Foto: Rudee Michelle Photography
Pogledi iz Amerike
V Jantarni lastovki začenjamo objavljati kolumne ameriškega avtorja Emmanuela Clacka. Njegovi zapisi odpirajo vprašanje rase – temo, ki v Ameriki ni zgolj politična ali družbena razprava, temveč del zgodovinskega spomina in vsakdanjih izkušenj.
Skozi osebne zgodbe, dogodke iz preteklosti in aktualna vprašanja bo raziskoval zapleteno podobo ameriške družbe ter ponujal pogled na procese in napetosti, ki oblikujejo ameriški prostor.
***
3. oktobra 1995 sem obiskoval šesti razred osnovne šole Noe Middle School v Louisvillu v Kentuckyju.
Če še nikoli nisi bil v Louisvillu, naj ti ga na kratko opišem. To je mesto z bogato tradicijo umetnosti, glasbe in univerzitetnega športa. Najbolj je znano kot dom slovitega Kentucky Derbyja in rojstni kraj morda najbolj slavnega – in hkrati najbolj polarizirajočega – športnika vseh časov: Muhammada Alija.
Muhammad Ali je zaznamoval svet športa in zabave že dolgo pred mojim časom. Če pobrskaš po arhivih, boš našel nešteto posnetkov, na katerih odkrito govori o rasi, veri in politiki. Nikoli se ni izogibal neprijetnim resnicam o položaju temnopoltih Američanov. Bil je neposreden, karizmatičen in nemogoče ga je bilo prezreti.
O tem ni nobenega dvoma.
V Ameriki pa je bila rasa vedno predmet razhajanj in razprav. Razprava, s katero sem se prvič srečal 3. oktobra 1995, je pomembno oblikovala moje razumevanje Amerike, medijev in rasnih vprašanj.
Do zdaj si ta datum verjetno že poguglal ali pa potrpežljivo čakaš, da razložim, zakaj je pomemben.
Razlog je naslednji:
»Mi, porota v zgoraj navedeni zadevi, obtoženega Orenthala Jamesa Simpsona spoznavamo za nedolžnega kaznivega dejanja umora …«
Na vrhuncu svoje kariere profesionalnega igralca ameriškega nogometa in filmskega igralca je O. J. Simpson nekoč znamenito izjavil: »Nisem temnopolt. Jaz sem O. J.«
Po njegovem prepričanju je slava presegla vprašanje rase. Verjel je, da ga ljudje ne obravnavajo drugače zaradi barve njegove kože, temveč zato, ker je O. J. Simpson. V delu temnopolte skupnosti pa so ga pogosto imeli za izdajalca lastne skupnosti. Njegove zveze z belkami so sprožale kritike in neodobravanje.

O. J. Simpson leta 1994. Primer proti nekdanjemu športniku in igralcu je postal eno najbolj spremljanih sojenj v ameriški zgodovini ter sprožil razprave o rasi, medijih in pravosodju.
Foto: Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD) / Wikimedia Commons (Public Domain).
Vse to se je spremenilo v trenutku, ko je Amerika v neposrednem televizijskem prenosu spremljala počasno vožnjo belega Forda Bronca.
Še vedno je bil O. J., vendar je postal temnopolti superzvezdnik, obtožen umora dveh belcev.
Vprašanje njegove krivde ali nedolžnosti je postalo ena najbolj vročih razprav v Ameriki.
Še vedno je bil O. J., vendar je postal temnopolti superzvezdnik, obtožen umora dveh belcev.
Vprašanje njegove krivde ali nedolžnosti je postalo ena najbolj vročih razprav v Ameriki.
Vsak je imel svoje mnenje.
Vsak je izbral svojo stran.
Vsi so prikovani pred televizorje in radijske sprejemnike čakali na razsodbo.
»Ni kriv.«
Ko smo sedeli v učilnicah naše pretežno bele šole, je bilo reakcije nemogoče spregledati.
Mnogi beli učitelji in učenci so bili očitno razočarani.
Veliko temnopoltih učencev in učiteljev pa je slavilo.
Prav v tistem trenutku sem se rase začel zavedati na način, kakršnega prej nisem poznal.
