How it feels to be cancelled by Black Twitter

I suggested Obama reach out to angry white people. Lots of people didn't like that suggested.

In this photo, I’m arguing with then-South Carolina Mark Sanford months after he was caught on the “Appalachian Trial.” He had long claimed he would resign if he did something as irresponsible as, you know, sneaking out of the country and neglecting his duties as governor to visit his mistress. We had known each other for several years at that point and had had numerous discussions and arguments about all sorts of things. I’m posting it because it explains about the hard-to-pin down nature of my professional and personal life.

I once voted for Sanford and other Republicans when I believed in the idea that both parties should have to compete for the black vote. Those days are passed. The GOP feels too reckless and too stuck on power at all costs, even if it means embracing an open racist like Donald Trump. During those days, I was also prone to using my columns to forge cross-racial and bipartisan alliances on major issues. In that vein, I wrote a piece for Politico that a lot of folks didn’t much like. I thought about telling that story in my recent book “Why Didn’t We Riot? A Black Man in Trumpland.” I didn’t, though. So I’m telling it now:

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I wrote a piece for Politico magazine during the early months of the 2016 presidential election cycle suggesting that President Obama go on a listening tour through the parts of the country that were angriest with him, to those who called him the most god awful names and have distorted not only his policies but his humanity, particularly angry white conservative Americans.

Obama must reach out to angry whites

He wouldn’t go to tout his accomplishments or as part of a policy push. It wouldn’t have been about politics or hitting back at conservative pundits and lawmakers. He would have eventually made his way to places like Ferguson, all in an attempt to get an unfiltered view of what everyday Americans were thinking. Maybe new policies would have come of it, maybe not, but that would not have been the goal any way. Starting with angry whites would have been a way to upset the developing narrative and forced a new conversation that could have potentially help bridge a deepening racial divide in the country.

There were no guarantees, I wrote, but the alternative – allowing a significant minority of white people to think only Donald Trump hears them – was scarier.

For that, Black Twitter erupted, angry that I would suggest Obama give the time of day to people who’ve hated him even while his policies have helped improve their fortunes and literally saved some of their lives. I’m a naïve, misguided fool at best, a tool of “The Man” at worst. A black New York Times columnist, a black reporter for the Washington Post, a black ESPN commentator, a black political commentator for CNN, those associated with #OscarSoWhite were among those who found time to pan the piece on Twitter, including calling me stupid as a seemingly endless number of other black people chimed in to call me even worse names. My Twitter timeline was full of such vitriol for several consecutive hours over that weekend. I got the first whiff of the blowback during a 5-mile jog when my iPhone kept pinging every couple of seconds with a new notification from Twitter. The notifications kept coming nonstop. It felt like being buried under an avalanche. Every time I’d respond to one tweeter, 15 others would show up and pile on. A few people even got in touch with some of my black colleagues from previous newspapers and said they felt sorry for them because they once had to work with a black man like me. It was an experience during which I knew I had little to no chance of controlling. It wasn’t pleasant.

Frankly, I understood their ire. It was born of a reality in which a 12-year-old black boy playing with a toy pellet gun in a state men and women could openly carry real guns can be gunned down by police less than two seconds upon their arrival on the scene and later be defended by a prosecutor and “independent” law enforcement experts deeming the shooting reasonable. Their rage at my suggestion was understandable given that such things happen too frequently and too few of the white people I was asking Obama to listen to seemed not to give a damn about Rice or Trayvon Martin, or cared little that black boys are treated as potentially violent beings as early as pre-school. If more white people showed outraged at the everyday injustice too many black (and brown) people faced, I suspect #BlackTwitter wouldn’t have been taken aback by what I wrote. That’s why they believed an effort by Obama to directly reach out to angry whites would not only be a waste of time, but an insult, given all the problems black people still faced.

A quick sampling of the outrage sent via tweet:

“Obama can do nothing to appease the white minority you would have him appease, other than to resign. And you're serious? Not even.”

“they want him to b their door mat so they can maintain abuse w/out conscience”

“OH, so this whole time we just needed a smart man and white men don't cut the muster so it took the MAGICAL NEGRO?OK”

“President Obama has reached out to all during his term - too many times his hand has been slapped away”

“Black guy's white argument for Obama to put the gloves back on and bring supper when the bell rings, basically.”

