Between Martin, Malcolm, and Modern

Oftentimes I find myself pondering who I would have faithfully followed during the turbulent Civil Rights Era.  Would I have been a loyal supporter of Dr. King’s nonviolent resistance?    Or would I have sided with brother Malcolm X in his militant approach to Black Nationalism?

I’ve never been much of a fighter or instigator, yet I cannot imagine sitting idle while racist policemen clubbed my dome, flushed me with fire hoses, and set angry German Shepherds on my tail.  In this regard, I may have clung to Malcolm’s intimidating messages that struck fear in the hearts of the ruling majority.  Still I’m conflicted when considering the religions of these Civil Rights heroes.  Being a lifelong Christian, would I have felt obligated to stand behind the good Reverend Doctor?  Or would I have converted to the mainstream, color-blind, Islam Malcolm discovered shortly before he was assassinated?  Looking at my Arabic solar plexus tattoo in the mirror, I cannot be certain.  Furthermore, as a college educated Black man, would I have been more inclined to listen to King, an Alpha Phi Alpha man like myself, or X who self educated himself in prison?  My inclinations say MLK when considering this aspect, although I have a great appreciation for unconventional learning.  Then, when I consider my New York upbringing, might I have adulated “Harlem’s Lion”, or would I have revered the preacher from the South where I’ve resided for the past decade?  These are just a slither of the questions that come to mind when I analyze the lives of Dr. King and Malcolm X.

In any regard, the only relevant question to ask today is how do we take what we learned from Malcolm and Martin, enhance their agendas, and make their messages applicable in modern society?  Well the first thing that comes to mind is political strength.  With the endorsement of Martin Luther King Jr., President John F. Kennedy was able to garner the votes he needed to gain a narrow victory in the 1960 election.  Malcolm X, while distrustful of the political “foxes and wolves” that comprise the Democratic and Republican parties, also referenced in his autobiography the power that 22 million voting African Americans possessed.  He felt that if Black Americans all voted and lobbied as a cohesive unit in the same vein as farmers, union workers, etc  then we would possess the strength to sway the political process in our favor.  One of my favorite Malcolm X quotes is “we, the Black masses, don’t want these leaders who seek our support coming to us representing a certain political party. They must come to us today as Black Leaders representing the welfare of Black people.”

Us Negroes did a great job of turning out to vote for Barack Obama in November of 2008… No secret there.  But imagine if we formed a coalition of voters that specifically lobbied for issues pertaining to the Black agenda; we would truly be able to sway the political pendulum in our favor.  We outnumber the tobacco enthusiasts, the gun rights fanatics, the healthcare conspirators. Our combined spending power (projected to top 1.1 Trillion Dollars by 2012) also greatly surpasses those of all special interest groups.  There is no reason that Black people should not have the most respected and influential voting block in American politics.  We must come together, identify the top priority issues we would like to see addressed in our community, and fight like hell for the Federal Government to bend to our demands.  The Black Lobby – that is how we can make Martin and Malcolm’s work relevant in the modern era.

Haiti and Apocalyptic Politics

Yesterday I prayed feverishly for my friends, as they sought confirmation that their family members survived the massive 7.0 earthquake that leveled Haiti.  My only frame of reference for their hearts’ panic was the day the Twin Towers fell; a day in which my mother watched them crumble out of her 30th Floor window in Midtown, while frantically asking me what to expect next over the phone.  I’ll never forget sitting in my Vanderbilt dorm room, watching that declaration of war, and not knowing whether my mother would make it home to the Bronx.  Truly an unsettling experience.  So my heart goes out to those still waiting to hear from their kin, disconnected by fallen phone towers and cataclysmic chaos.

Watching the current rally calls and pledges of aid to Haiti as a result of this unfathomable natural disaster, I can’t help but to feel proud that citizens across the world feel compassion for our wounded brothers and sisters.  This makes me smile, only not too bright.

Truthfully, I feel a great sense of disappointment in the fact that it has taken this large scale catastrophe to force the United States and others to donate millions in aid and support to the people of Haiti.  Had we cared about Haiti’s humanitarian disaster that predated January 12th’s earthquake, hundreds of thousands of lives may have been spared.  As the Western Hemisphere’s poorest country lingered in our backyard, we turned a cold shoulder to the 3rd World penury that stared us  in the face just 90 minutes away from Miami.  Before the Richter scale even tipped yesterday, Haiti had been operating as a post-apocalyptic society for well over 5 centuries.  Our fellow Negroes have lived in abject poverty with crumbling physical and political infrastructure ever since I can remember.  Yet no one (outside of a few philanthropic groups) lifted a finger to assist the Haitians with getting on their feet.  Why has there not been around the clock news coverage of the despair in Haiti until now?

