“I don’t think white people will not vote for me because I am black. If they don’t vote for me it is because I have not demonstrated to them the leadership qualities that they desire.”
This is a direct quote from an interview transcript Barack Obama had with George Stephanopoulos. This statement alone confirms my germinal belief about Barack: He simply is not prepared for the garbage that comes with the presidency of the United States. A black man who believes he is going to get the majority of the white vote because of his leadership capabilities is demonstrating to the world he is either clueless or trying his best to be positive. Being positive is perfectly okay. We all need to be now and then; while never forgetting about REALITY.
What real world does Barack live in? Does he understand that America is still a racist society? Does he realize that he is just another Negro with a suit and tie? Is Barack that naïve to think his blackness does not play a role in a white person’s decision? Doesn’t he comprehend that some black people will not vote for him because they subconsciously believe he is the color of incompetence? (similar to some blacks deciding not to seek the services of a black doctor or dentist because the physician is that “dreadful” color: BLACK)
Of course I was floored by his assessment as I listened to him do everything possible to convince the viewing population that he is the best Democratic candidate and will be the best president post Bush. I was even getting excited about him for once until he decided to be “positive” and/or politically correct. Initially, I said that Barack is not ready to be the president of the United States. But, over the past few months I have listened to him clarify his position on a few extremely important matters and detail a plan for his stint as the Commander and Chief. From my re-analysis of Mr. Obama’s verbiage I was starting to lean his way. Just a little. However, I could never get pass my suspicion that he does not display to me that he is really ready to sleep in the white house with an authoritative personality. I kept thinking: Does he have the balls to be the president of this conflicted country and will he be another Peace Corps-type for a president like James Earl Carter, Jr.? I just believe Barack Obama is too good for the US presidency, like the former peanut farmer proved to be. Too good in character. And, too vulnerable to be corrupted by the heavy weight-ness of Americas’ ferocious politics.
The last thing I would like to witness is Barack Obama get engulfed by the fecal matter that comes with attempting to be a good president. Good president? What does it take to be a good president anyway? President Walker Bush was a decent president for millions of people before he decided to annihilate Iraq and later support the Shiites. President Jefferson Clinton was a good president until he decided to receive blow jobs in the oval office. President Milhous Nixon was a good president until he ordered someone to eavesdrop. President Wilson Reagan was a good president until his War on Drugs Initiative revealed the alarming differences in prison sentencing for crack vs. powder cocaine offenders. My point is that we, the America voters, can never tell who will be a good president because of changing and evolving circumstances. All it takes to be black listed by voters is one mishap (Howard Dean episode). Just one because of our inability to see past the here and now.
All we have in our intellectual arsenals to make our decisions is the candidate’s scripted political history and their manufactured responses to critical questions. We have nothing that helps us understand them as people first and candidates second which leaves us with what we want them to be for us. Yes, even with voting we have made our selections based on what we personally believe we need. Not on what the country needs.
Evidently, Americans feel we need a change. The people have spoken. Both democrats and republicans. But, what will change? No, a better question - what has changed? We will still be entrenched in Iraq. We are not just going to precipitously leave the Iraqi people high and dry. If you believe these democratic law makers are willing to step-up and jump ship you may be just as naïve as Mr. Obama. We will still have no solution to the ever growing problems within the healthcare system. We will continue to put education at the bottom of the agenda. We definitely will not have an answer for the social security crisis our administrations dating back to Ford have created. Finally, we will NEVER have a solution to America’s race problem until both white and black people are honest with themselves and each other. Barack was not honest with Stephanopoulos. He gave the correct answer to appease America so he can get votes for a position his personality is not ready for, while surely not saying this truth to white and black America: ‘I am aware many of you have issues with my skin color. I am aware some of you will not vote for me because of your racist and self-hatred beliefs, but America needs me because I am the BEST leader in this pack of perpetrators.’ Nope, this sincerity and honesty will not come from Barrack because he is doing and saying what he believes he needs to as a result of PLAYING POLITICS.
As these power thirsty white men, one innocently callow black man, one ambassador-type American of Mexican decent, and one hardboiled white woman are saying what we want them to say so we can feel better the country is falling apart:
-Illegal immigrants are bankrupting the social services. (something I have a great deal of abhorrence towards) -The American Dream of purchasing a home has become nightmares for those bamboozled by sharks who the government failed to regulate.
-Companies are exporting their businesses leaving thousands of hard working blue collar folk jobless.
-The American family is under assault because of reckless liberalism e.g. gay marriage & carefree abortion.
-Our youth are on self destructive rampages i.e. using hard drugs (meth) & participating in real dangerous coition, and not clothes up grinding.
Written by Muata. Inspired by the reaction my younger sister had after a white man called her and her friend black nappy-headed niggers. Welcome to reality, Melanie! Inspired by the need for someone to tell Barrack Obama that the hearts and minds of most Americans have not changed. We just do a better job of hiding our contempt for each other now! And, if you don’t believe me ask the average black person what they really think about those Napoleon-complex brown skin brothers crossing the border illegally. We (black folk) have become the new George Wallace-type.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Blessed and Highly Favored
The next time I hear someone say, ‘I am blessed and highly favored’- I might just regurgitate. You cannot imagine how disgusted I am about having this statement reach my ears.
What does this statement truly mean? I will tell you: 'We (Christians) are blessed because we are saved and God favors us because we have decided to be apart of His Christian church/religion/kingdom, and you are/have not.' Not many Christians will tell you this with humility or without arrogance. Unfortunately, when they do reveal this to you it is done on a level of 'you are down here and we are UP here'.
The funny thing is I NEVER hear Muslims, Buddhist, Taoist, and the numerous other “religious” folk answering the phone with this statement. Perhaps they are secure in their beliefs and don’t need to boastfully broadcast to the world their so call “position” with God. I am of the belief this statement is made out of insecurity by the average Christian.
Who are these Christians trying to convince of their favor? I don’t have a need to know where you (the Christian) THINK you stand with God. I can careless. What type of response are they expecting to receive? Does it make them feel better to declare their "made up" status with their Lord?
Question: I guess that child of Muslim parents dying of AIDS in Africa is not blessed and highly favored? Ya see, the way I see it God is not going around blessing and favoring people. If he is, he has left out that innocent child in Africa. Hasn’t he??? If he is, he is involved in this Freewill concept these Christ followers proclaim he "gave" to the world. According to Christian doctrine, God granted freewill and then said to us ‘Here you go, humans. Do what you will.’ Isn’t it obvious we are doing as we will i.e. chaos, war, destroying the environment?
Do we actually believe God is involved in the details of our lives? If he is, why isn’t he rescuing the millions of kids being sexually molested and killed by "praying" adults while "moral" people are praying to keep our kids safe?
Also, why is there a need to ‘hold onto the everlasting arm of Jesus’ if you have been blessed and favored? The way I see it there is no need to seek comfort or security from The Son of Man (hold on to the everlasting arm of Jesus) if you are covered with the blood of Jesus (blessed and favored).
I ain’t crazy and I ain’t mad with Christianity. I am being real with REAL questions, and NO one is answering or addressing them for us folk who are THINKING and SEARCHING for a new path that will possibly lead us to some level of intellectually understanding, and not understanding by faith. To understand via your faith means one cannot move from that understanding without fusing in the dogma that's apart of their anima.
Written by Muata. Inspired by the devoted Christians who forget that their religion states that they are SINNERS first and SAINTS later.
What does this statement truly mean? I will tell you: 'We (Christians) are blessed because we are saved and God favors us because we have decided to be apart of His Christian church/religion/kingdom, and you are/have not.' Not many Christians will tell you this with humility or without arrogance. Unfortunately, when they do reveal this to you it is done on a level of 'you are down here and we are UP here'.
The funny thing is I NEVER hear Muslims, Buddhist, Taoist, and the numerous other “religious” folk answering the phone with this statement. Perhaps they are secure in their beliefs and don’t need to boastfully broadcast to the world their so call “position” with God. I am of the belief this statement is made out of insecurity by the average Christian.
Who are these Christians trying to convince of their favor? I don’t have a need to know where you (the Christian) THINK you stand with God. I can careless. What type of response are they expecting to receive? Does it make them feel better to declare their "made up" status with their Lord?
Question: I guess that child of Muslim parents dying of AIDS in Africa is not blessed and highly favored? Ya see, the way I see it God is not going around blessing and favoring people. If he is, he has left out that innocent child in Africa. Hasn’t he??? If he is, he is involved in this Freewill concept these Christ followers proclaim he "gave" to the world. According to Christian doctrine, God granted freewill and then said to us ‘Here you go, humans. Do what you will.’ Isn’t it obvious we are doing as we will i.e. chaos, war, destroying the environment?
