Writing Students: My final project example

Why Do I Belong Assignment: Three Pieces in Three Discourses

I. Do I Belong Anymore? or Thoughts on Belonging to a Boys Club: the European White Male

I’ve asked my students to write about belonging, to address the question of why they belong—why they belong anywhere, but perhaps most immediately, why do they belong here, in the university? That seems to me to be a good question since for so long, for much of our history, society said, “You do not belong.” Recently at a panel discussion about being a college student, one of the panel members looked at the students, mostly African-american, Hispanic, Asian, and women, and said, “You know, it is important for you to get here because this place was never built for you. It was built for white men.” That’s me—a member of one of the most privileged groups ever.

White men never have to question belonging—they automatically belong to the exclusive club they created for themselves. I’m even a pure blood, pure German, no other nationalities in my family—though Jewish was in my background until the 17th century when the white boys club put enough pressure on that some relative of mine decided to live rather than die and converted to Christianity. I even live with the blood of the most maniacal of white men’s clubs ever—the Nazi’s, who favored blue eyed blonde men and women as the chosen race, or whatever that is. That’s me—blonde (when I had hair) and blue eyed through and through. For my type, six million Jews had to suffer and die.
I don’t have to apply to belong anywhere. Automatic entrance into American society is granted to the white male. We had it all—land, money, political power, the vote, goofy wigs. It was the great white male race that ran the slavery clubs to basically serve us and make us lots of money. Corporate America got on the move and the white male was at the top, and though people say we are becoming so much more diverse, look around: it’s still the same guys! Well almost—we do have Obama, we have made strides.

The group of people I belong to, the white male, gets all freaked out and breaks out into collective hives whenever anyone suggests proactive measures to make sure that other bloods get into power too. White men love to snarl and cringe at the idea of affirmative action or any such system of hiring and accepting that puts a person of color in front of them. “Reverse discrimination!” they cry. “Discrimination is discrimination! A person should be judged by their character, not by the color of their skin!” See, white males even like to steal the good lines from the minority leaders and claim them as their own. We are so good at stealing.

So now, the question really becomes, why should I belong? I mean really, haven’t we had exclusive rights for just about enough time now? My white male peers might cringe and call me a dirty rotten Benedict Arnold (a white male who got kicked out of his own club) and call me weak and “politically correct.” I’m not politically correct, I’m just saying, hey! Give it up! Let someone else have a chance. Ever hear of retirement? Well, that’s in danger too since the white male club is notoriously so greedy that they know how to bankrupt the country but keep just enough for the super white alpha capitalist males to live comfortably , forever. So, do I belong? I don’t know. I do, I guess, but I think it is time to reapply to someone else’s club—for a change.

II. White man conversation with Native American

Two men sit side by side at a bar drinking grape sodas. One man is a white male. The other is a native American man. He has long hair pulled back into a braid that stretches down his back. The white male wears a baseball cap with a logo of his favorite baseball team, the Toledo Mudhens.
W.M: So how come they used to call you red skins? Your skin does not look red to me.
N.A.: Must have been a sun burnt brave the first white dudes saw. They probably killed him too. I dunno. They just called us red skins. Course you’re not white either you know. You’re more pink.
W.M: Skin color is kind of a stupid thing, don’t you think.
N.A. You mean, the way people always got to identify someone else according to their skin color or their ethnicity?
W.M. Yeah, that.
N.A. So, maybe you’re just not comfortable in your own skin.
W.M. Are you?
N.A.: Oh yeah. I like my skin.
W.M. Well, it is nice skin. I’ll give you that. But still, what’s the big deal. Why can’t people just be people?
N.A. Well, maybe for you, that’s easy to want since you never had to really worry about it. You know, your guys did a pretty good job of making sure there weren’t too many of us Indians around. So, you know, what’s left, we got to be proud of our selves.
W.M. But don’t you think people are just people?
N.A. You white guys are so naïve. You never had to worry too much about it, did you? But me, look, there was a time not long ago I was not welcome in this bar. I didn’t belong. Had to go to the Indian bar and get stupid on grape soda with all the other Indians in the same place. We weren’t good enough get stupid with the rest of the stupid white soda drinkers. That’s stupid. But, you, if you wanted to get stupid, you could do it anywhere because you always belonged. You didn’t have to apply to get in.
W.M. Here’s what I say. Let’s apply to the bartender for another grape soda. It’s on me. You accept my invitation?
N.A.: I never turned down a grape soda in my life. Nothing like a grape soda to bring humanity together.
W.M.: Cheers, my red skinned brother.
N.A.: Cheers, pinky.

III. To what do I belong? I belong to . . .

The Biel and Levi clans
The Hallman clan
My children
My wife
My backyard
My friends
My neighborhood in Milwaukee
Milwaukee
Montana
Wyoming
The Badlands
A community of writers
Germany
Russia
My students
My DNA
Failure
Success
Hope
Sadness
Courage
Happiness
Fear
Determination
History
The belief in being and nada mas
Joy of being
The future
The past
The stars
The moon
The universe
Everything
At least for the time being
Here on earth
For as long as I can make it last
For as long as it can go on
I’ll be a part of it
All of my atomic marrow will some day just filter down into the dust
And I will still be a part of it
Because I belong here
Now
And however long the world decides to keep me.