#NCGA: JUST when you thought Chapel Hill couldn’t get any kookier along comes => THIS GUY.

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13037770-1382722944-640x360Graig Meyer is, um, *interesting*.  He’s running for his first full term  (appointed October 2013) as a member of the North Carolina House.  Meyer represents District 50 — which includes parts of Orange and Durham counties.  He served with the Chapel Hill-Carrboro schools as something called ” coordinator for the Blue Ribbon Mentor-Advocate program and director of student equity and volunteer services” prior to joining the House.  Real touchy, feely stuff.  (He and Joe Killian can probably relate.)

According to the linked article above, Meyer apparently struggles with whom he admires more — his dad or Barack Hussein Obama. He’s been a big cheerleader for The Round Rev’s Moral Monday rabble, as evidenced here and here and here and here and here.  And BOY does this guy wear his love for his home state on his sleeve. Meyer has voted to kill Opportunity scholarships for low-income kids, to save Common Core, and to kill the budget that gave teachers a pay raise. 

If that doesn’t beat all, get a load of his weepy self-examination about his Whiteness, White Guilt and,um, ”White Supremacy”:

[…] The truly difficult work is looking deep within myself to recognize
where my own reservoirs of Whiteness reside and what value or burdens
they present to me. Every time I review Peggy McIntosh’s inventory of
White privilege I learn something more about myself, and-through
attentiveness to my own experience-I think I could add a few more
forms of racial privilege to her list. Frequently, I find myself
examining my blind spots when a colleague of color expresses very
different feelings about some experience we shared. This is fairly
painless when it simply requires hearing about how they read between
the lines of a presentation or caught a racist remark that sailed over
my head. When the dissonance in our experience was in some way the
result of my Whiteness, it’s a little more painful but also more
revealing.
My White guilt tends to creep up most when I’m forced to reflect on
the power I wield. For instance, I will spend weeks mentally reviewing
an incident when one of my staff members bears the brunt of my
ignorance or proclivity for dominance. I want them to trust me, I want
them to like me, and I anger myself when I learn that I may have done
something that makes it more difficult for them to do either.
Perhaps even more important to our work are times when my power allows
me to make decisions that negatively impact students of color.
Although I often try to seek counsel of colleagues of color, it is
inevitable that times arise where it’s only after the fact that one of
them points out some flaw in my reasoning. The flaws are often the
result of my ingrained Whiteness and my own blindness to its perpetual
presence.
I suppose it’s cliché to say that the work is never done or that none
of us ever fully “get it.” But I can’t help feeling a strong desire to
master this work, to learn all there is to know, and to do enough to
become the “good White guy.”Ultimately, it’s probably the deepest
vestige of my own White supremacy that feeds this need to know it all,
to be right, and to be in charge. Paradoxically, the deeper I delve
into this process, the more I feel called to lead other colleagues
through the journey. My own capacity for leadership perpetuates the
Whiteness within me, beckoning a return trip to look in the mirror.
Perhaps I can’t fully suppress all the Whiteness within me, and maybe
that’s for the better. The process is the task, the journey has no
end, and I will always be White. (personal communication. March 2005)
*Source: Pages 240-241 Book: Courageous conversations about race: a
field guide for achieving equity in schools. Author: Singleton, Glenn
E. Published: Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Corwin Press, c2006.*