Somehow I believe there would have been a different story in Haiti if there was an abundance of Texas Tea found in and around the country.  But that’s neither here nor there when considering that Black America has never been substantially active in supporting our people across the Caribbean Sea.  We’ve flown over the country to party it up in the Virgin Islands and Trinidad & Tobago, yet we’ve never rallied to contribute to the financial uplift of our brethren in Haiti.  (I must note that many of us have visited Haiti’s neighbor Jamaica, but have still however ignored the true plight of  our people there as well).

As the World mobilizes to assist Haiti, it is my sincere hope that we learn to be proactive in averting crises of this scale.  If Katrina destroying New Orleans, the Tsunami destroying southern coastal Asia, and this earthquake leveling Haiti teaches us anything, it is to NOT neglect the poor until natural disasters strike.  We must not take the pompous attitude of imbeciles like Pat Robertson when considering the misfortunes of our fellow human beings.  So let’s go forth and assist Haiti any way we can TODAY, and let’s not forget to continue pouring out love and assistance constantly across the globe to make Earth a better place throughout the year, inch by inch.  Ready? Break.

Finding Progression in Assimilation Nation

Growing up in the United States, it is impossible to escape the implicit and explicit tenets of White Supremacy that embed themselves in the subconscious of every American. While the engine of this domineering machine is not as robust as it was in its heyday of slavery, Reconstruction, and Jim Crow, it now drives on autopilot through the daily thoughts and interactions of all citizens. Many Black people subtly conform to White Supremacist doctrines, and even frown upon those Negroes that make the conscious decision not to support its continuation. Though well-intentioned, these folks confuse Black progression with assimilation into “mainstream” society; as a race we need to understand the difference in order to advance.

It breaks my heart when I hear educated Sisters and Brothers argue for the eradication of certain cultural practices simply because they feel it makes the Black race look bad to other races (more specifically White folks). In a constant effort to impress our Caucasian counterparts, the Black bourgeois have named any action that could be perceived as inferior to traditional White way of life, cancerous to Black society. Black people who think with this type of mind have succumbed to White Supremacy, as it is painfully apparent that they’ve adopted a “What would White man do?” mentality.  For instance, the main criticism I heard when I stood up to support Brother Tyler Perry’s work was that it portrays an image, we as Black people, should suppress and hide from White people.  Eh you know, God forbid some Anglos come across a Tyler Perry movie and shake their heads in disapproval or perhaps laugh at Madea.  Us Negroes need to impress these White folks with dry wit and conventional humor if we ever plan to be on their level some day, right?  Riiight.

It is impossible to progress beyond White Supremacy if we employ it’s very tactics to police our own race.  Uproar from supposed members of the Black intelligentsia upon the theatrical release of Precious was asinine.  There were Negroes concerned that telling the unfortunate story of an obese Black woman would give “others” the image that all African Americans fit the overweight, welfare stereotype many ignorant citizens cite to belittle Black achievement.  Look people… you know damn well there are those among us who battle obesity and several other socio-economic constraints of perpetual poverty.  Trying to sweep our fellow people under the rug to make our house look all tidy when “others” visit will not eliminate the problems we face as a race.

Progression in Black America will only occur when we begin to impress ourselves and push our brethren to be more powerful, prudent, and prideful.  The question should not be “how does this look to White people,” but instead “how does this look to our people?”  Only when Black art or media systematically fails to empower, enlighten, and entertain its own constituents has a disservice been performed.  So Brothers and Sisters, I urge you to consider the subconscious effects that thousands of years of White Supremacy have implanted in your psyche before you revere or reject ethnic communications.  Do it for Hip Hop.  Do it for Your People.  Do it for YOU.  Peace!

Slamming Sammy Sellout Teaches Us A Lesson

After I saw the recent photos of MLB legend Sammy Sosa sporting his new anti-tan, I declined to rush to conclusions.  I just knew it was a crappy photoshop hoax, you know, some kind of an internet prank.  As a couple more days passed and Sammy admitted he was indeed the pasty creature in the pictures, I remained in denial.  They were obviously remnants of Sosa’s Halloween evening dressed as Count Chocula I rationed.  Then I turned my Dell Plasma to Univision, a channel I frequent to ogle the amazingly hot female reporters English speaking American channels could never get away with exploiting brush up on my Spanish.  To my utter disbelief I watched a grown up Eddie Munster, purported to be the Dominican home run king, give an interview bragging about his new skin “rejuvenation” cream.  Left with no other conclusion besides “this Negro done lost his natural Black mind,” I proceeded to torch my Sosa Topps rookie card.

