The Beulah role, like the ones of Amos and Andy, was originally played by a white actress in blackface and then was passed from one black actress to another as the perennial and cliched hand me down role, the kind of which were for so long the bane (and sole employment) for black actors and actresses. No matter the program or film, the roles were always the same. But when my dad yelled to alert us to the presence of "a blue" we knew that something different was in the offing. This was not yet another black person caught in the insidious web of media promulgated stereotypes, this was a black person standing on stage practicing their craft--usually comedy or music--in a more dignified manner. As such they heralded a moment in American history that my father didn't want us to miss, a moment when blacks did not have to debase themselves in order to receive their due as they had for so long. There were only a few shows that these black actors, actresses and performers were likely to appear on and there was a hint of something liberally conspiratorial in their mere presence, since whatever shows they were invited to appear on were clearly going against the prevailing racial status quo. Indeed the Southern station affiliates often refused to air those shows that had an integrated lineup, segregation then being the Southern social norm. Advertisers and sponsors were also wary of the the black presence on these programs upsetting their largely white viewers as well. Variety shows such as "The Jackie Gleason Show," "the Ed Sullivan Show" and later "The Dean Martin Show" were the most likely arenas in which a dark presence would suddenly and unexpectedly appear. Likely as not it would the same handful of black performers such as comedians George Kirby and Nipsey Russell, or singers Della Reese and Ella Fitzgerald. Sammy Davis, Jr. was likely to pop up on his "Rat Pack" buddy Dean Martin's show. And if you were allowed to stay up late, you might catch Hines, Hines and Dad (a young Maurice and Gregory Hines with their dad) tap dancing on "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson."

Each of the shows hosts and producers knew that they were breaking the color line and each of the performers knew that they were breaking new ground as well. The comedians in particular made sure to leave their more risque material back in the clubs in Harlem, Philly, and Detriot, where they could let it all hang out for their black audiences. But with a clear intention to let everyone know that "we" too could sing meaningless ditties and novelty songs as well anyone, George Kirby could often be found on the Ed Sullvan Show singing "There's A Hole in the Bucket Dear Liza" of all the corn ball country foolishness. In true assimilationist spirit one could be "a blue" but one couldn't let too much blue show in ones act. This was, after all, being beamed via fuzzy black and white images into living rooms all across America. The presence of "a blue" in the television studio could easily become quite volatile as America found out when Petula Clark innocently touched Harry Belafonte's arm as they were singing a duet on "The Petula Clark Show." Immediatey the switchboard lit up with outraged white citizen's venting about the blatant violation of the racial codes of conduct created by this benign interracial moment of vaguely insinuated intimacy. And this was in 1968, when both Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr. were violently murdered. So my father's excitement was not without reason or context.

\I thought about the presence of blacks in mainstream institutional culture again when I got an invitation recently to attend a program about diversity, or "Diversity." as it was heralded on the invitation. The invitation came from one of my favorite local institutions, the Museum of Contemporary Art (MCA) and invites the public to "...join them as they examine the evolving concept of diversity and its impact on museums, artists, and society today." Joining MCA's director Madeleine Grynsztejn in this discussion will be artists Glenn Ligon and Tania Bruguera along with Melissa Harris-Lacewell, Associate Professor at Princeton University. Given MCA's success in making its programming more inclusive than a lot of other museums, I was surprised to see them still doing what I think is the earnest and presumably well meaning "diversity" song and dance act. I actually think they have--through a lot of hard work--achieved that immediate goal and should now be considering how to achieve something quite different, something I would call inclusiveness or inclusivity. It is this inclusivity that should now be the focus of their enhanced institutional efforts.

"Diversity" to me implies something akin to the blue M & M campaign from a few years ago. You'll recall that M & M (Mars Candy) created a momentary marketing buzz by announcing that they were going to add a new color to the longtime standard selection. They were going to diversify, i.e. add another color to the mix, and invited the public to suggest what the new color should be. Diversity by public consensus! The problem with this kind of diversity strategy is that while one can loudly proclaim that a new and exciting color is being added (to the M & Ms or the institutional mix) the basic taste, structure and packaging remains exactly the same. The only difference being that you can now loudly trumpet your willingness to include heretofore excluded colors. This is, of course, a kind of tokenism by yet another name and trades on the momentary (but ultimately empty and short lived) excitement of seeing a new color in still unexpected places. It would seem to me that by now we should be approaching a point where anyone should be expected to be anywhere. True inclusiveness happens when one allows the flavor and perhaps the packaging and institutional flavor to then take on a different quality in response to the expanding cast of players. MCA is in fact doing this in its exhibition and performance programming, but is laboring--as so many continue to--under the weight of a language and term that is inadequate to articulating the current challenges that lie ahead for public institutions.

In an age in which it would be superfluous to say that "diversity" has been achieved in the White House, given Barack Obama's position as the titular head of that institution, it's time to turn away from "diversity" as an operative objective and turn instead towards the more meaningful and substantial goal of making institutional spaces ever more inclusive, in the case of museums, to artists and audiences alike. One way to accomplish this is to consider how in fact the institution's identity can be meaningfully transformed and expanded conceptually by this enhanced inclusiveness. Inclusivity implies a desire to actually change through institutional expansion, while diversity implies that those being brought in have to simply fit into the normative and dominant paradigms.

One final note on the upcoming MCA program (which is taking place on September 9th). I always tend to take note of who is not present and accounted for when these kinds of programs take place, since that absence to me speaks louder than any words. Missing from this program are probably some of the only voices who really matter, the ones whose role it is to shape the institutional agenda and experience. In that regard I'd love to see a few of MCA's curators and trustees hold forth on their views about "diversity" or inclusiveness, since they actually have the very real power to enact this programmatically, not two artists and an academic with no substantial affiliation with the institution. I know a number of theses trustees and curators well, and would certainly look forward to hearing their take on this in a public forum, as they are indeed quite an engaged and progressive lot. Now that would be one conversation I really wouldn't want to miss.