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"A 12 Step Program for Recovering White Caucasians"

Last Performed 3/23/06

Guadalupe, AZ

INTRO

Hello

My Name is

Brandon Chase Goldsmith

And I’m a white Caucasian

I mean I look like one

At least I grew up like one

I was your average saltine cracker

I was

Whiteee

But that all changed

in the spring of 2004

Well not my skin color

or my heritage for that matter

although that would be strange

But it all changed

at least in the eyes of our government

It all changed

What changed?

My bubble changed

You know that bubble-

the bubble on all those forms-

the bubble you fill in-

the bubble you check-

the bubble that says who you are-

the bubble that allows the government

to classify you

label you

focus group you

Those bubbles that claim

That there are only eight

Types of people in the world

You have the hyphenated Americans

Mexican-American

Asian-American

Latin-American

African-American

Then there are

The American Indians

That oops factor

Oops we didn’t kill ‘em all

So I guess we have to count ‘em

Yah I said it

But here’s what’s interesting

In all these groups

There’s only one

That isn’t American

White

Caucasians

So here I am this little

Or not so little White Caucasian

That decided he wanted to become

An American

I decided I wanted to change

My Bubble

I, me, myself decided to do this

I mean it’s my bubble, right?

But they

The big they didn’t want me too

So I came up with a solution

I came up with a plan

I came up with a 12 step program

For recovering White Caucasians

Yes a 12 step program

For all you white Caucasians out there

Who want to become Americans

You too can learn

To claim your heritage

Without ridicule

Without fear

And best of all

Without guilt

You know what I’m talking about

That white guilt

I mean we all have it

Okay apart from

neo-Nazis

White supremacists

And Conservative Republicans

We all have it

But I can help you deal with it

Be comfortable with it

And it costs less

Than six weeks with Jesus

Only 3 monthly installments

Of $19.99

That’s equal to $5 a week

In tithing or offerings

And without the pressures

Of that plate coming down your isle

And everyone watching

Making sure you’re putting money in

And not taking it out

So buy now

And you too can absolve yourself

For only 3 monthly payments

Of $19.99

Shipping included

A 12 step program

For recovering white Caucasians

Buy it now

Announcer

Tonight I’ll be introducing you to

The first 3 of the 12 steps

How many white Caucasians

Do I have out there tonight?

Raise your hands

Don’t be shy

Now could you all stand up?

Thanks.

Repeat after me

Step 1

We are powerless

Over the color of our skin

And relaying on it

Has made our lives unmanageable

Thank you

Have a seat

Buy the program today

And I’ll teach you

How to make these steps

Part of your everyday life

This package also includes

The Hot new

How to Video Series

“Claiming your Heritage.”

Live in front of Video Camera played on to a TV.

Euro-American

Hello

My name is Brandon

And I am a Euro-American

See on my dad’s

My father’s side

We’re all white meat

Imported white meat

We’re cream without the coffee

Porcelain dolls all of us

And on top of that

My dad

My father

Is a Mormon

I know

I said the “M” word

However

I found out they are useful

Yes useful

What they have is this thing called

Baptisms for the dead

It’s a whole

If we can’t get you now

We’ll get you later policy

I know it’s a bit creepy

But talk about commitment to a cause

Now this Mormon obsession with the dead

Has spurred forth yet another obsession

Genealogy

So my dad

My father

Has our family traced all the way back

To Jesus or something like that

It tracks our genealogy

All the way back to France

Now I’m fine with that

A free place to stay in France

Hell yah

I’m buying my tickets tomorrow

But my dad

My father

As a Conservative Republican

He’s Currently required to hate himself

To boycott himself

I feel for him

I do

But my problem as a Euro-American

Is that there isn’t

A bubble for that

There’s no bubble

For Euro-American

There’s not

Every other immigrant gets that fancy

Hyphenated American label

Those something-Americans

So I ask you

What’s the difference?

Announcer

If you order

Within the next 15 minutes

I’ll throw in the award winning

Caucasian Confessions

For free

That’s right free

On CD or cassette

Call now

Live on Microphone

Caucasian Confessions

Caucasian Confession #1989

Forgive me Minorities for I have sinned

I grew up

In the town of San Antonio, TX

A town where whites are the minority

On the northeast side of town

Where you would never know that fact

I went to

One of the whitest schools in town

Winston Churchill High School

A school

That played England’s National Anthem

As the basis for our school song

A school

With a parking lot

That could have been mistaken for

A Mercedes

BMW

Or Ferrari dealership

A school

Where our first football game

Of each season

Was called

The Gucci Bowl

A long time rival between us

And Clark High School

A game

That in my first year

My freshman year we lost

We lost for the first time

In like ten years

So they

The big they

Put up on the school sign

The sign

That is reserved for

Holiday reminders and congratulations

To the various clubs and organizations

They put up on our school sign

“We may have lost.

But we’re still richer than you.”

And it stayed there

It stayed there

For over a month

It was a source of pride

A reestablishment of status

The sign

Could have just as easily read

“We may have lost.

But we’re still whiter than you.”

