Should there be a term to distinguish Blacks who are hard working, responsible, law abiding citizens from the errant, delinquent, dependent Blacks? I suggest this for as of right now, people still associate Black with poverty and our statesman have no idea what to call the Black working, middle class and above.
Gingrich made a speech earlier this year stating that a disproportionate percentage of the Black community couldn’t be bothered to wake up for work at a decent hour. He also mentioned that the school aged children of this demographic should serve as janitors in their own schools. I do not find the character building task of an after school job offensive. However, I am certain the suggestion of janitor has dredged up the era of Jim Crow oral history flashbacks where being a janitor was the one of the few jobs a Black person was relegated to holding. Would it have been such a stretch for this skilled speaker to say: After school job? Surely, he would’ve won more support if he had.
Disproportionate amount. Nigger. Chitlin’ Crowd. There have many derogatory names to describe the Black “underclass” or dependent class. I came up with the last one myself. Gingrich’s tone sparked considerable backlash from many Blacks who have dug themselves out of the ghetto and are now successful people. One young Black man who tells of how his single mother raised he and his sister to be responsible adults, same as my mom with me and my friends by their wage earning single mom’s. Unfortunately, Gingrich neglects to notice such successes in political forums. Don’t our statesmen realize how much they are hurting people? Don’t they know how easy it is to fall into despair from the harsh rhetoric which discourages the diamonds in the rough in the inner-city who are striving not to become statistics who are only 3 punches away from their 400 blows from giving up and sinking into a robbing, thieving drug pushing state of Hell? People do drugs to lift their spirits. It takes a considerable amount of meth and cocaine to stay upbeat when you hate your life and the wing-nut politicians aren’t helping. Drug use not just a urban or rural habit either. Most drug users I’ve encountered have been wealthy White housewives to who feel that their lives are pointless past 40 years of age. Still, if you’re strong enough, you can use your haters to fuel you ambitions just to prove them wrong. That’s what my hero, W.E.B. Du Bois would’ve done.
So what should we call ourselves? I would love it if we could keep the name Black and let the dependent class call themselves something else, but the world that is stuck in perception of the Black monolith won’t see it that way. Besides, thugs already fiercely claimed the title and accuse all Blacks who embrace education of “acting White”. We’re not acting anything, we’re merely following the traditional path to leading an independent adult life. The practice of calling and educated Black person White has gotten so out of hand, that a number of us, including myself when I was young and stupid, claim “other” on our college applications. That also may have contributed to the lopsided statistic of Black achievement. Black Shame is real and rampant. The average Craig’s List Rant and Raver observes that 90% of Blacks are destitute criminals. I beg to differ. Growing up in Oakland, I rarely encountered that criminal demographic, but that was 20 years ago. Furthermore, it is possible that I live in a working class bubble.
For Blacks like me who live in that bubble, life is a trial of working twice as hard to prove yourself equal. Compensating for the crimes of all too visible Blacks underclass who always seem to be around to perform sloth and crimes before the media cameras while the admirable citizens of Black neighborhoods are away at work. Why do the reprobates get to wear the banner of Black? I am no longer an impressionable teen filling out a college application. I am past my Saturn Return now with a masters and I insist on reclaiming my heritage! I would really like to know what the Asian community did to suppress their dependent class? Blacks marched and suffered hoses, angry dogs and and assassinations of our leaders for civil rights and every other minority took advantage and reaped the benefits. Only an insignificant percentage like myself bothered to embrace PBS’ diversity programming and use it to advance in school and in life. Face it, there aren’t enough Black geeks. Everyone knows geeks are rich in the light of being social pariahs. However, few seem to appreciate the adult geek in the Black World. We are called “oreos”, Black on the outside, White on the inside. Like all nerds, we are isolated and bullied in high school, but we suffer a different kind of bullying. Instead of banishment to our Dungeons and Dragons enclave, we are coerced into being the cool kids, in the vein of either you are with us or against us. To have an different world view is treason and punishable, by injury and sometimes death. I’m not exaggerating. Every attempt is made to rip us from our sanctuaries and into the streets. White cool kids wise-up and go to Harvard. Black “cool kids” are on a road to no where in an aimless adolescence that lasts for 30 years or more mired in its fantasies of riches by chance.