As the card disintegrated under the flame, I reflected on what could make my formerly Jheri curled brethren cave in to white supremacist ideology.  Was Sammy dealing with post-traumatic stress stemming from Michael Jackson’s death?  Was he attempting to revive the spirit of MJ through self replication of his vitiligo?  Maybe his wife’s light characteristics just started to rub off on him; you know, the longer people stay married the more they start to look the same (just look at Billary Clinton).  Nah, for the second time in his life Sammy Sosa simply sold out to the Cream.  He let everyone down when it was revealed that he cheated by consuming those magical home-run enhancers, and now he has destroyed any confidence that his remaining fans had in his integrity by whitewashing his pigmentation.

The perpetual optimist, I am ever so grateful to Sammy Sosa Sellout for giving me a platform to discuss the overarching problems that are indicative of his predicament.  First, as a man of mixed Negro and Latino heritage I must address the problem of race misidentifcation in the Black and Hispanic community.  I can recall days where I kicked it with my Puerto Rican and Dominican homies and comments about “morenos” were hurled around.  Most of the time their skin was as dark, if not darker than mine, yet there was a clear distinction made between Blacks that spoke English and Blacks that spoke Spanish.  It was clear to me that in their minds the Spanish language created a physiological distinction between them and English speaking Black people.  It mattered not that they congenitally inherited just as much African blood as the next Negro; Spanish meant you were phenotypically different from English speaking Blacks.

This division, based predominately on language differences, has always disturbed me.  Growing up with my Dad’s side being African-American and my Mom’s side being dark, Spanglish-speaking, Panamanians, I never considered myself anything other than Black.  I hate when I have to fill out a form and I am forced to make a decision between shading in the “Black” bubble or the “Hispanic” bubble.   It’s as if I’m being told it’s impossible to be both; or better yet, Blacks who natively speak Spanish are Hispanic, while Blacks who speak English, French, German, or any other language are a different race altogether.  That’s absurd… and this is why Sammy’s overt attempt to make a clear distinction between himself as a Black man and himself as a Latin man is a wake up call – Blacktinos we must unite!

As Sammy Sosa has suddenly burst onto the scene as the real life Clayton Bigsby, I must also address the issue of self -hatred in the Black community.  Females always ask me what type of women I find attractive.  When I simply respond “sexy women” they tend not to believe me.  After all, every guy has a certain “type” of women they explain.  9 times out of 10 they’re referring to skin color and body type.  “Do you date dark skinned girls, or light skinned girls only?” they ask.  Once again I assure them that I date sexy women. Period.

Years of being a sought after Black man (don’t hate!) has led me to understand why Sisters feel the need to ask this question.  I recall conversations at Vanderbilt University with my boys.  Sitting around talking ish about chicks, I can vividly remember a couple of buddies confessing that they exclusively devote their attention to light-skinned females.  Strangely, these were some of the darkest brothers I ever met.  I could never grasp how they couldn’t find women of their own skin color attractive.  Not only were they Black-than-a-mofo, their mothers were dark as well.  “Do they despise their mothers?” I pondered.  Better yet, “do they despise themselves?”  Clearly, white supremacy has permeated the minds of Black men to the point where  many do not find mates of their own skin color to be worthy companions.  In their eyes light is right.

Unfortunately, many Black women are guilty of the same sin.  I realized this as I watched Precious (Monique deserves an Oscar BTW) last weekend.  There’s a scene where the lead character looks into the mirror and sees a thin, blond-haired, White woman in the reflection, instead of a heavy-set Black woman.  Also, the main character frequently fantasizes about her desire to find a light-skinned man with “good hair” to settle with.  It is due to this mentality that situations like Sammy Sosa’s are more common than you might think.  Skin bleaching products are a big hit in the Caribbean right now.  Don’t believe me, check this out:

At the end of the day I am thankful for Sammy selling out so publicly.  The conversations this fool has sparked will hopefully bring attention to the issues of Black/Hispanic race identity, self-hate, and the global skin bleaching epidemic.  Whether you agree with my analysis of this situation or not, I hope you will heed the moral of this story: be comfortable with the skin you’re in.

Tyler Perry: Cunning or Cooning?