Not that there weren’t

Non-whites at our school

We had non-whites

Of the white friendly variety

Sons and daughter

Of state representatives

Of city council members

Or other non-threatening occupations

How I wound up in that school

I’ll never know

I mean I know

It was one of the best educations

You could get in town

Provided you could afford

To live on that side of town

And we had just moved

We had just moved

Into Hollywood Park

We moved

Into Hollywood Park

And for one year

My Grandmother lived with us

Grandma Suzy

Suelema Rodela Williams

God rest her soul

Her father born in Chihuahua Mexico

And for all intents and purposes

An illegal alien

A wetback

A spic

The only visual proof

That I was

A second generation Mexican-American

A living link to who I really was

Then one day

The inevitable happened

I invited friends over

Friends

People you knew me as

Brandon Chase Goldsmith

White bread without the crust

Little did they know

I was stale wheat bread

And a full loaf of it at that

I had been to their houses

If you want to call them houses

Estates would be more like it

And that day

For some reason

They felt generous enough

To swing by my humble abode

If only for a few minutes

A quick stop and go

And yes they came inside

And yes they saw my Grandmother

And yes I referred to her as

Our maid

I denied my own blood

My own heritage

I couldn’t pull off my white mask

I was white

I was

Wasn’t I?

A false purity I wasn’t ready to taint

Whiteness had contaminated my soul

And yes

Yes

She heard

“We may have lost

But we’re still richer than you.”

I lost my grandmother that day

I had lived up to her prediction

From my wild youth

I had become the Anti-Christ

I used to believe

She was only joking

I wish

I had only been joking

Our maid

This is my Grandma Suzy

I’d like you to meet her

She’s very special to me

You see

I never got to apologize

Before she pasted on

Perhaps I didn’t deserve that privilege

Grandma

If you can hear me now

I’m sorry

I am

You will always be

My guardian Angel

Student Services 101

So I’m on my way to student services

ASU’s S.S.

Where they keep all your files

Your records

Where any work studies student

Is 2 key strokes away

From knowing more

About your college career

Than your dad’s accountant

After tax day

I was on my way

I had taken that mental 1^st step

Towards changing my bubble

More like

Baby steps down the stairs

Of indecision

I was stuck in some sort of

Heritage purgatory

A social utopia

Where I was undefined

Undefined by default

As each branch of my family tree

Tugged at my roots

Mexican

Tiqua Indian

White European

Cherokee Indian

Maybe all I am

Is some white Caucasian mutt

That stereotypical white dude

Hey, babe what’s your bubble

That’s such a cop out

Or as my friend Jeffery says

“That’s so beige”

Hell I was beige

I received none of the benefits

Of my heritage

Well I have plenty of hair

And I burn easily

I’m the lone white bean pole

Surrounded by a sea of brown heads

On my mom’s sided

We call that a family reunion

They call me Weto

And I call Pizza Hut

Because there is no way in hell

I’m touching that menudo

What a waste of good big corn

So I’m on my way to see the S.S.

What was I going to claim?

I mean

I mean that’s fucked up

It’s like choosing

Which side of the baby

I wanted to keep

I was tired of flipping the coin

On this test

Where was (E) all of the above?

I couldn’t keep this

White Caucasian title

That was slapped against my forehead

I had to break the code

I had to solve this rubics cube

Suddenly it became a game

A puzzle

As I broke down my blood

Drop by drop

Let the games begin

Round 1:

My great-grandfather

On my mom’s side

Full blooded Tiqua

My grandma 1/2

My mom 1/4

Me 1/8

After the first half

Mexican-Americans – 0

American Indians – 1/8

Round 2:

My grandma

Full blooded Mexican

My mom 1/2

Me 1/4

The Mexican-Americans grab the lead

1/4 to 1/8

My mom’s

Dad’s mom

Full blooded Cherokee

The American Indians squeezed by

Receiving another 1/8

And tying up the game

1/4 to 1/4

Then the clincher

Traced halfway back to Jesus

On my dad’s sided

My dad’s

mom’s

mom

Cherokee Indian

The American-Indians did it

They beat the Mexican-Americans

We had a winner

By a blood calculation

Of one thirty second

The American Indians had won

Finally I had my new title

Announcer

How many non-white Caucasians

Do I have other here

Raise your hands

Everyone else look at them

Keep your hands raised

Step 2

Come to believe

That an understanding of the minority

Can restore your life to sanity

Thank you

You can put them down

The lines are still open

Order your 12 step program

For recovering white Caucasians

Today

Live in front of a Video Camera playing on a TV.

Mexican-American

Hello

My name is Brandon

And I am a Mexican-American

I’m not really sure

Which label to adopt for this one

It’s a room with many doors

Hispanic

Chicano

Latino

I’m not sure

I guess the best explanation came from

My Uncle Steve

Steve

Boy

You ain’t got it figured out yet?

It’s-simple

Your great granddad

Is an Indian

One of them Tiquas

And he knocked up a Spaniard

A Basque

Whatever

Don’t make no difference

All the same

A Spanish and A Indian having sex

Bam!

