Sotomayor--How Fair Can She Be?

In defending herself for making that statement that “a wise Latino woman” could probably reach a better judicial decision than a white male, Supreme Court Justice nominee Sonia Sotomayer claimed that it was merely a play on words gone awry.
I wonder if a white, Republican candidate could get away with the same claim in front of our present Democratic Senate. “Oh, oops, I was just being witty when I said a “wise white man” could probably come up with a better decision than—a black judge, an oriental judge, an Hispanic judge or a female judge.
It seems to me that I recollect a white official who told a joke about black Americans in what he assumed was the privacy of his government plane wound up resigning. This was back in either the Ford or Nixon administration. I believe he resigned.
Personally I’m not all that offended by Sotomayer’s remark. It reminds me a lot of the female private detective in Baltimore who specialized in locating lost children. When asked why she thought a female could do well in the job, she reponded, “Would you want someone hunting for your child who couldn’t see the mayonnaise jar in the refrigerator?”
(After all, which of us men wouldn’t be stricken blind and immobile if we lacked a wife to find our keys and our glasses? [But, then, I have returned the favor a few times for my wife. She, however, does it more often for me.]
Perhaps Sotomayer was referring to a phenomenon I have noticed many times while substitute teaching in the elementary grades. I ten-year-old boy will stand in front of a closet in utter confusion, unable to locate a thing. Shaking her head, one of the ten-year-old girls will get up, go to the supply closet and put what he needs in his hand.
That has nothing to do, however, with “Latino”. That has to do with ANY female. God has just gifted them with the knowledge of where things are. And since mothers often spend more time sorting out disagreements between siblings than fathers do, possibly this too is a gift that carries over to the judicial bench. Or it’s just evolutionary conditioning.)
I really don’t care what Sotomayer meant by this particular remark. I suspect she might agree with me if I suggested she broaden the statement to include all women. What annoys me is the cloying, choking stranglehold “Political Correctness” seems to have over anything she said, I said or you said.
It may drive us to the point that we dare not make jokes about irritable Blue Jays—because some society or club, somewhere, will have made it their life’s purpose to advance the cause of blue colored birds. They will be offended.
I spent my own boyhood hearing a lot of bad jokes about dumb Hollanders—because Dutch immigrants were not held in high esteem in Grand Rapids in the 1950s. We stood out. We had names that were obviously Dutch to the most uninitiated—and the map of Holland adorns many of our blond haired faces.
I’m still acutely aware when I meet someone whether or not he’s Polish (major competitors to the Dutch in that era. For years I was scared stiff of English Americans (WASPs). But I’ve made friends in both groups since—and eventually it becomes a matter of “sticks and stones”. Most jokes about Hollanders don’t especially bother me anymore.
Let’s get back to Sotomayor and her comment about clever Latino women v less clever white males. (That would be me, wouldn’t it?)
I might fixate briefly on the word “Latino” in her statement—and repeat for her a story I was told years ago when I worked for the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. A young black lawyer, who became a pretty good friend of mine, was nominated for Commissioner. He had worked for the same law firm that fought several civil rights cases and was thought to be just a bit radical.
He was called in for his final interview—with Lyndon Johnson himself. He told me that when he entered the Oval Office, LBJ was rocking in his chair, looking at him. Finally Johnson spoke, “When I was a young Congressman, I had an office on the second floor of a building behind one of the town’s best restaurants.
“They put the garbage out behind that restaurant, right under my office window. In summer time, in Texas heat, it stunk.” He looked harder at my friend. “The little Mexican kids would come and pick through that garbage for something to eat. The owners of the restaurant would sic the dogs on them.
LBJ’s voice rose, “Mr. Jackson, can you be fair to white folk!?
That’s a good question to put to Sonia Sotomayer—someone who remains acutely aware of her Latino heritage in a nation that has not historically been kind to Latin Americans. She freely admits that her background influences her decisions.
So, asking how, to what extent, is a very fair question. Asking about her capacity for fairness is another very good question.
But working her over for a smart-ass statement she made nine years ago, probably isn’t. So let’s stick to asking her what matters.
“Ms Sotomayor, can you be fair to white folk?’