We are worthy, to progress under our own momentum and stride. Yet, with the culture that we have, as it continues to spiral into nonsense and depravity, we welcome nothing but the same. Our progress is hindered, under a collapse of morality and the elevation of this silly victim mentality that has encapsulated the whole of Black and African-American life. Hidden in plain sight are individuals that only derail our case for legitimate understanding in this country. These are the cowards that will make apologies for our issues as if we are invalid, poor beggars without any agency. Fools that sell us short for fame and applause and pity, whilst we suffer to no end, victims of our own blind rage.
People like DL Hughley will have you believe that we are witnessing a sort of racist uprising of Whites in this country, where their deceptive and covert motives scurry forth in the night like vipers hoping to poison any unsuspecting Black person. Best stay “woke”. But those “woke” individuals are simply sliding into dream states, nodding off as they are taken by another venomous coward: the pro-Black. Make no mistake, there are still racists that exist in every nook and cranny, every crevice, and the covert representation likely undermines the overt. However, does this mean that we turn the advances that we have made into middling sticks and straw and throw them in the fire, to be burned in the fires of revenge we will feel is our due?
We set these fires, languishing on the destruction, hoping that it will be a beacon to resonate with those that share our struggle. We see this everywhere, individuals promoting Blackness through their own forum but they want you to donate some money to their cause. Under this guise they achieve some stardom and prominence as advocates for Blacks but do nothing but talk, less they be found out as the wanton and crass hypocrites they are so pronounced against. The foremost example being Dr. Umar Johnson’s failure to utilize the funds he procured from Blacks to create a school for other disenfranchised Blacks. And the wall of fire continues to consume everything. We are due more than these culture vampires. We’re worthy of more.
The foolish prattling of Tariq Nasheed, a petty individual that loves his Black skin but has the nerve to shame another Black man by making a puppet of him and calling it “Crispy”, which, for most Blacks, is a well-known pejorative for a dark-skinned person. How awful that his hypocrisy highlights the hypocrisy of us all, for he really is a totem for the Black conglomerate in the US. A long-time hustler, misogynist and self-evaluated “player”, Nasheed has made his money at the expense of our own foolishness. Sadly, his accomplishments are worthy of applause since they have allowed some of us to grasp a greater scope of the issue of Blacks in this country.
We are worthy to announce ourselves as great, even though we continue to perpetuate certain stereotypes that bleed into the social framework that is visible for others. We are treated as “retarded children” of the world, as our outbursts and anger and racism towards others goes vehemently unchecked, so much so that a Black female CNN correspondent can laugh and deride an entire racial majority of this country by saying “oh, poor White people”, while everyone looks on, afraid to say anything. It’s as if they are thinking, “Oh, don’t mind her. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. It’s just a mood she’s in. It will pass. Don’t think too poor of her. Look at all she’s had to endure.” This attitude, this muted condescension makes me want to throw up. We should be treated as equals. Ironically, the equality we beg for, we have thrown away in return for the ability to publicly embarrass ourselves and shame others without admonishment.
We cannot bridge the gap between what is good for Blacks and what is good for the country, because we are the raving, kicking screaming children in the room. We don’t want to talk, nor can we, because we’ve become so emotional that any idea or proposed plan comes out as a pitiful tirade aimed at those in power. People such as T.I., noted drug dealer and multiple felon, stoke the fires of dissention even more by telling us all that there is an agenda in the Trump administration, so any Black person going to speak with him should be met with scorn and derision. Wait, we shouldn’t have a seat at the table at all? We don’t deserve to air our grievances to the leader of this nation? Sentiments such as this only hurt our community. Yet, as my pastor has said on many occasions, “Hurting people, hurt people.” Blacks are really suffering and hurting, but I think it is a self-inflicted wound, a sore that has been picked until it has bled again. Since white people put it there in the first place, they get all the backlash, while, if we’d just try to heal, it would likely get better. And the healing begins with us. White people can say they’re sorry all day and give us a band-aid, but ultimately we have to take it and put it on.
Our worth is covered up, locked in chains, boxed up and inside a prison. We have waded through the muck and mire in order to rescue this worth, through pain, blood and sweat in this country. Here, we stand at the door, key in the lock, but we won’t open it for fear of what could be waiting. We don’t want to uncover this worth, which has sat for decades, dusty and immobile. Maybe we are the racial equivalent of Dorian Gray, thriving outwardly, beautiful and wonderful, but afraid to look at our own image, for fear it will destroy us. Maybe in that room, what is bound up is our potential, shining as a mirror, which we must look upon in order to see the truth. And the truth, my dear people, is that we are simply scared to confront the one thing that truly has us running, cowering in fear: ourselves.