Video by Greggory Moore
9:56am | It is often the case groups will define themselves primarily by way of exclusion. It’s a “There are two types of people” mentality: Americans and non-Americans, Christians and non-Christians, white and non-white, employed and unemployed.
Such mindsets — ‘binary oppositions,’ they’re sometimes called — are inimical to equity, to inclusiveness, to liberty and justice for all. You’re with us or against us. Keep it in the family. We take care of our own.
Yes, it’s simple pragmatism to be more concerned with those closest to you. But it’s an entirely different and stinkier kettle of fish to have a policy of excluding people from your little club because they don’t look the same or hold a different worldview. While “us and them” thinking can serve as an effective intra-group bonding tool, its effect on the bigger picture tends toward the detrimental.
There are many types of exclusion that aren’t in play here. Aaron Rodgers would be wasting his time to practice with me for the NFL playoffs, and it would be criminal for anyone to put me behind the flight controls of an F-15. The Green Bay Packers and the United States Air Force are obligated to regard me as an outsider within their specific contexts, and to treat me as such for those specific purposes. What we’re talking about is creating unnecessary exclusion zones — physical, philosophical, what you will. My New Year’s Eve reminded me of one of Long Beach’s strong points: open groups. The LBC has its share of hippie-ish folk, and I rang in 2012 at one of this subcommunity’s epicenters: a multi-person, communal house in the Willmore City/Drake Park Historic District that now and again plays host to parties simultaneously happening and peaceful — and open to one and all. It doesn’t really matter whether you’re a hippie, hipster, artist, Gen Xer or Yer, etc.; it doesn’t matter if you’re tight with any of the residents. Your background is pretty much checked at the door. The only thing anyone really cares about is how you disport yourself inside. If you’re respectful of others, come on in and mingle, dance, whatever.
A little over a year ago I was in attendance at another such party, when in walked a half-dozen guys whose deportment suggested they didn’t know anyone who lived there, and whose like attire suggested they may have been gang members. What they saw when they entered the living room was am ad hoc dance floor, with a DJ who had us on the floor but proper. Clearly they were curious about what was happening here — and it whatever it was, that it was worth sticking around to enjoy. As they wound their way through the crowded room, whenever one of them bumped into someone, he would go out of his way to turn around with a smile and say, “Oh, excuse me, man” — his over-politeness a way of making clear they were not there for anything but a good time. No one even blinked at their presence, and before long they were us, feet moving and bodies grooving to the rhythmic waves we were riding. Later in the evening a large, impromptu jam session broke out on the porch (while the dancing continued inside. These are good parties, yo!). After that tapered off and one of the aforementioned guys was leaving, he went out of his way to chat with a few of us lingering on the porch.
“This is a great party, man,” he said. “You know, we don’t mess with nobody. We’re cool with everyone who’s cool with us.”
“Uhhh, sure,” I replied, not having anything in particular to say to this but wanting to respond to someone clearly trying to engage.
“Everyone just wants to have a good time,” he said. “We don’t hassle nobody.” Then he introduced himself1; we shook hands all around. “Hey, you ever have any problems around here, just say you’re a friend of Blaine’s. We don’t stress on nobody. You just say you know Blaine.”
That wouldn’t be true, of course: I don’t know Blaine. Neither do I know the odds of running into any sort of difficulties in Willmore City, nor whether invoking the name of Blaine could prove helpful. But pretty clearly this was a case of a fellow human responding in his way to being on the receiving end of inclusivity. Inclusivity has a way of spreading itself around.
I guess my first column of 2012 is a call to steer clear unnecessary barriers between ourselves and others. As Robert Frost instructs us,2 “Good fences make good neighbors” is a dubious proverb.
The more people who are “us,” the more opportunities we have, from networking to finding dance partners and fellow celebrants. A beautiful aspect of life in Long Beach is the interconnectedness that abounds. It’s one of our strongest suits. I hope the new year sees us furthering this proud civic trait.
Let’s avoid exclusion zones of all sorts. Let’s not define ourselves as “not them.” Let’s keep our hearts and groups open. Who knows where it will lead?
1 Okay, not as “Blaine,” but I like the idea of a potential gang member named “Blaine,” so we’re going with “Blaine.”