A writer at Mediate wrote this:

Black People Not Amused by Politico Suggestion That Obama Reach Out to Whitey

On Twitter, black people have been delivering some blistering critiques of Bailey’s piece, including the observations that the author of the piece is black, is engaging in “tomfoolery,” is perpetuating the “magical negro” trope, and repeatedly identifies the burgeoning non-white majority as a “problem.” Here are a couple of snippets on the latter counts:

The ugly rhetoric just might force the country to finally contend with a problem many don’t even want to acknowledge exists: that we are fast becoming a nation in which minorities make up a majority of the population.

…But the current president—the nation’s first black president, born of a white mother, married to a descendant of slaves, father of 21st-century daughters—can use the allure and mystique of his office to speak to the American public, and all of its myriad, divisive factions, in a way no one else can.

Yes, and maybe he can open his mouth up wide and let all of the racism fly into him, then die.

The Mediate writer did what many others did, ignored one of the most important points I raised. After pointing out our changing demographics, I wrote this:

“As a result, tens of millions of white Americans, accustomed for so long to having all the benefits of being the majority, are scared out of their minds—and it is this fear that Trump is exploiting so effectively. These feelings are emerging not because whites are all racists, but because they don’t know what that might mean for them and their children.”

That writer, like many other respondents, seemed convinced that the white people I was referring to are forever lost causes, are so blinded by racial hatred and animus it is impossible to reach them, that they don’t have legitimate reason to be fearful or angry. My black critics believed Obama had done enough outreach and pointed to maybe his most important speech on race, the one he gave in Philadelphia when his 2008 campaign was on the rocks, in which he explained perfectly the complexity of race in this country.

It is true that Obama had purposefully walked a fine line while discussing race, so much so that while angry whites complain he has been too-race focused, black intellectuals took him to task for not being more overtly pro-black. It was also true his policies helped poor and working-class whites in ways many of his harshest white critics either don’t realize or simply don’t want to acknowledge. The Affordable Care Act has helped countless white Americans in rural parts of the country, such as Kentucky and millions of white seniors who’ve gotten relief from the prescription drug donut hole. Obama’s policies helped steer the country from the brink of a second Great Depression and brought white unemployment to below 5 percent. Federal tariffs on items like tires were a primary factor in a resurgence of manufacturing jobs during the Obama era in places like South Carolina; many of those jobs went to rural whites. Obama’s decision to use the power of the federal government to stabilize the domestic auto industry saved at least a million jobs white men and women continue working to this day. His stimulus package provided white Americans, and other Americans, one of the largest tax cuts in history and created still millions more jobs. And though he didn’t end the war in Afghanistan and even briefly authorized a surge, the U.S. had tens of thousands fewer troops in harm’s way in the Middle East by the time he left office than when he was sworn-in, meaning thousands of (mostly) poor and middle white families have a loved one at home or nearby instead of trying to dodge an IED.

Though pundits and political analysts have claimed white-working class voters chose Trump because they had felt left behind by both major political parties, Obama’s policies were among the most progressive we’ve had in decades – and often helped those white-working class white people who hated them. That’s why, according to those who were most upset with my suggestion, I was supposedly placing an unfair burden on Obama and, by proxy, all black people – to reach out to those who’ve shown the president nothing but contempt.

But they were wrong. I was asking Obama – then the most powerful man on the planet – to do something only he had the standing to do. If Obama was a white president, he wouldn’t have the leeway to reach out this way to the white Americans who believe they’ve been left behind. His position in the history of the U.S. presidency was that unique. I get that he was no “Magical Negro” and his outreach efforts likely would have fell on many white deaf ears. But he was skilled enough to reach just enough people to make a difference. Let us not forget that the difference between a President Trump and a President Clinton was less than 80,000 votes out of about 140 million cast. It wasn’t that he could reach all or most, or even a significant minority of angry white voters; it was that he should have tried one more time to reach what amounted to a rounding error of white voters.

Before I suggested Obama reach out to angry whites, I said George W. Bush should have reached out first to black people during his first term – to listen to our concerns in a way we knew we were being heard. That would have improved Bush’s overall standing and seeded the ground for building larger, cross-racial coalitions that could do the seemingly impossible. When all of the top Republican presidential campaigns traveled to my home city of Myrtle Beach for debates in 2008 and 2012, I told them the same thing. They brushed me off, saying they were busy trying to select a nominee and would get back to me later. They never did – and their standing with minorities has only worsened. I don’t believe politicians serve themselves, or the country, by only doing what’s expected. The more power they wield, the more I expect them to use it in ways that might seem unconventional but could lead to revolutionary change. I believed that when I was telling Bush to reach out to black people, believed that when I was telling Obama to reach out to angry white people, and believe that still. I haven’t asked the same of Trump for a simple reason, because his transactional open bigotry and racism are so obvious, he has demonstrated time and again the only thing that moves him is self-interest, and what I’m asking is a self-less act that is more likely to end in backlash than pats on the back, even if the goal gets accomplished.  

