It must be Tuesday, Middlespacers, because I'm answering your questions
Barack Obama went to live with his white grandparents. Ty Hardaway went to live with his black grandmother. Is that significant?
- Whitey
Ty: Good question and an even better observation, Whitey. Shit if we're still not talking about the world famous presidential election of 2008™. Damn if the very world famous president-elect Barack H. Obama didn't fuck everybody's shit up so bad that we've only begun to even understand that he fucked our shit up so bad only to just now start pondering what it means to us personally and globally, historically, and in terms of how the future is forged. We are at very tip-top of that iceberg, yuns.
There are multiple reads to your question, Whitey. One read, which I do not believe is what you're onto or that I like very much, is that Barry went with white grandma and is now kind of a big deal as world's most powerful human-elect. Ty went with black grandma and is a total loser. Like I said, that's one read and I don't like it very much.
Another read is: What are the significant differences in Barry Obama's life and mine given that both young brown boys went on to live with people other than their parents? Does living outside the traditional small-town American schema make a difference in one's life and how are any of those differences moderated by the race of the grandparent the subject is connected with?
Let's start with similarities and differences with the Ty & Barry Fact Cheat Sheet®:
There are more similarities than there are differences, no? Now I haven't read "Dreams of My Father: A story of race and inheritance" (yet) so I cannot speak to motivations, but I think the chief difference is that we wanted to be--were driven to be--very different things in life. Our deliberate legacy mapping took us in different directions. One public. One private.
Obviously a spark had to have been ignited at some point. I think Barry decided on law late in his Oxy tenure and made that happen. Me, I've always been an artist (or what I conceived an artist to be while forever hating the term "artist"). Even in my academic and corporate histories there are some pretty clear evidence of someone goofing on (if not clearly gaming) the insular seriousness and historical purposes of each realm.
We've both strive, Barry and I, to be HNIC [Hawaiian nights in California]. We both run shit. We don't lack for confidence or opinion. We both look good in suits. But I've never really liked the law or lawyers. I don't really enjoy people that much either. Maybe Barry's more of an arts consumer than he is a creator. Dunno.
But, and to your question, Whitey, what does the grandparent's race have to do with anything? We both ended up as proper-talking, high-stepping, university-educated, never-forgetting, under control while controlling systems and paradigms, new gangster New Americans (NGNAs). But Barry just turned that shit up to 11.
Apparently the race of the grandparent(s) has/have very little to do with outcomes because the environment of each household, whether it be the Dunhams or my grandmother, Doris Mae King, was dominated by love. Nurture in black and in white: Supportive. Encouraging. Disciplined. Race not a factor, Whitey. The love of our caregivers allowed up to pursue our dreams. Dreams of our grandparents.
Are we happy, Barry and I? Probably no and never will be. Do we know our assignments? Yep. Do we cover? Indeed.
Nature make us who we are. Nurture makes us who we will be.
Just a guess,
-ty
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