American Objectification
By Reed Galen
In Ken Burns’ seminal documentary about the Vietnam War, Marine veteran John Musgrave promised himself he wouldn’t kill another human being as long as he was in country. He then rattled off a litany of Asian slurs and said he’d kill as many of them as he could. “Turn the subject into an object. It’s racism 101.”
Apparently heeding those words, long-time comedian and television star Roseanne Barr’s tweet about Valerie Jarrett, a former top aide to President Barack Obama shook the media and political world. Tweeting that Jarrett looked like a cross between the Muslim Brotherhood and Planet of the Apes. Barr was roundly denounced on line and ABC cancelled her show in short order.
Barr’s comments specifically, and the objectification of the “other” more generally don’t necessarily have to be about race, though that may be a major component. All it takes is the willingness to look at someone you don’t know, have never, and will likely never, interact with, and pass judgment on them. Said judgment often involves the implicit or explicit resolution that the “other” is not worthy of concern, empathy or dignity.
This dynamic is not new, rare or specific to any region. From the helots in Sparta to our own shameful history with slavery, humans have perpetrated objectification upon one another. Even now, in 2018, the tradition continues.
Donald Trump’s presidential campaign was predicated on “us vs. them” — the rapists and murders from south of the border. He expanded the lexicon recently with the addition of “monsters” when ostensibly referring to MS-13 gang members, but who can be sure anymore.
After his election, Trump’s influence swept across America’s fruited plane — from Brooklyn, New York to the holler of Appalachia and on to the Pacific coast. Not the cause, but the catalyst, Trump’s unexpected victory has led to cultural recriminations.
The urban and cultural elite turned on those Rust Belt and Midwestern voters to whom Trump spoke (as Obama had before him.) They were no longer enlightened mid-country Americans who were willing to elect the nation’s first African American president. Now they were viewed as country rubes who were once again clinging to their God and guns.
As David Joy described it in his essay for The Bitter Southerner, “So often people hear that word ‘trailer’ and their minds follow with ‘trash.’” For too many, the folks who live in rural, economically stagnant areas aren’t worthy of individual consideration.
Conversely, as a rash of mass shootings, most of them at schools, has rocked and roiled the nation, those to whom the 2nd Amendment is a literal security blanket see as much fault in what they view as a nation devoid of spirituality, or as Texas Lt. Governor Dan Patrick said, blaming it on abortion and video games.
Those blinded by the (unrealistic) belief that the government is coming for their guns, see not the broken bodies of innocent students or those caught in the line of fire, but nameless, faceless analogs for a broken culture whose penance is angry white men armed with high-powered rifles.
Last week, news broke that the Immigration and Customs Enforcement service (ICE) is separating undocumented parents from their children. Regardless of how or why they came, these people are human beings. Their provenance should not dictate their degradation.
In a tweet over the weekend, President Donald Trump attempted to blame Democrats for the actions. Except there is no law that calls for this. The parent/child trap is one expressly laid down by the White House, ordered by DHS and carried out by ICE.
What we’ve seen in our discourse and our actions, from Roseanne to college campuses to our southern border represents an ugly turn. It’s not just that Ms. Barr chose to share her sentiments, it’s that she apparently felt so safe in doing so. It’s not that ICE apprehends those crossing illegally, it’s that they take the extreme step of pulling apart moms and kids.
Many of us privileged enough to write, speak and opine about the state of American politics today say things such as, “We’re better than this,” or “We deserve better,” or “This isn’t who we are.”
Are we better? Do we deserve better? Who are we? The answers to these questions need vigorous discussion and debate. We cannot and should not take for granted that the arc of history always bends towards justice. We should not shrink from our beliefs. It is wrong to toss blanket stereotypes at groups with which we’re unfamiliar or about which we are unsure.
We, those who both believe that a better country is necessary and possible, but also see the reality of our current situation, must not sit idly by. All of our voices must come together in a chorus of righteous indignation, moral clarity and civic action.
Do we deserve better? Yes. But only if we do better.
Reed Galen is a veteran of three presidential campaigns and is Chief Strategist of the Serve America Movement. He can be reached at rgalen@joinsam.org