Do we actually believe God is involved in the details of our lives? If he is, why isn’t he rescuing the millions of kids being sexually molested and killed by "praying" adults while "moral" people are praying to keep our kids safe?
Also, why is there a need to ‘hold onto the everlasting arm of Jesus’ if you have been blessed and favored? The way I see it there is no need to seek comfort or security from The Son of Man (hold on to the everlasting arm of Jesus) if you are covered with the blood of Jesus (blessed and favored).
I ain’t crazy and I ain’t mad with Christianity. I am being real with REAL questions, and NO one is answering or addressing them for us folk who are THINKING and SEARCHING for a new path that will possibly lead us to some level of intellectually understanding, and not understanding by faith. To understand via your faith means one cannot move from that understanding without fusing in the dogma that's apart of their anima.
Written by Muata. Inspired by the devoted Christians who forget that their religion states that they are SINNERS first and SAINTS later.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Millennium Generation Black Men: The New Pacifier Nation?
It does not surprise me that some white men still to this day carry themselves with an arrogance that exudes “I am a privileged man in this society – back the hell off”. It does not surprise me that some white men continue to think that they are better than other folk with darker skin. But, what has recently amazed me is the new attitude many of our black men and boys have been displaying, which motivates me to ask: Are these black males still sucking areolas and nipples at the ages of 3 to 25?
Before you stop reading or continue to read because you think I am on my way to “blasting black men” please be informed of this: I will NOT use this opportunity to torpedo my fellow brothas. Nope, I will not. However, I will share with you my thoughts on an unusual phenomenon within black culture. Queer in that I, as a 36 year old man, do not know of any black men my age who are walking around with a pacifier in his mouth.
Yes, there are black men my age out there who sistas claim want their mommas and not them as a girlfriend or wife. The sistas claim these men are still licking for breast milk. “Behaving like spoiled crybabies who eat and eat – and never feed their women!” Nonetheless, I am of the belief that if you were born in the seventies you still have a clue of what it really means to be a black man in America. Now, for these brothas born in the eighties and nineties my previous statement does not apply to many of them. These think-they-know something about hip-hop and information technology savvy Face Book addicts are beginning to be true Public Enemies. Not in the way the Public Enemies were described while I was growing up, but in the sense that they have taken on behavior that is reflective of too much coddling by momma which will eventually alienate them within this society of it is not my problem and dangerous narcissism. Black men cannot pull the same bull as our white counterparts.
I never thought I would see a black woman begging and pleading with her 5 year old son to sit down or come to her. I never thought I would see little black boys running throughout the grocery store like untrained monkeys. I never thought I would hear of a black kid smacking his momma. I never thought I would witness a black momma allowing her son to get away with just about anything. I always knew that mommas, particularly black mommas, favored their boys - but I never thought... You get my point.
What was totally foreign in my small black environment in North Carolina has finally made it into the mainstream of African American families: Total Disrespect for Momma. To be very honest I never heard a black kid say, ‘Kiss my azz, momma.’ I did not even think a child could formulate the thought to say it. On the other hand, this type of communication from white kids with their parents was and has continued to be a common occurrence. Even when I heard this level of impudence back in the day I just knew that the white kid was going to get a MAJOR beaten later. Evidently, I was wrong. These white kids did not get beat down when they were younger as far as I could tell because I was a witness to this type of disrespect of parents while attending that predominately white school in North Carolina. That place where I learned a few things about life. Thank God I did not pick up a crude reverence for my mother there.
Lately, black mothers for some reason have been giving out passes to their sons. It is evident in the young men’s actions: Never wanting to take responsibility for poor behavior. Making excuses for their problems. Never acknowledging that they have made a mistake. And, the ultimate: Using this behavior as a justification for their “plight” in life. Can you believe it? These sorry behind teenage boys are running around here believing that we have totally failed them. Yes, my generation and my mother’s have not completely done all we can do to assure our children are in a better position in the next 10 to 20 years, but we have not failed them to the extent we are the source behind: Total Disrespect of Momma.
However, there is indication that black mommas are failing our boys. I want to believe that my sistas with children today are not coddling their black boys to death (literally), but statistics and their behavior points to momma as part of the problem. Why can’t black women remove the pacifiers from our black men’s mouths? Why have they taken on this new role of ‘son, I will hold you in my arms and wipe your behind until you are 25’? Perhaps it has always been this way and I just did not conceptualize the magnitude, or are the affects finally reaching our doorsteps and schools with a vengeance? Momma is prone to “take-up” for Kris after he blatantly misbehaves in an orderly classroom. Ask any teacher or principal in urban America!
I emphatically believe more black women are refusing to cut the umbilical cord sooner, and it is causing us to be apart of this pathetic Coddler Nation along with the other America. Here we go again taking on what they do. I wonder if we are going to start outsourcing breast feeding. You read that right: (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/18313552/). When are we going to realize that their ways do not necessarily jive with our mode of living, let alone childrearing? Don’t we have a different set of problems that our men face each and every day? Persisting on timeout as a method of punishment for kicking little Shawanda in the face is not an appropriate form of chastisement for Andre. What brotha you know will be given a light prison sentence for backhanding a Susie? That Negro will go straight to prison for abusing America’s beacon of beauty!
To address the apparent two sides to this dilemma and not place sole blame on our phenomenal black mommas, we must put some responsibility on the shoulders of the pansy-behind absentee male baby makers. I have continuously heard and read, “A son needs his father”. But, what does this truly mean? Does this imply if our fathers were in the homes these non-appreciative boys will behave differently? If this is the case, why cannot these black men who help make the babies understand that staying in the home or at least being a dad is CRITICAL? I seriously can’t believe some of us actually LEAVE. Get LOST. Then we wonder why black folk are stuck in third gear. My disdain for this dude is over the top! He really does not get it: The man is supposed to lead and make things happen for the family. We were not created to be cowards! This black man should be ashamed of himself.
It all boils down to what I call Manhood Responsibility. Just be a man. Why is there a need for manhood development training programs considering women when faced with having to be there for the life they help create are PRESENT? They take on the responsibility to be a mother while our men voice that they have to ‘find themselves’. This particular double standard is ruining our future along with babying Lil DJ.
How much longer will we allow this double standard to exist? When will our mothers realize that coddling is not working? Let Joe-Joe cry! When will these baby making boys stop walking around here frontin’ as men when in fact they are little punks? Man up!
Written by Muata. Inspired by those black mommas wearing both pair of shoes: Mom’s and Dad’s. Inspired by what I am going to do the next time I hear my son say, “I want my momma.”
Before you stop reading or continue to read because you think I am on my way to “blasting black men” please be informed of this: I will NOT use this opportunity to torpedo my fellow brothas. Nope, I will not. However, I will share with you my thoughts on an unusual phenomenon within black culture. Queer in that I, as a 36 year old man, do not know of any black men my age who are walking around with a pacifier in his mouth.
Yes, there are black men my age out there who sistas claim want their mommas and not them as a girlfriend or wife. The sistas claim these men are still licking for breast milk. “Behaving like spoiled crybabies who eat and eat – and never feed their women!” Nonetheless, I am of the belief that if you were born in the seventies you still have a clue of what it really means to be a black man in America. Now, for these brothas born in the eighties and nineties my previous statement does not apply to many of them. These think-they-know something about hip-hop and information technology savvy Face Book addicts are beginning to be true Public Enemies. Not in the way the Public Enemies were described while I was growing up, but in the sense that they have taken on behavior that is reflective of too much coddling by momma which will eventually alienate them within this society of it is not my problem and dangerous narcissism. Black men cannot pull the same bull as our white counterparts.
I never thought I would see a black woman begging and pleading with her 5 year old son to sit down or come to her. I never thought I would see little black boys running throughout the grocery store like untrained monkeys. I never thought I would hear of a black kid smacking his momma. I never thought I would witness a black momma allowing her son to get away with just about anything. I always knew that mommas, particularly black mommas, favored their boys - but I never thought... You get my point.
What was totally foreign in my small black environment in North Carolina has finally made it into the mainstream of African American families: Total Disrespect for Momma. To be very honest I never heard a black kid say, ‘Kiss my azz, momma.’ I did not even think a child could formulate the thought to say it. On the other hand, this type of communication from white kids with their parents was and has continued to be a common occurrence. Even when I heard this level of impudence back in the day I just knew that the white kid was going to get a MAJOR beaten later. Evidently, I was wrong. These white kids did not get beat down when they were younger as far as I could tell because I was a witness to this type of disrespect of parents while attending that predominately white school in North Carolina. That place where I learned a few things about life. Thank God I did not pick up a crude reverence for my mother there.
