"Punch Him in the Mouth"

"If I saw him standing beside George W. Bush, I'm not sure which one I'd smack first ... I could just punch him in the mouth." The "him" is Rev. Jeremiah Wright. The person who called me to say that was my father.

Theresa Caldwell is Deputy Communications Director for Congressman Jesse Jackson, Jr.

"If I saw him standing beside George W. Bush, I'm not sure which one I'd smack first ... I could just punch him in the mouth."

The "him" is Rev. Jeremiah Wright. The person who called me to say that was my father. He is also about that age when Chris Rock said all Black men are angry. If you'd heard half of what my father said about George W. Bush, you'd know that Jeremiah Wright's in deep dog mess. And not just with my dad. "Angry" only comes close to describing it. Having the Black pastor of the first Black man to get within shouting distance of the White House speak out in a way that hurts the candidate's chances is mind-blowing.

My dad isn't the only one I've heard struggling not to launch into a string of cuss words (not curse, cuss) since Wright's return to the center of attention. Yes, people have said they are angry, but I've also heard "devastated," "hurt," "crabs in a barrel" and "Black folks are a cursed people." I talked to a brother in his early twenties, just launching his career. He shook his head and said, "It's hard for Black folks to have to go against their pastor."

The only thing I saw in its entirety was Wright's appearance at the National Press Club. I clapped when he was the more thoughtful man of God who has inspired me with his teaching several times in the past. But by the time he was answering questions, I knew someone in Sen. Barack Obama's camp was saying their version of " Houston , we have a problem." I couldn't help but feel that the "transcending race" mentality of the campaign had reached a mountain that was, in fact, high enough: Mount Wright.

I admit that I have mixed feelings. My Blackness laughs at the nation's being forced to admit that its painful race history is not history, that The Black Church is still a bit of a mystery and that whites can't seem to see that we have more in common now than ever. My American-ness cries because I've heard many media people say "mainstream America" as code for "white America," because Democrats' calls for real political change are not real and our fear of an honest exploration of our race problem keeps us from working together on our political, economic and environmental problems.

One of my father's ancestors was a slave named Emily. There's a picture of her in my parents' house. I see her now as I recall my father's anger, and how it cooled enough to remind me not to assume that the Wright controversy will kill Obama's White House bid.  If Emily could survive slavery and those early years of freedom, surely I can remain hopeful during this presidential campaign. It's tough, but the look on her face says that if I can't she'll come back to punch me in the mouth.