Mediji so me pripravili do spoznanja, da sem bil edini temnopolti učenec v svojem razredu.
Pred tistim dnem tega sploh nisem opazil.
Rasa mi ni pomenila ničesar.
Mediji so me pripravili do spoznanja, da sem bil edini temnopolti učenec v svojem razredu.
Pred tistim dnem tega sploh nisem opazil.
Rasa mi ni pomenila ničesar.
Imel sem bele prijatelje. Hodil sem v šolo v predmestju. Imel pa sem tudi temnopolte prijatelje in živel v pretežno temnopolti soseski.
Nikoli nisem imel občutka, da bi moral izbirati med dvema svetovoma.
Pravzaprav sploh nisem vedel, da obstajata dve strani.
Naša šola je bila akademsko razdeljena na napredne in manj zahtevne oddelke. Večina temnopoltih učencev je obiskovala manj zahtevne oddelke.
Ko je bila razglašena sodba, sem bil vesel – številni moji beli prijatelji pa ne.
Prvič sem spoznal, da lahko ljudje isti dogodek doživljajo popolnoma različno zaradi rase.
Primer je prevladoval v vseh televizijskih poročilih.
Ljudje so o njem govorili vsak dan.
Razkril je očitno razklanost – ne le v družbi, temveč tudi med ljudmi, ki sem jih poznal.
Enajstletniku se je zdelo, da je vsak izbral svojo stran zgolj na podlagi rase.
Pri enajstih letih o O. J. Simpsonu nisem vedel skoraj ničesar.
Nisem vedel ničesar o preiskavah umorov.
Ničesar o kazenskih procesih.
Ničesar o medijih.
In zagotovo ničesar o tem, kako čustveno nabiti lahko postanejo pogovori o rasi.
Ko odraščaš, te učijo o suženjstvu in rasni segregaciji.
Vsak mesec črnske zgodovine (Black History Month) ti pokažejo fotografije temnopoltih Američanov, v katere gasilci usmerjajo vodne topove, nanje ščuvajo policijske pse, jih zasipajo z rasističnimi žaljivkami, linčajo ali terorizirajo z gorečimi križi, postavljenimi pred njihove domove.
Vsak mesec črnske zgodovine (Black History Month) ti pokažejo fotografije temnopoltih Američanov, v katere gasilci usmerjajo vodne topove, nanje ščuvajo policijske pse, jih zasipajo z rasističnimi žaljivkami, linčajo ali terorizirajo z gorečimi križi, postavljenimi pred njihove domove.
Mediji skrbijo, da te podobe nikoli ne izginejo iz ameriškega kolektivnega spomina.
Zakaj?
Novice niso zgrajene na pozitivnih zgodbah.
Zgrajene so na konfliktu.
Umori polnijo naslovnice.
Izredne novice so redko vesele.
Običajno so pretresljive.
Travmatične.
Ustvarjene zato, da pritegnejo pozornost.
Zakaj?
Nekateri pravijo, da zato, ker tragedije privabljajo gledalce.
Drugi menijo, da čustveno nabite zgodbe izzovejo močnejše odzive.
Za številne temnopolte Američane lahko razprave o rasizmu sprožijo tudi zgodovinsko travmo.
Rasizem obuja spomine.
Prikliče suženjstvo, segregacijo, zakone Jima Crowa, linče in stoletja krivic.
Te zgodovinske povezave takoj postanejo del razprave.
Še pomembneje pa je, da je rasa tema, o kateri se je mogoče neskončno prepirati.
Še pomembneje pa je, da je rasa tema, o kateri se je mogoče neskončno prepirati.
Sam rasizem je pogosto obravnavan kot družbeni konstrukt.
Za nekatere nedvomno obstaja.
Za druge ne.
Kako dokažeš, da obstaja?
Kako dokažeš, da ne obstaja?
Dojemanje je posameznikova resničnost.
To, v kar verjame posameznik, še ne pomeni družbenega soglasja.
Ali rasizem danes obstaja v Ameriki?
Morda.
Ali v Ameriki obstajajo rasistični belci?
Nedvomno.
Ali rasizem danes obstaja v Ameriki?
Morda.
Ali v Ameriki obstajajo rasistični belci?
Nedvomno.
Ali je vsak belec rasist?