Nobody in Hollywood can hold a candle to Tyler Perry’s meteoric rise to stardom in the last decade.  From niche market gospel plays to Black blockbuster bravado, Perry is the American Dream realized -- a rags to riches phenomenon.  Despite Tyler Perry’s cinematic and syndicated success, anchored in applying Christian family values to modern day strife, there are those who choose to label the brother a sell-out.  In defense of America’s first Black movie mogul, these haters are nothing more than ornery crabs in a barrel.

Critics of Tyler Perry’s work tend to cite his caricature of Madea, a fiesty, pistol packing granny, as the fundamental flaw in his representation of the Black race.  They feel that if it weren’t for Perry cross dressing and posing as the boisterous, belligerent, “buffoon” we love to laugh at, he would be irrelevant.  Most recently, Spike Lee, a brother I admire, threw a pity party and chose to throw Tyler Perry under the bus.  Lee, not understanding why many of his movies have flopped by box office standards, inappropriately lashed out against Perry for stealing his shine.  Peep the clip here:

Sorry Spike, but that was a hater move homie.  Fundamentally you are complaining that the audience which appreciates your intellectually stimulating, artistic gems, is quantitatively limited, therefore relegating your films to irrelevance and elevating Brother Perry’s films to prominence.  Nothing could be farther from the truth Spike.  Yes, it is difficult to gain the attention span of a generation breast fed ignorance by BET, commercialized Hip Hop, and mentally contaminated media… Trust me, if anyone knows this it’s me.  But Spike, Tyler Perry supplies solutions to these problems, not provocations.

While I cannot say that I have thoroughly enjoyed every TP film, musical, or television episode I have watched, (some have been a little corny), I will admit that I see the light in all the endeavors Tyler Perry produces.  Never have I witnessed Perry using his theatrical vehicle to encourage ignorance, promote Black destruction, or attract mockery.  Perhaps it is because I, like many other Black Americans, grew up with someone strikingly familiar to Perry’s Madea.  Inside my brain I shriek when critics label this character too “over the top.”  If you think Madea is over the top, I challenge you to come to Harlem with me and meet my great-aunt A.P.  Step to her wrong and A.P. will curse you out worse than NWA in ‘91… piss her off and I hope you wore a teflon diaper cause she’ll bust a cap in your @ss for sure!  So for the critics that claim characters like Madea are too unrealistic, over the top, and don’t really exist in the Black community, I advise you to get off your bougie high horse and politic with your folk in the hood.

Anyone who cannot see the brilliance that Tyler Perry exudes is pointing a misguided finger.  If you just can’t resist pointing out the coons that are truly responsible for the dumbing down of Black youth, let me help you out -- PLIES.  Yes, this 5 foot, gold-mouthed, midget single handedly destroys more Black brain cells than malt liquor, pork fried rice, and slavery combined.  Consciously concealing the fact that he attended college, Plies tries his best to be the innovator of ignorance.  Instead of promoting the proper grammar and sentence structure he accidentally reverts to in radio interviews and chance meetings, Plies sells albums to your kids telling them to be his “bust it babies” and assuring them that he is “real.”  Jamie Foxx recently called this so called “goon” out, mentioning how he cowered like a bust it baby fresh out of Newports when some real gangsters showed up to his video shoot.

Anyway, back to the debate on Tyler Perry.  Before you cast judgment on this brother I challenge you to watch Diary of a Mad Black Woman (no Bruno).  I also challenge you to investigate his opening of the first fully independent Black production studio, a studio that puts great Black talent to work amidst a Hollywood that overwhelmingly shuts us out.  If you’re still not satisfied after that then kick rocks… Tyler Perry is good for Black America.

What The Murder of Derrion Albert Says About America

You’ve seen it by now.  The whole world has seen the carnage that ensued amidst the brawl that resulted in Derrion Albert losing his life.  Shock, astonishment, and tearful resentment filled your psyche as you watched Black youth try their best to destroy each other on a Chicago street corner.  Some of you implicate the parents, while others blame the lack of police intervention.  Many of you disgustedly threw your arms in the air and simply muttered “ni**az” out of frustration.  Regardless of the reaction, few people can point to the true root of the Hip Hop Generation’s destructive mentality, and even fewer have a solution to resolve the issue at hand.  Grounded in both street knowledge and formal education, I will tackle both conflicts head on.