How can Blacks leave their blighted behind in the Ozark’s? How do we sweep them under a rug in some remote village in Asia? African-Americans, which African immigrants want no association with, have to live with our miscreants right in our faces. NIMBY is not an option. There’s no hiding them. Liberals of all colors and the government have done all they could. It’s our responsibility to correct this problem from within and take all of the insults and accusations of being inwardly racist, megalomaniacs, eugenists and reduce the mentality if victimization and dependency. The Blacks of W.E.B. Du Bois need to be brave and brave the abuse. Surely, we’re going to look into the mirror and not like what we see on many unnerving occasions, but it has to be done. It’s time Blacks faced their bad karma, the karma started centuries ago when West African kings choose to sell their undesirable subjects instead of reforming them. Every culture went through this. The Irish rose when Irish women married Germans and men of other nationalities when the husbands of their impoverished Irish mother’s refuse to bring home their paychecks in favor of the pubs. Asian families pool their monies to support (read: obscure) the low performers of their families. What should Blacks do? We’re desperate and I am especially sick of apologizing for LA gang members, Oakland welfare queens and militant Harlem Afro-centrists. Help up, PLEASE! Any advice is welcome.
On March 1st, one of the most wonderful men in the world died of cancer. My faerie tale best friend’s father Mr. Von Burkeleo. He was the epitome of the gentle artist so many women dream of having for a husband. The exemplar of a gentle father and all around nice person to have around the house. In contrast to the father’s of myself and so many of my other friend’s who were absentee dead beat dads or live-in monsters.
My best friend and I usually argue about women’s studies issues. This is mainly because our experiences with men are different. My father forced my mother to have me, then refused to pay child support when she left him for neglect. A man is supposed to stay home with the family after his wife gives birth, not go out prowling with his drinking buddies. My dad was the stereotypical absent Black father. My best friend, on the other hand ,had Aslan the Lion for a father. Mr. von Burkeleo_ port of lions.
Gentle, inspiring, kind and active in the lives of his children. Both our parents were divorced, but Mr. Von Burkeleo provided for his children and asked for them on the weekends. I don’t think my best would ever have heard: “You’re mother has made a White girl out of you and therefore, you are not entitled to your inheritance”, from her father. My mother once said, All your father had to do was send for you in the summer”. Which he didn’t. Now that I think of it, if my father had fulfilled his shared custody duties, I would have turned out the way he wanted: angry, militantly Afro-centric and xenophobic like my former New York roommates. Perhaps the beating over loss of money and cramping my mother’s style as a tween was my payment for my cultural freedom. I may not have $650,000, but my mind is free to explore and be friends with who I wish.
My faerie friend’s father was a positive influence on the whole family including the children who appended his own in the later marriage. The brothers are valiant have archetrypical dispositions straight out of European novels. There’s a leader, an intellectual and another artist and none of them are the type to knock up a woman and leave her. In fact, I have heard tell that they assisted in the defense of an insulted woman’s honor. Can you be more C.S. Lewis, Dumas, or Dickensian than these three? Oh, yeah, you could say Rowling. They fit every mold of the valiant and charming family of brothers who are very protective of their single sister.
No wonder my faerie friend can not relate to a single Women’s Studies peril. What she has suffered, she still finds hope within it. The Faerie Sister is the type of woman who thrives in patriarchy, while the women like myself bristle under it. No one has dangled a inheritance over her head and said: “change your personality or I will give you nothing”. And certainly, she has not had service her step father in place of her mother like so many adolescent girls in the inner-city and I am sure rural community have to do so in order to get rent paid. Men don’t provide without sex. However, sex for provisions was never presented to her. The Faerie was protected by her Aslan. Patriarchy at its ideal. What a lovely gilded bubble.
I shall try to remember the regal Aslan father of my faerie sister of a best friend more often. Having a man as your economic center can be comfortable if you are truly loved. My father and step father were the ugly side of the rule. They were the dark forces who looked into the lion’s face on judgement day and loathed what they saw; their sins driving the will of the women they’ve insulted to vie for economic independence of 500 pounds a year and a room of her own to create without disturbance. It takes all kinds to make a world, I am in no way endorsing an everlasting patriarchy, but I defend it in it’s noble essence against the corrupting forces that have warped the ideal for their self serving purposes. May they blow away in a dark shadow and be heard of no more at the end of days should they come. I only hope I will have healed enough to purge my burning resentment so I will not be among them.
Thank you for existing, Mr. Von Burkeleo. St. Bonaventure now has the most delightful new companion.