Lately, black mothers for some reason have been giving out passes to their sons. It is evident in the young men’s actions: Never wanting to take responsibility for poor behavior. Making excuses for their problems. Never acknowledging that they have made a mistake. And, the ultimate: Using this behavior as a justification for their “plight” in life. Can you believe it? These sorry behind teenage boys are running around here believing that we have totally failed them. Yes, my generation and my mother’s have not completely done all we can do to assure our children are in a better position in the next 10 to 20 years, but we have not failed them to the extent we are the source behind: Total Disrespect of Momma.
However, there is indication that black mommas are failing our boys. I want to believe that my sistas with children today are not coddling their black boys to death (literally), but statistics and their behavior points to momma as part of the problem. Why can’t black women remove the pacifiers from our black men’s mouths? Why have they taken on this new role of ‘son, I will hold you in my arms and wipe your behind until you are 25’? Perhaps it has always been this way and I just did not conceptualize the magnitude, or are the affects finally reaching our doorsteps and schools with a vengeance? Momma is prone to “take-up” for Kris after he blatantly misbehaves in an orderly classroom. Ask any teacher or principal in urban America!
I emphatically believe more black women are refusing to cut the umbilical cord sooner, and it is causing us to be apart of this pathetic Coddler Nation along with the other America. Here we go again taking on what they do. I wonder if we are going to start outsourcing breast feeding. You read that right: (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/18313552/). When are we going to realize that their ways do not necessarily jive with our mode of living, let alone childrearing? Don’t we have a different set of problems that our men face each and every day? Persisting on timeout as a method of punishment for kicking little Shawanda in the face is not an appropriate form of chastisement for Andre. What brotha you know will be given a light prison sentence for backhanding a Susie? That Negro will go straight to prison for abusing America’s beacon of beauty!
To address the apparent two sides to this dilemma and not place sole blame on our phenomenal black mommas, we must put some responsibility on the shoulders of the pansy-behind absentee male baby makers. I have continuously heard and read, “A son needs his father”. But, what does this truly mean? Does this imply if our fathers were in the homes these non-appreciative boys will behave differently? If this is the case, why cannot these black men who help make the babies understand that staying in the home or at least being a dad is CRITICAL? I seriously can’t believe some of us actually LEAVE. Get LOST. Then we wonder why black folk are stuck in third gear. My disdain for this dude is over the top! He really does not get it: The man is supposed to lead and make things happen for the family. We were not created to be cowards! This black man should be ashamed of himself.
It all boils down to what I call Manhood Responsibility. Just be a man. Why is there a need for manhood development training programs considering women when faced with having to be there for the life they help create are PRESENT? They take on the responsibility to be a mother while our men voice that they have to ‘find themselves’. This particular double standard is ruining our future along with babying Lil DJ.
How much longer will we allow this double standard to exist? When will our mothers realize that coddling is not working? Let Joe-Joe cry! When will these baby making boys stop walking around here frontin’ as men when in fact they are little punks? Man up!
Written by Muata. Inspired by those black mommas wearing both pair of shoes: Mom’s and Dad’s. Inspired by what I am going to do the next time I hear my son say, “I want my momma.”
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Homelessness: A Laughing Matter
On April 9, 2007 at approximately 9:15am I saw a black man running across a very busy intersection in Atlanta. He was in a 200 meter stride. It appeared he was trying his best to get to an area where he could go unnoticed while urinating. As I watched this man struggle to unzip his pants I began to laugh uncontrollably. For some reason on this Monday morning I needed a reason to laugh and I guess someone to laugh at. I found my victim in a black homeless man. As I drove past this man, who could have been my uncle Raymond at one time or even me if I don’t find a job real soon, I continued to laugh. I just found the scene to be hilarious for some odd reason. He just could not get his penis out of his jeans to relieve himself. His difficulty became my sick joke and my pleasure entertainment as I road in the comforts of my luxury vehicle.
When I finally lost view of this particular man and as soon as I approached Garrett Morgan’s invention I saw another black man in the cross walk talking to himself and carrying a briefcase. He had on shorts, a filthy white t-shirt, dilapidated looking Chuck Taylor’s, and suspenders. Immediately, I thought: He is homeless. He had to be dressed like that and looking so defeated. Here it was 43 degrees in April, and this black man had on shorts. He had to be cold, but his destination in his mind was work.
While I experienced the comedic moment, I shared the play-by-play with someone extremely important to me. She did not appear to find the urinating man story to be funny. I just believe my animation tickled her. Remember, I was literally falling out of the driver’s seat giggling. As I continued to have this cell phone morning chat outside of my free minutes timeframe I began to really “get in-tuned” with what I was making fun of on this eventful morning. It got additionally clearer to me when I parked, and a homeless woman asked me for some money for breakfast. In my unsympathetic way I refused to press the down portion of my driver’s side window lever to hear what this broken soul asked of me. I read her lips as I gazed into her intense eyes: “I am cold and hungry. Can you please spare a dollar?”
In those eyes I saw pain, embarrassment, humiliation, and personal disgust, but I still could not bring myself to communicate with this homeless black woman. I guess I did not really SEE her as a human being. She must have been what my dear friend described within her question while I laughed at that man trying his best to take a leak: Is he a real man or a homeless man? After realizing the magnitude of her question an apology came through my cell phone, and then and only then did I began to understand that this series of events was either divine or an opportunity for me to make it a God Sent Message. Considering I do believe in God, I want to believe that this Power we claim to identify with and who we pray to each night was communicating something to me. Even if one day some “logical” human being proves there is no God, I will always believe that there was a God Force speaking to me via on my faith on April 9, 2007 between the minutes of 9:15am and 9:30am.
For a few months now I have been trying to think of another way to give something back. You know, do something other than constantly talk and write about the ills affecting the black community, speaking occasionally at schools, raising my son, donating money to the United Negro College Fund, and mentoring my nephew.
Every since my first day of working in the Five Points area of Atlanta I have disliked that I must entrench my spirit and being in the mess that plays out without interruption or failure in the heart of America’s fastest growing metropolis. I despise the self-degradation that I see, and the lack of personal responsibility displayed by my people. I truly detest the ramifications that have been inflicted upon us as a result of an oppressive and racist governmental system. In spite of this internal conflict, one thing has been ongoing within me: I have, in my unique way, connected with the homeless population on Broad, Trinity, and Mitchell streets. Through significant mental anguish and my uncouthly compassion another meaningful cause will be added to my life.
As of today, I have decided to team up with a program that feeds the homeless on Saturday mornings in that same parking lot where I see black men and women walking around in a trance begging for a little bit of my government granted salary. The director of the program doesn’t know it yet, but he will be surprised when I stop by this coming Saturday morning with bags of hand-me-downs. I remember those bags filled with goodies!
Your help is needed. If you live in the Atlanta metro area please go through your closets, and donate those “old” clothes to a good cause. I will even pick them up. There is not a huge rush because this weekend some black man who, by the way, could be my father will get two pair of shoes, a few shirts, and some slacks from my closet.
If you would like to donate please let me know ASAP. Also, if you are reading while living in another city please encourage your church to think about forming a homeless ministry. I will even do what I can from afar. Hold up – all of our churches are already addressing this issue. Righhhht!
Lord, help us to SEE these aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, grandfathers, grandmothers, mommas, and fathers as REAL PEOPLE and not homeless people.
Written by Muata. Inspired by that man who I hope finally got his penis out of his pants.
When I finally lost view of this particular man and as soon as I approached Garrett Morgan’s invention I saw another black man in the cross walk talking to himself and carrying a briefcase. He had on shorts, a filthy white t-shirt, dilapidated looking Chuck Taylor’s, and suspenders. Immediately, I thought: He is homeless. He had to be dressed like that and looking so defeated. Here it was 43 degrees in April, and this black man had on shorts. He had to be cold, but his destination in his mind was work.
While I experienced the comedic moment, I shared the play-by-play with someone extremely important to me. She did not appear to find the urinating man story to be funny. I just believe my animation tickled her. Remember, I was literally falling out of the driver’s seat giggling. As I continued to have this cell phone morning chat outside of my free minutes timeframe I began to really “get in-tuned” with what I was making fun of on this eventful morning. It got additionally clearer to me when I parked, and a homeless woman asked me for some money for breakfast. In my unsympathetic way I refused to press the down portion of my driver’s side window lever to hear what this broken soul asked of me. I read her lips as I gazed into her intense eyes: “I am cold and hungry. Can you please spare a dollar?”
