There is a petition on WH.gov that seeks signatures for the purpose of restoring basic rights to the literally millions of ex-convicts who lost those rights due to their convictions and prison terms. Most people can tell you about the bigger items of disenfranchisement that occur when you are convicted of a felony. Many know about forfeiting your right to vote in many jurisdictions, your right to right to own a firearm even for protection and depending on your conviction, your right to hold certain positions either in the workplace or public office.
What people don't know is how much deeper it is than just the two or three examples that some people can come up with. Being an ex-prisoner is like being a tourist in your own community. I use the term ex-prisoner because the term ex-convict is a misnomer. Its a term that doesn't actually mean what most think it does. In this country, you are NEVER an “ex” convict. You are a person that has been convicted of a crime that has either served your “debt” to society or did not get sentenced to jail time. Release from prison has absolutely nothing to do with that label “convict.” In very, very, exceedingly rare cases (if you are not white, rich or know too many secrets to be allowed to write a book) you can apply either to your governor (in state convictions) or the President (federal cases) for a pardon but pardons are subject to restrictions that vary from state to state such as only being applicable to arrests that do not lead to a subsequent conviction or smaller, less serious crimes such as forgery, voter fraud, embezzlement, see where I'm going, basically “white collar” crimes. It is designed that way to allow the lighter skinned crooks free reign to continue being crooks, just be better at it the next time. Pardons are also given rarely to those who have stayed out of prison for a lengthy time that varies from state to state with no more contact with the criminal justice system. Maybe one out of every 100,000 of these are granted. I'll have to look up the stats to find out the true numbers, but trust me, you have a better chance of being attacked by a brown bear and a polar bear on the same day you were attacked by a shark, on the beach. If you are black, and your crime is anything more serious than say you stole a bike at 16, you have a better chance of hitting the Powerball and MegaMillions on the same day. In other words, yeah its possible but HIGHLY unlikely.
That being said, you are never going to be an ex-convict. Now that you have that scarlet C branded on your forehead, what are your options? Well to be honest, you don't have many. Lets talk about housing. You can't live just anywhere as your conviction bars you from any housing complex that accepts federal dollars (notice how I used a euphemism for the projects) Yes, you can't live in the worst places in most cities. A lot of people think it only applies to drug cases, that's not true, it also applies to “violent” crimes of which we all know the biggies, Murder, Kidnapping, Armed Robbery, etc. But guess, what, the term “violent” means many things to many people, in some jurisdictions, its burglary, some its car theft, if you have a weapon with you. Its possession of a unregistered firearm. I don't know about you my readers, but I don't know many ex-prisoners that don't have one of the two types of convictions, especially black ex-prisoners. A common tactic used by prosecuting/district attorneys is to load black defendant's up with every crime that they can think of that could possibly stick. That's how a lone shooting, or burglary, or theft ends up carrying 100 years in prison. If the defendant is white, there is an effort to find the least serious crime that fits the fact, but that's an article for another time. Its not just what happens at sentencing that is unjust and outright racist, it begins the moment the police read you your rights. So most of your guys that you know just got out the joint are living with their baby momma, Mother, girlfriend, or family and are NOT on the lease. That's allowed as well as it creates the perfect trap for catching and developing snitches. Police pull up to her door, tell her they want information on this or that, if she refuses they tell her that she knows its a violation of her lease to have Bobby living here and they can evict her tomorrow (actually they can't but most people don't read their leases further than how much they have to pay).
We already know and have been exhaustively inundated with stories of employment discrimination by unscrupulous bosses. From forcing those on parole/probation to work longer hours for no pay knowing that a call to the ex-prisoner's PO will result in his going back to prison. If your check is short, who are you going to complain to? You can't just quit as part of your parole/probation agreement is you remain gainfully employed. But what if you can't find a job? FIND A JOB!!!!! Or go back to prison/jail. But Jalal I see/know plenty of ex-prisoners that don't have a job, did you ever ask them if they are in violation of their parole/probation? Many remain on the street because one, there's no place to house them, two, the authorities know its just a matter of time before they commit another crime or three, its not that important. The revolving door as always turning, its a never ending money pit for the powers that be. More ex-prisoners on the street, more money we can ask for in police presence especially if they are all in one place. The more enterprising of these brothers cannot even start their own businesses due to the fact that depending on the profession, many require licensing by the state they are in. For example, in Texas, you are disqualified from selling insurance, real estate, liquor, candy, among other things on a list so long it would be twice as long as this article. You also cannot be a fireman (why after a conviction you can't run in a building to save a life I'll never know), policeman, probation officer, counselor (in most places, some will allow you to be a therapist/assistant). You also are precluded from being licensed as a cosmetologist, social worker, PhD, MD, or J.D. (attorney). You can't be a member of the bar so being a “certified/licensed” paralegal is prohibited. Basically all the professions that would allow the ex-prisoner to raise his standard of living so that he does not have to commit crime just to eat every day are removed from possibility.
