get the name of the head of household and a tally of how many free white males of a range of age groups, then free white females, and lastly, slaves. I get to overlook my disgust for the slave category because for the geographic areas I have been researching, either people were too ashamed to report such or they didn’t keep any, because I have yet to see any entries listed under that column. Race discrimination, demonstrated by holding whiteness specifically worthy of counting, above all other humanity, is as blatant as can be, right from the very start. But that is straying back to yesterday’s topic and away from what I had in mind for today, and it totally interrupted my point…
If we look too recent, we don’t find anything later than 1930, because individual information is kept confidential for 72 years by Federal law. In a couple more years, we will finally have access to the details of the 1940 census. Inbetween the early, rudimentary records of the early 1800’s, and the most recent available data of 1930, there is an opportunity to uncover some amazing portraits. Records reveal people growing up in households filled with siblings and hired help, children mature and leave home, and frequently, elderly parents end up living with their kid’s families. It is so great to pull up a record in hopes of attaching it to someone I am researching, and then discovering the familiar names of brothers and sisters listed in the household results.
It is also exciting to view the records for people of the houses nearby, sometimes on the same page, or maybe 1 or 2 pages either direction, to discover relatives by marriage. They often really did marry that girl/guy next door. I have seen people counted as children, and then by the next census, they are married to a neighbor. I like watching the parents age, 10 years at a time, and seeing the number of children grow. Then the older kids disappear, sometimes even as new young siblings continue to be added. Some folks had a heck of a lot of kids, back in the day. Occasionally, parents might be found living alone in their 70’s or 80’s. After all those kids, I can’t say that I blame them.
It seems like people didn’t count so well, because it appears rare that folks actually aged 10 years between decades. That level of detail can matter a lot when you’re trying to make a solid confirmation a couple of hundred years later.
I hardly need to point out how that silly habit of naming children the same as a parent is a nasty hassle for researchers. I never can be sure if, when the numbers seem off, it is because it is actually a different generation person by the same name, or if someone erred on reporting the age of the person I am seeking.
If you are reading here today, I encourage you to do all those future ancestry hunters out there a big favor by thoroughly and accurately filling out your census forms, and doing so promptly. But if you want to mess with those researchers a bit, fudging your actual age is too obvious. How about under the question for race, you select, “Other” and write in Oak or Pine or Maple.
Those Who Make Rules
And you thought I was worked up yesterday! Last evening I found the census form had arrived in the mail and made sure to pull it from the abyss of untended household piles and opened it up to be filled out right away. More and more in the 5th and 6th decades of life I am finding myself uncomfortable being counted as a member of a larger group that includes vocal members whose beliefs and behaviors I find offensive. Sometimes it is as extreme as the group called human beings. We are all human, but the behaviors of some can be so despicable that I find myself preferring something from the animal kingdom. There are even a few versions of tree that would suit me more.
I have also found discomfort with being grouped in categories for spiritual belief and for being male. Now the census has me feeling distinctly uncomfortable declaring my race as white. When they can claim that for the purposes of this census, hispanic or latino is not a race, and then on the following question ask what race a person is, it seems to me to reveal how ridiculously made up the social construct of race really is. Maybe it’s a way to manipulate statistics to the number of non-white races so they won’t officially outnumber the white population in the eyes of those with the power of making the rules.
Since race is defined by law, the definition can be changed to suit whatever purposes are desired. What percentage of African heritage would define me as “black”? Is it the same percentage of Anglo heritage would define an Africa American person as “white”? The history of the American legal system would reveal that it hasn’t been a balanced formula. If the court was petitioned by an individual desiring to be classified as “white,” the definition was allowed to be morphed to continue to exclude whomever those in power chose, and white people were always the ones in power.
Logic would have it that the collection of racial data is justified, and for righteous reasons. How can we help people of non-white races if we don’t know how many people that is and where they are located? One example of the folly of that logic is the results achieved by affirmative action to level the playing field for women and people of color seeking employment. It hasn’t equitably increased the number of people of color getting hired. There was some increase in white women entering the workforce, but they have yet to earn equal pay.
I posit that there is no need to even ask the question about identity of race. It is unnecessary. You don’t need to ask. We are all members of the human race and have the same needs for food, shelter, transportation, education, and health care. Count us, and then serve the public.
I don’t like the simple fact that there is a comparison between white and non-white races. The distinction is racist in the first place. It is all so stupid. I’d rather be a tree.
Relative Something 