In those eyes I saw pain, embarrassment, humiliation, and personal disgust, but I still could not bring myself to communicate with this homeless black woman. I guess I did not really SEE her as a human being. She must have been what my dear friend described within her question while I laughed at that man trying his best to take a leak: Is he a real man or a homeless man? After realizing the magnitude of her question an apology came through my cell phone, and then and only then did I began to understand that this series of events was either divine or an opportunity for me to make it a God Sent Message. Considering I do believe in God, I want to believe that this Power we claim to identify with and who we pray to each night was communicating something to me. Even if one day some “logical” human being proves there is no God, I will always believe that there was a God Force speaking to me via on my faith on April 9, 2007 between the minutes of 9:15am and 9:30am.
For a few months now I have been trying to think of another way to give something back. You know, do something other than constantly talk and write about the ills affecting the black community, speaking occasionally at schools, raising my son, donating money to the United Negro College Fund, and mentoring my nephew.
Every since my first day of working in the Five Points area of Atlanta I have disliked that I must entrench my spirit and being in the mess that plays out without interruption or failure in the heart of America’s fastest growing metropolis. I despise the self-degradation that I see, and the lack of personal responsibility displayed by my people. I truly detest the ramifications that have been inflicted upon us as a result of an oppressive and racist governmental system. In spite of this internal conflict, one thing has been ongoing within me: I have, in my unique way, connected with the homeless population on Broad, Trinity, and Mitchell streets. Through significant mental anguish and my uncouthly compassion another meaningful cause will be added to my life.
As of today, I have decided to team up with a program that feeds the homeless on Saturday mornings in that same parking lot where I see black men and women walking around in a trance begging for a little bit of my government granted salary. The director of the program doesn’t know it yet, but he will be surprised when I stop by this coming Saturday morning with bags of hand-me-downs. I remember those bags filled with goodies!
Your help is needed. If you live in the Atlanta metro area please go through your closets, and donate those “old” clothes to a good cause. I will even pick them up. There is not a huge rush because this weekend some black man who, by the way, could be my father will get two pair of shoes, a few shirts, and some slacks from my closet.
If you would like to donate please let me know ASAP. Also, if you are reading while living in another city please encourage your church to think about forming a homeless ministry. I will even do what I can from afar. Hold up – all of our churches are already addressing this issue. Righhhht!
Lord, help us to SEE these aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, grandfathers, grandmothers, mommas, and fathers as REAL PEOPLE and not homeless people.
Written by Muata. Inspired by that man who I hope finally got his penis out of his pants.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
War changes you, but what else am I suppose to do?
Clearly, the Iraq war has changed the political and social landscape of the United States and the Middle East. As a result of this pointless war villages in Iraq and in small poor towns throughout the United States have suffered. The suffering is noticeable in countless ways. American men and women are coming home maimed. Children are parentless, and Iraqi men and women are scarred for life. Their country will never be the same. The remnants of war will forever linger above the sunsets in Fallujah, Baghdad, South Hill, and in Fayette-nam: home of the 82nd Air Borne.
If you listen to the conservative pundits you will gather that they believe this war is justifiable. According to them it was the right thing to do. If you lean to the left and if you avoid the conservative news networks you are among a group of people who believe fighting this war was one of the United States government’s biggest mistakes. I disagree with this. America’s most drastic mistake was nonchalantly allowing black men and women to be victimized by a system of blatant and institutionalized racism. Anyway, the Iraq war is not only bankrupting the federal reserve it is exposing our third world type conditions to the world.
The government’s involvement in this war has made us vulnerable to additional criticism. We are no longer viewed as the country that has it together. How can we be when the individuals who serve in our armed forces cannot receive appropriate healthcare back on American soil? You would think this fine country could at least house their wounded in non-molded infested dwellings which, as a matter of fact, I have seen in countless hospitals in the developing world - but we are considered the First World. Now, that is worth responding with: Wow! But no, we the United States of America are deficient in this area. We have dropped the ball again. You would think we would have learned something during and after both World War I and II. And, after the Vietnam War. Our men and women faced the same issues back then. Again, Wow!
Do we honestly believe our soldiers were aware of the military’s deficiencies before they volunteered to safeguard the great United States? I often wondered as a high school senior why that Army recruiter was so persistent and evasive. She was always seated each and every Friday in the Thomasville High School Student Union. She did not miss a Friday of tip-toeing around the important questions. I also wondered why so many of my friends walked up to her information table. Actually, at the time I was intrigued by the military. Deep down in my subconscious I wanted to come home alive in a uniform, but I could not get the words of my uncles out of my head. The words were: “Do not fight for this country. This country will turn its back on you.” These were the words of two former military men. When I got older I asked my uncles why did they join. Both of them without hesitation said, “I did not have anything else to do, and I wanted to leave this small town.”
There is a lot of psychology in their statement. Two black men wanted to do something with their lives. Two black men had a desire to get out of a small town. These are the same exact reasons why some of my classmates approached that recruitment table 20 years ago. They wanted to flee all those negative elements that make up a small town i.e. limited mentalities and debilitating unemployment. Their interest did not stem from a passion to serve this country. They were not boasting with American pride. There was no reason for us to be in love with Uncle Sam’s country. We were poor and black. Two characteristics that forced us to remember “our place”. But, we did have a desire to do something with our lives. We were motivated to be somebody. To do more than what the former upper classmen did.
Back then (the late 80’s) in my small town there was a concerted push for young men and women to do something with their lives. The teachers and guidance counselors encouraged us to go to college or to get a job in the furniture factories. However, starting your work career off at a furniture factory was not held in high esteem. Our parents wanted “more” for their children, and going to college was a challenge for too many of us. But, going to the military was an easy answer. I can remember so many adults communicating that join the Army message. When I think about their persistence now I get repulsed, but I do understand and respect their efforts. They just wanted us to make something of ourselves. They wanted to be proud of us. No harm in that.
Most people have felt the pressure to be successful. No one wants to be a failure. I wholeheartedly believe that. Nevertheless, in our efforts to promote the things our children must do to be successful I believe it is absolutely essential that we do not promote a line of work that has a high potential to leave our men 1) mentally traumatized, 2) resentful, and 3) unemployable. My uncles’ personalities and lives give indication to all three despite their ability to successfully navigate through America’s crippling deceit and unfulfilled promises. I honor Raymond and Jerry Payne. They have done their very best under the illusionary banner we hypocritically take so much pride in: Democracy.
Unfortunately, after 30 plus years this is the same result for our young black men. Yes, there are “success stories”. And, I agree that the military can lead one on an amazing path of success. Nonetheless, the war America raged has proven that there is a negative side that our men NEVER hear about when being courted by that recruiter in the crisp uniform. Their methods of minority recruitment are filled with all types of sensory enticements: loud rap music, girls representing the Army with mid-drifts and booty shorts on, and vehicles with flashy rims. This is the way the Army recruits in what they call the urban market. The picture within this link is an example of what they use to attract young black men at HBCU’s and outside of strip malls in places like Atlanta, Detroit, and Houston (http://rides.webshots.com/photo/2848327010072832045qBnLgZ).
Not only, is America’s wing of defense tapping into flamboyant marketing directed to black men and women. They also have the audacity to camp out in small rural towns where the population is mostly white. Yep, they even prey on young whites in the heart of America, the mid-West. The approach is somewhat the same they just don’t bring the fully loaded Hummers blaring the rap song, Throw Some D’s On It. No, the white Marine and Navy recruiters go to the local Friday night football game and hoodwink those teenagers by playing on the emotion of fear. That fear is rooted in the question: ‘What will I do with my life?’
War has changed too many of us. It is my hope the change for those successfully bamboozled will come as a result of the TRUTH: ‘The military’s purpose is to protect and defend the United States. There is a GOOD chance you will have to fight in a war, and you may be killed.’
If the Bush Administration has its way we will be fighting and fighting with no end to the fighting in sight, which means more young and poverty stricken 18 to 25 year olds will come home with no legs or possibly in a coffin wrapped in a symbol that’s hated by most of the world: The American Flag. Just because foreigners arrive at our doorsteps does not mean we are beloved by them. The American government has made enemies and they continue to do so with a renewed zeal of imperialism. Just travel to Europe, Africa, and Asia; and dialogue with the common folk. They resent the America that’s caused so much strife and unnecessary changes in their fragile countries.
The detrimental changes as a result of this war:
*3,218 US soldiers killed and 24,042 seriously wounded in Iraq
*Iraqi Military and Police Casualties - 6,271
*Iraqi civilian causalities have been significantly under reported. Casualties are reported at 50,000 to over 100,000, but may be significantly higher. Some informed estimates place Iraqi civilian causalities at over 600,000.
http://abcnews.go.com/US/story?id=2954716&page=1
Written by Muata. Inspired by the 18 year old white kid who told Richard Engel, CNN reporter, “God knows I was not prepared for this.” Inspired by the 20 year old black man who told a BBC reporter, “I want to go home. I regret I ever joined the military, but what else was I suppose to do?”
