Colin Powell as Uncle Tom

That's the phrase being used on another blog today. I'm sure it's not the first time that the label has been applied to the Secretary of State. I'm taking the issue out of context, I know, and I should probably be responding more directly on that blog. But, given some of the posting restrictions on that site which limit my ability to . . . uh . . . explore the issue, I'll just take it up here and then tell 'em about it later.

And the issue is that "Uncle Tom" is a racial epithet. If you follow the thread a bit, there was some gentle admonition to drop the term, and the response came back that Uncle Tom was, in fact, merely a polite substitution for something more incendiary. And a lively discussion ensued.

What bothered me was the fact that I knew instantly what term was being referred to.

I don't listen to the radio very much, but have, happily and finally, figured out how to program the buttons on the car radio. If I remember to turn the darned thing on, I can just press a button and get the local NPR affiliate. On a short errand this morning, I got to hear a brief bit of a program on the life of the late Thurgood Marshall. The program included a clip of Marshall talking about his father and how he had tried to instill racial pride in his son. He would, it appears, often compliment his son by saying, "That was very black of you." Marshall made the point clear that his father was speaking to be in direct contrast to the complimentary phrase then in current use, "That's very white of you."

I didn't hear the end of the program, but what I heard made me think about those phrases and the fact that I was quite familiar with the latter as well as many others. It was, for example, quite the thing some years ago to point out that one was able to do something, preferably outrageous, because "I'm free, white, and 21." It didn't take many more brain synapses to remember a few other race-related phrases held over from that time, locked, unfortunately in my brain. It made me wonder if there would ever come a time when these phrases were lost to common knowledge, when black and white Americans might ever meet socially, whether in harmony or in conflict, and have none of these phrase pop into mind and then be quickly censored.

Self-censorship or self-correction--either way--when will we come to a time when we simply don't think in those terms and have to correct ourselves?

I have seen the changes in my lifetime. My grandparents were fine people. But I remember my grandfather's disgust when I, Spy, one of my favorite programs, came on the TV one night. He was truly outraged that Bill Cosby would be given such a prominent and positive role on his TV set. Or my grandmother, speaking in complimentary terms, that a black man, who had come to her door in rural Louisiana, still "knew his place," and remained standing on the front step while waiting for her to get whatever he had come for.

My parents were fine people. My late father in particular spent a lot of time, when I was young, pointing out that, "There is some good in everybody." But Daddy, as fine a man as he was, was still a product of his culture and the times he lived in. Even though he probably censored himself more as time went on, the occasional phrase would still pop out. Rather late in his life he did something extraordinarily well. It might have been a difficult repair (he was quite handy) or maybe creating something new out of spare parts (he was quite handy). Whatever it was, he was proud of the accomplishment. He looked at me with a grin on his face and said, "Ain't many white people and no ------- at all can do that!" It was a novel phrase to me, and I thought that he was quite clever in saying it.

And now I can't get the phrase out of my mind. Racial epithets generally don't pop into my mind. Generally, I think, that is because race doesn't matter to me. I forget about it most of the time in my dealings with people. But when I have done something extraordinarily clever, I don't think, like Little Jack Horner, "What a good boy am I!" I'm not a boy. But I am white, and Daddy's clever saying will pop into my mind. And every time it does, I am conflicted, because I just did something damned fine, but that is just such a tacky way to pat myself on the back--even mentally.

My grandson does better, I think. We had to have a long discussion a few months back while he was studying for a history test about whether racism even still existed in America. He spent much of his young life living in the Northwest and wasn't exposed to either the language or, to a large extent, the thinking that still crops up in the South. (Don't think that I'm letting the Northwest off so easily as to suggest that there isn't yet a lot of work that needs to be done there. Racism is just less overt there.) The discussion was interesting because my grandson thought of racism in terms of issues that had been been targeted by legislation (integration, job discrimination, hate crimes), but he hadn't yet realized that racism comes in much subtler forms these days.

I suppose, based on my little "survey sample," that there has been a great deal of progress made over time. In fact, I know that's so very true. But racism continues in our society. Perhaps my grandson's grandchildren will neither know the words nor think the thoughts nor see the effects of racism, and we will have a society that looks at people without letting the amount of melanin in the skin affect our thoughts or deeds. I hope it won't take that long, but I sometimes think it will take longer.

That day is not hastened by calling Colin Powell "Uncle Tom." The term refers to him not only as a black man but also as a slave. It is not in any way benign, no matter whether the person using the term is white or black. Neither Colin Powell, no matter what his actions as Secretary of State may be, nor any other person of color deserves such a label. When such a label is used, it reflects the racism of the speaker, however benignly intended. When it is tolerated, it reflects the racism of the listener, however benignly inclined.

Whatever Colin Powell is doing--good, bad, or indifferent--his race is not the measure of how he does it.

This is not political correctness. If I were being politically correct, I would be implying that I make these statements because they are socially appropriate, but that I don't really believe them. Believe me: I believe this.