Pardon the inflammatory subject. I tried other subject lines, but this seems to best capture the three lines.

1. To start with, he's half-black. We all know his mother was white, so he's not all-black.

2. Given my prose of late, my unification-oriented prose would follow this with "he's not a black man, he's an American man" because he reflects some cross-section of America.

Both are true, but I want to point out they mix into something more incendiary: he has not lived the inner-city life.

I work with some Americans of African descent. They are as middle-class, middle-America (and nerdy) as I am. I don't think of them as black, I think of them American. I do the same for the Indians, Asians, Russians, that I work with - if their culture is not prominent, if they have assimilated with the rest of their surrounding Americans, then I don't see any relevance on their family tree's native land, nor their language at home, etc.

So if I mention someone's cultural background only when it is markedly different than the archetypes (and, yes, I do mean plural) that I hold as "unqualified American," then what does "black" mean?

I'm not black, so I don't claim any right to speak. I merely ask your indulgence. I have talked with some friends who grew up on the 'wrong side of the tracks,' some black friends.

They tell me about the times of fearing "driving while black," where cops harass or ticket drivers who "look suspicious" because they're in the wrong (read: white) neighborhood. The describe in defeated voices how store owners follow them around, either overtly, or by finding something to do, or simply ask them to leave if they're not buying something.

They face seeing more of their colour in jail or being described as "people of interest" in crimes. Or being victims of black-on-black crimes. They see some sobering statics make the transition from abstract numbers in a study into something far more concrete and sinister.

They see their mothers' tired eyes, hear the same sigh as they're told why they can't go to a better school, or move to someplace where the storekeepers aren't so prejudiced, where the cops aren't so scary (or scared of them.) They hear about their extended family attaining more infamy than success.

This is what I think of when I hear "black man." I'm not saying all African-Americas live like this. I'm just saying that my mind thinks of the inner-city lower-class hardscrabble lives when I hear "black man."

By this regard, Obama is not a black man. He has not had to live like this. He has not had to think like this.

He is indeed hope, but not everyone can follow in his steps. He may be hope for people in the projects, but his way is not the way out for the people most needing his dream.

They don't have a mother who is willing/able to fly to South-East Asia. He has no had to live in fear of the police, nor think about how unfair the system looks.

He still has hope because it was not crushed from him, not beaten from him, not cause for him to be mocked. He has lived with the lower class, but as an adult. His eyes were already formed, filled with hope, hope in the future, hope in the system, hope in the people.

Hope that some of my friends lacked.

Flame away.