I hope!

I work and live in environments where I very rarely see, and even more rarely interact with men who look like me. That environment is a university where it is even rarer that I see African-American males students. I sometimes wonder where we’re headed. I look around and it seems we are en route to extinction.

Who are we? I’m not talking about our wonderful African brothers who, lest we forget, often immigrated here from beautiful places, with horrible circumstances. So there is no disrespect. I have a dear friend from Ethiopia and every time I ask him about his family he says very few words. Words like, very rough, or not good. I see deep pain in his eyes and I hear it in his voice. He is my brother. However, I’m making reference to the slavery- and Jim Crow-enduring, lynch-surviving Brothers. People like me, who were reared with grandparents who were fourth grade-educated Mississippi sharecroppers. Yeah, and I’m only 44 years old. By the way, Mississippi in my case, but name your state, especially a southern one.

Those young men had a profound affect on me today. I nearly wept. And…

I HOPE!

While listening to the radio program, I started thinking of my favorite poem, “If”, by Rudyard Kipling. Later in the show Grothe mentions “If” and how it is one of the two or three most recognized poems in the English-speaking world. I had no idea that many people recognize it. The appeal is obviously quite universal.

I learned “If” by rote when I pledged my fraternity back in 1985. While pledging my frat – Omega Psi Phi, Incorporated – I also learned the poem “Invictus” by William Earnest Henly. Listening to Krasny’s interview of Grothe also reminded me this powerful set of syllables. The words of these poems abide in me. They bathe me in warmth and strength and confidence. They are easily found through a search of the Internets, but I share them here with you, because they are so dear to me. It is the love of family and friends (not a word I use lightly) and these words, these ideals, that have shaped me and guided me during life’s challenging times.
—
If by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on”;

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man my son!

Invictus by William Earnest Henly

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul!
—

Bush’s Response to Katrina:
Brownie – you’re doing a good job!

Enough said.

While I’m excited to participate in these more frequent discussions, I’m very concerned about a certain attitude. I’ll try to not be judgmental or racist in stating this, but I find the attitude is prevalent amongst my white friends. This question of questioning racism bothers me. It seems if racism is questioned, the response is the resounding scream of “race card in play.” This attitude has really come alive with Jimmy Carter’s recent statements to the effect that a lot of the criticism and challenge of President Obama is based on race. Some of my very close white friends are quite upset at what in my opinion is a questioning of racism.

In one conversation a friend says, “once the race card is played, the debate is over.” I say if minorities don’t question racism, we may never seek the equality this nation was founded upon.

Perhaps I’m affected by an African American life. While I’m only 44 years old, I’ve had countless times where I’ve been directly and blatantly told that I couldn’t do something, because I was “Black”. I’m sure there were lots of incidents when I was younger – my mother tells me of shop keepers and store clerks treating us differently. And I’ve seen mother stand tall and not take it, sometimes even “raising sand” to receive fair treatment. However, the first time I really remember the burn of racism was when I as a young California transfer to a Mississippi junior high school. A few weeks into school I’d met a nice girl. After a few days my walking her to class turned into holding hands as we walked to class. I remember the stares and snickers from students and teachers, but that was no big deal. I was the new kid, right. However, it was being called to the principal’s office and being told in no uncertain terms that “black” boys can’t do that with white girls that caused the burn that remains. There was to be more incidents like that in schools, restaurants, and later in my life from co-workers and strangers on the street or in a mall. That’s the blatant stuff.

I also have a personal example that is more along the lines of the questionable racism. For much of 20 years I’ve lived with or been married to my wife, who is white. Because of our careers – she’s a nurse – we’ve often had different work schedules. Because she often works nights, she has the daytime for performing apartment or house searches. In 1990, not 1960) in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, my wife found a great townhouse apartment. In fact she liked it so much, I said get the lease let’s sign and get on with it. All this happened without my meeting the landlord. You see, he’d assumed I was white.

After moving in we noticed I was the only African American in the complex. We also noticed there were other apartments for rent. One day we came home to a flooded carpet. There was a large wet spot with water seeping through the wall of the vacant, next door apartment. We complained to the landlord, but after several weeks of mold, mildew and non-action we were told that nothing could be done. When we asked for one of the vacant apartments we were told there were none. However, the landlord did state he had a house outside of town and unfortunately it cost a lot more to rent. We found another apartment. But the question burned. Was this because I was African American? Should I file a suit? How could I know for sure? Surely he wouldn’t admit it if asked in court. And the question burned.

So, Kim and I enlisted a friend – an attractive young, white, strong southern-accented female to inquire about apartment availability at our old complex. While we listened to the call from our end the landlord confirmed that there were available apartments. But we went one step further. Our friend, in a hushed voice asked the landlord “you don’t allow any niggers to live there do you?” And the landlord said “no, ma’am, I sure don’t.

I understand this is one incident. But if I didn’t question the racism, it could not have been confirmed. I believe this is most often the case. We African Americans feel it, see it, taste it, and yes sometimes event accuse it. Perhaps the accusations are inappropriate in cases where the proof is not evident. But the questioning of racism? If we cannot question it, because it makes some uncomfortable or there is the fear of being called a “race card” player, how will we ever break through the barriers? Please don’t be offended if we question it. A question is not an accusation. I implore you to at least make an attempt to understand the questioner’s perspective. If nothing else, perhaps that might lead to more understanding. Not necessarily resolutions, but greater understanding. And my faith in humankind says understanding will lead most, but not all, to better conclusions about each other and ourselves.

With real-time communications the old, oft-used tactic of controlling the press is rapidly losing power. I think this is because the citizenry is becoming the press – the eyes and ears or checks and balance system for governments. Look at what’s happening with twitter, YouTube, Facebook, etc. Traditional media is quickly finding the need to rapidly respond to this phenomenon. Perhaps you’ve heard about the uproar CNN received when it continued showing repeats of standard news items instead of going live with the protests in Iran. On Twitter a hashtag was created to center focus on CNN’s apparent failure (see #cnnfail). I suspect this kind of pressure will only increase in the future.

Simon Flemming-Wood, a vice president at Pure Digital Technologies, maker of the Flip, hinted at a possible future ability of average humans [through easy to use, relatively inexpensive video/web technology] to broadcast live video to the web from a portable device – perhaps the Flip – on a Press:Here TV Episode.

It’s gonna get good.

Peace be unto You!

P.S. Did you know you can track twitter trends through hash tags?

A few years ago I spent some of my spare time helping Professor Delmer Brown learn more about the web. He was working on something called the Japanese Historical Text Initiative (JHTI) and I’m proud to say I worked on some of the early development for what was to become the site you see here. As a result of Delmer’s new found interest in the web and blogging and, of course, because of the War in Iraq, he also asked me to help him get some “urgent and very important” ideas online. At the time, much of focus was on the Bush administration. However, the focus broadened to Speaker Pelosi and others as they came into office.

The site was always a work-in-progress, but I’m happy to see most of it still up. Check our some of the concepts there. I think they really apply to our world situation. Start on the About This Site page, and then click on the links at the top.

Maybe all this thinking is just part of my aging process.

Close friends say I should tell my story. What diverse experiences I’ve had? Hmmm, should I go autobiographical or fiction loosly-based?

I should start with research and with some daily journal writing. This blog might be nice for some things. However, not everything is for immediate or ongoing public consuption. As with all things web – descretion!

I think I’ll need a process, something I can ritualize.

The grandfathers I knew.

Cornelius Porter

Jerome Vinson