What is "Community Organizer" in Dog-Whistlese?

Watching "Real Time with Bill Maher" Friday night, I was struck somewhat by the exchange where Rosanne told John Fund that she heard racism in the calling out, at the Republican Convention, of Obama as a Community Organizer. This remark (at the convention) certainly was a popular one, and brought a big laugh when Palin whipped it out. But why did Rosanne see racism in it?

Watching the rerun tonight, I got it.

The spark was Bill's comment to Fund after Fund said (maybe not in so many words) that most Community Organizers were in fact white; Bill's remark was (again, not an exact quote) that not everybody thinks so. And suddenly, I remembered one of the ugliest words I ever heard growing up, and it all made sense, and I was once again ashamed of myself, my kin, and those I grew up around and once called my friends.

OK, thanks for following along so far. Allow me to give you some disturbing and embarrassing background to my point:

When I was growing up, in Oklahoma, in the 1960's, racism was not only accepted, but expected. If you weren't racist, you didn't fit in most places. Those of you over a certain age already know this, of course; to the "youngsters" here, it's probably shocking. I certainly hope so; it is shocking. I am embarrassed to admit, though, I too was racist in speech, and, eventually, in thought. That I was not one in action is really only a lucky accident; had there been an opportunity, I'm pretty sure I would have acted on it (yes, dear friends, race riots on scales small and large occurred in such parts in such days).

If I tell you that I knew I was queer when I was eight years old, I do not expect you to think I mean to excuse my past racism. I certainly was terrified of being outed (I did not come out until the 80's), and thought that going along with the prevailing sentiment would provide some cover (yes, I was outwardly homophobic too). My racism was a moral flaw in myself, no question, no excusing it. I knew it was wrong, and yet I spoke the racist words, and laughed at the racist jokes, and told more than a few myself, and at a certain point, I even believed in it. If I have gained a little moral courage since then to allow me to stand up for what's right, it still doesn't excuse my childhood and my youth.

I'm not telling you this because I'm some sort of masochist, or for Twelve Step reasons, or because I think it makes an interesting story. I'm telling you this because I want to establish that I do understand the mindset of racism. I do remember the old words. I do understand the concept of the dog-whistle, and what certain whistles mean in Ye Olde Racist American English. The Old Southern Racist still lives in my mind. He is hidden, shunned, ignored, feeble, and, I hope, too far gone to ever influence my thought & speech, but to my dismay, he just won't go. I don't think he ever will, until I am dead or lobotomized, and the best I can hope for is to not contaminate any young minds with exposure to such psychic poison.

So: we all know the horrible "N" word, which was used to denigrate blacks. And in the place and time of my youth, its use was universal, and, bless our little rotten hearts, wasn't always consciously intended as an insult (although to be sure, subconsciously we meant it as such). Blacks couldn't help being black (we "reasoned"); they just were. Not that that made them any less repugnant in our sick worldview.

But: White Folk who sympathized with Black Folk, who tried to at least make their world a little easier to bear; who sometimes even socialized with them; who didn't wear their hatred of them on their sleeves; who eventually were the ones who went to Mississippi and Alabama and other places and helped the Blacks organize, registered them to vote, helped them to gain their civil rights (the phrase we used at the time was "stirring up the n*****s", as though they were a nest of insects). The word we used to tag these people? Well, it was the deepest insult we had; worse than "n****r", worse than "c***sucker", worse than "motherf****r". This word meant you were a race traitor. Such a person was more often a target of violence than an actual black person; after all, black people couldn't help being black, but these people represented the absolute repudiation of white superiority; they turned their back on their fellow whites; they were, above all, The Other.

The word spat at such people, (and I am afraid that I am obliged to spell it out, only once though), dear friends, is:

Nigger-Lover

And when I heard Bill Maher tell John Fund that there was a perception that most community organizers weren't white, I thought "but that's not true, I think most people think that they are white, but they probably think the people they actually organize might be black."

...and then, and then and then and then... the ugliest word I can remember from my childhood leapt into my mind... and I was ashamed... and I was shocked... and I thought "holy shit, I don't have as much control over my brain as I thought..." and I was ashamed again.

So, is that the dog-whistle translation of "community organizer" when whistled to a bunch of old white men in a hall? I am afraid that, to a lot of them, it sure is. In fact, is it possible that they won't vote for Obama, not because he's a "n****r", but, far far worse, he's a "n****r-lover?" As are all of his supporters?

I honestly don't think that too many old white folks were actually thinking that word on a conscious level. I don't want to believe it anyway. But under the hood, that's the concept that was touched, that concept that's been the cornerstone of thought in some quarters for hundreds of years, that only in the last quarter-century became taboo to speak openly. That concept, and that word that I hope to God I never utter again in my life.

I don't know for sure. The fact that the word came into my head, after I've spent so many decades trying to repent for how I thought as a child, after believing that my old racism, if not fully extinguished, was at least just fading embers... after moving away from where I was raised when I was 18, specifically because the old racist ideas there were fading away far too slowly for my tastes... after such constant vigilance in my own thoughts, following every racist thought that came up with an analysis of why I thought that way and why it was wrong... after spending my adult life trying to be the man I knew I should be and not the animal I was raised to be....

That goddam word is still in there. Does it still lurk in other minds of a certain age, from a certain subculture? Can the dog whistle still bring it running? Does it call enough people to throw this election to Yosemite Sam and Caribou Barbie? And how do we get these people to vote with their good nature, and not the snarling dogs hiding in the depths of their (our) old, damaged minds?