Coincidentally, I had just finished re-reading Cornel West’s poignant best seller Race Matters when I was alerted to Brother Albert’s untimely demise.  West, who I’ve had the privilege to meet on 2 separate occasions, aptly describes the dark mentality that has infected our youth as Black nihilism.  According to Dr. West:

The proper starting point for the crucial debate about the prospects for black America is an examination of the nihilism that increasingly pervades black communities. Nihilism is to be understood here not as a philosophic doctrine that there are no rational grounds for legitimate standards or authority; it is, far more, the lived experience of coping with a life of horrifying meaninglessness, hopelessness, and (most important) lovelessness. The frightening result is a numbing detachment from others and a self-destructive disposition toward the world. Life without meaning, hope, and love breeds a coldhearted, mean-spirited outlook that destroys both the individual and others.

Clearly Black nihilism, as defined by Cornel West is what you witnessed in the footage capturing Derrion Albert’s murder.  No other concept can better explain an honor roll student being violently beaten to death by two Black rival gangs.

So now that the true issue has been identified, we must not only address how we arrived at this destination, but more importantly how we progress beyond this roadblock.  Let’s start with America overall.  We live in a society completely enamored with violence.  Boxing is the sport of yesteryear… we need the blood and gore of Ultimate Fighting to keep us entertained.  Furthermore, nobody loves guns as much as we do.  Estimates put the number of guns in this country at 250 million.  In fact, instead of our law making officials searching for a solution to combat the murder rate in the city where Derrion Albert met his demise, the Supreme Court was busy hearing a 2nd Amendment case arguing that citizens of Chicago need easier access to guns!  On the heels of people bringing machine guns to Obama rallies and the Virginia Tech massacre still lingering in our subconscious, there is still a contingent of people that believe we don’t have enough guns in this country.  What kind of message does that send to our children and subsequent generations of Americans?  We are perpetuating a cycle of violent behavior.

Narrowing the scope of the issues that led to Derrion’s death, I would be remiss not to mention the lack of positive Black role models, leaders, mentors, and parents that exist in the Black community.  Who do you think the thugs captured on video cite as their major influences in life?  I can assure you it’s not Cornell West.  It’s obviously not their hometown hero Barack either.  The choices can only be A) Older thugs, B) No one at all, or C) Jackasses like THIS that tell them “f**k school, come and [gang]bang with us.”

Watching the Derrion Albert beating, I could not help but to recall my public school days in the Bronx where I had to hide my flawless report card from the menacing degenerates that employed the “f**k school” mentality.  Being a straight A scholar was considered being a nerd, a no-no, an enemy to Black street life.  Essentially, I would have been the target of unwarranted beatdowns had anyone discovered my true love of intellectualism.  This is the mentality that must shift if there is to be any hope for the future of Black America.  We have to teach Black youth that Smart Is The New Gangsta.  The sooner Black people embrace this concept, the sooner we will see a turn for the best in our community.  To get there we will need strong mentorship programs, Black male retreats, and more positive images of Blacks in the media.  Tragedies like Derrion Albert’s death can be avoided if we turn the anger and despair we felt from watching his broadcasted murder into action.  Go out and find a mentee today.  Schedule some time to hang out with your little bad a** cousins, nieces, and nephews.  Stop supporting entertainment that condones Black on Black violence as a way of life.  As we pray that Brother Derrion Albert rests in peace, do not allow his senseless murder to sow the seeds of apathy in your life.

Constructing The Blueprint for Black Male Success

Prior to September 12th 2009, had someone  told me the blueprint for Black male success would arise from the state of Iowa I would have labeled them mentally deficient.  Invited to share my expertise on the topic “The New Grinding: Expanding Your Consciousness as Your Life’s Work,” I was nonetheless excited to impart the merits of entrepreneurship to a group that seldom receives this message.  It mattered not that this Fall retreat, titled “What’s Stopping Us Now?”, was being hosted for an assemblage of less than 50 students.  I was eager to participate in The Hubbard Group’s revolutionary approach to fostering a sense of Black collegiate community.

Before I delve into the specifics of the symposium, I find it fitting to give a little background info on how I came to participate.  Exactly ten years ago, I had the privilege of dwelling in The Taft School’s boisterous upper classmen dormitory a few doors down from Michael and Lena Hill.  The newlyweds arrived at the posh boarding school just in time for my senior and most formative year of high school.  Having determined that I would go on to become a virologist later in life, I caught  bi-weekly rides to Yale’s AIDS Institute with Mrs. Hill, who was completing her PhD there.  During those 45 minute drives, I enjoyed our politically engaged discussions just as much as I cherished the frequent hip hop convos I had with her husband.  At the conclusion of every discourse with the Hill’s, I couldn’t help but to feel the urge to read more books to keep up with the intellectual prowess of  this brilliant couple.  A full decade later, arrogantly convinced that I fit the criteria for being considered one of the greatest minds of the 21st Century, I jumped at the opportunity to join Dr. Michael Hill in his quest to foster a sense of Black collegiate community at The University of Iowa.  While I set out to impress my mentor by providing valuable incite to an audience of Black male undergraduates, I ended up learning that A)  the framework for Black male success hinges upon old and young minds converging to address issues that linger despite generational differences and B) I still need a pocket dictionary to keep up with the mental horsepower of the Doctors Hill

