White Man's World

Listen while you read:  Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit

I'm a white man living in a white man's world
Under our roof is a baby girl
I thought this world could be hers one day
But her momma knew better

I'm a white man living in a white man's town
Want to take a shot of cocaine and burn it down
Momma wants to change that Nashville sound
But they're never gonna let her

There's no such thing as someone else's war
Your creature comforts aren't the only things worth fighting for
If you're still breathing, it's not too late
We're all carrying one big burden, sharing one fate

I'm a white man living on a white man's street
I've got the bones of the red man under my feet
The highway runs through their burial grounds
Past the oceans of cotton

I'm a white man looking in a black man's eyes
Wishing I'd never been one of the guys
Who pretended not to hear another white man's joke
Oh, the times ain't forgotten

I'm a white man living in a white man's nation
I think the man upstairs musta took a vacation
I still have faith, but I don't know why
Maybe it's the fire in my little girl's eyes
Maybe it's the fire in my little girl's eyes

~  Jason Isbell

"Every. Damn. Day. He manages to sink lower and lower, becoming more and more vile and repugnant. He is truly poisoning our country. Every. Damn. Day." My friend Mary Ann posted that on social media yesterday, after news of the latest assault on our freedoms came from the sick man in the White House. Whether this is a distraction from the Russia investigation or a nod to his conservative right base or a Hitleresque move to wipe out "the undesirables" (or all three), his "ban" on transgendered people serving in our military is beyond repugnant. I am sickened.

Jason Isbell has been a vocal critic of this administration since Day One. He wrote "White Man's World" the day after the 2016 election while taking care of his little daughter, grateful that she was too young for him to have to explain to her what had just happened. "The song discusses my perspective on race and gender. I think its inspiration should be pretty obvious these days. I think my job is to constantly evaluate my role in the human struggle for equality without feeling guilt or shame for things I can't control," Isbell said in an interview with Consequence of Sound. The song appears on The Nashville Sound, released last month.

There is no war on white men. And Isbell makes it clear that he feels no shame for having been born white and male. What he is proposing is that there is a responsibility to use one's position of privilege to speak out about injustice. There's no such thing as someone else's war. We are all in this together, and those of us who have little or nothing to lose must support those who do. Rolling Stone refers to the song as one about "the insular comforts of a more privileged existence surrounded by so much suffering." So much suffering, as this administration targets blacks, Hispanics, Muslims, women, pot-smokers, gays, immigrants, the poor, the elderly, the environment, education, healthcare, and the list goes on and on and on. Every. Damn. Day.

At the end of the song, Isbell questions his faith. And then he answers with the best (and possibly the only) answer: Maybe it's the fire in my little girl's eyes. Amanda Shires, Isbell's wife, joins him on that line. What kind of world are we leaving to the next generation? How long will it take to undo all the harm this administration is doing to our country? Or will the world end before there's a chance to do anything at all?

If you're still breathing, it's not too late.