If you listen to the conservative pundits you will gather that they believe this war is justifiable. According to them it was the right thing to do. If you lean to the left and if you avoid the conservative news networks you are among a group of people who believe fighting this war was one of the United States government’s biggest mistakes. I disagree with this. America’s most drastic mistake was nonchalantly allowing black men and women to be victimized by a system of blatant and institutionalized racism. Anyway, the Iraq war is not only bankrupting the federal reserve it is exposing our third world type conditions to the world.
The government’s involvement in this war has made us vulnerable to additional criticism. We are no longer viewed as the country that has it together. How can we be when the individuals who serve in our armed forces cannot receive appropriate healthcare back on American soil? You would think this fine country could at least house their wounded in non-molded infested dwellings which, as a matter of fact, I have seen in countless hospitals in the developing world - but we are considered the First World. Now, that is worth responding with: Wow! But no, we the United States of America are deficient in this area. We have dropped the ball again. You would think we would have learned something during and after both World War I and II. And, after the Vietnam War. Our men and women faced the same issues back then. Again, Wow!
Do we honestly believe our soldiers were aware of the military’s deficiencies before they volunteered to safeguard the great United States? I often wondered as a high school senior why that Army recruiter was so persistent and evasive. She was always seated each and every Friday in the Thomasville High School Student Union. She did not miss a Friday of tip-toeing around the important questions. I also wondered why so many of my friends walked up to her information table. Actually, at the time I was intrigued by the military. Deep down in my subconscious I wanted to come home alive in a uniform, but I could not get the words of my uncles out of my head. The words were: “Do not fight for this country. This country will turn its back on you.” These were the words of two former military men. When I got older I asked my uncles why did they join. Both of them without hesitation said, “I did not have anything else to do, and I wanted to leave this small town.”
There is a lot of psychology in their statement. Two black men wanted to do something with their lives. Two black men had a desire to get out of a small town. These are the same exact reasons why some of my classmates approached that recruitment table 20 years ago. They wanted to flee all those negative elements that make up a small town i.e. limited mentalities and debilitating unemployment. Their interest did not stem from a passion to serve this country. They were not boasting with American pride. There was no reason for us to be in love with Uncle Sam’s country. We were poor and black. Two characteristics that forced us to remember “our place”. But, we did have a desire to do something with our lives. We were motivated to be somebody. To do more than what the former upper classmen did.
Back then (the late 80’s) in my small town there was a concerted push for young men and women to do something with their lives. The teachers and guidance counselors encouraged us to go to college or to get a job in the furniture factories. However, starting your work career off at a furniture factory was not held in high esteem. Our parents wanted “more” for their children, and going to college was a challenge for too many of us. But, going to the military was an easy answer. I can remember so many adults communicating that join the Army message. When I think about their persistence now I get repulsed, but I do understand and respect their efforts. They just wanted us to make something of ourselves. They wanted to be proud of us. No harm in that.
Most people have felt the pressure to be successful. No one wants to be a failure. I wholeheartedly believe that. Nevertheless, in our efforts to promote the things our children must do to be successful I believe it is absolutely essential that we do not promote a line of work that has a high potential to leave our men 1) mentally traumatized, 2) resentful, and 3) unemployable. My uncles’ personalities and lives give indication to all three despite their ability to successfully navigate through America’s crippling deceit and unfulfilled promises. I honor Raymond and Jerry Payne. They have done their very best under the illusionary banner we hypocritically take so much pride in: Democracy.
Unfortunately, after 30 plus years this is the same result for our young black men. Yes, there are “success stories”. And, I agree that the military can lead one on an amazing path of success. Nonetheless, the war America raged has proven that there is a negative side that our men NEVER hear about when being courted by that recruiter in the crisp uniform. Their methods of minority recruitment are filled with all types of sensory enticements: loud rap music, girls representing the Army with mid-drifts and booty shorts on, and vehicles with flashy rims. This is the way the Army recruits in what they call the urban market. The picture within this link is an example of what they use to attract young black men at HBCU’s and outside of strip malls in places like Atlanta, Detroit, and Houston (http://rides.webshots.com/photo/2848327010072832045qBnLgZ).
Not only, is America’s wing of defense tapping into flamboyant marketing directed to black men and women. They also have the audacity to camp out in small rural towns where the population is mostly white. Yep, they even prey on young whites in the heart of America, the mid-West. The approach is somewhat the same they just don’t bring the fully loaded Hummers blaring the rap song, Throw Some D’s On It. No, the white Marine and Navy recruiters go to the local Friday night football game and hoodwink those teenagers by playing on the emotion of fear. That fear is rooted in the question: ‘What will I do with my life?’
War has changed too many of us. It is my hope the change for those successfully bamboozled will come as a result of the TRUTH: ‘The military’s purpose is to protect and defend the United States. There is a GOOD chance you will have to fight in a war, and you may be killed.’
If the Bush Administration has its way we will be fighting and fighting with no end to the fighting in sight, which means more young and poverty stricken 18 to 25 year olds will come home with no legs or possibly in a coffin wrapped in a symbol that’s hated by most of the world: The American Flag. Just because foreigners arrive at our doorsteps does not mean we are beloved by them. The American government has made enemies and they continue to do so with a renewed zeal of imperialism. Just travel to Europe, Africa, and Asia; and dialogue with the common folk. They resent the America that’s caused so much strife and unnecessary changes in their fragile countries.
The detrimental changes as a result of this war:
*3,218 US soldiers killed and 24,042 seriously wounded in Iraq
*Iraqi Military and Police Casualties - 6,271
*Iraqi civilian causalities have been significantly under reported. Casualties are reported at 50,000 to over 100,000, but may be significantly higher. Some informed estimates place Iraqi civilian causalities at over 600,000.
http://abcnews.go.com/US/story?id=2954716&page=1
Written by Muata. Inspired by the 18 year old white kid who told Richard Engel, CNN reporter, “God knows I was not prepared for this.” Inspired by the 20 year old black man who told a BBC reporter, “I want to go home. I regret I ever joined the military, but what else was I suppose to do?”
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
The Silence is Killing us
The Silence is Killing us is a commentary response to our inability to face ourselves and do what is necessary to remove the shackles of mental slavery. The chains are no longer present, but the affects of the chains are. Being that African Americans DO perfectly understand that we are killing ourselves one must ponder if we are capable of SAVING ourselves. I believe we can without the thralldom of religion, but first we must acknowledge that we are catering to the enemy by not accepting personal responsibility and by avoiding the disturbing reflections in the mirror. We are better than what we display to the world!
The culture of silence has regulated us to a culture of personal responsibility avoidance. No one is responsible for their behavior. The “dog did it excuse” is pervasive throughout America. We have become a culture of finger pointing which will ultimately leave us in “bad shape” as Farrakhan has on numerous occasions passionately communicated to jam packed arenas full of black people.
When I was a child my grandmother faithfully stressed to me that my reputation will be determined by two things: the way I conduct myself and how I handle my problems. She told me to behave like I have some sense and to always and I repeat ALWAYS be responsible for my issues, and NEVER blame my neglectful, asinine, stupid, and ignorant behavior on “the system” or on someone else. Her basic message: “Brian, take responsibility. The issues and solutions lie within.”
Whatever happened to this type of child rearing? Where are the parents who feed this to their children? Are there any remaining? What mechanisms are in place in our public school system to foster this type of guidance? More specifically and in line with current events, where was the outcry from our black politicians, the black community, and our civic/religious leaders when two teenagers were caught red handed supplying cherry flavored marijuana blunts to two toddlers {http://youtube.com/watch?v=SPgKZOfG89Q}. I will tell you where we are: We are waddling in our inability to grab a hold of PR: Personal Responsibility. We are too busy waiting on a white person to say or do the “wrong” thing. Once again, our attention is misguided and shameful on every level. Rhetoric? Ranting? It is, but this needs to be said and read repeatedly.
When I heard about this incident I was on the road driving to one of the black community’s leading events. The CIAA basketball tournament is regarded as the premier sporting event for Historically Black Colleges and Universities. Not only is the basketball play entertaining, the action surrounding it is what I call top-notch. Yes, I am referring to the partying and networking, but I want to point out also that these all day and all night long parties are mature in nature, safe, and fun. No teen or early twenties type of drama whatsoever. At the completion of the weekend festivities I felt so proud that some fool did not pull a gun because someone stepped on his sparkling white Air Force Ones.