I felt it necessary to divulge my prior relationship to the Hill’s because they represent the first element in the blueprint for Black male success -- role models.  Not only has observing them made me want to seek enlightenment, improve my vocabulary, and  become more articulate, they have shown me the beauty of equally yoked Black love.  As Black males become more endangered, and Black families are more scarcely found in America,  it is vital that our generation has people like the Hill’s to emulate.

The Fall Retreat for Black Men, hosted by The Hubbard Group, boasted a room full of Black male role models.  From University of Iowa graduate students, alumni, and professors, to Super Bowl winning football coach Carl Jackson, there were several figures from which the undergraduate attendees could glean advice.  Three panel discussions were held.  The first being  “Are we There Yet?  The Black Male and the Search for Collegiate Community,” the aforementioned “The New Grinding: Expanding Your Consciousness as Your Life’s Work,” and finally “What’s With a Mentor?  The Value of Help in a Foreign Land.”  The 6 hour retreat was opened with a powerful speech from Michael Hill and closed with an interactive discussion about unlocking the clutch of White supremacy by Eddie Moore Jr., PhD.

In order to protect the Black race’s most vulnerable component, the Black male, retreats like  The Hubbard Group’s must frequently occur in communities across the United States.  According to the Schott Foundation for Public Education, only 41% of Black men graduate from high school in this country.  Furthermore, National Student Clearinghouse recently published that just 22% of Black males who began at a 4 year college graduated within 6 years.  There are countless other startling statistics I could reference showing the fragile state of Black male vitality in today’s society.   Thus, the sustainability of Black America hinges on isolating the imperiled Black male and making him the specific target of encouragement and mentoring.  This is the blueprint for Black male success.  Please watch and spread the video below:

The Politics of Machine Gun Machismo

AR – 15s were designed for the US military to quickly and accurately strike enemy forces on the battlefield.  This lightweight machine gun’s sole intent is to kill.  Despite these facts, radical 2nd Amendment enthusiasts find it acceptable to suddenly exhibit their gun “rights” in opposition to Obama’s healthcare proposal.  This is very odd considering that healthcare has absolutely nothing to do with the 2nd Amendment.  So what is the deeper message being conveyed by these fanatical pistol pushing partisans?  Upon closer examination of their actions, it is apparent that they are fighting to uphold White supremacy and social inequality.

Veiling their anger over the election of the nation’s first bi-racial President, these conservative Obama opponents have been itching for outlets to truly express their frustration over “losing” the country since last November.  With Rush Limbaugh and Faux News constantly condoning the hate and branding the modern White supremacist movement, the radical Right has emerged more angry and ignorant than ever.  Because they disagree that all Americans deserve  quality health coverage their reaction is to intimidate the President and his supporters with guns?  A rational conservative would concede that Thomas Jefferson declared that Americans “derive rights inherent & inalienable, among which are the preservation of life, & liberty, & the pursuit of happiness.” Yes, the preservation of life is the first and foremost inalienable right promised during America’s founding.  How else can the American government preserve life without universal access to proper healthcare?  Opposition to this right reflects a culture of selfishness bred by people who wish to maintain their social dominance.

Let’s revisit the Bush Administration.  Where were the gun toters concerned with losing their freedom when GWB signed The Patriot Act?   I don’t recall any of these guys greeting President Bush with their preservation of liberty signs and perfectly polished pistols. Could you imagine the speed in which a Negro would have been arrested had he attempted to bring an assault rifle to a Bush rally? Now what if it were a Muslim guy that carried a weapon to a Bush townhall? I can see Faux News running back to back telethons on how anti-American these people must be!  The Muslim guy would be in Guantanamo right now!  Prior to this year, when was the last time morons with firearms were accepted in the vicinity of the World’s most prominent leader?  If you were to bring a machine gun to a sporting event, concert, or even the airport your gun “rights” would cease to exist and you would be arrested.  So why then is it acceptable for civilians to carry weapons in locations visited by President Barack Obama?

