CURRENT EVENTS: HATRED IS TAUGHT

My Dad used to say, “A Black man’s life ain’t worth nothin’ here.” 

There were times he’d wonder out loud while reading about some tragedy or injustice in the newspaper, or watching the evening news, “Are we cursed? We must be cursed.” 

As he got older, I often asked him why he didn’t talk of moving back to his hometown in Louisiana any more. He cited the extreme heat--and racism.

 

“Ooooo, no indeed, Child!!! It's too hot! And they treat Black people somethin' terrible at home! I ain’t going back down there!” 

I wasn’t sure if he was referencing current events, or remembering his youth. Air conditioning, that he could surely afford, was an easy remedy for the heat, but no such remedy came to mind for how he would maneuver the racism that clearly infected, and affected him. He was content to remain in Maryland where he'd also encountered racism, just a different, slicker variety.

 
He spoke of the racism he endured while enlisted in the Navy, and when he dabbled in boxing. He told of how, initially, all Black men were expected to be ship's stewards. 

“I didn’t join the Navy to be a slave, so I tried to learn every job I could. I wanted to be my own boss.”

He told me of his first day stationed at The Pentagon as a federal protective officer. 

A burly white officer quipped, while patting on his holster, 

“Just so you know, I’m from Alabama.” 

The guy laughed, and looked around to get support from the other white officers nearby. 

Dad said, “I patted on my holster and told him, “And I’m from Louisiana, so you know how I feel. If I wasn’t armed like you, I wouldn’t work here.” 

He said the guy was dumbfounded and began walking back his attitude. 

“Oh, no, no. I didn’t mean anything. I was just joking!”  

Dad said, “Just so we understand each other”. 

He said they called him “Idi Amin” and “uppity”. Dad said he didn’t care. He didn’t go to work to make friends. He especially didn’t care when he was promoted, ended up at The State Department, and found himself supervising some of the same men who’d tried to intimidate, undermine, and discourage him.

I imagine that elderly Black men don’t become so by being impulsive or stupid. Is it that they were warned, and knew how to play the game, while simultaneously retaining their dignity? 

Is it that they were neither soft, nor subservient, but strategic, cool-headed, and smart? 

Is it that they studied the philosophy and habits of their foe? 

Is it luck?

What we see every day— the racism, hypocrisy, bullying, denial, and injustice— is not new. It’s tiring and old. 

The same way that some people re-write history, and keep the lessons in hate alive from generation to generation, young Black men need to hear accurate history, and the true survival stories and wisdom of seasoned Black men. 

Many young men brag about what they would do, or would have done in given historic situations. It sounds strong and brave in theory. Practice, however, is another animal altogether. 

Many Black people have been taught to demonstrate great compassion, forgiveness, grace, patience, and mercy. 

We have assimilated, studied, and spent centuries trying to be twice as good, upstanding, articulate, acceptable, passive, compliant, and non-threatening. Many have worn themselves out; sold their souls trying to gain proximity to whiteness. 

How long must we endeavor to prove that we’re human and have a right to exist? 

Should we just stop? 

Should we conclude that the hatred we face, directly and indirectly, is so deeply ingrained, promoted, and normalized, that it can never be eradicated?

 
We must, however, stop expecting others to express what is not in their hearts. People will never betray what they have been taught, and firmly believe. 

We must leave other people’s hearts to God. Love can't be legislated, but laws protecting the lives and rights of Black people in America can be strengthened. Too many people in power, however, are in place purely because of their bigotry and greed. Serving constituents is the last thing on their minds.

If someone doesn't view you as a human being, they will never see your worth or purpose. 

If they don’t view you as an equal; if they don’t believe there is anything about you that they should regard or respect, they won’t be compelled to speak up, fight for, defend, or protect you. 

They will hurt you for sport. 

Your attempts at establishing and demanding rights in places they don’t believe you belong, will always infuriate them.

 

Your love means nothing to people who have been taught to hate you. Hateful people, by their relentless behavior and reckless words, are actively making enemies of those who mean them no harm.

In America, many people's parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents hated and devalued people of color, and made sure their children did, too. Get it? 

People have learned how to demonize others. 

They spend their lives making sure you can’t have or own what they think is theirs. They don't want to change.

If people can reduce you to an insignificant animal, your suffering, death, and the grief of your family is meaningless to them. They don’t have to know you, or get to know you. Your skin color immediately triggers hatred. 

Some people never endeavor to be rid of it their ignorance and hatred. They pass it down to their children, who grow up with a sick sense of entitlement that causes them to terrorize and oppress yet another generation without even knowing why.

Hatred is taught. 

Racism is exhausting.

           

CALL TO ACTION

Why such complacency?

Where’s all the fire, and yesterday’s passion

That made them concede; change their ways?

Is that what we are--

Just too weary to worry

Heads bowed, as we count down the days?

Why aren’t WE in the streets?

Waving our banners, and raising our voices

So they’ll know that we mean what we say?

Is that what we are--

Just a talkative bunch

Working hard to stay out of the fray?

Somebody’s screaming for help

We cant even help ourselves

Trouble’s coming

Is there a hero to call?

Is that what we are

A nation in crisis

Have we a leader at all?

Perhaps it’s really a game

Why get all flustered? 

The ending’s fixed

And we’re merely new players in play

Is that what we are--

Just cards to be shuffled

Is that what we are--

Just pawns to be hustled

Is that what we are?

No

We’re more than our troubles

The time to wise up,

The time to rise up,

And never give up

 Is today