Lastly lets deal with the intangible effects of a criminal conviction. These are effects that are not codified in any law, rule or regulation. What happens when you are an ex-prisoner is that you immediately become index-able. You become visible in that electronic frontier called the world wide web. That has drastic effect upon not only your housing/employment opportunities but also to whether you are accepted in large swaths of this society. With the growth of businesses like Emily's List and InstantBackgroundCheck, or as I call it niggawitagun.com, now anyone can find out exactly who you are and what you were charged with. This has ramifications well beyond the noble and intended function of not wanting a sex-offender repairing your child's ceiling. It also means that if your name comes up at all, possible business opportunities simply move on. It also means that there are now maps that show not only where the rapist/child molesters live but also where the armed robbers live and burglars live. Hover over a name and up pops his criminal history with everything but the most important thing, THE DATE THE CRIME WAS COMMITTED. So now you live on the same block as Sammy the baby booty bandit who just got out last month and you haven't committed a crime in 30 years. You'll notice also that there is curious effect that I call convict redlining. All these individuals usually live in the same areas of town. They are pushed into these areas and people are surprised that the crime rates are decidedly higher in those areas. Also read into the fact that sex/violent offenders cannot live within a decidedly ambiguous and arbitrary number of feet of a school. What is a school, anything they say a school is, after school programs at the community center, school. Weekend bible study at church, school. If you own a home and the street is rezoned for a elementary school across the street in that vacant lot, guess what, YOU HAVE TO MOVE. So you sell your home and decide to move to the 'burbs. The first thing that the homeowner's association is going to do is run a background check on you and by law they don't have to accept you. Because more of us don't own our homes, we never think about how quietly these associations have grown in power to the point where even if you somehow make through the mortgage process, they are that last line of defense. It even trickles down to apartment complexes. High end complexes won't let you rent if your car has rust or a broken muffler, even if you somehow dodge the whole “felony conviction” thing.
To make this even more personal, let me tell you about an incident that happened to me. My son turned four and in Texas that means he could go to preschool. Now since we live in an upscale part of Dallas, down the street from Deon Sanders, around the corner from a few Mavericks, there is serious MONEY here. I'm just playing the sidelines trying to provide a better life for my kids, you know the usual Amerikkkan dream bullshit. The preschool he ended up at is surrounded by upscale homes, the students dropped off in Benzes, Beamers and the occasional Rolls. (Google Frisco, Texas you'll know what I mean) I could care less about any of that, I drove up in my Dodge and didn't bat an eye. To say my son was one of the few black kids is an understatement, maybe 15, 20 in the whole school. My kid is friendly, not too militant (yet) and made lots of little white friends. On one occasion, the school had a parade in the school for all the little kiddos to show off their artwork. My wife couldn't get off so I said “what the hell” I'll go, its my kid. Now this is one of those schools that looks normal from the outside but go through the bomb proof doors on the other side of the concrete car stoppers, its a virtual prison inside. You have to be buzzed into the office. No just walking down the hallway. Must provide your DL to see your own child. But this is where shit went left. When you provide that DL, they do an instant background check. Guess what mine showed, yep, you got it. Additionally let me explain the insidiousness of the process. Many states have combined Sex/Violent Offender databases, that means that the batterers are lumped into the same list as the molesters, the armed robbers with the rapists. So what you say, well when you go to the registry it is emblazoned across the top SEXUAL PREDATOR and violent offender registry. Most people don't dig into your profile to find out that you were just a shooter, they don't have to. The simple fact that they see predator is enough for them to move against you. I have a real good friend that was denied initial entry into a union due to a lowly paid functionary that only saw sexual on the top of the list and assumed that he was a rapist. He got it straightened out and now he's a journeyman electrician that makes over $50 an hour, but how many people don't get the benefit of the doubt? Back to the story, the principal pulled me into her office and told me that in order for me to stand in the hallway with 30 or 40 other parents to watch a five minute procession of 4 year olds, she would have to “escort” me. So here I am being “policed” by a 5 foot nothing inch, 100 pound, with a brick in her pocket, white woman whose there to make sure that I didn't “cause any issues,” as she put it. Like I would come to the school to commit a crime in front of my kid. I was bracing myself for her to ask to frisk me.
