John McCain and “gooks”

I’ve read this article a few times, during the coverage of John McCain this past week. “When McCain’s anti-Asian slur stalled his ‘Straight Talk Express,’ he doubled down. Then, he apologized” speaks to two of many questions about identity language that come up in conversations that I facilitate:

• Why is it OK for some people to use identity slurs and not others?
• Is it really OK?

If you’re unfamiliar with the term “gook,” its etymology as a derogatory term for Asians is murky, but one theory is that it derives from the Korean word for Korea, which is “Hanguk.” (Incidentally, “guk” means people–hardly an insult in and of itself. But its abbreviation, transliteration and usage have imbued “gook” with its disparaging connotation.)

McCain used this word openly. His unapologetic defense of using “gook” in 2000 even involved repeating the term):

“I was referring to my prison guards, and I will continue to refer to them in language that might offend some people because of the beating and torture of my friends. I hated the gooks, and I will hate them as long as I live.”

At this point, identity politics might dictate that no one has the right to tell a POW how to refer to the people who didn’t just detain him, but tortured and permanently disabled him.

I believe that the rules of what you get to say about a group do indeed depend in part on your relationship to that group. So when non-black people complain that black people “get” to say the n-word, but they themselves don’t, I agree with them that the rules are different. But the question of whether those rules are unfair requires us to consider that black people have to live with the impact of the n-word, while non-black people who may want to say it get to do so without living its impact.

In McCain’s case, the rule had a twist: do you get to use a slur for a group that has treated you badly and even inhumanely? That’s the question that also underlies the controversy about Sarah Jeong’s anti-white people tweets: does experiencing racism give you permission to say derogatory, dehumanizing things about white people? Please know that I am not comparing Jeong’s experiences with McCain’s. I wouldn’t even know where to begin or what the point would be. I’m just connecting the dots of a theme across their very different stories about discerning when it’s OK to speak inhumanely about another group of people. What’s the answer?

I appreciate the response from the San Jose Mercury News, in response to McCain’s defense of his language:

“No one expects the former POW to speak kindly of his torturers. But their sin was being sadistic thugs, not being Asian.”

It’s notable that McCain did apologize for repeating the slur and promised not to continue doing so. The question remains: was that the right thing to do?

I believe there is no easy, clear, universal answer. However, I would invite that it’s worth considering the question the Mercury News implied, which is basically: Is an identity slur the most accurate way to get at what you’re trying to say about the group, or may it confuse the real issue of what they did with who they are?

Because in the end, if McCain was standing up against the use of torture, and if Jeong was speaking out against racism, it ultimately wasn’t just “offensive” or “insensitive” to choose the words they did. It was potentially ineffective to their causes.

How to respond when someone tells you what you just said is racist

I can’t take it anymore.

By “it,” I mean the coverage of Andrew Gillum’s candidacy in the Florida governor’s race. I have no idea what Gillum’s platform or policy ideas are because that critical information has virtually been eclipsed by his opponent Ron DeSantis’ comments, and an opposition robocall that, if not from DeSantis’ campaign, is at the very least for it.

In short, after referring to Gillum as “an articulate spokesman,” Republican gubernatorial candidate Ron DeSantis warned of a Gillum victory, “The last thing we need to do is to monkey this up by trying to embrace a socialist agenda with huge tax increases and bankrupting the state.”

When DeSantis was called out for racist comments, his campaign responded thusly:

“Ron DeSantis was obviously talking about Florida not making the wrong decision to embrace the socialist policies that Andrew Gillum espouses. To characterize it as anything else is absurd.”

Then, today, the NY Times reported on an anti-Gillum robo-call to Florida voters:

“Well, hello there,” the call begins as the sounds of drums and monkeys can be heard in the background. I is Andrew Gillum. We Negroes . . . done made mud huts while white folk waste a bunch of time making their home out of wood an’ stone.”

Once again, the DeSantis campaign responded, calling the robocall: “appalling and disgusting.”

And current Governor Rick Scott tweeted:

“There is no room for any racial politics here in Florida — none. Florida is a melting pot of people from all over the globe, and we are proud of it. No attempts to divide people by race or ethnicity will be tolerated, from anyone. THIS. STOPS. NOW.”

To respond in kind myself, I’ll post here (because I don’t tweet):

Politics in Florida and everywhere have always been racial. And gendered. And socioeconomically and class-informed. And otherwise fundamentally human and thus inextricably linked to our social identities, even if we don’t think a particular identity matters. In fact, especially when we don’t think it matters because that’s a reasonable indicator of exclusion. With all due respect to Governor Scott, when all the candidates are white men, politics are still about race and gender and class, sexuality, religion, abilities and every other aspect of identity that informs our status, access to resources and opportunities and systemically entrenched privileges and disadvantages. Not only because of who the candidates are, but because of the diversity of people whom they are tasked with serving.

And can we just call what’s racist, racist? I agree that the robocall is “appalling and disgusting,” but let’s be clear that what makes it “appalling and disgusting” is that it activates racial stereotypes denigrating black people as a group with the impact of  perpetuating and gaining advantage from discrimination. And that these stereotypes are part of a historic and current system of beliefs and attitudes that continue to incite violence and marginalization on a mass scale against black and brown people.

But wait, you say, how do you know someone’s motives? What if, like DeSantis, whoever is behind the robocall didn’t intend anything racist?

To that I say, racism doesn’t require individual intent to have not just individual but greater social impact. Social norms provide all the intent needed. Furthermore, I don’t even have to do or say anything to advance or sustain racism. All I have to do is not act. Or deny that racism is even a thing.

And that brings me to how the DeSantis campaign handled being informed that what DeSantis said was racist. But enough about them. Let me ask you: how would you handle it if someone told you that what you just said is racist? (Or how have you handled it in the past?)

Personally, I’ll say it stings. And that then, I’ve had a choice about what to do with that hurt.

Here’s how I try to respond.

• Notice my instinct to recoil, and perhaps to deny, explain, erase my impact by championing my intent, protest or turn the tables (maybe by “what about-ing” what someone else has said)
• Shut up for a moment.
• Find my gratitude that someone has–even if harshly–bothered to let me know how they heard what I said. Because they had other options, including letting me continue to say things like that and also writing me off as an ignorant bigot.
• Add that perspective to what I thought I already knew, instead of trying to cancel out or zero-sum our perspectives. Because the truth is that it is possible for someone to use the word “monkey” without racist intent, and it is well-documented that monkeys and apes have been racist tropes across ages and world cultures. What does that add up to? Not that “monkey” is either innocent or racist. That “monkey” is both innocent and racist, and I don’t get to choose what you hear. People have made that word mean more than its original denotation. And we can’t unring that bell. On that note: It’s OK if I didn’t know something I said was racist, but once I know, I have to decide if I care. Because if I don’t care that what I said is also racist, I should admit, if only to myself, that that’s what my reaction is really about, instead of pretending it’s about how they’re wrong.
• Thank them.
• Notice if the sting persists, and figure out what I can do differently to avoid making the same mistake, and also to be present for my next, new mistake.