Ne.
Kako sploh meriš rasizem?
Ga je mogoče izmeriti?
Po katerih merilih nekaj označimo za rasistično?
Nekoga označiti za rasista je ena najmočnejših in najbolj provokativnih obtožb, ki jih je mogoče izreči.
Odvisno od tega, kdo je tarča obtožbe, lahko takšna oznaka povzroči resne družbene in poklicne posledice.
Donalda J. Trumpa, dvakrat izvoljenega predsednika Združenih držav Amerike, že leta označujejo za rasista.
Donalda J. Trumpa, dvakrat izvoljenega predsednika Združenih držav Amerike, že leta označujejo za rasista.
Številni njegovi kritiki trdijo, da imajo številne njegove izjave in dejanja rasistične podtone.
Nešteto člankov in televizijskih oddaj je bilo posvečenih prav tej obtožbi.
Trump sam je to večkrat zanikal.
Kljub temu ga številni mediji še naprej predstavljajo na ta način in veliko Američanov takšno oznako sprejema.
Ali je zaradi tega avtomatično res?
Vrnimo se v devetdeseta leta.
Donald Trump je imel tedaj z mediji povsem drugačen odnos.
Predstavljali so ga kot milijarderja, nepremičninskega magnata, filantropa, uspešnega poslovneža in ikono popularne kulture.
Pojavljal se je v filmih, televizijskih oddajah, pogovornih oddajah, revijah, reklamah in celo v besedilih hiphopovskih skladb.
Dolga leta ni bilo stalne javne razprave, ki bi ga predstavljala kot rasista.
Kdaj se je to spremenilo?
Je rasist?
Morda.
Že sama obtožba ima izjemno moč.
Ko je izrečena, se mora obtoženi skoraj vedno odzvati.
Že sama obtožba ima izjemno moč.
Ko je izrečena, se mora obtoženi skoraj vedno odzvati.
Prvi človek, ki sem ga javno videl soočiti se s takšno obtožbo, je bil detektiv Mark Fuhrman.
Fuhrman je bil detektiv, ki je našel krvavo rokavico.
Prav tisto zloglasno rokavico, zaradi katere je nastal eden najbolj znamenitih stavkov v zgodovini ameriškega sodstva:
»Če se ne prilega, ga morate oprostiti.«
Fuhrman naj bi bil ključna priča tožilstva.
Namesto tega je njegova verodostojnost postala osrednja tema procesa.
Obramba je pokazala, kako močna je lahko oznaka »rasist«.
Johnny Cochran je mojstrsko spremenil pripoved.
Namesto da bi se osredotočil zgolj na fizične dokaze, je celoten primer postavil v okvir rasnih vprašanj.
Fuhrmana je predstavil kot rasističnega policista, odločenega, da bo nedolžnega temnopoltega moškega spravil za zapahe.
Med sojenjem so se pojavili zvočni posnetki, na katerih Fuhrman večkrat uporabi rasistično žaljivko za temnopolte, govori poniževalno o temnopoltih ljudeh in opisuje, kako je kot policist zlorabljal svoj položaj.
Cochran je te posnetke vztrajno postavljal v ospredje.
Njegov argument je postal večji od O. J. Simpsona.
Postal je zgodba o pravosodnem sistemu, ki naj bi bil pripravljen po krivem obsoditi temnopoltega človeka.
Postal je zgodba o pravosodnem sistemu, ki naj bi bil pripravljen po krivem obsoditi temnopoltega človeka.
Ko je Fuhrman končno stopil na prostor za priče, se je zdelo, da je na sojenju on in ne O. J..
Namesto da bi odgovarjal na nadaljnja vprašanja, se je skliceval na svojo ustavno pravico iz petega amandmaja in zavrnil pričanje.
Sojenje O. J. Simpsonu je postalo znano kot »sojenje stoletja«.
Beli detektiv je pričal proti temnopoltemu obtožencu, obtoženemu umora dveh belih žrtev.
Temnopoltega obtoženca je zagovarjal temnopolti odvetnik.
Tožilci so bili belci.
Porota je bila rasno raznolika.
Sodnik je bil azijsko-ameriškega porekla.