Anyway, as I drove up interstate 85 this ridiculous crime was shared with me by a teacher. When he finished describing what I later saw on CNN and Fox my immediate question to him was: Were the teenagers black? The impetus to this question is “deep seated” in my desire not to be embarrassed by black people’s trifling behavior. Something I constantly write and talk about with love. Something that makes me want to smack a few of my people. Something that can be prevented if WE do what needs to be done to reverse the tide of self destruction. Remember that song with those two words throughout? I believe part of the lyrics are, “we are headed for self destruction”. This was when hip-hop had a positive message and image.
What I am even more embarrassed by is our lazy and sorry-behind response. We are no where to be found on this issue. But yet, a few weeks ago we were all over the news complaining about a white man giving Barack Obama an accolade. Well, I and a few other black folk took it as a compliment. I suspect my line of thought was way off considering I was blasted by friends who thought I was not down with blackness. One person insinuated that I am recklessly critical of my people. Another friend mentioned that I was selling out.
Selling out? Well, selling out to me is when we are not flooding the internet blogs with condemnation of irresponsible behavior. Selling out is when we remain hush-hush when a black person does something imbecilic. Selling out is when our great arms of “protect the black folk from the white media” i.e. NAACP are no where to be found when devastating events like the one the world has viewed on YouTube over 160,000 times occur. Do I need to list any other examples of selling out? I shall not! I will only be accused of “hatin’ on black folk”. Watch the video and really see who is hatin' on us. Try to figure out what the black community is doing to address this opprobrious act, and you will see whose hatin' on black folk. We are doing the hatin’ as a result of our tight lips.
Back to personal responsibility. But first try to stomach the latest YouTube video that further supports my claim that black folk are becoming more and more reluctant to grabbing a hold of Personal Responsibility. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gUv3Y7f1hRc
I have personalized this commentary because I saw the devastation of four black youth last week. The two and five year olds may have been smoking weed for months. Weed heads already! The two teenagers evidently are shiftless and lack the necessary gumption to do something meaningful with their lives. What do we have as a result: the uncle and his boy will go to America’s second home for black men (prison) and the two toddlers are now wards of the state. The Great Savior: White Family will save the toddlers, I imagine. Pathetic! And guess what, the white man had nothing to do with this one. Wait a minute! I forgot the reason for the two young men’s behavior is a result of slavery. Once again slavery is the card we have played. Why not drop down the Ace so we can ace ourselves out of this self defeating culture of... What? I can’t hear the word. Oh! That word is SILENCE.
If only we would fall in love with personal responsibility and not the lyrics from the song This is why I am Hot. If only we would as a people stop condoning foolishness. Those of you who believe we do not condone it answer this question: Why aren’t we up in arms when we commit crimes against black humanity?
‘Brian, there you go again. You are being unfair to black people.’ Okay then, I will attempt to
re-direct my finger. “Grandma Frankie, please forgive me.” Read below.
Last week, actually on the same day as the world witnessed the demise of the African American family again, Dr. Rod Paige, former Secretary of Education was on Fox news giving his progress report on the public school system. When asked what grade he would give the taxpayers school system he responded with C-. When asked what the grade would be if the Department of Education would take away the wealthiest districts of the public school system he responded with D or D-.
Maybe those two black teenagers’ behavior is a reflection of a failing school system. If the system was working they more than likely would have been at school and/or valuing the importance of reading a book. What do you think?
This one was written by a disappointed and embarrassed Muata. Inspired by the teenager who gave the 5 year old a ganja shot gun? Inspired by those black folk who were QUICK to hang the falsely accused white boys from Duke University. Inspired by little black boys who need positive black men in their homes.
The culture of silence has regulated us to a culture of personal responsibility avoidance. No one is responsible for their behavior. The “dog did it excuse” is pervasive throughout America. We have become a culture of finger pointing which will ultimately leave us in “bad shape” as Farrakhan has on numerous occasions passionately communicated to jam packed arenas full of black people.
When I was a child my grandmother faithfully stressed to me that my reputation will be determined by two things: the way I conduct myself and how I handle my problems. She told me to behave like I have some sense and to always and I repeat ALWAYS be responsible for my issues, and NEVER blame my neglectful, asinine, stupid, and ignorant behavior on “the system” or on someone else. Her basic message: “Brian, take responsibility. The issues and solutions lie within.”
Whatever happened to this type of child rearing? Where are the parents who feed this to their children? Are there any remaining? What mechanisms are in place in our public school system to foster this type of guidance? More specifically and in line with current events, where was the outcry from our black politicians, the black community, and our civic/religious leaders when two teenagers were caught red handed supplying cherry flavored marijuana blunts to two toddlers {http://youtube.com/watch?v=SPgKZOfG89Q}. I will tell you where we are: We are waddling in our inability to grab a hold of PR: Personal Responsibility. We are too busy waiting on a white person to say or do the “wrong” thing. Once again, our attention is misguided and shameful on every level. Rhetoric? Ranting? It is, but this needs to be said and read repeatedly.
When I heard about this incident I was on the road driving to one of the black community’s leading events. The CIAA basketball tournament is regarded as the premier sporting event for Historically Black Colleges and Universities. Not only is the basketball play entertaining, the action surrounding it is what I call top-notch. Yes, I am referring to the partying and networking, but I want to point out also that these all day and all night long parties are mature in nature, safe, and fun. No teen or early twenties type of drama whatsoever. At the completion of the weekend festivities I felt so proud that some fool did not pull a gun because someone stepped on his sparkling white Air Force Ones.
Anyway, as I drove up interstate 85 this ridiculous crime was shared with me by a teacher. When he finished describing what I later saw on CNN and Fox my immediate question to him was: Were the teenagers black? The impetus to this question is “deep seated” in my desire not to be embarrassed by black people’s trifling behavior. Something I constantly write and talk about with love. Something that makes me want to smack a few of my people. Something that can be prevented if WE do what needs to be done to reverse the tide of self destruction. Remember that song with those two words throughout? I believe part of the lyrics are, “we are headed for self destruction”. This was when hip-hop had a positive message and image.
What I am even more embarrassed by is our lazy and sorry-behind response. We are no where to be found on this issue. But yet, a few weeks ago we were all over the news complaining about a white man giving Barack Obama an accolade. Well, I and a few other black folk took it as a compliment. I suspect my line of thought was way off considering I was blasted by friends who thought I was not down with blackness. One person insinuated that I am recklessly critical of my people. Another friend mentioned that I was selling out.
Selling out? Well, selling out to me is when we are not flooding the internet blogs with condemnation of irresponsible behavior. Selling out is when we remain hush-hush when a black person does something imbecilic. Selling out is when our great arms of “protect the black folk from the white media” i.e. NAACP are no where to be found when devastating events like the one the world has viewed on YouTube over 160,000 times occur. Do I need to list any other examples of selling out? I shall not! I will only be accused of “hatin’ on black folk”. Watch the video and really see who is hatin' on us. Try to figure out what the black community is doing to address this opprobrious act, and you will see whose hatin' on black folk. We are doing the hatin’ as a result of our tight lips.
Back to personal responsibility. But first try to stomach the latest YouTube video that further supports my claim that black folk are becoming more and more reluctant to grabbing a hold of Personal Responsibility. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gUv3Y7f1hRc
I have personalized this commentary because I saw the devastation of four black youth last week. The two and five year olds may have been smoking weed for months. Weed heads already! The two teenagers evidently are shiftless and lack the necessary gumption to do something meaningful with their lives. What do we have as a result: the uncle and his boy will go to America’s second home for black men (prison) and the two toddlers are now wards of the state. The Great Savior: White Family will save the toddlers, I imagine. Pathetic! And guess what, the white man had nothing to do with this one. Wait a minute! I forgot the reason for the two young men’s behavior is a result of slavery. Once again slavery is the card we have played. Why not drop down the Ace so we can ace ourselves out of this self defeating culture of... What? I can’t hear the word. Oh! That word is SILENCE.
If only we would fall in love with personal responsibility and not the lyrics from the song This is why I am Hot. If only we would as a people stop condoning foolishness. Those of you who believe we do not condone it answer this question: Why aren’t we up in arms when we commit crimes against black humanity?
‘Brian, there you go again. You are being unfair to black people.’ Okay then, I will attempt to
re-direct my finger. “Grandma Frankie, please forgive me.” Read below.
Last week, actually on the same day as the world witnessed the demise of the African American family again, Dr. Rod Paige, former Secretary of Education was on Fox news giving his progress report on the public school system. When asked what grade he would give the taxpayers school system he responded with C-. When asked what the grade would be if the Department of Education would take away the wealthiest districts of the public school system he responded with D or D-.
Maybe those two black teenagers’ behavior is a reflection of a failing school system. If the system was working they more than likely would have been at school and/or valuing the importance of reading a book. What do you think?
