(i’ve edited this post a little bit to reflect some more thoughts on the passage of prop. 8 in california)

i poured myself a glass of rum and coke, on the rocks. the networks hadn’t called it, but i did. when PA and OH went, i thought, it’s over. i looked across the room, filled with black folks that i loved, everyone waiting. waiting to suspend the disbelief that hung over the room that evening.

we were a jaded crew. organizers, communications staff, writers. born and raised of military families, black panthers, royalty, and southern decadence. some of us celebrated as states were called, trying to hide our fear of recalls, voter intimidation, apathy. some of us did nothing– we didn’t want to get excited. hours passed and we drank, ate, talked. we waited.

but then, the networks finally called the presidency for obama. we rocketed from our seats, cheering and hugging, some were crying. you could feel the energy in the room, expended from years of working so hard. we were tired and re-energized, weary but triumphant.

we looked at each other in amazement. we said “we can win something.

as soon as obama gave his triumphant victory speech, we all went outside, needing some air and wanting some space to scream. we were surprised to find a few others, craving the same. cars honking. people screaming. we took the corner of broadway and grand, and as we all texted our friends, the crowd grew into the hundreds.

oakland was alive, if for a night. oakland was a city again as we drummed, hugged, drank, danced, howled in the streets. cars passing by packed with people cheering in victory.

i stood there thinking, this feels like another country. when was the last time people in the US took to the streets (nationwide, it turns out) for a president. and it hit me. it wasn’t for him or for the office he will soon hold. people were tired and beaten down. we finally got a taste of economic disaster in this country, a taste of nationwide decline, and, yes, a taste of fascism. so, we took to the streets until the early morning in jubilation and shedding off the past 8 years, hopeful for what may come.

the next day, the world hadn’t changed all that much. prop 8 in california lost. white gay men were up in arms, blaming black folks for the stinging loss. unfortunately, they voted overwhelmingly for the proposition, which takes away the right of gay folks to marry in california. i struggle with the level of racist vitriol that comes from those folks. they are in many ways like my father, a liberal white gay man. i want to be mad, but all i can do is laugh it off. this time, though, i have to speak up. 

while many groups voted for the passage of proposition 8, black folks are being singled out for not caring about civil rights during such an historic moment. the irony is thick, but im used to it. it was, as the president-elect would say, more of the same. and here’s why. 

the gay advocacy groups have not built up a ground game in black communities. no field offices, big rallies, nothing. plenty in san fran and in west hollywood. but when i drove in east oakland, they were absent.

they chose instead to run ads toward the end of the campaign, when they knew they were losing, highlighting key moments in the civil rights movement. they hired Samuel L. “Snakes On A Plane” Jackson to narrate these pithy ads. those ads did nothing but beat the civil rights movement into black folks’ heads, as if they didn’t know what it stood for. as if their parents hadn’t fought it. in short, they were incredibly patronizing.

you can’t just TELL someone something is a civil rights issue, you have to show them how it is a civil rights issue. don’t believe me? what if i told you the oppression of atheists and agnostics was a civil rights issue, akin to the 60’s civil rights movement? life or death. freedom or oppresion. here’s a flashcard with MLK’s face on it. there, i told you, now get on board.

that’s a stretch, but you get my point. you simply can’t build real solidarity without building real relationships across communities. any real ads with good messaging targeted toward black folks were done by independent operators, in many cases black gay people who didn’t have the resources to run them widely. so while my white gay brothers and sisters were quick to blame the black community as a critical outpost, they didn’t think it prudent from the beginning to fund their black gay comrades to organize their own. interesting. telling. 

on the other hand, yes on 8 campaigners had an excellent presence in black communities. and they lied left and right, telling pastors they’d be forced to perform gay marriages. and they passed out fliers with obama’s image, with a quote: “i don’t support gay marriage”. they were in south central, east oakland, compton– and they were there EARLY. they were at church, in line at the market, and on the roads. in short, it was brilliant. they convinced voters who voted for change to vote for more of the same simultaneously.

but this storm has been coming, long before any of the white gay establishment bothered to pay attention. the right’s takeover of black churches and institutions was viewed as an interesting article on the huffington post maybe, but nothing we should be concerned about. yeah, til we lost our right to get hitched. 

let me be crystal clear. if the movement for full gay inclusion is going to be successful, gay advocates cannot afford to sit on the sidelines on issues that matter to black folks. you can’t ignore the black community, and then call them a failure when you realize we’re critical to full inclusion. i’m not talking about patting backs here. when black gay men and womenn are consistently murdered, where is the white gay community? when black gay folks are targeted by police officers, where is the white gay community? when funding for hiv/aids services dries up in black communities (not talking about AMFAR research here, folks), where are the white gays? 

