Of course I'm not racist. Now what's so bad about segregated proms?

The New York Times Magazine has a fascinating (if way too short) article in today's edition on the segregated proms at a rural Georgia public school.

What amazes me about the story is the nonchalant dichotomy in the white students' attitudes toward their white-only prom. (How is a white-only prom legal, you ask? Well, both proms are organized privately by parents, not by the school.)

On the one hand, it seems the students aren't particularly enthusiastic about the idea of splitting their proms by race. Interracial friendships and even a few interracial dating relationships are common, and it sounds like the kids have engaged in a few half-hearted attempts to end the practice in the past. "I don't think anybody at our school is racist," says one white student who calls the practice "awkward."

But when asked why the school still has segregated proms, the student gets all meh on us. "It's a tradition," he says, echoing the rationale many of his classmates apparently also gave.

This response, of course, leads to the maddeningly obvious question: If you don't like your segregated prom, then why don't you just do anything about it? Tell your parents you refuse to go any prom at which your black friends aren't allowed, and things will change in hurry.

So here we have the paradox: These white students have black friends, significant others and claim not to be racist in any way. Yet they don't care enough about the fact that these friends and significant others can't go to their prom by virtue of the color of their skin to do anything to change it. Are they just liars, or are the social pressures of the status quo greater than we're led to believe?

My guess: They don't really think their segregated proms are racist. They also don't think their black friends are hurt by the fact that they can't come to same prom as them ("After all, they get their own prom, and some of them even come to our prom entrance to cheer us on!"). So they see it as a minor inconvenience, a bow to tradition, something they have to do to oblige their parents, but nothing more significant than that. If everything's hunky dory between black and white students for the other 363 days of the year, these two days can't mess much up, can they?

Dead wrong, of course. By the time the more enlightened students realize that holding segregated proms (anytime, really, but especially in the 21st century!) is ridiculous and absolutely unacceptable, they're off in college and well beyond the point of caring about what their high school does anymore. I don't know much about how issues of race play out in the modern-day South (I've read this eye-opening book, but that's about it), but my initial guess is that the values behind this segregation are rooted so deep in the local culture that students have a difficult time realizing that there's anything wrong with them, even as they fervently disavow racism by name. 

Podcast #2: Get to know ... The Band

Back by popular demand (umm ... I think my sister said she listened to it) comes my second podcast. Same format as the first, but the recording quality is much better, thanks to a new computer.

I had fun putting this one together. Hope you enjoy it too.

Get to know ... The Band

Maybe we should be a little more discriminating in choosing our subculture's leaders.

My fellow Wheaton grad Sarah Pulliam had an entertaining Q&A with America's favorite plumber, Samuel Wurzelbacher (who is neither Joe nor Plumber. Discuss.) for Christianity Today. Most of it was the standard "the Republican Party has deserted true conservatism--let's get even more conservative and take back this country!!!1!" that we've been hearing from the Limbaugh crowd since November 5. Move on, nothing to see here.

But it did contain a few nuggets that were genuinely entertaining in their absurdity. The first was this gem toward the end of Joe's answer to the question, "What do you think about same-sex marriage at a state level?"

"I've had some friends that are actually homosexual. And, I mean, they know where I stand, and they know that I wouldn't have them anywhere near my children. But at the same time, they're people, and they're going to do their thing."

Joe's definition of "friend" must be reeeeeaaaalllly broad. Let's try a thought experiment: Think of all the people you're in reasonably regular contact with. Friends, acquaintances, mild annoyances, serious annoyances, enemies. How many of those people would you not let anywhere near your children? We're not talking about baby-sitting or even being left alone with your children; we're just talking about going near your children. Can you think of anyone who would fit this criterion? I sure couldn't (if I had children, that is).

What kind of level of distrust and loathing would you have to have to be at that point with such a person? Yet Joe calls people with whom he has this type of relationship "friends."* I'm going to go out on a limb and say that if you won't let them anywhere near your children, they're not your friends. In fact, they're much closer to being your mortal enemy.

*Another question: Why exactly is Joe so afraid of letting his children even be in the vicinity of a gay person? Because they'll spread their gay germs? I'd love to hear Joe parse his reasoning out on this one.

Second, we have this question and response:

Who do you see as emerging Christian leaders?

James Dobson. I love Dobson. I love John Eldridge's [sic] Wild at Heart. The last book I read was The Five Love Languages [by Gary Chapman].

James Dobson?!? James Dobson is a lot of things (incendiary, influential, intelligent, old), but emerging is not even close to being one of them. The man's 73 years old, for crying out loud! It's been 32 years since broke into the Christian subculture with Dare to Discipline. He's already stepped down as president, CEO and chairman of the board of Focus on the Family. He's now essentially a figurehead who's preparing to retire. That's about as far from emerging as you can get.

Joe concludes by answering the question, "What are a couple of Christian books you like?" which, incidentally, was not any of the questions that were put to him. My guess: He really doesn't keep up with who's who among Christian leaders, so he named the only two he could think of off the top of his head, plus another Christian book he had read recently. And that's fine for a random plumber from Ohio, but if you're aiming to become a prominent Christian leader,* you sure as heck had better know whom you're inheriting that mantel from. This is what happens when we thrust uninformed Joe Blows into undeserved positions of prominence and influence, and when they insist, against their better judgment, on staying there.

*Guess why Joe was giving this interview in the first place? He's traveling the country on a book tour.