That’s why I knew my suggestion for Obama wasn’t ultimately about making white people comfortable or soothing their pain at the expense of black people and Latinos and Native Americans and Asian Americans. It would have been an initial step in a long, painful process of dealing with this country’s deepening racial divide, which Trump has only widened, and irrational fear of rapidly changing demographics might lead to a further dividing. It was, in my mind, a way to clear the decks, a way to ensure that divide didn’t derail a burgeoning bipartisan movement for criminal justice reform. It was a way to get more people to see beyond themselves, to recognize the common causes they share across racial boundaries. Policing and criminal justice reform shouldn’t just be a cause for #BlackLivesMatter, but also small government Tea Party enthusiasts.

The middle class and poor Americans share economic angst regardless of race. All would benefit if there was less gun violence in places like Chicago because of a lowered tax burden and stronger, more stable families and communities. All would reap the rewards of fewer people going to prison for things better handled by a better safety net, and fewer still being placed in the morgue because of drug overdoses. That’s why it was ironic that those who often (rightly) plead with the media to remember the complex humanity of young black boys and girls who get in trouble were bothered because I asked Obama to do the same with angry whites.

Still, I get why my black critics are tired of having to seemingly cater to the feelings of white people and feel as though it’s nonsensical to expect black people to constantly bend over backwards for those in the more favored racial position. I know that frustration. I live it every day. That’s why I didn’t make that suggestion of them – I made it of Obama. Those with the most power have the most responsibility.

Obama’s most ardent supporters were right to be disturbed by the ugliness so many angry whites showed him since before he got into office and throughout his tenure. Every decent-thinking American should be disturbed. They were right to point out the obstinance of the GOP leadership, which decided to oppose Obama at every turn even when the country was in the midst of a downward economic spiral of which no one knew how far we would fall. It made sense that they were angry with Fox News, as I was, and Trump and others who showed little more than disrespect and contempt for the nation’s first black president.

I get it. I also get that no matter how many times one of his critics giddily passed along racist emails depicting Obama as an African witch doctor or with food stamps and ribs on the White House lawn, Obama remained the most powerful man in the world.

Every time they called him nigger, Obama remained the leader of the free world.

Every time Sens. Lindsey Graham and John McCain called press conferences to take him to task about his foreign policy decisions or declared him socialist, every time Speaker Paul Ryan covered for his far-right caucus’s inability to accept reasonable immigration reform by blaming the president, Obama remained, as his predecessor so ineloquently put it, the decider. That was no small thing, the power he wielded, the power he could use during his final year in office.

Not only that, Obama had proven he had been willing to do things others say he shouldn’t and ignored those who said nothing good would come of it if he did. He’d been burned a few times taking that approach, including his administration’s decision to fortify our border with Mexico like it never had before and deporting more undocumented residents than Bush in the hopes of paving the way for comprehensive immigration reform, and his exhaustive attempts at a Grand Bargain and health reform compromises despite cries from his supporters.

That instinct and boldness also, though, helped him succeed where others had failed. He accomplished health reform by placing conservative principles in the heart of the law even as conservatives remained steadfastly opposed. He got Assad to give up just about all of his chemical weapons without launching a missile or placing an American boot on the ground even as his critics called him weak for not holding fast to his red line. He secured an Iranian nuclear agreement independent experts called historic and potentially game-changing as conservative members of Congress invited the prime minister of Israel to speak in Washington without the president’s knowledge and reached out directly to Iranian leaders to try to scuttle the deal. He re-ordered relations with Cuba, overturning a half-century-long policy that did not bear fruit, even in the face of those demanding he stick to the status quo.

He got rid of “don’t ask, don’t tell,” opened up all military positions to women and secured a climate agreement with most of the countries in the world, ignoring those who wanted him to fail or thought he would.

How was it magical thinking to believe a man who could accomplish all of that, despite the obstacles he faced, was tough and smart enough to go and listen to angry white people to put just enough of a dent in Trump’s support to avoid the disaster the Trump presidency has become for so many black and brown people?

I wasn’t asking Obama to be magical. I was asking him to view angry white people the way black people (rightly) demand that white people see Michael Brown, as the complex human beings worthy of respect despite their imperfections.