Its kind of amusing to me as I know the fear that even a nice guy like me can engender in the average white person. That is what it is like to have that weight around your neck. That's the kind of experience that is not written about in the media or in books about the struggle. Those are the “death of a thousand paper cuts” that brothers go thru every day just trying to stay out of prison. So would I sign a petition that called for the rights of ex-prisoners to be reinstated, hell to the yeah, I would. Removing that disability would mean that my family and I could live wherever we would like and it wouldn't depend on whether or not the “community” accepted them and not me. It would mean that if some fool enters my home at 3:00 am with malice aforethought I could meet him with hollow points and not have the first question by the police be “do you know you are not allowed to be around firearms?” It would mean that I would be able to enter school grounds without a “bodyguard” being present. It would mean that when my name is ran through a thousand databases around the U.S., the first thing that pops up won't be ex-prisoner. That would mean that my chances of getting a loan for a mortgage or a vehicle won't be dependent on my criminal history. (oh, you didn't know that loan companies run background checks, you betta recognize) That would mean that when the police pull me over for a broken tail light when they run my license it won't buzz telling them that I'm a dangerous ex-prisoner that needs to be approached cautiously (read: that means keep his hands in sight and your hand on your weapon cause this nigga crazy) That would mean that I could raise my voice without seeming even more threatening that most brothers and sister are already. What that would mean in the end is I would be discriminated against, hated, feared, and discounted because I was a black guy like everyone else, not a black guy with a felony.
Drops mic, walks from stage, drippin blackness.
Showing posts with label Community Relations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Community Relations. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Saturday, November 9, 2013
The N-Word
I have told myself time and time again that I would write something about the argument that is going on within our nation about the term nigger/nigga. I have went back and forth with myself about whether or not it is ever okay to use this word, whether in casual conversation with the fellas or heaven forbid with a white guy.
I believe that we as elder brothers/sisters in the struggle have lost sight of the reality of the situation. Realistically speaking, language is dynamic. A broader conversation could be had about profanity in general but for now let’s just talk about the so-called n-word. First and foremost, we need to stop calling it the “n-word.” When we say that, we may as well say nigga/nigger. When we hear that we don’t think nasty, we don’t think Neptune, we don’t even think narcissistic. We know what is being implied. To me, this gives others license to use the term but be protected by linguistic work around. The argument will be “well I didn’t say nigga/nigger, so see, I’m not a racist. I would much prefer the word not exist but I’m not retarded, I don’t live in a vacuum. I live in the real world.
That being said, there is a primary, undeniable reason today’s generation throws nigga/nigger around with no seeming sense of the word’s power and unfortunate history. It has nothing to do with a lack of grounding in our history. It has very little to do with the constant bombardment of the word through popular media. It is simply the FACT that unless you are at least 35 year old for the most part, you have no personal connection to the word. I, at 50+ years old, still remember “going down south” in the sixties, early seventies. I remember the stern warnings from the Great-Grandmother, Aunts, Uncles and cousins. I remember being told that I was from Gary, Indiana and that was a wholly different world for Blacks than Port Gibson, Mississippi or Chattanooga, Tennessee. There were things that you could get away with up north that would get you hurt in the south. Most of today’s generation didn’t have that experience. They, for the most part, have NEVER been called a nigga/nigger in anger. At least that’s the way they take it. No white person has ever looked at them and with venom dripping from their voice told them “nigger.” So there is no emotional connection to the word.
That’s why they are so comfortable with their friends and even white acquaintances using the word. It has become just another part of the common lexicon like bitch, hoe, ratchet, ghetto, etc. Although these words can be used to describe anyone in our society, they have become part and parcel used more often than not to describe us. Due to this overuse of these phrases we have come to be desensitized by their use. A nigga is my boy, “that’s my nigga.” “Bitch please,” how we argue with our queens. It’s all just culture now, a culture that we can rail against but eventually we have to accept our ineffectiveness and move on. We have to quit trying to go against the tide of cultural Amerikkka. Our battle cannot be fought in blogs; we’re outgunned by videos, YouTube, Facebook, twitter, etc. We are also in pitched battle with other mature “adults” who also use the word cavalierly in normal conversation. I’ll even admit I use it. I try not to, but when in Rome . . . As a casual aside, I actually went over 10 years without using it during my exploration of Black consciousness. Then culture changed and everything was nigga this, nigga that, bitch this, ratchet ass hoe that. Additionally, thousands of times a day on radio, thru Pandora, I-heart-radio etc., we hear the word. Record companies appear to reward our people for how many times they use the most degrading terms, as well as other exhortations to conspicuous consumption. It is exceedingly hard to combat this trend. As distasteful as it may be to us, what I and the conscious brothers/sisters I rotate with call the “lumpenproletariat” (look it up if you’re lacking in your 19th century Karl Marx) don’t see it that way. To make them understand the true nature of the term would require tearing down almost everything they think they know and instilling in them their true nature. Does anyone have time for that? Is that more important than teaching them how to respect their mates, or how to stop killing each other for little or no reason? Is that more important than teaching them how to avoid the pitfalls in life that will either kill them or incarcerate them? I think that we have bigger fish to fry, as the old folks used to say. Call me whatever you’d like but just don’t shoot me.
