May 11, 2007

New books delve into race issues, public reaction

By Terri Schlichenmeyer / Book Reviewer

"Silent Gesture: The Autobiography of Tommie Smith" by Tommie Smith with David Steele
Temple University Press
$27.50, 268 pages

Night after night, even non-sports fans often find themselves riveted to the TV set as the Olympic Games unfold.

The Olympics, like any sporting event, are filled with surprises - not just from the competitions, but from behind-the-scenes happenings, rivalries and Olympic politics, too.

In Mexico City in 1968, athlete-turned-author Tommie Smith surprised many when he raised his fist over his head in protest. In the new book "Silent Gesture" (with David Steele), Smith tells about the statement he made and how it changed his life.

Nearly forty years ago, sprinter Tommie Smith and San Jose State College teammate John Carlos stepped on the winner's podium at the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City and raised black-gloved fists in the air as the national anthem played. Many Americans were shocked, angered and outraged. While it was assumed that the gesture indicated affiliation with the Black Panther party, Smith insists that he was not a member of that group. Instead, he says that he and Carlos raised their fists on behalf of the Olympic Project for Human Rights.

That trip to the Olympics started in Texas in 1944 when Smith was born. Although he grew up poor, Smith says his parents instilled a strong work ethic in him and their 11 other children. As a child, Smith says he observed racism and a lack of equality for blacks, and what he saw he remembered for the rest of his life.

By the time Smith was old enough to choose a high school, he had built a reputation as a sprinter. Later, his athleticism earned him a scholarship to college, where he learned the science of running from a mentoring coach. Early in his college career, Smith realized a truth: he was the fastest man alive, a world-class athlete.

On October 16, 1968, he proved it to the world. Then he made a "silent gesture" that affected the rest of his life.

Today, Tommie Smith is admittedly very bitter. He's open about his disagreements with John Carlos. He complains that he didn't get the endorsements or money that today's athletes receive. He is less than complimentary about almost everyone he knew in his early adult years, including nearly every white person with whom he came into contact. "Silent Gesture" is told in a haphazard way and, annoyingly, Smith often refers to himself in the third person.

On the other hand, I loved Smith's recollections of his Texas childhood. I could almost touch the rough-hewn schoolroom floor and the dust from the fields in which his family worked. In his childhood memoirs, Smith shines.

If you can set aside Smith's anger and braggadocio, read "Silent Gesture" for the story of an athlete who grabbed a chance to make a difference. If you're looking for a biography filled with wonderful, happy memories, though, putting this book back on the shelf is the only gesture to employ.

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"The N Word" by Jabari Asim
Houghton Mifflin
$26, 288 pages

Words and names are loud, even when they are whispered, and sometimes they are sharper than a knife.

How do you feel about what some say is the most inflammatory word in America? In the new book "The N Word: Who Can Say It, Who Shouldn't, and Why" by Jabari Asim, those six strung-together letters have a very long history, and how you feel about it depends on who you are.

Lexicographers, says Asim, claim that the "N" word comes from the Latin word "niger," which means "black." In this country, a derivation of the word showed up as an insult long before the Declaration of Independence was written. The Declaration's list of inalienable rights, incidentally, didn't at that time apply to black people.

In the early- to mid-1800s, black writers Samuel Cornish and John Russwurm said that it was "evil" for blacks to adopt for themselves the racially charged words that were used against them by white slave owners. Others reported that former slaves used the "N" word against one another, although historians claim that slaves' use of the word often had several different meanings.

Asim says he's not entirely convinced of that, but he indicates later in this book that the word has definitely morphed.

Abraham Lincoln forbade the enlistment of black soldiers at the start of the Civil War, but that didn't stop his officers. Asim says that up to 4,000 black men were armed before Lincoln decided to allow black participation. Reaction, Asim says, was expressed in both North and South with use of the "N" word.

By the mid-1950s, the "N" word had become not only hateful but violent as well. It was spat at victims of lynchings and hurled at black children during school desegregation. Asim says that politicians who were important to the civil rights movement used the word with impunity.

So today, who can say it? Asim cites Richard Pryor's usage as "brilliant." He quotes writer Paul Mooney who, explaining his own utterances, said, "The word is going nowhere, it's not leaving this planet." Still, even though you'll hear it in pop-culture venues, rap songs and cable-TV shows, Asim says the word hasn't lost its sting.

Widespread coverage of Don Imus' recent comment proves one thing: a sprinkling of racially charged words can cause a torrent of pain and anger. Because of this, "The N Word" is one of the timeliest books I've read in a long time. Asim uses history, literature and pop culture to examine the volatility, usage and marginally acceptable appearance of the word that now makes most Americans squirm.