7 Thoughts for the Beginning of 2015

Cinemulatto’s mind has been all over the place—still tracing my family history (yes, someday I may even participate in an Acadian reenactment), reading a lot, breathing a bit after some big work deadlines. I’ve faced a few film festival rejections, leading me to wonder why I bother submitting to film festivals (and spending way too much money on submission fees, travel and housing costs in the event of an actual acceptance, and moving-target distribution opportunities).

I’ve had many moments where there’s been “just a little question in my mind,” to quote Arthur Lee. Here are the resulting thoughts.

Obama. A friend and I once had a debate about Jungle Fever and the gist was this: he felt Spike Lee could do no wrong since he’s the most radical African American filmmaker who’s ever hit the mainstream. Although I wouldn’t consider Obama radical, in many ways his presidency is a deviation, one mixed with inspired moments of governance—becoming “the LGBT president,” giving us Obamacare, pushing for immigration reform, reaching out to Cuba. I recognize there’s still work to be done and that he’s not perfect. Still, Obama has had an active and relatively progressive tenure, and this is why I find myself forgiving some of his political transgressions. After all, just about all of the “bad” things about his time in office predated him; things like wiretapping, drones, and detainees at military prisons were started by others. Obama hasn’t stopped them, for sure, but he also inherited them and likely stepped into an already well-established culture that predated him by several decades. So, I’ve been thinking about this. I’ll keep defending him.

Progress. The universe is almost 14 billion years old. Astronomer estimates say there are over 100 billion galaxies. What’s the nature of progress?

Democracy. In writing about Jane Austen’s female leads, Azar Nafisi states in Reading Lolita in Tehran, “They risk ostracism and poverty to gain love and companionship, and to embrace that elusive goal at the heart of democracy: the right to choose.” Does this mean that the second episode of Black Mirror has a happy ending?

Vaccinations. Why are we debating this?

Compassion. My brother David is in San Antonio, Texas, continuing his year-long compassion tour. Meanwhile, I’m making arrangements to visit the child I sponsor in Jackson, Mississippi, and the number of impoverished public school children has risen. Compassion is doing whatever one can to help at least one other person.

Films of the imagination. Have things like reality TV and the John Cassavetes Award inured us to creativity? Does make-believe only exist in the realm of science fiction? Can’t I pull a story and fictitious world out of my ass and have it be believable on its own terms?

Athanasia. My short film got accepted into this year’s Queer Women of Color Film Festival! The story is completely fabricated. It looks at how death affects an aunt who loses her nephew and her relationship with her partner. Everyone has their own way of dealing with death. More details to come once I have them. (By the way, there are no submission fees for this festival, it’s local, and all films are free.)

What are your current thoughts?

 

A Letter to My Racist Pen Pal

This is technically, “The zoo has an African and the lion….”

Since we’re living in such a post-racial society, and because of the enlightened Obama protest in Arizona where people held signs that said, “47 percent Negro” and “Impeach the Half-White Muslim!”, Cinemulatto thought it’d be appropriate to check in with our racist Arizonan pen pal.

Hey there buddy,

I totally saw you in the news! Or, I think it was you. You were holding an “Impeach Obama” sign. That was you, right?

I know it’s not my turn to write. I just got so excited to see you in national news, I decided to give you a freebie.

First off, I was thinking of how lucky we were to meet in The American Conservative blog comments. My life has changed for the better since that fateful, high-web-traffic afternoon. Thanks for letting me be your troll!

I understand you’ve been having a hard time. This is also why I’m writing. Quite frankly, I’ve figured something out—I think your current bout of depression may be related to you being kind of a shitty person.

Don’t take that the wrong way. We all have our better moments and our better selves. And I use it to preface a few words of wisdom I’d like to pass along.

I know, I know—I’m always giving you advice. It’s the liberal in me! This one’s great, though. I happened to be thinking about business intelligence. Call it a byproduct of San Francisco gentrification. What’s business intelligence? It’s taking a bunch of data and seeing if the numbers tell you anything about your organization. Think of it as a way to maintain a competitive advantage. It’s basically using information to get ahead in business.

My advice to you: hone your racial intelligence. It’s using information to get ahead in life.

I can appreciate that you’re undereducated. I don’t fault you for that. You know I respect someone who’s at least trying. There wasn’t a single typo on your protest sign. I’m so proud of you.

Still, I have a few things to point out based on what I heard about the Desert Vista High School protest. I think you made a few incorrect assumptions about race. And song lyrics.