Razsodba je bila:
»Ni kriv.«
Izid je razkril ameriško rasno razklanost.
Pokazal pa je še nekaj.
Da rasa pritegne pozornost.
Izid je razkril ameriško rasno razklanost.
Pokazal pa je še nekaj.
Da rasa pritegne pozornost.
Da rasa ustvarja naslovnice.
Da rasa prinaša gledanost.
Temu pravim:
Racetings.
Uporaba rasnih vprašanj v medijih za povečevanje gledanosti.
***
On October 3, 1995, I was a sixth-grade student at Noe Middle School in Louisville, Kentucky.
If you’ve never been to Louisville, let me paint a picture. It’s a city with deep roots in the arts, music, and college sports. It’s best known as the home of the Kentucky Derby and the birthplace of perhaps the most famous—and polarizing—athlete of all time: Muhammad Ali.
Muhammad Ali entered the worlds of sports and entertainment long before my time. Search the archives and you’ll find countless clips of him speaking openly about race, religion, and politics. He never shied away from uncomfortable truths about the condition of Black Americans. He was outspoken, charismatic, and impossible to ignore.
No debate.
In America, however, race has always been the subject of division and debate. The debate I was introduced to on October 3, 1995, helped shape my understanding of America, the media, and race.
By now, you’ve either Googled the date or you’re patiently waiting for me to explain why it matters.
Here’s why:
“We, the jury in the above-entitled action, find the defendant, Orenthal James Simpson, not guilty of the crime of murder…”
“We, the jury in the above-entitled action, find the defendant, Orenthal James Simpson, not guilty of the crime of murder …”
At the height of his career as a professional football player and actor, O.J. Simpson famously said, “I’m not Black. I’m O.J.”
In his mind, fame had transcended race. He believed he wasn’t treated differently because of the color of his skin but because he was O.J. Simpson. Within parts of the Black community, however, he was often viewed as a sellout. His relationships with white women generated criticism and backlash.
That all changed the moment America watched the white Ford Bronco crawl across live television.
He was still O.J., but now he was the Black superstar accused of murdering two white people.
His guilt or innocence became one of the most fiercely debated topics in America.
He was still O.J., but now he was the Black superstar accused of murdering two white people.
His guilt or innocence became one of the most fiercely debated topics in America.
Everyone had an opinion.
Everyone had chosen a side.
Everyone waited, glued to televisions and radios, for the verdict.
“Not guilty.”
As we sat in our classrooms at a predominantly white school, the reactions were impossible to ignore.
Many of the white teachers and students were visibly disappointed.
Many of the Black students and teachers celebrated.
It was in that moment that I became aware of race in a way I never had before.
The media made me realize I was the only Black kid in my classroom.
Before that day, I had never noticed.
The media made me realize I was the only Black kid in my classroom.
Before that day, I had never noticed.
Race had never mattered to me.
I had white friends. I went to school in the suburbs. I also had Black friends and lived in a predominantly Black neighborhood.
I never felt like I had to choose between worlds.
I never even knew there were sides.
Our school was divided academically between advanced and non-advanced classes. Most of the Black students were in the non-advanced classrooms.
When the verdict was announced, I was happy—but many of my white friends weren’t.
For the first time, I realized people could experience the exact same event differently because of race.
The story dominated every news broadcast.
People discussed it every day.
It exposed a visible divide—not only in society but among people I knew.
To an 11-year-old, it felt like everyone had picked a side based solely on race.
At 11 years old, I knew almost nothing about O.J. Simpson.
I knew nothing about murder investigations.
Nothing about criminal trials.
Nothing about the media.
And certainly nothing about how emotionally charged conversations about race could become.
Growing up, you’re taught about slavery and segregation.
Every Black History Month, you’re shown photographs of Black Americans being blasted with fire hoses, attacked by police dogs, screamed at with racial slurs, lynched, or terrorized by burning crosses placed in front of their homes.
Every Black History Month, you’re shown photographs of Black Americans being blasted with fire hoses, attacked by police dogs, screamed at with racial slurs, lynched, or terrorized by burning crosses placed in front of their homes.
The media ensures those images never disappear from America’s memory.
Why?
The news isn’t built around positivity.
It’s built around conflict.
Murders make headlines.