So the question was asked, is there any such thing as honorary black, or is it ever acceptable for white guys/gals to call you, or me, a nigga? Although it pains my heart to say it, I would say it depends. It depends on the situation. I’ve had young white guys who didn’t know me approach me like “what’s up my nigga?” (Suffice it to say they never did it again) They did it because their contemporaries never checked them. They did it because where they are from its acceptable behavior. They don’t see the world as polarized as we do. Some of them have true love for their ”niggaz.” They grew up in the hood and they know no more than their friends what the word truly means. Honorary blackness is out of the question as they’ll undoubtedly learn as they grow into their parents and are accepted by the society as a whole. I’ll bet money that Eminem probably used the word when he was young and running with D12 but when he became more attuned to the nuances of civilized behavior he realized that everything ain’t for everybody. He realized, like many before and many since, that everybody ain’t your guy and some people will tear your head off for the use of that term. In other words, he grew up. He became more mature. As long as we as a society accept their use of the term, endearment or not, they will use it with impunity. Usually, all it takes is for one brother to threaten, or perpetrate, violence due to their use of the word for them to realize that it is a no-no. What cannot be done is remove the word from the English language as a whole. It’s like Pandora’s Box, once its contents have escaped, they can never be returned to the box.
I believe that we as elder brothers/sisters in the struggle have lost sight of the reality of the situation. Realistically speaking, language is dynamic. A broader conversation could be had about profanity in general but for now let’s just talk about the so-called n-word. First and foremost, we need to stop calling it the “n-word.” When we say that, we may as well say nigga/nigger. When we hear that we don’t think nasty, we don’t think Neptune, we don’t even think narcissistic. We know what is being implied. To me, this gives others license to use the term but be protected by linguistic work around. The argument will be “well I didn’t say nigga/nigger, so see, I’m not a racist. I would much prefer the word not exist but I’m not retarded, I don’t live in a vacuum. I live in the real world.
That being said, there is a primary, undeniable reason today’s generation throws nigga/nigger around with no seeming sense of the word’s power and unfortunate history. It has nothing to do with a lack of grounding in our history. It has very little to do with the constant bombardment of the word through popular media. It is simply the FACT that unless you are at least 35 year old for the most part, you have no personal connection to the word. I, at 50+ years old, still remember “going down south” in the sixties, early seventies. I remember the stern warnings from the Great-Grandmother, Aunts, Uncles and cousins. I remember being told that I was from Gary, Indiana and that was a wholly different world for Blacks than Port Gibson, Mississippi or Chattanooga, Tennessee. There were things that you could get away with up north that would get you hurt in the south. Most of today’s generation didn’t have that experience. They, for the most part, have NEVER been called a nigga/nigger in anger. At least that’s the way they take it. No white person has ever looked at them and with venom dripping from their voice told them “nigger.” So there is no emotional connection to the word.
That’s why they are so comfortable with their friends and even white acquaintances using the word. It has become just another part of the common lexicon like bitch, hoe, ratchet, ghetto, etc. Although these words can be used to describe anyone in our society, they have become part and parcel used more often than not to describe us. Due to this overuse of these phrases we have come to be desensitized by their use. A nigga is my boy, “that’s my nigga.” “Bitch please,” how we argue with our queens. It’s all just culture now, a culture that we can rail against but eventually we have to accept our ineffectiveness and move on. We have to quit trying to go against the tide of cultural Amerikkka. Our battle cannot be fought in blogs; we’re outgunned by videos, YouTube, Facebook, twitter, etc. We are also in pitched battle with other mature “adults” who also use the word cavalierly in normal conversation. I’ll even admit I use it. I try not to, but when in Rome . . . As a casual aside, I actually went over 10 years without using it during my exploration of Black consciousness. Then culture changed and everything was nigga this, nigga that, bitch this, ratchet ass hoe that. Additionally, thousands of times a day on radio, thru Pandora, I-heart-radio etc., we hear the word. Record companies appear to reward our people for how many times they use the most degrading terms, as well as other exhortations to conspicuous consumption. It is exceedingly hard to combat this trend. As distasteful as it may be to us, what I and the conscious brothers/sisters I rotate with call the “lumpenproletariat” (look it up if you’re lacking in your 19th century Karl Marx) don’t see it that way. To make them understand the true nature of the term would require tearing down almost everything they think they know and instilling in them their true nature. Does anyone have time for that? Is that more important than teaching them how to respect their mates, or how to stop killing each other for little or no reason? Is that more important than teaching them how to avoid the pitfalls in life that will either kill them or incarcerate them? I think that we have bigger fish to fry, as the old folks used to say. Call me whatever you’d like but just don’t shoot me.