Your grandma Suelema

A Mexican

That makes you a Nuevo Mexican

I suppose I could call myself

A Nuevo Mexican

I mean I am

A 2^nd generation Mexican-American

It has a nice hyphenated American feel to it

It’s the meeting of Mexico and America

It’s like have a Hispanic last name

Brandon Chase Mexican-American

Very posh

Mmm

Yah

Kind of a Marriage

America do you take Mexico

To be you’re lawfully wedded country

I do

Oh yah

But how can you compare a Marriage

To a rape?

Announcer

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Live on a microphone.

Caucasian Confessions

Caucasian Confession #20-02

Bueno

Hola

Cuanto Cuesta Cerveza?

Donde esta el baño?

That is about the extent

Of my knowledge of the Spanish language

Sure I know a few other

Choice words and phrases

But for all intents and purposes

I am illiterate

Start talking Spanish at me

And I’ll just stare at you

I might do the whole nod thing

Go yah

And laugh with you laughing at me

For not knowing what the fuck

You’re talking about

That whole awkward situation

When you intersect that point

Where language fails

That

Should I say it?

That border

Now it just got political

Multi-cultural

Transcendental

Intellectual

And all that bullshit

We invent to hide our ignorance

Our ignorance

The builder of fear

Resentment

Frustration

And when they all strike at once

Violence

Violence in all forms

I once stormed out of a Denny’s

In El Paso, TX

Because they all struck

At the same time

I was the lone white boy

In a group of internationals

I was the lone mono-linguist

At the table

I was isolated

Isolated by language

Discriminated against by language

Angered by language

I was angered

As I threw a twenty on the table

And rushed off

Into the safety of the darkness

Walking 13 lonely blocks home

Slowly igniting a specific anger

That sparked

An overwhelming generalization

That seeped through my veins

Blurring my vision

This is my country

I screamed

My country!

An us and them

Began to form as a callous

On the lower, back

Conservative corner of my heart

If you want to be an American

Speak English

This is an English speaking country

If you want to live in this country

Learn English

This too easily fell from my lips

An unwanted glimpse

Into my blackened soul

A ferocious anger

Had fueled a rage

From behind my eyes

It burned

Like an unstoppable migraine

Pounding and pounding

Paving a hot searing path

Through my heart

As I cursed my

Grandmother’s tongue

The voice of my ancestors

I had destroyed

The bridge to my past

Unable to communicate

I blamed the mouth

And not the ear

Fearing the unknown sounds

Unable to strike the match of knowledge

I was unwilling to open

My eyes

My heart

My Mind

In that moment

I had militarized my border

Instead of

Breaking down the walls before me

And broadening

My mono-linguistic horizons

I stood as an unrelenting mountain

That day

A rising sun set across

My barren tongue

As a new type of Sahara was born

Announcer

How many women

Do I have in the audience?

Ladies could you please stand up

Guys this one is for you

Fellows

Repeat after me

Step 3

Decide to turn you will

Your life over to the care

Of a minority

Let’s repeat that again, shall we?

Step 3

Decide to turn your will

Your life over to the care

Of a minority

Thank you ladies

You can have a seat.

Student Services 220

I arrived at student services

Ready to change my bubble

I even practiced on my way there

I’m here to claim my heritage

I would like to switch

My classification

Yah

I had it down

As I stepped up to the counter

Hi I

- your ID-

What?

The girl behind the counter

Didn’t even look up

She just

Pointed to the sign next to me

It read

Have your ID ready

Sure

Okay

I can follow rules

So I gave her my ID

And told her what I wanted to do

Explaining every last detail

Then about halfway through

My glorious oration

I noticed she had this

This blank look on her face

And it wasn’t going away

Apparently

Nobody had ever asked

To do this before

Start bobble head shaking “No”.

She had transformed

Into a bobble head

“You can’t do that, sir.”

I can’t what?

This was my bubble

She was talking about

Who did she think she was?

I had been stopped

By the bubble patrol

This little 12 year old bubble Nazi

No bubble for you!

But I was calm.

I carefully laid out to her

In a manner

That politely let this little

Whatever

Know that I was not going to leave

“You want to change it to what?”

American Indian

She looked me over

Looked me over again

“Let me get my boss.”

Before I knew it

I have become

Some sort of circus freak

Supervisor after supervisor

Stepped up to see

The crazy white boy

Wanting to become an Indian

“You want to do what?”

Change

Bubble

“I’ll be right back, sir.”

An hour and a half later

After giving

Deposition after deposition

On why I wanted

To become an American Indian

And debating over the sovereignty

Of my bubble rights

They decided to huddle together

All 12 of ‘em

And I watched ‘em

And one by one

They looked up

Looked over

And shook their heads at me

What!

Finally the Gestapo

sent their little bubble Nazi over

Brandishing a clip board

“Could you

Write down EXACTLY what it is

You are wanting to do

And could you

Sign it.”

Like I was trying

To get away with something

So I signed it

I signed the fucker

Undo Belt and Drop pants.

American Indian

Hello

My name is

Brandon Chase Goldsmith

And I am a white

A really

Really white

American Indian

Announcer

Buy it today

Your very own

12 step program

For recovering white Caucasians

Thank you