S. L'Gree
2004-09-06 03:36:30 UTC
Can We Talk? I'm Afraid That We Can't
by Joseph H. Brown
Black folks who are reading this, be honest. Have you ever heard on the news
about some heinous crime and said to yourself, "Please don't let it be one
of us?" And when it is "one of us," have you ever found yourself defending
or justifying that act or similar ones to white co-workers or other
acquaintances?
If you answered yes to either question, don't feel bad. It is part of a
syndrome that has affected black Americans for years, and I'm as guilty as
the next black person. This syndrome has symptoms of denial and frequent
speech impediments that cause one to avoid seeing and talking about reality.
What I'm addressing is our inability to engage in open and honest dialogue
about the problems that confront us. It is one thing to present the illusion
of a united front in the presence of white people, but it has reached a
point where we cannot even discuss our own problems within our own
communities because, as I have heard many times, "We can't be putting our
dirty laundry out for white people to see."
I thought about this back in January when Rev. Jesse Jackson convened a
conference in Washington, D.C. to address the escalating problem of
black-on-black crime.
Although I'm always suspicious of Jackson's motives when he gets in front of
a camera or microphone, I at least had to give him credit for bringing the
problem out into a public forum for debate and discussion. The conference
was about a decade overdue, but the fact that it took place was the most
important thing.
However, as I predicted, Jackson was criticized for, as one nonattendee put
it, "perpetuating the stereotype of black men as being violent."
That is why we can't solve any of our problems. So fearful are we of
exposing the stereotypes that we deny exist, that we would rather let the
very dysfunctional behaviors that are destroying us from
within--black-on-black crime, drug consumption, adolescent pregnancy and
poor performance in school--fester uncontrollably rather than expose our
"dirty laundry."
The sad and somewhat funny part about this facade of unity against negative
stereotypes is that they are not a secret that will remain out of public
perceptions just because we as black Americans do not talk about them in
public.
Back in 1963, writer Herbert Storing pointed out this failure to deal with
the encumbrances to black progress when he observed: "Opportunities are
limited. How well have we used those that are open? Rights are still
curtailed. Have we prepared to exercise those we have? The Negro is blamed
for too much of American crime. Are we nevertheless responsible for too much
of it? The Negro can find deficiencies. . .in every phase of American life,
but his own deficiencies are not one whit removed by pointing out those of
others."
Even back then such talk was considered politically incorrect. But sadly,
things have not changed much since then.
A good example of what I'm talking about occurred in New York City a few
years ago. Then NYC Police Commissioner Benjamin Ward, a black man, told a
gathering of 150 black journalists: "Our dirty little secret is out of the
box. Most crime in this city is black-on-black crime. . .Most crime in this
city is committed by young blacks under 30 years of age. . .We are the
victims and the perpetrators. . .We should not try to hide it. We have to
speak out about it."
Guess who was hissed, booed and christened "Uncle Ben?"
As a journalist, I too have felt the wrath of my own people for daring to
write about, as Dr. Glenn Loury puts it, the enemy within rather than the
enemy without. A few years ago I wrote a column on how black unwed
parenthood was destroying the moral fiber of the black community (even here
in Iowa, 75 percent of all black births are out of wedlock).
"You write just what white people want to hear," one irate black woman
screamed at me over the phone. She never denied that what I wrote was
factual, she just didn't like the fact that I wrote it.
I'm sure every black journalist can tell a similar story. Those who can't
simply never bother to write anything that might offend certain black
people. Sadly, this points out the goal of this reticency; that is, avoiding
bad press rather than solving problems.
What are we hiding? The aforementioned problems are no secret to white
Americans. Besides, hardcore racists will find a way to dislike us
regardless of what we are doing or saying. Failing to speak out because of
what racists will say or think is a new form of control over us.
We are more concerned about what certain people might think about us than we
are about ending the current orgy of self-destruction that's going on in our
communities.
The result of this silencing of black independent thinking is that our
so-called dirty laundry get dirtier by the day. Dirty laundry cannot get
cleaned while it is laying in the hamper. The persistent problems that black
Americans face today require open, vigorous debate from all segments of the
black community, even if it leads to self-criticism. That can't happen when
black people are afraid to speak their minds for fear of intra-racial
ostracism (and to think we tell our children not to give in to peer
pressure).
The best reason to break this code of silence was given by Martin Luther
King. In his last published work titled "Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or
Community," he stated:
"It is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of high maturity, to rise to the
level of self-criticism. Though group unity we must convey to one another
that our women must be respected, and that life is too precious to be
destroyed in a Saturday night brawl, or a gang execution. Through community
agencies and religious institutions we must develop a positive program
through which Negro youth can become adjusted to urban living and improve
their general level of behavior."
What was once thought to be a political liability--self-criticism--has now
become a moral necessity.