So the question was asked, is there any such thing as honorary black, or is it ever acceptable for white guys/gals to call you, or me, a nigga? Although it pains my heart to say it, I would say it depends. It depends on the situation. I’ve had young white guys who didn’t know me approach me like “what’s up my nigga?” (Suffice it to say they never did it again) They did it because their contemporaries never checked them. They did it because where they are from its acceptable behavior. They don’t see the world as polarized as we do. Some of them have true love for their ”niggaz.” They grew up in the hood and they know no more than their friends what the word truly means. Honorary blackness is out of the question as they’ll undoubtedly learn as they grow into their parents and are accepted by the society as a whole. I’ll bet money that Eminem probably used the word when he was young and running with D12 but when he became more attuned to the nuances of civilized behavior he realized that everything ain’t for everybody. He realized, like many before and many since, that everybody ain’t your guy and some people will tear your head off for the use of that term. In other words, he grew up. He became more mature. As long as we as a society accept their use of the term, endearment or not, they will use it with impunity. Usually, all it takes is for one brother to threaten, or perpetrate, violence due to their use of the word for them to realize that it is a no-no. What cannot be done is remove the word from the English language as a whole. It’s like Pandora’s Box, once its contents have escaped, they can never be returned to the box.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Trayvon Martin The Aftermath Part Two: The Blackout
Blackout
As I’m quite sure many of us have done over the last few days, I have sat down and thought about what I think would be an adequate response to the TM verdict handed down in Florida. I won’t go into a long description about what happened, as unless you’ve been in a coma or otherwise off planet we all have heard from multiple sources who did what and how. The only unifying theme is still no one knows exactly what happened, and that’s not an issue. We believe we’ve been wronged and that’s enough.
We as Africans in this country have volumes of evidence that support that belief but that is not the thrust of this article. I am not here to describe what anyone with a third grade capacity to read can go to the library and research. I’m here to talk about what we do next if we are really dissatisfied with how we are treated in this country. I hope my readers will excuse me but I have a thing for preambles. I’m a big believer in the setup.
Our problem with a noteworthy response is two-fold. One, the response must be big enough to make our intended audience take note and two it must not in any way lead to us harming others or being harmed by others in ignorance/fear.
Let me first explain what won’t work. Pictures, however artfully done, won’t solve the problem. Facebook posts with Jesus’ (Jesus’s?) arm around TM are useless as they migrate slowly off the page, replaced by pics in Ghetto or Ghetto Fabulous or Vine or some other momentary pastime. Long, passionate blog posts, articles or YouTube rants, (with the exception of mine of course) aren’t effective as the only ones of us with a readership/viewership large enough are long on descriptions of the problem and short on solutions.
The true problem with forming and executing an effective, meaningful response is our respective level of dissatisfaction. I’ll admit I heard this from a late brother of mine Mahdi Nu’man who described us as Africans in America in a khutbah at Jum’mah services some years ago. See my friends/loved ones/haters as well, any response to what Africans in America now claim to be the latest “last straw” or the “I’m fed up and I ain’t gon take it no mo” moment in our history in the country is largely dependent on to what degree one participates. (Damn, I guess I’m the king of the run on sentence as well) There are some of us who are 10 percent dissatisfied and there are those of us who are 100 percent dissatisfied. The biggest difference between now and the civil rights era was that back then, they were 100% dissatisfied. Things couldn’t get any worse than they already were without going back to slavery. We have made great strides since then and now there are many of us who have something to lose. We identify/sympathize/empathize with what happens to us around the country but only to a point. Not to the point where we will jeopardize what we have worked for to get where we are.
Before you begin the requisite howling, raising of pitchforks and lighting of torches, let me explain that I’m not in the hood envious of those who are more fortunate than I. I live in a upscale gated community in a suburb north of Dallas. I don’t live here because I’m scared of or any way ashamed of my people. I’m here because they have the best schools in the area. Unfortunately, where we are forced to live for economic reasons, for the most part, have horrible school systems. (I’ll talk about tax based school systems in another article) But I digress. I have African friends who are PhDs, and who possess MBAs. I myself am simply lazy, I am maybe two or three classes away from my MA, having already graduated with a BS. I also have close friends that are a bit less . . . what’s the word, uhhh, safe. I have close friends that I wouldn’t want to be caught in a dark alley with. (Their lower self may get the better or them) I love them both as they are both reflections of the same person. The point is that my more erudite, accomplished friends may not be 100% dissatisfied with what it may take for this culture to respect us. My niggas from the hood though, down for whatever.