This one was written by a disappointed and embarrassed Muata. Inspired by the teenager who gave the 5 year old a ganja shot gun? Inspired by those black folk who were QUICK to hang the falsely accused white boys from Duke University. Inspired by little black boys who need positive black men in their homes.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Barack is just another Man with Black Skin
I will not take anything away from Barack Obama and I shall not insult him, but I will say that I do believe Mr. Obama is not prepared to be the next president of these United States of America. Several of you reading are probably wondering how I can come to that conclusion and a few of you may be in agreement. For those of you in agreement, I pray you have come to your belief based on Barack’s political life, his position on various topics/issues, and his voting record in the senate. I, for one, refuse to jump on the band wagon just because he has black skin. You get that? Black skin. Not, African American. To be African American means you have had the opportunity in life to truly identify with being a black American. Barack Obama claims he “identifies” with the less fortunate and most demised people on earth, but I question this. It is my hope he eventually tells the world’s populace how he relates to being a black American man by having a white mother and Kenyan father. However, I don’t expect him to because if he does he may prove to be too black for his white fans.
Along the lines of politics, if you are “too black” in America you will never win the presidency. Being too black means you personally identify with the struggles, the plight, and the suffering of African Americans. It also means you are willing to voice your disdain or frustrations publicly without fear of losing mainstream (white) corporate and private donors. If you are light in skin tone, non-intimidating looking, possess an international viewpoint, shockingly articulate, and unwilling to officially stand up for the wrongs that continue to be perpetrated among black folk in America like Al Sharpton or Louis Farrakhan you are their man! Oh! You can’t have a perm either.
It is interesting to me that Hilary Clinton can voice her frustrations about the government’s neglect of poor black men and women without fear of ridicule or financial abandonment. She has been known to blast the government and fully support the “black cause” on countless occasions. Just like our first black president, William Jefferson Clinton! It is as if she gets a pass from her white followers. Let’s explore this for a minute. Senator Clinton, a white lady from Illinois, can rant about my disadvantages as an African American and Senator Obama can not. Is it that those white financial backers of Barack are okay with him being non-confrontational? Are they okay with him not “stirring trouble”? Do they prefer a non-agitator? Yes, they do. He is their “clean” man that helps them forget about their present and/or past racist beliefs. He makes them feel better and more comfortable. Now, for the black followers of Obama he to some degree brings feelings of pride and accomplishment despite his ancestry and upbringing. The brown skin is sufficient! But, what if he was Asian? Would black people vote for him then? No, they probably would not. The Asian will need to have a little black blood in his blood stream. Ridiculous!
Even if Barack is everything the majority wants and since his blackness is enough for blacks, America is STILL not ready for a president who is not the product of white parents. And we actually believe race relations are getting better in America. We can change minds, but we cannot change hearts and deep-seated beliefs.
America is a compilation of misguided opinions and debilitating insecurity. Regardless of race or gender the United States cannot be saved via the presidency. We are slowly, but surely heading toward a third world condition, and part of the problem is we elect our leaders because of the candidate’s skin color, rock star status, maleness, devotion to Christianity, and if he/she has smoked marijuana or not. Everything but relevant experience and the ability to lead effectively.
Written by Muata. Inspired by those people out there who will cast a presidential vote for Oprah Winfrey just because she is POPULAR. Inspired by the reading of Barack Obama's book, The Audacity of Hope.
Along the lines of politics, if you are “too black” in America you will never win the presidency. Being too black means you personally identify with the struggles, the plight, and the suffering of African Americans. It also means you are willing to voice your disdain or frustrations publicly without fear of losing mainstream (white) corporate and private donors. If you are light in skin tone, non-intimidating looking, possess an international viewpoint, shockingly articulate, and unwilling to officially stand up for the wrongs that continue to be perpetrated among black folk in America like Al Sharpton or Louis Farrakhan you are their man! Oh! You can’t have a perm either.
It is interesting to me that Hilary Clinton can voice her frustrations about the government’s neglect of poor black men and women without fear of ridicule or financial abandonment. She has been known to blast the government and fully support the “black cause” on countless occasions. Just like our first black president, William Jefferson Clinton! It is as if she gets a pass from her white followers. Let’s explore this for a minute. Senator Clinton, a white lady from Illinois, can rant about my disadvantages as an African American and Senator Obama can not. Is it that those white financial backers of Barack are okay with him being non-confrontational? Are they okay with him not “stirring trouble”? Do they prefer a non-agitator? Yes, they do. He is their “clean” man that helps them forget about their present and/or past racist beliefs. He makes them feel better and more comfortable. Now, for the black followers of Obama he to some degree brings feelings of pride and accomplishment despite his ancestry and upbringing. The brown skin is sufficient! But, what if he was Asian? Would black people vote for him then? No, they probably would not. The Asian will need to have a little black blood in his blood stream. Ridiculous!
Even if Barack is everything the majority wants and since his blackness is enough for blacks, America is STILL not ready for a president who is not the product of white parents. And we actually believe race relations are getting better in America. We can change minds, but we cannot change hearts and deep-seated beliefs.
America is a compilation of misguided opinions and debilitating insecurity. Regardless of race or gender the United States cannot be saved via the presidency. We are slowly, but surely heading toward a third world condition, and part of the problem is we elect our leaders because of the candidate’s skin color, rock star status, maleness, devotion to Christianity, and if he/she has smoked marijuana or not. Everything but relevant experience and the ability to lead effectively.
Written by Muata. Inspired by those people out there who will cast a presidential vote for Oprah Winfrey just because she is POPULAR. Inspired by the reading of Barack Obama's book, The Audacity of Hope.
Monday, January 29, 2007
A Moment of Reflection: Honoring the Black Man
Getting excited usually causes goose bumps to develop for many of us. I typically get a rush of coldness that consumes my skin. It feels like the blood streaming through my veins is 10 degrees. I love this feeling because it reminds me that I am experiencing some level of pleasure. With all the stresses of the day pleasure is something we all need in our lives.
During the latest State of the Union address I got that feeling right before President Bush walked down the isle of the capitol building chamber. The feeling intensified as he approached the podium. When he finally made it to his position to address his colleagues and the world I began to dream. In my dream I pictured President Bush as a black man. Yes, a black man. Then I continued with my fantasy imagining him with dark skin, a bald head, and a well groomed beard. He was black! I was successful at creating a president in my own image.
Lately, I have been feeling proud to be a black man. I am thankful God decided to make me black of course. However, at times watching the news can make me somewhat frustrated with my people which makes me want to pull a sheet over my head. But, not this week.
First, to see another black man who is the epitome of humility be acknowledged by the most powerful man in the universe during the State of the Union was another bone chilling experience. Dikembe Matombo is considered one of the top defensive basketball centers of all time, but this is not the way he will be remembered by us who try to look beyond someone’s athleticism. He will remain in my memory as the towering figure who was invited to stand up at the request of the President of the United States to be recognized as a humanitarian GIANT. A man who did not forget about the suffering people in the Democratic Republic of Congo while he made millions of dollars as a basketball player. He is more than the man who blocked countless jump shots while contributing his financial fortune to a foundation dedicated to the building of a hospital for the poorest of the poor: Africans. He is a man many of us need to emulate.
Second, the pride I feel about Lovie’s and Tony’s success. These two men have made history. The Super Bowl XLI teams will be lead by two black men. They represent a species that was once called useless Negroes and Black Niggers. The species that at one moment in history was not associated with intelligence. The humans who were told that they were nothing more than athletic entertainers. Now, we have proven to the world that we have the know-how to manage players with big egos and manage a game that presents complications if you are not well versed on calculated strategy. Simply put, it takes a whole lot of coaching smarts to get to the Super Bowl.
Finally, there is that regular guy on his way to work, Wesley Autrey. This black man decided to save another life by putting his life in jeopardy. How many of us would jump in the path of a New York City subway train? I must be honest; it would have to be a non-stranger for me to risk my precious life in that capacity. No, not Mr. Autrey. He did what Jesus would have done. Wow! We have so many BLACK Jesus’ walking around today. I commend Wesley Autrey. He is that man who mumbled to President Bush during the State of the Union address, “You are the man.” What a thing! Even when he was being honored he shared the praise with a man who many believe can careless about black people.
After the State of the Union, the stimulating chills were gone. I was back in the United States. I was in “my country”. A country that's knee deep in a civil war. A country that’s not ready for a black president. A place where even black people would prefer light skin over dark skin which is the reason some black folk would rather Tony Dungy’s team wins the Super Bowl. A place that’s beginning to recognize the black man’s intellectual talents and philanthropic contributions. It is also a country that needs to understand that the black man is capable of giving the ultimate sacrifice like Matombo and Autrey.
Written by Muata. Inspired by those little bumps that preceded my dream.