The race card is the last card I like to pull out the deck, but let’s be realistic – It’s because he’s (half) BLACK!  The local police forces in Arizona and New Hampshire (where the last 2 incidents have occurred) have chosen to turn a blind eye to the severity of these situations, which is highly unusual.  They have no problem with these radical White men that oppose Obama creating a threatening scenario.  In turn, radical Black men on the other side have now exhibited the same right, increasing tensions. If a shootout transpires are they going to shrug their shoulders and say “Hey, we were just protecting the gun liberties of our citizens?”  By condoning weapon exhibition in the proximity of Obama these people are actively promoting a race war.  Who do they think will emerge triumphant in the end????

If Obama makes any comment about these lunatics he will undoubtedly seem like an opponent of 2nd Amendment rights and other so called “freedoms.”  Therefore, I believe this is a situation where others in Congress need to step in and assert that this behavior is unacceptable.  A bill needs to be passed that restricts public firearm carry to law enforcement officials within 500 yards of the President.  So for now on, no machine guns at NFL games, Britney Spears concerts, LAX, and oh yeah, near the President….

Why Transracial Adoption Is Good For The World

Fly fishing has always piqued my interest, so I was excited this past weekend as I was introduced to a fly fishing instructor -- a Black teenager (yes, Black teenager) from Saratoga, Wyoming.  Highly improbable right? Well let me explain.  For the second consecutive year, I was invited to speak at Colorado’s African/Caribbean Heritage Camp.  Since my attendance at last year’s camp, I had looked forward to the event all year.  Asked to give my thoughts on how to prepare Black adolescents for today’s challenges, I always seem to get more out of this retreat than I could ever contribute.  This annual congregation of adoptive families, with their racially diverse children, has shown me a side of humanity that is rarely witnessed by the general public.

Last year the camp was held in a remote village in the midst of Colorado’s Rockie Mountains.  Doug Tallman and his wife Gretchen found me online via Great Black Speakers.  I was honored to attend and deliver my entrepreneurial message on being the “Master of Your Fate, Captain of Your Soul.”  While I was hoping to have a positive impact on the camp attendees, I had no idea they would in turn change my life significantly.  As I was embraced by White American families for my advice on how to motivate their Black children, the overwhelming sense of love I experienced was amazing.  “This is how the world should look,” I thought.  People disregarding society’s perceived barriers of race in order to devote themselves to improving the lives of those less fortunate.  I listened to the stories of African children adopted from the brink of starvation and murder.  Formerly left to fend for themselves in foster care and orphanages, I also watched African American kids play with Caribbean American kids to endless enjoyment.  Yes, I observed how the eyes of their melaninly challenged parents twinkled as they sought ideas to improve the quality of life for their children.  For the first time I understood what unconditional love was.

This year I asked to hold a greater role in my camp participation.  Not only did I come to Denver prepared with my latest lecture “The Black Scholar’s Responsibility to America,” I also volunteered to sit on two racial slurs panels for  candid race discussions.  Once again I left feeling like I had greatly benefited from my attendance at the camp.  Hearing numerous stories about what White parents with Black children deal with on a consistent basis, my eyes were opened to how prevalent ignorance is in many portions of the United States.  I now see my greater duty in combating these degenerate mentalities.

The issue of transracial adoption has caused a furious debate among Black and White intellectuals.  There are those who oppose the practice  out of  fear that Black children lose their racial identity when raised by White parents.  Others feel that White parents should continue White supremacist ideology by only assisting children of their own race.

Both of these arguments are plain pitiful.   How could any Black scholar advocate that African American children remain in America’s oppressive foster care system until a Black family sees fit to adopt?  There exists no magical line of Negroes waiting patiently to adopt a Black child, so how could anyone oppose these children going to the home of a loving family of a different color?  Many people have pointed at Angelina Jolie and accused her of exploiting the children she adopts from abroad. Umm, what?  I have been to Africa and seen the utter depths of poverty that exist.  If a White American is willing to sacrifice their life to save an African child from a bleak situation, why should anyone be opposed?  What is the alternative solution, let the child suffer because you feel transracial adoption is merely a fad?  What’s most amusing about the opponents of transracial adoption is the fact that these people are 1. not adopting children themselves, and 2. have not been raised in a transracial household.  Therefore, unless they have lived this themselves, they speak from a platform of ignorance.

I have seen the beauty of transracial adoption first hand.  I’m about to learn how to fly fish for goodness sake! I personally know wonderful White parents that are raising gifted Black children with a sense of responsibility for changing America’s racial paradigm.  Of course there are difficulties in doing so; the difficulties lie in navigating the pervasive stubborness of other Americans who choose not to look beyond skin color.  It’s time to grow up America, embrace transracial adoption.  Continuing to oppose this practice will only feed perpetual cycles of inequality and ignorance.  Race is just a pigment of our imagination.