THE FINAL SOLUTION
Believe it or not, my plan won’t take much beyond a bit of sacrifice; it will though take us ALL, each and every last one of us. My plan will involve everyone from our illustrious President to that brother doing life, or its equivalent, in all of the jails and prisons in America. Whether you are a teacher, a judge, a policeman, criminal, inmate, or a fireman, I’m talking about you. Whether you host a nationally televised talk show, a weblog, or stand on a box in the middle of a vacant lot like Lawrence Fishburne in Boyz N Da Hood. My plan doesn’t involve boycotting any business as that has shown to be somewhat limited in scope. I read a rumor that the Koch brothers financed GZ’s defense so we should boycott Charmin or Bounty or something. Any plan must be bigger than that due to the fact that many of us (most) use the store brand of paper products anyway. I don’t want us to march on the statehouse in any state or city hall in any city; we’ve been marching so long our feet should fall off. We are not going to esign a petition to any lawmaker or write a letter to our congressman. All of these solutions have been tried and they have all failed.
What we need to do is indicate to the rest of this country just how important we are to its EVERYDAY function. We need for those who claim that we need to quit whining about slavery, and making everything a race issue to see just how integral we are to EVERYTHING that goes on in this country. We need a national BLACKOUT. We need every last one of us to take a week off from work beginning say . . . Trayvon Martin’s birthday. Whatever your industry is, get sick for a week. For those of us with job security, just don’t show up. For those of us with bills to pay and need our little bitty job (most), call in sick with MERS or EBOLA or West Nile Fever. Now when I say BLACKOUT, that’s what I mean. I mean everyone. No nurses, no doctors. No air traffic controllers (are any of them African?). No entertainers. No athletes. No home health aides. No pharmacists, no drug dealers. Whatever you are, whatever you do. If you own a business, close for a week. No haircuts, no tease and flips. No soul food. (It’s fattening anyway) We don’t need leaders either, so the good Revs can stay home and take the week off too. We don’t even need your job to be done. Hopefully President Obama will come home to the Chi and spend some time in the hood where he’s from. (Hmmm, though under my plan his African Secret Service agents will be home too, well we’ll work on that one)
Now that’s part one. Part two is while you’re off for that week; rediscover your family, your community. Talk to your neighbors; make amends with that guy from down the street that you argued with at the last HOA meeting. Talk about how to make our communities safe without arming everyone to the teeth. Talk with those gangbangers who everyone is afraid to make eye contact with. No spending of our dollars. I mean none. No gas station visits. Stay home or walk, we need to walk more. No Wal-Mart, no Target, Dollar General/City/Family, nothing. Keep your money in your pocket. Drop your cable or satellite plan down to local channels for a week. Change your cell phone plan down to the basic plan for one week. Turn your lights off, go by candlelight if possible. Oh, and no church, no tithing, no mosques, no zakat. If the powers that be see we’re not even going to church they’ll know we’re doubly serious. This society needs to see that this country cannot function without us. We are more than just a subset of society that can be overlooked whenever something happens that we don’t agree with. My plan will cost this economy billions in lost revenue, lost profits and lost productivity. That is exactly my goal. The only thing that America respects is that which has the capacity to cost it money.
Of course they’ll be those of other ethnicities that are married to us, have children by us or share children with us. We are not exclusive, if you want to join, be our guest. Just know that this is not about you, it’s about US. No disrespect, love you to death, appreciate your support but this is a black thang. It’s okay for us to have a thang too. Like St. Patrick’s Day or Cinco de Mayo.
Of course they’ll be those of US who disagree with everything I’ve said and that’s fine as well. Of course, there will be pain. There will be those who lose their jobs, but look at it as the impetus for us to build businesses. Put yourself in the shoes of the employer who fired someone for participating in the blackout. They can't fire us all. Who will want to face the backlash of losing all of the black dollars we spend with their company. We’ll see who is 100% dissatisfied and to whom our treatment is a problem but “just not that deep.”
(Next Post: Going back down south)
As I’m quite sure many of us have done over the last few days, I have sat down and thought about what I think would be an adequate response to the TM verdict handed down in Florida. I won’t go into a long description about what happened, as unless you’ve been in a coma or otherwise off planet we all have heard from multiple sources who did what and how. The only unifying theme is still no one knows exactly what happened, and that’s not an issue. We believe we’ve been wronged and that’s enough.
We as Africans in this country have volumes of evidence that support that belief but that is not the thrust of this article. I am not here to describe what anyone with a third grade capacity to read can go to the library and research. I’m here to talk about what we do next if we are really dissatisfied with how we are treated in this country. I hope my readers will excuse me but I have a thing for preambles. I’m a big believer in the setup.
Our problem with a noteworthy response is two-fold. One, the response must be big enough to make our intended audience take note and two it must not in any way lead to us harming others or being harmed by others in ignorance/fear.
Let me first explain what won’t work. Pictures, however artfully done, won’t solve the problem. Facebook posts with Jesus’ (Jesus’s?) arm around TM are useless as they migrate slowly off the page, replaced by pics in Ghetto or Ghetto Fabulous or Vine or some other momentary pastime. Long, passionate blog posts, articles or YouTube rants, (with the exception of mine of course) aren’t effective as the only ones of us with a readership/viewership large enough are long on descriptions of the problem and short on solutions.
