Am I Next?

When masked men wearing no badges start grabbing people off the streets, it's natural to ask "Am I Next?" Los Angeles artists are responding to ICE raids and an attempted federal militarized occupation with images that project the question on downtown buildings, according to a press release from the California Community Foundation. 

The project, "Am I Next?" will feature images, measuring about 20 by 30 feet, to confront attacks on civil liberties and the undermining of democratic norms that weaken civic life. The portraits feature a cross-section of Angelenos united in protest over recent U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service raids that have swept up hundreds of residents—many with no criminal record—and placed them in detention.

"We ask the question, 'Am I Next?' because when basic rights are taken away, anyone can be taken away, for any reason," said CCF President and Chief Executive Officer Miguel A. Santana. "If anyone's right to speak, protest or create can be stripped, if anyone can be targeted for their race, religion, identity or who they love, we are all in danger. Until justice is restored, no one is safe. Not one of us. Any one of us could be next."

 

This is not the first time Californians have asked a similar question. During a political campaign in 1994 when a Republican governor sought to reduce immigrant rights by initiative, opponents also asked "Who's Next?"

In those days, the majority of Californians went along with a fear-based attack on their neighbors. Today the vast majority of Californians have shown, by passing Prop. 50 by a 25 point margin to stiffen opposition in Congress against the Trump regime, that we understand that immigrants are our neighbors and ourselves.

Believing the hype?

About a week ago, I wrote disparagingly about charisma in politicians. I find myself pondering this quality further.

The dictionary definition of charisma is all about the word's origin in theology. It is not until the fourth listing that the manner in which I commonly think of it comes up: charm, magnetism, presence. A usage I encountered this week catches how I commonly think of the quality: "[Sarah] Palin’s telegenic charisma." Yeah, right. She's a flashy, shallow phony -- exactly what I think of when charisma goes sour.

Two events involving charisma -- not from politics, and neither sour -- grabbed me last weekend. What might be dismissed as "just charisma" can turn out to have more, or additional, meanings.

The first was a visit to the Kehinde Wiley show, an Archeology of Silence, at the De Young Museum in Golden Gate Park (til October 15). It had been much praised and several friends had been blown away by Wiley's giant paintings and intricate bronze cast figures. As the artist intended, the pieces overwhelm the senses through their scale and audacity. But if you get a chance to see them, don't miss the details, such as the small bit of a huge figure that I've posted above. This show is deeper than its immediate grandiosity, its charisma. I suspect this artist's work will be even deeper as he ages.

That same weekend, I watched the Colorado University football team triumph (barely) over Colorado State University. This is a traditional rivalry game in the collapsing Pac12 conference, but in the curious economy of big-time farm-team football on TV, it is not a big deal. Except that this year it was. 

Colorado University hired Deion Sanders, the former NFL star receiver and TV football commentator known to admirers and detractors as "Prime," away from a head coaching job at the HBCU Jackson State. Sanders got rid of most of the poorly performing existing CU team and imported transferring players, including his own talented sons as a receiver and as quarterback. He promised to overturn a pretty dismal past football record and to deliver wins and excitement. This was not just winning football games, but his promise, according to CNN , amounted to "audacious Blackness." Would this work as sport as well as charisma?

I have to say, once the fray supplanted the pregame hype, this was one hell of a football game. It required two overtime periods, but CU came through in the end.

In this contest Deion Sanders, his sons, and his team delivered both charisma and substance.

And I should mention that there was another novel feature to the game. CSU's coach, Jay Norvell, is also Black. How often does it happen that two major football colleges meet who both have Black coaches? 

Sometimes it is worth staying up late to catch West Coast football.