Saturday, December 5, 2015

"I Fit The Description"

http://artandeverythingafter.com/i-fit-the-description/

This was posted by friend of a friend. Sometimes reading the personal experience of a black man in America hits the heart and brain. Everyone should read this and I hope every heart and brain are struck with a pain. My heart is broken.

I'm not a man nor a black one. I will never experience walking down the street in my own country and have police stop me based on my white skin. I will never "fit the description" based soley on my skin color (much less a homemade knit hat).

I was born right smack in the middle of the civil rights era. Civil Unrest. Chicago in the 60's defines civil unrest.
My mother and step dad and their activist friend's fought the good fight on many fronts. The Vietnam War, workers rights, mostly Civil Rights. The black man's issues were at the forefront. Hand in hand were corrupt politicians and corrupt police. Chicago has ALWAYS had corruption when it comes to these two entities; especially in regard to social injustice toward the black man from these very entities. My family was in the thick of this fight.

Some of their friends were Black Panthers. Some were hippies. Most were political activists and Organizers.
I remember the gatherings, always clad with good food, good drink, great music, (often good weed) and lively discussions. I remember the marches and rallies.
I remember the righteous anger most in the grown ups around me. I admired and loved the diverse racial group that exposed me to politics and fighting for social justice.
Fighting for things that were bigger than themselves. They helped shape who I am today and I am so proud of them.

I grew up where the fist salute, Power to the People, was more than just familiar to me; it was symbolic of grave injustice.  Injustice was the word of the day. IT was the fight to be fought.
Looking back I always felt incredibly proud that my upbringing was alongside of a movement that was on the right side of history.
As I came of age I believed I truly "felt" the progress our country had made around me. All that Civil Rights unrest "stuff" was in the past. We as a country had moved forward. Affirmative Action was in place and we were seeing the benefits.  More black kids were being educated. The Voting Rights Act was in place and from my naive perspective a whole generation of African Americans were finally reaping the good deeds of those who came before me living in a better society of equality and justice for all.
Tolerance was everywhere.
 I  assumed that racism was a dim uglism of the past. I naively assumed the black man had made great strides and I went about my growing up believing America was such a progressive country. A country that could realize it's wrongs, truly reflect, and take action to make amends. A country when citizens take part and fight for change it will come. That America was the best in "goodness" despite the sins of our past.
I felt blessed and proud of my elders; righteous people who made a difference.
They did make a difference.

It's a weird conversation to have because in many ways the black man has made strides, right?
How else can we reconcile that America voted for a black man twice to the Presidency?
This was the ultimate defining moment in illustrating that progress made.
That night in 2008, fucking history was made. I stood with my youngest daughter and fellow Organizers in Southeastern Ohio weeping for joy as Obama took the stage in my hometown of Chicago. Barack Obama himself articulated that point about progress as well in his speech that night. He was the living proof of history living it.

Only in "America" could we overcome such a shameful past and make it all color blind and right with the election of Barack Obama. Americans saw past Obama's color and funny name; instead they saw his elegant and brilliant mind. Only in America, a country founded on such awe inspiring principles, could reach this kind of greatness. Who didn't "feel" it?
 Later, standing in DC at Obama's inauguration surrounded with what felt like every single African American in the city I felt it once more. The light in their eyes, the sense of pride, the whole body feeling of hope and vindication in their stature. I cried as I reflected on my upbringing and the folks who helped to make this day even possible.
History was indeed fucking made. How bloody far we had we come.
A country that once enslaved the black man just elected the black man to the highest office in the land. IT was the wowiest of wow moments. The stuff of greatness you read in history books that give you the chills- happening in real time.
 

Well, we have lived the new "wow" over the past 8 years and what we have realized is that all of those steps in progress were very small steps forward indeed, including even, Barack Obama's Presidency.
The election of  Obama was a momentary euphoric blip in the true reality for African Americans.
If anything the election of Barack Obama revealed stunningly all too clear what has always existed regarding the true "reality" of being a black man in America and sadly that reality has never left our society. And it's still as ugly now as 50 years ago.

Even the profound election of the first black man as President; a mere tiny motion forward compared to the everyday reality of a black man walking down the street on his way to grab a burrito before he goes to work as a Professor at a college.

In my life thus far, born into the tumultuous era of MLK, all of the important progress that was made is now suffering giant leaps backward. Voting Rights.  Now? Systematic efforts and laws already enacted to roll back those same voting rights. The stepped up racial profiling, the increase in Police murdering black men and the institutionalized racism that has always existed in Police Precincts across our country has now reared it's ugly head only now because of the help of social media. That same social media has also provided a huge platform for bigotry and racism to be spewed out front and center in ways like never before.

The mood feels like it did back when I was a kid. The vibe much different though -and this time I'm not a wide eyed child simply observing my elders. I am the elder- and I am heartbroken.

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