The true problem with forming and executing an effective, meaningful response is our respective level of dissatisfaction. I’ll admit I heard this from a late brother of mine Mahdi Nu’man who described us as Africans in America in a khutbah at Jum’mah services some years ago. See my friends/loved ones/haters as well, any response to what Africans in America now claim to be the latest “last straw” or the “I’m fed up and I ain’t gon take it no mo” moment in our history in the country is largely dependent on to what degree one participates. (Damn, I guess I’m the king of the run on sentence as well) There are some of us who are 10 percent dissatisfied and there are those of us who are 100 percent dissatisfied. The biggest difference between now and the civil rights era was that back then, they were 100% dissatisfied. Things couldn’t get any worse than they already were without going back to slavery. We have made great strides since then and now there are many of us who have something to lose. We identify/sympathize/empathize with what happens to us around the country but only to a point. Not to the point where we will jeopardize what we have worked for to get where we are.
Before you begin the requisite howling, raising of pitchforks and lighting of torches, let me explain that I’m not in the hood envious of those who are more fortunate than I. I live in a upscale gated community in a suburb north of Dallas. I don’t live here because I’m scared of or any way ashamed of my people. I’m here because they have the best schools in the area. Unfortunately, where we are forced to live for economic reasons, for the most part, have horrible school systems. (I’ll talk about tax based school systems in another article) But I digress. I have African friends who are PhDs, and who possess MBAs. I myself am simply lazy, I am maybe two or three classes away from my MA, having already graduated with a BS. I also have close friends that are a bit less . . . what’s the word, uhhh, safe. I have close friends that I wouldn’t want to be caught in a dark alley with. (Their lower self may get the better or them) I love them both as they are both reflections of the same person. The point is that my more erudite, accomplished friends may not be 100% dissatisfied with what it may take for this culture to respect us. My niggas from the hood though, down for whatever.
THE FINAL SOLUTION
Believe it or not, my plan won’t take much beyond a bit of sacrifice; it will though take us ALL, each and every last one of us. My plan will involve everyone from our illustrious President to that brother doing life, or its equivalent, in all of the jails and prisons in America. Whether you are a teacher, a judge, a policeman, criminal, inmate, or a fireman, I’m talking about you. Whether you host a nationally televised talk show, a weblog, or stand on a box in the middle of a vacant lot like Lawrence Fishburne in Boyz N Da Hood. My plan doesn’t involve boycotting any business as that has shown to be somewhat limited in scope. I read a rumor that the Koch brothers financed GZ’s defense so we should boycott Charmin or Bounty or something. Any plan must be bigger than that due to the fact that many of us (most) use the store brand of paper products anyway. I don’t want us to march on the statehouse in any state or city hall in any city; we’ve been marching so long our feet should fall off. We are not going to esign a petition to any lawmaker or write a letter to our congressman. All of these solutions have been tried and they have all failed.
What we need to do is indicate to the rest of this country just how important we are to its EVERYDAY function. We need for those who claim that we need to quit whining about slavery, and making everything a race issue to see just how integral we are to EVERYTHING that goes on in this country. We need a national BLACKOUT. We need every last one of us to take a week off from work beginning say . . . Trayvon Martin’s birthday. Whatever your industry is, get sick for a week. For those of us with job security, just don’t show up. For those of us with bills to pay and need our little bitty job (most), call in sick with MERS or EBOLA or West Nile Fever. Now when I say BLACKOUT, that’s what I mean. I mean everyone. No nurses, no doctors. No air traffic controllers (are any of them African?). No entertainers. No athletes. No home health aides. No pharmacists, no drug dealers. Whatever you are, whatever you do. If you own a business, close for a week. No haircuts, no tease and flips. No soul food. (It’s fattening anyway) We don’t need leaders either, so the good Revs can stay home and take the week off too. We don’t even need your job to be done. Hopefully President Obama will come home to the Chi and spend some time in the hood where he’s from. (Hmmm, though under my plan his African Secret Service agents will be home too, well we’ll work on that one)
Now that’s part one. Part two is while you’re off for that week; rediscover your family, your community. Talk to your neighbors; make amends with that guy from down the street that you argued with at the last HOA meeting. Talk about how to make our communities safe without arming everyone to the teeth. Talk with those gangbangers who everyone is afraid to make eye contact with. No spending of our dollars. I mean none. No gas station visits. Stay home or walk, we need to walk more. No Wal-Mart, no Target, Dollar General/City/Family, nothing. Keep your money in your pocket. Drop your cable or satellite plan down to local channels for a week. Change your cell phone plan down to the basic plan for one week. Turn your lights off, go by candlelight if possible. Oh, and no church, no tithing, no mosques, no zakat. If the powers that be see we’re not even going to church they’ll know we’re doubly serious. This society needs to see that this country cannot function without us. We are more than just a subset of society that can be overlooked whenever something happens that we don’t agree with. My plan will cost this economy billions in lost revenue, lost profits and lost productivity. That is exactly my goal. The only thing that America respects is that which has the capacity to cost it money.