Breaking news is rarely joyful.
It’s usually shocking.
Traumatic.
Designed to command attention.
Why?
Some argue it’s simply because tragedy attracts viewers.
Others believe it’s because emotionally charged stories generate stronger reactions.
For many Black Americans, conversations about racism can also trigger historical trauma.
Racism triggers memories.
It evokes slavery, segregation, Jim Crow, lynchings, and centuries of injustice.
Those associations immediately become part of the conversation.
More importantly, race is endlessly debatable.
More importantly, race is endlessly debatable.
Racism itself is often treated as a social construct.
To some, it unquestionably exists.
To others, it doesn’t.
How do you prove that it does?
How do you prove that it doesn’t?
Perception is personal reality.
What one person believes isn’t automatically consensus.
Does racism exist in America today?
Perhaps.
Are there racist white people in America?
Certainly.
Does racism exist in America today?
Perhaps.
Are there racist white people in America?
Certainly.
Is every white person racist?
No.
How do you quantify racism?
Is it measurable?
What standards determine whether something is racist?
Calling someone racist is one of the most provocative accusations that can be made.
Depending on who’s being accused, that label can become socially and professionally damaging.
Donald J. Trump, the twice-elected President of the United States, has been called racist for years.
Donald J. Trump, the twice-elected President of the United States, has been called racist for years.
Many critics argue that much of what he says or does carries racial undertones.
Countless articles and television segments have focused on that accusation.
Trump himself has repeatedly denied being racist.
Yet many media outlets continue to frame him that way, and many Americans accept that characterization.
Does that automatically make it true?
Rewind to the 1990s.
Donald Trump had a very different relationship with the media.
He was portrayed as a billionaire real estate developer, philanthropist, businessman, and pop culture icon.
He appeared in movies, television shows, talk shows, magazines, commercials, and hip-hop lyrics.
For years, there wasn’t a constant public conversation portraying him as racist.
So when did that change?
Is he racist?
Perhaps.
The accusation itself carries enormous power.
Once it’s made, the accused is almost always expected to respond.
The accusation itself carries enormous power.
Once it’s made, the accused is almost always expected to respond.
The first person I watched publicly confront that accusation was Detective Mark Fuhrman.
Fuhrman was the detective who discovered the bloody glove.
The infamous glove that inspired one of the most memorable lines in American legal history:
“If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit.”
Fuhrman was expected to be the prosecution’s star witness.
Instead, his credibility became the focus of the trial.
The defense demonstrated how powerful the label “racist” could become.
Johnny Cochran brilliantly shifted the narrative.
Rather than focusing solely on physical evidence, he framed the case around race.
He portrayed Fuhrman as a racist police officer determined to frame a Black man.
During the trial, audio recordings surfaced in which Fuhrman repeatedly used the N-word, made derogatory comments about Black people, and described abusing his authority as a police officer.
Cochran relentlessly emphasized those recordings.
His argument became larger than O.J. Simpson.
It became a story about a justice system allegedly willing to railroad a Black man.
It became a story about a justice system allegedly willing to railroad a Black man.
When Fuhrman finally testified, he found himself on trial instead of O.J.
Rather than answer further questions, he invoked his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination.
The O.J. Simpson trial became known as “The Trial of the Century.”
A white detective testified against a Black defendant accused of killing two white victims.
A Black defendant was defended by a Black attorney.
The prosecutors were white.
The jury was racially diverse.
The judge was Asian American.
The verdict was:
“Not guilty.”
The outcome exposed America’s racial divide.
And it demonstrated something else.
That race could drive attention.
The outcome exposed America’s racial divide.
And it demonstrated something else.
That race could drive attention.
That race could dominate headlines.
That race could become ratings.
What I call:
Racetings.
The media’s use of race to drive ratings.
Uredniška opomba:
Povzetek temelji na avtorjevem osebnem spominu in interpretaciji primera O. J. Simpson. Besedilo izraža avtorjev pogled na vlogo rase, medijev in javnega diskurza v tem procesu ter ne predstavlja celovite zgodovinske ali pravne analize primera.
Prevod kolumne je bil pripravljen s pomočjo umetne inteligence ter dodatno uredniško pregledan in prilagojen za objavo.

