Dreams from My Father

It’s 3:00am. Barack pours himself a drink, looks around at his apartment—a mess after a party he and his roommate, Hasan, threw—and listens to Billie Holiday. Everyone but Regina enjoyed the party. Regina accused Barack of being self-centered and, in Barack’s understanding, implied that he’s “somehow responsible for the fate of the entire black race.” Barack decides that Regina doesn’t understand his journey to learning not to care. This journey began in high school when he started drinking and using drugs, which helped him forget. Drugs gave him a community and helped him laugh. He decided that while race and money matter, one’s fate comes down mostly to luck—it was bad luck that his friends were arrested, had bad acid trips, or died in car crashes.

Once, Barack tried to explain this to Ann and assured her that he wouldn’t do anything silly. Usually this works, but Ann accused him of being cavalier about his future and of being a loafer. Wanting to assure his mother that she failed to do well by him, he suggested that he might end up like Gramps, who never went to college. Seeing Ann’s reaction, Barack asked if this is her worry—and though she denies it, Barack sees he touched a nerve. Back in the present, Barack realizes that alcohol and drugs can’t distract him from his emptiness. He remembers how successful Ann’s talking-to had been—he graduated and was admitted to Occidental College. Despite these outward signs of success, people like Frank still insisted that Barack had a bad attitude.

Barack remembers his last visit with Frank. Frank told Barack the “real price of admission”: giving up on being Black. Frank insisted that in college, Barack would be trained to believe that America is the land of opportunity for all—but one day, when Barack wants to run things, “they” will remind Barack that he’s just a “well-trained, well-paid nigger.” He warned Barack to keep his eyes open, but that’s hard to do on Occidental’s bright, encouraging campus. And most Black students there don’t seem particularly worried. They all hang out together and though they sometimes grumble about “white folks,” most of the time, they’re worried about classes, sex, and jobs after graduation. Barack realizes that most Black people aren’t interested in revolt. They don’t want to think about race all the time—and being around other Black people is the easiest way to do that.

Barack, however, can’t forget about race. He believes it’s because he feels a bit like an outsider, since he didn’t grow up in Compton. He’s like other Black students from the suburbs, who “refuse[] to be categorized.” Barack mentions Joyce, a “multiracial” classmate who has Italian, African, French, and Native American ancestors but feels as though it’s only Black people who try to make her choose a race. Barack notices that people like Joyce always avoid talking about their Black ancestry. He understands that white culture is the only neutral, objective, nonracial culture, where people can be individuals—and so people of color who experience success as defined by white people try to distance themselves from their non-white ancestors. Then, they get upset for being mistaken for an “ordinary” Black person. Despite his frustrations, Barack feels he’s being too hard on Joyce—and he recognizes himself in her.

To not look like a sellout, Barack befriends the most politically active Black students. They discuss eurocentrism and post-colonialism while blasting music and putting out cigarettes in the hallway carpet—and they’re “alienated,” not careless or indifferent. However, Barack discovers that he still has to work to prove his loyalty to his Black friends. One day, Barack chats with Reggie and Marcus. Marcus is “the most conscious of brothers”—he’s proudly Black and has had “authentic” Black experiences, like being searched by cops for no reason. Tim, another Black classmate who talks like Beaver Cleaver, walks in and asks Barack for his Econ assignment. Later, Barack tells Marcus that Tim should change his name to Tom. Marcus insists that Tim is fine—but Barack should stop judging others and focus on himself.

Barack still burns with shame a year later, even though he knows he was living a lie his first year of college. The one person he didn’t lie to was Regina. Marcus introduced them at a coffee shop one day and enlisted Regina to help him convince Barack to stop reading Heart of Darkness. After Marcus left, Barack explained with embarrassment that he knew the book was racist but it was assigned and, besides, it was teaching him things about white people and how they learn to hate. They discussed Barack’s name and Regina asked if she could call him Barack instead of Barry. They spent the day together talking about her childhood in Chicago, surrounded by family. Barack felt envious of her childhood—but she laughed and admitted that she wished she’d grown up in Hawaii. After this, Barack began to feel himself growing and rediscovering his voice.

During that year, Barack gets involved in campus protests and campaigns against apartheid in South Africa. It starts as a way to prove that he’s radical, but he begins to notice that people listen when he talks. He plans to give a speech at a rally and helps plan a bit of theater—students dressed in paramilitary uniforms will drag him offstage to make a point about apartheid. But as Barack writes his speech, it becomes something more to him. When he begins to speak, it takes a moment to get the audience’s attention—but just as they start to listen, Barack’s friends yank him away. Part of him really wants to keep talking. Marcus and Regina both speak and then Barack decides that they’re all amateurs.

That night, Regina congratulates Barack on his speech, but Barack cuts her off and says he has “no business speaking for Black folks.” He insists his words don’t help; they just make him feel important. Barack also calls Regina naïve for thinking he cares, but Regina insists that Barack, Marcus, and the other guys are all the same—they think everything is about them. Reggie drunkenly wanders in and begins talking about a party they threw at the dorms last year. The Mexican maids began to cry when they saw the mess and Barack laughs at the memory. Shaking, Regina tells Barack that’s not funny and says her grandmother cleaned up after people like him. She leaves.

Barack thinks about what Regina said. He realizes that he’s heard her words—don’t make others clean up after him, don’t pass judgment, don’t make it about him—before. These virtues aren’t the sole property of white people and being rude doesn’t make him Black. Barack realizes he got this way because of fear. Fear is why he pushed Coretta and why he made fun of Tim. He thinks of Regina’s grandmother and realizes that she and women like her want Barack to keep fighting and resisting. He realizes that all the older women in his life—Toot, Regina’s grandmother, Lolo’s mother—all ask the same thing of him. He might be Black, but that’s not the end of his identity. Barack vows to call Regina later.