Of course they’ll be those of other ethnicities that are married to us, have children by us or share children with us. We are not exclusive, if you want to join, be our guest. Just know that this is not about you, it’s about US. No disrespect, love you to death, appreciate your support but this is a black thang. It’s okay for us to have a thang too. Like St. Patrick’s Day or Cinco de Mayo.
Of course they’ll be those of US who disagree with everything I’ve said and that’s fine as well. Of course, there will be pain. There will be those who lose their jobs, but look at it as the impetus for us to build businesses. Put yourself in the shoes of the employer who fired someone for participating in the blackout. They can't fire us all. Who will want to face the backlash of losing all of the black dollars we spend with their company. We’ll see who is 100% dissatisfied and to whom our treatment is a problem but “just not that deep.”
(Next Post: Going back down south)
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Togetherness
Recently talked with a friend of mine who lamented on the lack of unity among our people. Truth be told, I have to agree with him. I simply have a different take on the situation. Has anyone noticed that out of all of the different groups there are in America, only us as Afrikans have a totally fragmented existence. Northern Afrikans are distinctly different from Southern Afrikans. Eastern Afrikans are different from Western Afrikans. Afrikans that are 40 years old or older have a completely different mindset than those younger.
There are many reasons for this, but I choose to take it all the way back to our slave heritage. Unlike our Caucasian neighbors, we didn't come here in groups. We came here like luggage, with bags of all different types thrown together. We never had the chance to develop distinct cultural identities. Instead, we learned to coexist with each other and pass along this supposed homogeneity to our offspring. Even a casual glance at the continent of Africa will evidence a hodgepodge of different cultures even physical features. We, on the other hand, all look essentially the same. Sure some of us are lighter, some heavier, etc, but for the most part you can tell an Afrikan from here from an African from there fairly easily.
So why the difference? Its because like the old adage, water only rises to its natural level. Some of us are standing in ankle deep water, while some of us are drowning. We try to lead the blind out of darkness but sometimes darkness is comforting. If I stay in the dark, no one can see just how ignorant I really am. If I maintain this job and pay all my bills, then I'm okay, never once giving thought that the purpose of work is to not have to work eventually. We don't think high enough. We are content to let all other groups be at the forefront. We relegate ourselves to being eternal consumers. We place more value on buying the rims than selling the car. Even if we do make a "come up" by whatever means, we spend it rather than invest it. I know that bills have to be paid, what I'm referring to is disposable income. An extra $2000 instantly makes the average one of us think about flatscreen tv's or maybe dvd player for the backseat of the car, even if we don't have children to sit back there and watch it.
I have become convinced that it is my job to raise the bar. It is my job to pull the blinders off those of my people that want to listen. Of those that don't want to listen, I can only hope that the work that we put it will benefit them in the long run. In Islam it is said that only a small group of people can make a change. Let me be the first one.
There are many reasons for this, but I choose to take it all the way back to our slave heritage. Unlike our Caucasian neighbors, we didn't come here in groups. We came here like luggage, with bags of all different types thrown together. We never had the chance to develop distinct cultural identities. Instead, we learned to coexist with each other and pass along this supposed homogeneity to our offspring. Even a casual glance at the continent of Africa will evidence a hodgepodge of different cultures even physical features. We, on the other hand, all look essentially the same. Sure some of us are lighter, some heavier, etc, but for the most part you can tell an Afrikan from here from an African from there fairly easily.
So why the difference? Its because like the old adage, water only rises to its natural level. Some of us are standing in ankle deep water, while some of us are drowning. We try to lead the blind out of darkness but sometimes darkness is comforting. If I stay in the dark, no one can see just how ignorant I really am. If I maintain this job and pay all my bills, then I'm okay, never once giving thought that the purpose of work is to not have to work eventually. We don't think high enough. We are content to let all other groups be at the forefront. We relegate ourselves to being eternal consumers. We place more value on buying the rims than selling the car. Even if we do make a "come up" by whatever means, we spend it rather than invest it. I know that bills have to be paid, what I'm referring to is disposable income. An extra $2000 instantly makes the average one of us think about flatscreen tv's or maybe dvd player for the backseat of the car, even if we don't have children to sit back there and watch it.
I have become convinced that it is my job to raise the bar. It is my job to pull the blinders off those of my people that want to listen. Of those that don't want to listen, I can only hope that the work that we put it will benefit them in the long run. In Islam it is said that only a small group of people can make a change. Let me be the first one.
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