If it's good enough for Dr. King, it should be good enough for the rest of
us. Let's get busy and start talking to one another honestly and openly, and
start listening as well. Only then will our dirty laundry get clean.
by Joseph H. Brown
Black folks who are reading this, be honest. Have you ever heard on the news
about some heinous crime and said to yourself, "Please don't let it be one
of us?" And when it is "one of us," have you ever found yourself defending
or justifying that act or similar ones to white co-workers or other
acquaintances?
If you answered yes to either question, don't feel bad. It is part of a
syndrome that has affected black Americans for years, and I'm as guilty as
the next black person. This syndrome has symptoms of denial and frequent
speech impediments that cause one to avoid seeing and talking about reality.
What I'm addressing is our inability to engage in open and honest dialogue
about the problems that confront us. It is one thing to present the illusion
of a united front in the presence of white people, but it has reached a
point where we cannot even discuss our own problems within our own
communities because, as I have heard many times, "We can't be putting our
dirty laundry out for white people to see."
I thought about this back in January when Rev. Jesse Jackson convened a
conference in Washington, D.C. to address the escalating problem of
black-on-black crime.
Although I'm always suspicious of Jackson's motives when he gets in front of
a camera or microphone, I at least had to give him credit for bringing the
problem out into a public forum for debate and discussion. The conference
was about a decade overdue, but the fact that it took place was the most
important thing.
However, as I predicted, Jackson was criticized for, as one nonattendee put
it, "perpetuating the stereotype of black men as being violent."
That is why we can't solve any of our problems. So fearful are we of
exposing the stereotypes that we deny exist, that we would rather let the
very dysfunctional behaviors that are destroying us from
within--black-on-black crime, drug consumption, adolescent pregnancy and
poor performance in school--fester uncontrollably rather than expose our
"dirty laundry."
The sad and somewhat funny part about this facade of unity against negative
stereotypes is that they are not a secret that will remain out of public
perceptions just because we as black Americans do not talk about them in
public.
Back in 1963, writer Herbert Storing pointed out this failure to deal with
the encumbrances to black progress when he observed: "Opportunities are
limited. How well have we used those that are open? Rights are still
curtailed. Have we prepared to exercise those we have? The Negro is blamed
for too much of American crime. Are we nevertheless responsible for too much
of it? The Negro can find deficiencies. . .in every phase of American life,
but his own deficiencies are not one whit removed by pointing out those of
others."
Even back then such talk was considered politically incorrect. But sadly,
things have not changed much since then.
A good example of what I'm talking about occurred in New York City a few
years ago. Then NYC Police Commissioner Benjamin Ward, a black man, told a
gathering of 150 black journalists: "Our dirty little secret is out of the
box. Most crime in this city is black-on-black crime. . .Most crime in this
city is committed by young blacks under 30 years of age. . .We are the
victims and the perpetrators. . .We should not try to hide it. We have to
speak out about it."
Guess who was hissed, booed and christened "Uncle Ben?"
As a journalist, I too have felt the wrath of my own people for daring to
write about, as Dr. Glenn Loury puts it, the enemy within rather than the
enemy without. A few years ago I wrote a column on how black unwed
parenthood was destroying the moral fiber of the black community (even here
in Iowa, 75 percent of all black births are out of wedlock).
"You write just what white people want to hear," one irate black woman
screamed at me over the phone. She never denied that what I wrote was
factual, she just didn't like the fact that I wrote it.
I'm sure every black journalist can tell a similar story. Those who can't
simply never bother to write anything that might offend certain black
people. Sadly, this points out the goal of this reticency; that is, avoiding
bad press rather than solving problems.
What are we hiding? The aforementioned problems are no secret to white
Americans. Besides, hardcore racists will find a way to dislike us
regardless of what we are doing or saying. Failing to speak out because of
what racists will say or think is a new form of control over us.
We are more concerned about what certain people might think about us than we
are about ending the current orgy of self-destruction that's going on in our
communities.
The result of this silencing of black independent thinking is that our
so-called dirty laundry get dirtier by the day. Dirty laundry cannot get
cleaned while it is laying in the hamper. The persistent problems that black
Americans face today require open, vigorous debate from all segments of the
black community, even if it leads to self-criticism. That can't happen when
black people are afraid to speak their minds for fear of intra-racial
ostracism (and to think we tell our children not to give in to peer
pressure).
The best reason to break this code of silence was given by Martin Luther
King. In his last published work titled "Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or
Community," he stated:
"It is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of high maturity, to rise to the
level of self-criticism. Though group unity we must convey to one another
that our women must be respected, and that life is too precious to be
destroyed in a Saturday night brawl, or a gang execution. Through community
agencies and religious institutions we must develop a positive program
through which Negro youth can become adjusted to urban living and improve
their general level of behavior."
What was once thought to be a political liability--self-criticism--has now
become a moral necessity.
If it's good enough for Dr. King, it should be good enough for the rest of
us. Let's get busy and start talking to one another honestly and openly, and
start listening as well. Only then will our dirty laundry get clean.