shit, our own big, fabulous, gay house is burning and you’re surprised that our FAMILIES aren’t on board? i haven’t even gotten into the plethora of issues that affect the larger black community. we’re talking foreclosures, unemployment, the drug war (not just your neighbor’s meth habit), sexual assault, human trafficking. yeah, its deep. but if you want to win, you gotta get into it. 

i always say, when the ceo of nike can’t sell a horrible sneaker, he doesn’t get on a shareholder call and complain about dumb consumers. he makes a better product. we, my fabulous brothers and sisters, need to build a better movement. 

the failure here was not of black voters to wake up and respect your gaylandia. it was in the organizing strategy (or lack thereof) on behalf of the no on 8 campaign to build bridges and help EVERYONE see us as people who matter. and thats not going to happen over the course of a few months, folks. people vote against their own interest all the time, so to expect them to vote in the interests of others without taking the time to really build alliances is sorely misguided. 

so as wednesday dawned, black folks were still in the same box. pathologically desired by many, but greatly maligned by those same folks. and that’s the lesson for me. our wins were magnificent tuesday, but we still have a great distance to go. we have to build a better movement for justice, if we are to achieve real victory, in tangible means that touch peoples lives.

and let me be clear about something else. i want to get married just as much as the next gay. but, hunny, the arc of history is long. like dr. king, im more interested in bending it toward justice. how about you?

where to begin? how does a city so boring, so spread out– well, so dead, push a brooklynite like me to start a blog that’s partly inspired by it?

let me back up.

i moved here a couple of years ago looking for a break. 12 million people is a lotta damn people, but i already felt like i knew all most of them. i was feeling crowded and i was looking for something new. i only knew a few people from my professional life when i landed here. that circle’s grown a bit, but i’ve got a much smaller crew here than i ever did at any given time in nyc. maybe that’s a good thing. who knows. 

anyway, in the 2+ years that i’ve been here i’ve experienced some of the best of the bay area. the beaches. the organic restaurants, organic farmer’s markets, organic coffee, organic greeting cards. organic toilet paper. zipcars. really, its been great. 

given that i’m a black dude from brooklyn and i like things like parks, house music, hip-hop, sunshine, and other black people, everyone i knew said i should move to oakland. it was going to be just like brooklyn. 

first of all, it wasn’t. i learned that real quick. “what you mean BART stops at midnight, only has a handful of stops in oakland, and costs me 7 dollars to go round-trip to SF?” “oh i can’t eat after 9? guess i better stock up on groceries…” “you mean the same clubs you mentioned last night are the ONLY clubs here?” i’ll stop there, and i assure you, i can keep going. 

but there was something about oakland that kept me here. maybe i just needed a break. maybe i just wanted a change. or, perhaps, the city itself had been waiting to exhale and i realized i was here to witness that moment. yes, there was a vibrant energy here, there always was. but these days, that energy flutters into the wind, like a dust storm reaching its end, leaving a brown mess in its wake. whose job is it to turn that flutter into something real, something great? and who gets to come to the party?

the fact of the matter is simple: this is a dying city. the murder rate here is disproportionately, stunningly high. a lot of it is drug-related, but some of it isn’t. black folks, who were the backbone of this city for years, are now fleeing the bay area in search of more affordable rents and the chance to buy a home before they die (well, then they face foreclosure, but that’s another blog). those who are left can barely afford to stay and there just aren’t any jobs, unless you work in silicon valley. or perhaps they’re getting locked up.

the city is damn near bankrupt and can’t afford to keep city hall open more than 4 days a week. the mayor, a former star legislator, who oaklanders begged to take over the city and in his younger years was a great orator not unlike the Senator from Illinois, makes no secret of hating his job. and, he may have dementia anyway so his wife runs city hall to the chagrin of everyone who works there. the city council is packed with a healthy assortment of lefty liberals, seasoned political hacks, and centrists who would feel really out of place anywhere else. 

and yet, there’s a whole host of folks trying to make this a better place, a model for the country. committed long-time residents who refuse to leave. policy wonks. community leaders, service workers, and good neighbors. there’s a gaggle of non-profits here, both servicing the residents of oakland and crafting better policies. i challenge anyone who has seen a housing project in oakland to go to nyc and see the equivalent. then tell me that advocates here haven’t made a difference. people here just give a crap about each other, they pay attention to politics. civic engagement is a past-time here. from the black panthers to the free speech movement in berkeley, people here have always been trying. they just spend too much time arguing about it. 

i mean, really, you just can’t ignore a city like this. even if its for the wrong reasons. because this isn’t just about oakland– this is an american story. and i want it to be told— from oakland, to detroit, to st. louis, to new orleans, to newark. and yes, brooklyn too. 

so, this is my attempt at putting everything into perspective. i’m a politico, a lover, a culture hawk, and newsjunkie. i’m hoping thats enough for me to connect the dots between here and the rest of the world. 

so, welcome. wish me luck and i hope you’ll join me. 

the transplant.