The avatar on my Twitter account is close-up picture of a soldier's face. He appears to be standing in formation during a memorial service, presumably for a fallen comrade. The close up image is so tight that the frame does not encompass the entire face. His face is stoic, yet two tears stream down his cheek. He is obviously in a state of grief from the horrors of war. The picture was taken from the film The Anderson Platoon, a 1966 documentary film about the Vietnam War.
From my twitter followers, I have received many compliments about this avatar, about how it emotionally moved them, which was my intent. I chose this avatar to pay homage to the sacrifice of our soldiers who are currently deployed to Iraq, Afghanistan, the Persian Gulf, and the Horn of Africa. There is something else about my avatar that I haven’t yet disclosed in this essay: the soldier in the photo is African-American.
The avatar received mixed reactions. While most complimented, a few reacted with scorn. “How dare you misrepresent yourself as a black man?” While I didn’t disclose my race in my profile (I didn’t think it necessary, nor particularly important) I never intentionally misrepresented myself, and always responded to queries about my avatar honestly.
This reaction, interestingly enough, always came from progressives on the left; never from my primary audience who is generally conservative. To my knowledge, none of the people who objected were black.
This brings up a fascinating study of attitudes of race in America. Before I posted this avatar, I posted a different one, the pulitzer prize photo taken by Luis Sinco of Marine Lance Corporal James Miller, taking a smoke break in the midst of a long day fighting in Iraq. This photo won Luis Sinco the Pulitzer Prize.
That the race of the solider in my avatar is different from my own is not really important to me. Should it be? For me, the message of the brotherhood of war is a far deeper message. If I were African-American and I posted as my avatar the white face of Lance Cpl. James Miller, would I receive the same attacks for “misrepresenting”? If not, then have we bestowed upon our African-American citizens a position in our culture of privileged status? If so, then consider how strongly American culture reveres equality: is this the society we really want?
Does a black person possess a higher right than a white person to display whatever photo he wants? Does this attitude unite us or divide us? Isn't this actually a form of psychological apartheid? Think about the implications here. Do we deny white children the the right to choose a black-toned baby doll? Or do we only reserve that right of choice to African-American children?
As someone who has served in the military as both subordinate and supervisor to a mixed ethnic fighting force that looks like America, it is impossible for me to shift my thinking toward this politically correct paradigm. Their perspective is too alien to me. Their racist accusations to me strikes me as absolutely absurd, but nothing surprises me nowadays.
If anything, I believe my avatar transcends race. For me, it is a unifying symbol of Americanism: people of different ethnic backgrounds fighting shoulder to shoulder for the same cause, no matter how misdirected the politicians who sent them there.
I’m concerned by people who are offended by my use of this avatar. The message of my avatar is about unity, not race. Such alarm to me seems divisive.
I dare not think this, but I pray to God they are not trying to elevate the social status of one race above another. Who are these people? And where are they trying to take our country?
I’m not sure I want an answer to that question.