First off, by chanting “Bye Bye Black Sheep”, folks weren’t doing justice to the sheep, and may have inadvertently humanized Obama. The “black sheep” from the song was actually quite generous, compassionate, and respectful (three bags full of respectful!). Review the words and you’ll see.

Instead of “Impeach the Half-White Muslim,” the sign should’ve read either “Impeach the Mulatto Muslim” (a great little nod to this blog), “Impeach the Mixed-Race Muslim,” or “Impeach the Biracial Muslim”. I know terms of identity change all the time but the sign is otherwise kind of offensive.

I should also let you know: Obama isn’t Muslim. But, if he were, that’d be okay. I know how much you love the Constitution (we have so much in common!). We’re both aware that “A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.” Did you know, however, that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof?” Thereof means of the thing just mentioned. Just so you know.

I hope you find this helpful. And please let me know how things are going. Did you remember to wear sunscreen to the protest?

Always thinking of you,
Cinemulatto

MULATTO OF THE MONTH: PAULI MURRAY


The first black woman to be ordained as an Episcopal priest, Pauli Murray was mixed with Irish, Black, and Native American. Hospitalized twice for bad breakups with women, her “inverted sex instinct” was as bold as her feminist writings on the Civil Rights Act of 1964.

Check out the project dedicated to Pauli Murray, and remember there are currently more humanitarians than racists.

 

10 Lessons from a French Creole
Father

Sylvester and Dorothy Breaux’s Wedding, Compton, CA, September 1962

This year’s Father’s Day has come and gone. I spent a portion of it recalling that I forgave my father three years ago for how shitty he was to my family when I was growing up. He did horrible things—verbally and physically abused my mother; kept a strong, domineering leash on everyone; ruled with an iron fist and a loud voice; and was prone to tantrums and rage. Still, in hindsight and after an inevitable maturation process (and also during a moment of being massively drugged three years ago for a surgical procedure), I recognized moments of kindness I never saw before, moments previously clouded by teenage anger and a reluctance to see any other sides to my father’s personality. He once told me that if he could read and write better and could be anything, he would’ve been an author. He had to live with the daily reality of his family hating him. We never asked how he was doing, or how difficult it must have been for him to have a schizophrenic wife.

Well—at least we appreciated the damn good gumbo he made! Also the awful but highly memorable Zydeco records. Also the dance moves that looked like he was rubbing out spots on the floor with his feet. In other words, there were some pretty cool things I learned from my 6th-grade-educated and sometimes outwardly charming father, Sylvester Breaux.

Here are 10 of them.

  1. Stanford was named after Fred Stanford. When I was accepted to Stanford my dad thought it was funny that a TV show had the same name as my university. Me: “You mean Sanford and Son.” Him: “That’s what I said. Stanford and Son.”
  2. All good words end in c, as in the credic in credic card. Also, bra is pronounced bray, and Home Depot is either French or one of the Marx Brothers (as in DEH-poh).
  3. The best way to divide a cantaloupe for a family of 5 is into 10 pieces. That way each person can have “two each.” I spent years hearing “two each.” I used to hate this. But how sweet is it for a grown man to always get pleasure from equitably slicing a melon?
  4. If you have menstrual cramps, take Tums.
  5. You can make any sentence funny just by adding “to my bed” at the end. Try it. This is not to be confused with “between the sheets.”
  6. Whenever you’re laughing and you’d like to explain to someone what’s so funny, preface it by saying “I’m laughin’.” They’ll have sufficient time to prepare for your whimsical anecdote.
  7. A safe word for gay is funny, as in “your brother’s funny.”
  8. Jamaicans aren’t black. They’re Jamaican.
  9. Instead of turning out the lights on Halloween to indicate you’re not giving out any candy, yell “Ain’t nobody home!” when small, costumed children knock on the door.
  10. Establish your own bank by hiding all earnings inside coat pockets. Avoid checking or savings accounts.

MULATTO OF THE MONTH: SYLVESTER BREAUX

He mostly passed as Cajun, but Sylvester Breaux was mixed with white, black, and Native American. He was born on May 10, 1917, in time to serve as a truck driver in the 2nd world war, but missing Obama become the first black president—my father was staunchly Democrat but oddly racist; our next-door neighbors were always good family friends and were always black. He was an usher at our Catholic church and said his rosary every evening. I asked him once if the Depression was hard on his family and he responded, “Yeah.” (End of conversation.)

Wish you were around for further questioning. This month, we honor you nonetheless.