If I am being completely honest, I have to say that it took me about three tries and a couple of months to finally listen to the song the whole way through. It triggered so much frustration in me that I could not handle it. Nevertheless I knew from trustworthy sources that the song was amazing and I should give it a shot. Once I finally got myself to listen all the way through, I realized what made the song so good. It portrayed in a raw manner the opinion of the two sides in a very polarized, old, and tiring conflict. I wanted to explore my feelings and opinions of it. When I watched the video, all sorts of frustrations and understandings were crashing into me. Nevertheless, as a Mexican, I am further away from understanding than my partner who is American. Plus, she is a much better writer than I am. Therefore I asked her to write a piece on the video. She could write whatever she wanted, triggered feelings, aesthetic analysis, etc. She gave me the following piece:
If you have not watched the video yet, here it is. You should definitely watch it before reading the piece.
I went to high school with guys like that. Pimpled, pale, teenage boys trying to act like men by discussing guns and hunting and their newly discovered interest in porn. I listened to their stripper jokes and their jew jokes and their occasional, bold but awkward use of the n-word. And when I whirled around in my seat during economics or religion class seething, my heart racing, I found it was impossible to argue with them. Everything I said was met with a slur or a crude joke about my period or what they would rather be doing with me. “Chill out. It’s just a joke, quit being such an uptight bitch.”
It was as if they had some unspoken power over me that I could never quite place or disrupt. The “Boys will be boys” mentality.
The Trump phenomenon is one that academics, politicians, journalists, and artists alike will attempt to deconstruct and explain for generations to come. The way he got away with the outrageous, the way he galvanized a population of young, white men to carry tiki torches, scream “lock her up,” and unabashedly abuse immigrants and people of color continues to shock the world. While it is tempting to simplify what happened (for there is comfort in understanding) Trump’s rise to power is complex and difficult. It forces Americans to examine the way democracy functions in our country, to come face to face with the blatant racism and misogyny that continues to plague our society, and to acknowledge the moral complicity from moderates who voted for him despite his actions.
Joyner Lucas’ “I’m not racist” is a powerful take on the divisiveness of the Trump era. It stuns the viewer with its unrestrained lyrics, emotional delivery, and raw aesthetic. A young white man sits across the table from a young black man. They take turns sharing their view of one another. Lucas lays everything on the table - the politics of race and the devaluation of black life, police corruption, welfare and entitlements, rap, fatherhood, the value of hard work, the meaning of “the American dream.”
I encourage every white American, especially white men, to spend some time with the video. Watch it several times and focus on the lyrics of both men. Write them out yourself. Repeat what the Trump supporter says out loud in an empty room. Which words feel sour in your mouth? Which sound familiar? Which have you said before?
I can’t speak to the experiences of people of color and I won’t comment on them here. I can only my own whiteness. I’ve had to reckon with the ignorant things I’ve heard myself say, the arguments I repeated before I challenged them. In Lucas’ video, I recognized much of what I saw and heard, and I want to spend some time writing about my experiences with the man you see in that video. I can tell you what I know and understand about him. I can tell you what he doesn’t know and understand about people who aren’t like him.
What struck me initially about that video, was the imagery: a stark room the picture of a bearded, white man, a paunch, shirt ironed and tucked in. Pants buckled and sitting tightly but firmly on his waist, held up by a belt. And most notably, the fiery red of Trump’s infamous hat.
“Make America Great Again.” Words speak volumes.
The Trump supporter asks numerous questions - all of which I’ve heard before, seen as valuable arguments among conservatives. Why haven’t people of color caught up yet? Why aren’t fathers in the home? Why do they celebrate drugs and fast money and women in the music and in their culture? While it’s true that many of these could be thought of us profound misunderstandings - of history and of culture, brought on by a lack of education and the segregation of our communities, these misconceptions still feel incomplete. Is something else at play? Something so deeply embedded into the American psyche about the source of a human being’s intrinsic value? What is the Trump supporter really talking about, what truly disgusts him about handouts and entitlements - and how is it connected to the American conception of race? And perhaps most puzzlingly, what appeal does a con-man real estate billionaire have to a white blue-collar worker?
