Equality?

I’ve been spending my spare moments recently musing on the incredible variety of debates the presidential candidates are trotting through with their dog-and-pony acts. I was just starting to develop some opinions on the new theme of special interest groups hosting debates to discuss “their” issues – the MTV-affiliated homosexual debate, the Latino debate by Univision, and most recently the debate on African-American issues.

Then on NPR this weekend I heard a social scientist discussing his latest findings, which indicate that – completely unconsciously – white teachers tend to punish black students more harshly for behavior they see as rowdy or disruptive. And I started thinking. This expert was talking about the fact that, despite the supposed gains in race relations over the past fifty-odd years, there are still prejudices buried in the American psyche, except now they are subtle and so deep down that even the people who have them don’t always realize it, and that causes things like the unequal treatment of students according to their race. So I wonder. How much of the gains in civil rights and equality for all are counteracted by this trend of separating everyone according to what group they’re a part of? We may not have debates for women’s issues and men’s issues, but at the rate we’re going they can’t be far behind.

Yes, of course, these groups have their own concerns that don’t necessarily affect the rest of the population. But they also have a heck of a lot more concerns that are exactly the same as everyone else’s. We all wonder about social security, and child care, and health insurance, and probably have strong opinions on abortion and the environment and the conflict in Iraq and Afghanistan. But instead of having a series of general debates, where the candidates field questions from anyone and everyone about every kind of issue, we have to split it up. So we focus on our differences. And on top of that, we make it seem as though the issue of gay rights or illegal immigration or equality doesn’t affect anyone except the small percentage of the population that identifies itself as gay, or Latino, or African American. Why?

Now, I know that my fifty-something African American neighbor has some unique concerns about the way this country is going. And so does the family of recent immigrants from Mexico who live next door, not least the evangelical Christian pastor who is the head of that household. But as a young Jewish woman, I also have concerns that are different from those of my neighbors. What are we going to do, break it down so that every possible permutation of a special interest group has its own debate for the candidates? No wonder the campaigning is starting so early. At this rate, the candidates are going to have to travel door to door in packs, until they talk to every single individual man, woman, and possibly child in the United States.

There is also the minor detail that just because I am not part of one of these groups in no way means that I am not concerned about their rights or the issues they want to raise. Some of my best friends are gay, as is a cousin, and I know that I will never be able to attend their weddings. I will never have the joy of watching them unite themselves with the person they love. Why can’t I go to a debate where I am able to hear the answers the candidates give them when they ask why that is? And when my friends who are treated as second class citizens (or worse) because they speak with an accent, or because of the color of their skin, ask what the candidates are going to do about the issues that matter to them, why can I not be a part of that audience to express my anger and my shame that my country treats human beings this way? Is it not supposed to matter to me, because I’m not gay or Latino or black?

We spend so much time lamenting the lack of true equality, and then we throw any chance of it right out the window when we rush to separate ourselves from our fellow citizens as much as possible. I am sure that the various groups hosting these debates for the candidates mean well, and I know they want to hear the answers to the questions affecting their constituency. But I know that some of those questions are of interest to me as well, even if I am not the same race or age or sexual orientation. And I also know that I would not have even thought of attending the debate hosted by Tavis Smiley, no matter how interested I might be in the opinions expressed, because the effect of a debate that so carefully limits its audience is to make anyone who is not expressly invited to be part of that audience feel unwelcome. I would have felt deeply uncomfortable walking in the door, just because of the color of my skin. And isn’t that precisely what the men and women who fought for civil rights were trying to stop?