Book Review: Don't be a 'Stranger'

Deborah Mathis is a syndicated columnist and a familiar face on television commentary shows. She has an appealing wit and comfortable speaking style. She is quick to count her blessings and thank her God, "... who has been ridiculously good to me all of my days." She is blessed with the talent to write. "Yet a Stranger" is an articulate and provocative book on a tricky subject -- racism.

Mathis recounts a litany of shameful grievances against blacks in America -- the slights and indignities, the "Look" of disdain and distrust, the inequities and atrocities visited upon people of color. She reminds us of painful headlines of senseless deaths on the New Jersey Turnpike, the killing of Amadou Diallo, wrongful accusations by Charles Stuart and Susan Smith of being attacked by "a black person." These examples are cringing to recall, but they read here as mildly repetitive. When Mathis adds her personal stories of suffering from prejudice, she somehow sounds more original and interesting.

One original idea is using the notion of "home" to shape and drive her narrative. Home is both a concept and a reality, and each one we build for ourselves. "I believe I speak for the masses," she writes, "when I say that black Americans are ready to relax and be at home in America. And to ask, when will America welcome us?"

In this statement lies the conundrum of her book. There is no doubt that racism exists. Mathis could cut her examples in half and still have ample condemning evidence. But does she speak "for the masses" when she declares the problems existing today are all because whites are inhospitable to blacks? For that is her message, repeated in every chapter. "We" are a maligned yet wonderful deserving people and "you" are the cause of all our societal problems.

By assuming the editorial "we," as she does throughout, Mathis has loaded a lot onto her plate. She denies the validity of black voices that disagree with hers -- such as Ward Connerly, who fervently opposed affirmative action in California, labeling him "... a black man, at least in appearance." She writes in sweeping generalities, extolling the old days of "... black community, when we belonged to one another ..." when blacks felt "at ease ... thanks to the industry and will of black entrepreneurs and good neighbors." Children were happy and protected in that community. She relates a history of desegregation breaking up this loving community and setting people adrift. This all rings true but it is a sore point with not just black people. Daniel Moynihan studied and wrote vigorously about the loss of those communities.

It is undeniable that Americans have struggled with race issues since pre-Colonial times. Progress is slow and Mathis, correctly, is impatient for results. Yet she refuses to count results when they do appear. Rather, she sets up an unhelpful "we" vs. "them" slugfest. Blacks who have achieved great success and stature -- Tiger Woods, for example -- do not receive her approbation. If he were not so pleasing to whites, she asserts, he would not be the "darling of the sports world."

In her opinion, white attitude represses blacks, keeps them from achieving and from enjoying the full fruits and benefits of what life in America has to offer.

As a white person, I frequently found myself cheering the strong confident voice of Mathis. She speaks proudly of her color, her heritage and, frankly, her good mind. I know she is right.

Mathis looks solidly at that past, more skeptically at the present. Even though I applaud her, at the same time I resent that she gives no credit to whites who have climbed that learning curve of injustice. I cannot change the color of my skin any more than she can, but as a member of an ethnically and racially mixed extended family I know how I feel and think about these issues. It definitely is not "us" vs. "them." How can one think blacks are terrorized only by whites when we have recently experienced the Washington-area sniper attacks? Lines constantly blur and change occurs as fast as cloud shadows race across the prairie.

If Mathis still does not feel "at home" in America, I wonder where her spirit is residing. She ends her book with suggestions for improving the lot of blacks, including guarding the children, creating networks to pool resources, connecting with God and civic and political activism. These are excellent ideas, but they are excellent for all citizens, regardless of color.

Mathis has taken on a huge and complex subject. She obviously has many complaints about the country we live in. I ultimately came to believe she needed to get this out of her system and can now write a better book, one that sounds less scolding in tone and combative with whites. I would love to read something by her that is more about her particular and "ridiculously" good experiences.

"Yet a Stranger" activated many thoughts and memories in me. As I read, I took scads of notes, reacting verbally and viscerally, at times churning emotionally. I thought of my cousin Judy, a fabulous individual who is an artist and also black. She has endured many affronts while making unforgettable contributions to young people and the world. Judy once told me she just brushed off these snubs like so many cockroaches -- and then she proceeded to make elegant flicking motions, like the poised and graceful dancer she is.

It is my impression that Deborah Mathis has chosen to carry around a lot of cockroaches. I wish we could sit and talk, perhaps argue back and forth and have a few laughs. I would like to think she would feel welcome in my home.

("Yet a Stranger: Why Black Americans Still Don't Feel at Home" by Deborah Mathis, Warner Books, 258 pages, $23.95)