I began writing this piece while reading Hillary Rodham Clinton’s memoir, What Happened, which is her agonizing but ultimately uplifting reflection on the tumultuous events of the 2016 election. Her book sheds light on the aspects of American life that display its strengths but also our profound weaknesses. The United States of America is founded upon a Protestant-ideal that prosperity derives from hard work. Poverty is not accidental, or circumstantial, or a systematic effect produced from hundreds of years of injustice. Rather, poverty is a symptom of moral failure. This has been passed down through generations of white American families - from the first puritan colonists to the founding fathers to the “greatest generation” - great because they pulled themselves out of the poverty of the depression and built a wealthy nation out of the second world war. Missing from the narratives is the history of the slavery, the American project of imperialism, the riches that come from war, and the depletion of natural resources, all of which aided in the creation of the United States as the most prosperous nation on earth. But this foundational idea, that one can pull oneself up by his bootstraps and become rich is deeply embedded into the hearts of many Americans. And in many ways, it is beautiful and it is true. But in many other ways, this dream is incomplete, it glazes over the less visible barriers to success, those that make the slow climb out of poverty much more daunting. If poverty then, is the sign of moral failure, then naturally anyone who fairs to improve upon their lives has failed.
The middle-class white men who came out in droves for Trump, the individuals that Lucas represents in his rap, fail to understand two things. First, that the world that has served them thus far, does not provide those same advantages for people of color and women. The idea that one can pull themselves up by their bootstraps, doesn’t hold true. There is a glass ceiling, a limitations, constructed barriers that make it different for women and people to access the resources and advantages so readily available to white men.
This brings me back to my original question. He is the stereotype of the blue-collar working man, who with his beer belly, is not the picture of health. One of the most befuddling aspects of Trump’s rise to power has been, “how could white blue-collar men feel as though they could relate to a crook New York real estate billionaire? Does Trump represent the “what could be”
I went to school with guys like that. Young men who didn’t see a clear path ahead that their fathers and grandfathers had enjoyed. Young men who were taught to be threatened by the intelligence of young women. And then I watched them grow up. I watched their painfully unoriginal jokes morph into terrifying ideologies devoid of reason or substance. I watched their self-consciousness, their awkwardness, their feelings of inadequacy blossom into a false sense of superiority over women and anyone who didn’t share their skin tone. When the 2016 election began to heat up, thanks to the glories of social media, I could easily find out who they supported for president. In Trump they found their champion.
I knew how easily they would fall for Trump’s lies. I saw how they When there are no consequences for actions - even as young boys - no understanding develops for those.
Society is built for them, and when they screw up, they get endless opportunities to try again.
At best Trump’s supporters do not understand that institutions function differently for women and people of color, as the man in Lucas’ video seems to think.
I struggled with the end of Lucas’ rap and I struggled with the end of What Happened. Both books are alive with a scene of bittersweet, but powerful hope. In Lucas’ video The two men, exhausted and emotionally drained, stand up and they hug. The camera pans cyclically around them and while it’s a touching moment, we see the tension present in the hug - the white man’s confusion, the black man’s restraint. Does the white man really get it I wondered? He seems somewhat more at peace. He seems like he can breathe, put this away for now, and maybe worry about it later. He can reflect for a few moments but then he can return to his regular life. His counterpart can’t. He lives in a different world. Hillary’s book ends with a scene at the convocation for the graduating class of 2017 of Wessely. She gave the commencement speech years ago as a senior upon her own graduation. She now returned to tell hundreds of strong, empowered young women, “keep going.”
I hope both the piece and the video triggered some thought on your side. Please feel free to share them.
Best,