“Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there
yet?” It is the refrain of children restlessly sitting in the
cramped backseats of station wagons during family trips. Time
lapses, yet progress toward the destination remains uncertain. Only
through inquiry can one understand how far one has come ““ and
the distance still to travel. While the comparison between antsy
9-year-olds and a Yale law professor might seem a stretch, it is
the very same question that concerns Kenji Yoshino in his new book.
His destination cannot be reached by the family Volvo; it is not a
geographic location at all. Rather, Yoshino seeks to arrive at a
society where liberty reigns supreme and the Civil Rights Movement
has finally triumphed. But wait. Hasn’t the struggle for
civil rights transitioned from newspaper headlines to history
textbooks? Wasn’t it the movement of an earlier generation
““ of men like Martin Luther King Jr., of slogans like
“We shall overcome,” of legislation like the Civil
Rights Act of 1964? Didn’t it succeed long ago? Not so fast,
writes Yoshino. With his new book “Covering: The Hidden
Assault on Our Civil Rights,” the legal scholar illustrates
how society continues to subtly oppress many of its members,
decades after the Civil Rights Movement supposedly secured
“liberty and justice for all.” This oppression
manifests itself in what Yoshino terms “covering”:
pressure, whether internal or external, to blend into the
mainstream by downplaying disfavored traits. It is not a rare
phenomenon. From company dress codes that prohibit traditional
African American hairstyles, to the hostile glares ““ or worse
““ that often greet homosexual couples engaging in public
displays of affection, the contemporary U.S. remains littered with
forces compelling individuals to compromise their authentic selves.
And, as “Covering” shows, the consequences of this
forced conformity can be disastrous. Yoshino combines historical
accounts, legal analysis and personal memoir to analyze the power
and perniciousness of covering. This unique fusion of genres
provides the reader with a variety of perspectives on the topic.
None matches the power of the author’s own story. With
admirable candor, Yoshino describes his struggle as a closeted
homosexual. Through his high school years, his undergraduate
experience at Harvard and his Rhodes Scholarship across the pond,
he succeeded in myriad ways, yet all these achievements were marred
by Yoshino’s failure to be honest with himself. Reading this
account, one cannot help but pity the poor soul who believes
acceptance ““ and happiness ““ can only come with the
suppression of his or her true nature. Yoshino’s description
of the countless hours spent in the Oxford Chapel praying “to
gods (he) did not believe in for transformation,” illuminates
the severity of covering’s effect ““ even one’s
spiritual integrity is squandered. Yet Yoshino believes improvement
is possible and our society can finally triumph over the sentiments
that fuel covering. Interestingly, the law professor asserts that
legislation will only play a minor role in this civil rights
frontier. A comprehensive solution must reach far deeper into
cultural mores to enact meaningful, lasting change. For Yoshino,
the answer lies in a renewed appreciation for authenticity as the
basis for all human flourishing. Yoshino reminds us that the Civil
Rights Movement is not merely about rectifying wrongs, but also
enabling humanity to reach new heights of excellence. This idea
places Yoshino among the long line of thinkers who have celebrated
the beauty and importance of authenticity. From the Shakespearean
aspiration “To thine own self be true,” to the cliched
hip-hop directive “Keep it real,” man has long
recognized sincerity’s power. “Covering” calls
for each of us to act on this belief. Only then will we arrive at
the end of our civil rights journey.
“”mdash; Brendan Kearns