Racism Still Exists in The Obama Age

Last night I decided to take a break from writing a lecture, printing t-shirts, and coordinating superstar rap collabos.  All week long I had confined myself to my home office dungeon, only departing upon the insistence of my dreadfully bored canines.  On the verge of burnout, I knew I needed to take a break.  So when my homeboy REO The Emcee called me to hang out, I was more than ready to take a load off.  The swank bars of Rice Village would be the setting for his co-worker’s birthday celebration.  With REO needing relief from the corporate plantation and me needing some fresh air and a Red Stripe, we decided to join the festivities at The Baker St Pub.  Little did we know that the night would end in frustration, disbelief, and anger over blatant racial discrimination.

The night started off well at Baker St., as I was introduced to REO’s co-workers and their friends.  We all talked and laughed as we tossed back cold pitchers of fermented wheat and Patrón shots.  At our table, there was no conflict between us, as Black, White, Asian, and Indian all kicked it in harmony.  Sitting on the patio in the Texas heat, I struck up a conversation with the Filipino chick to my right.  She said her cousin (the birthday girl) was considering a trip across the street to Bronx Bar, where fresh Hip Hop was being spun all night.  After all, it was her birthday and she wanted to dance.  “The only problem is they don’t like letting Black or Indian guys in there” she admitted.  “Really?  In 2009 they’re still tripping like that?” I asked.  She confessed that she never had first hand experience but that was just the word on the street.  REO chimed in that he had been denied entrance on 2 prior occasions, supposedly due to dress code restrictions.  Since the birthday girl really wanted to dance and Bronx Bar was conveniently 90 feet away, another young lady with a Mariah Carey skin tone went to scout the scene.  When the attractive black/white hybrid returned, she said the bouncer guaranteed us all admittance on the condition that we were all dressed “as well” as she was.

Considering where I grew up, I was curious to see just how “Bronx” the Houston Bronx Bar was.  I could hear the DJ mixing 50 Cent, Busta Rhymes, and Big Pun from across the street.  We walked over and lined up to let the rhoided up bouncer check our IDs.  Directly behind me, REO was the last person in line until he realized he neglected to close out his tab at Baker St.  He quickly ran back across the street to retrieve his credit card.  As the bouncer granted the others acceptance into Bronx Bar, he paused holding my drivers license to confirm that I was indeed with the group.  “Yeah, those are my people,” I explained “We have one more joining us in a few minutes.”   He reluctantly unlatched the velvet divider and let me pass.  I waited for REO at the front of the bar to make sure he didn’t have any issues gaining entrance.  Upon REO’s return, the bouncer asked him to wait at the front of the line.  He waived a group of white males around him and swiftly ushered them into the establishment.  I tapped the bouncer to let him know that REO was with our group and he just mumbled “Hold on, I’m doing my job.”  10 more minutes pass and the bouncer has already allowed several groups of Caucasian revelers to skip my friend in line.  Observing that the Houston police officers next to the bouncer were itching for an excuse to put their hands on a Negro, I grabbed the birthday girl and let her explain to the bouncer that REO was indeed with the group. Once again, the ogre mumbles “Hold on, I’m just doing my job.”  Two more white males show up and he promptly checks their under-21 IDs and lets them in.  That was the last straw.  Bronx Bar was actively administering the 12 percent rule, (coined by my dude Field Negro), by making sure the Black population inside the club did not meet or exceed the current proportion of Blacks to Whites in the United States.  I unhooked the velvet rope and proceeded to my car with an irate REO.

While REO was angry, I could not muster the energy to lash out at the ignorance I witnessed.  Maliciously reacting to the situation would have resolved nothing, and most likely would have resulted in us being tazered, shot, or arrested.  It doesn’t matter if the President is Black or my money is green, White supremacist ideology still lingers in pockets of this country like syphilis.  Just when you start to believe it’s gone, it burns you like a hot comb on a nappy kitchen.  Don’t allow yourself to believe that Barack Obama’s election has eliminated racism.  This is something that every man, woman, and child has to be committed to eradicating.  Therefore, if YOU truly want to end racism you have to start identifying those individuals that continue to spread the germ.  Call them out.  Hit them in their pockets.  Boycott their establishments.  To the owners of The Bronx Bar, we’ll see how you react when the Houston Chronicle and local television run this story.  REO would like to share the inside scoop with the world (filmed directly after the incident):