During the latest State of the Union address I got that feeling right before President Bush walked down the isle of the capitol building chamber. The feeling intensified as he approached the podium. When he finally made it to his position to address his colleagues and the world I began to dream. In my dream I pictured President Bush as a black man. Yes, a black man. Then I continued with my fantasy imagining him with dark skin, a bald head, and a well groomed beard. He was black! I was successful at creating a president in my own image.
Lately, I have been feeling proud to be a black man. I am thankful God decided to make me black of course. However, at times watching the news can make me somewhat frustrated with my people which makes me want to pull a sheet over my head. But, not this week.
First, to see another black man who is the epitome of humility be acknowledged by the most powerful man in the universe during the State of the Union was another bone chilling experience. Dikembe Matombo is considered one of the top defensive basketball centers of all time, but this is not the way he will be remembered by us who try to look beyond someone’s athleticism. He will remain in my memory as the towering figure who was invited to stand up at the request of the President of the United States to be recognized as a humanitarian GIANT. A man who did not forget about the suffering people in the Democratic Republic of Congo while he made millions of dollars as a basketball player. He is more than the man who blocked countless jump shots while contributing his financial fortune to a foundation dedicated to the building of a hospital for the poorest of the poor: Africans. He is a man many of us need to emulate.
Second, the pride I feel about Lovie’s and Tony’s success. These two men have made history. The Super Bowl XLI teams will be lead by two black men. They represent a species that was once called useless Negroes and Black Niggers. The species that at one moment in history was not associated with intelligence. The humans who were told that they were nothing more than athletic entertainers. Now, we have proven to the world that we have the know-how to manage players with big egos and manage a game that presents complications if you are not well versed on calculated strategy. Simply put, it takes a whole lot of coaching smarts to get to the Super Bowl.
Finally, there is that regular guy on his way to work, Wesley Autrey. This black man decided to save another life by putting his life in jeopardy. How many of us would jump in the path of a New York City subway train? I must be honest; it would have to be a non-stranger for me to risk my precious life in that capacity. No, not Mr. Autrey. He did what Jesus would have done. Wow! We have so many BLACK Jesus’ walking around today. I commend Wesley Autrey. He is that man who mumbled to President Bush during the State of the Union address, “You are the man.” What a thing! Even when he was being honored he shared the praise with a man who many believe can careless about black people.
After the State of the Union, the stimulating chills were gone. I was back in the United States. I was in “my country”. A country that's knee deep in a civil war. A country that’s not ready for a black president. A place where even black people would prefer light skin over dark skin which is the reason some black folk would rather Tony Dungy’s team wins the Super Bowl. A place that’s beginning to recognize the black man’s intellectual talents and philanthropic contributions. It is also a country that needs to understand that the black man is capable of giving the ultimate sacrifice like Matombo and Autrey.
Written by Muata. Inspired by those little bumps that preceded my dream.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
The Killing of Hussein and Williams: America's Lost
I did everything I could to limit my media intake over the past two weeks. I wanted this past holiday season to go unspoiled by bad news. Unfortunately, on January 2, 2007 I was reminded that the news is a hideous reflection of the world we live in. Murder, robbery, child molestation, corporate scandal, the dirtiness of politics, and the killing of Saddam Hussein became pieces of trash in my psyche as I sat and watched the top news stories and the nation pay respect to Gerald R. Ford.
The drive-by shooting of Denver Broncos cornerback, Darrent Williams did not make me cry. I imagine not many Americans nationwide are shedding tears over a black man getting gunned down. Typically the death of a black man does not faze us. We have always been somewhat uncaring with this type of incident; especially white people. Why would we be in mourning anyway? He was just another black man slaughtered by another brotha! Even with my lack of emotion regarding this murder I am puzzled. In a daze, wondering why didn’t I cry? What further surprised me was my response to the White House sanctioned execution of Mr. Hussein. It was the execution of Saddam that choked me up. Yes, you read that correctly. Watching Saddam be escorted to his death was my moment of weakness. I finally succumbed to my emotions. Why?
After thinking about “why” I have concluded that my tears were not for Saddam, the dictator. They were for a human being. With all our flaws, indiscretions, and those things Christians call sins mankind is still worthy of being mourned. We breathe in oxygen to live. We experience happiness and sadness. We laugh. We celebrate. And, we try to enjoy life as we did during this past holiday season. We are human! Humans who have/had a mother, father, brother, sister, uncle, auntie, grandfather and grandmother. We are Gods’ creations.
Saddam’s death solidified once again what I think about America. The land of pseudo democracy! The land of circumvented justice. The land of illusionary freedom! The land of HYPOCRISY!! For years America committed the same crime that Saddam was hanged for: Crimes against Humanity. Our government annihilated the Native Americans. Our government lynched and decapitated the black slaves. Nonetheless, not one pilgrim or slave owner was charged in the deaths of those innocent human beings. The United States presidents during the time of these Crimes against Humanity were not charged and convicted. They were allowed to continue their presidency while the killings continued on a more than regularly basis. It was a daily occurrence carried out by hateful men and women who happened to be white.
A few of you maybe wondering, ‘Not again, Muata. We already know America is littered with hypocrisy.’ I know too. However, it amazes me how we continue with accepting this behavior and mentality from our government. We have accepted it which actually regulates us to robots. You can get a robot to do anything. Robots can even be programmed to be mutes, foolish materialistic consumers, lazy reality television watchers, overeating fat boys and girls, and clueless objects. OBJECTS. Is this what we have become?
Saddam Hussein and Darrent Williams were not objects. They were men: Gods’ creations. Saddam was said to be a ruthless tyrant and a murderer, but I can think of several white men who supposedly lead this nation who are guilty of allowing America’s first inhabitants to be killed and who destroyed the black family unit. They are the same type of men who allow our young men and women to be killed over in Iraq as they fight a senseless war.
My questions for the United States Government: Who are the real criminals? What did removing and executing Saddam solve?
My concluding statement to the United States Government: Time will tell. I can’t wait for your hypocrisy to become a noose. I am ready to take that Dead Man Walking stroll with you. I will be carrying the noose.
Written by Muata. Inspired by my disdain for the United States Government. Inspired by those fools who shot and killed Mr. Williams. Inspired by those numerous people downloading the You Tube video hanging of a HUMAN BEING. Pathetic!
The drive-by shooting of Denver Broncos cornerback, Darrent Williams did not make me cry. I imagine not many Americans nationwide are shedding tears over a black man getting gunned down. Typically the death of a black man does not faze us. We have always been somewhat uncaring with this type of incident; especially white people. Why would we be in mourning anyway? He was just another black man slaughtered by another brotha! Even with my lack of emotion regarding this murder I am puzzled. In a daze, wondering why didn’t I cry? What further surprised me was my response to the White House sanctioned execution of Mr. Hussein. It was the execution of Saddam that choked me up. Yes, you read that correctly. Watching Saddam be escorted to his death was my moment of weakness. I finally succumbed to my emotions. Why?
After thinking about “why” I have concluded that my tears were not for Saddam, the dictator. They were for a human being. With all our flaws, indiscretions, and those things Christians call sins mankind is still worthy of being mourned. We breathe in oxygen to live. We experience happiness and sadness. We laugh. We celebrate. And, we try to enjoy life as we did during this past holiday season. We are human! Humans who have/had a mother, father, brother, sister, uncle, auntie, grandfather and grandmother. We are Gods’ creations.
Saddam’s death solidified once again what I think about America. The land of pseudo democracy! The land of circumvented justice. The land of illusionary freedom! The land of HYPOCRISY!! For years America committed the same crime that Saddam was hanged for: Crimes against Humanity. Our government annihilated the Native Americans. Our government lynched and decapitated the black slaves. Nonetheless, not one pilgrim or slave owner was charged in the deaths of those innocent human beings. The United States presidents during the time of these Crimes against Humanity were not charged and convicted. They were allowed to continue their presidency while the killings continued on a more than regularly basis. It was a daily occurrence carried out by hateful men and women who happened to be white.
A few of you maybe wondering, ‘Not again, Muata. We already know America is littered with hypocrisy.’ I know too. However, it amazes me how we continue with accepting this behavior and mentality from our government. We have accepted it which actually regulates us to robots. You can get a robot to do anything. Robots can even be programmed to be mutes, foolish materialistic consumers, lazy reality television watchers, overeating fat boys and girls, and clueless objects. OBJECTS. Is this what we have become?
Saddam Hussein and Darrent Williams were not objects. They were men: Gods’ creations. Saddam was said to be a ruthless tyrant and a murderer, but I can think of several white men who supposedly lead this nation who are guilty of allowing America’s first inhabitants to be killed and who destroyed the black family unit. They are the same type of men who allow our young men and women to be killed over in Iraq as they fight a senseless war.
My questions for the United States Government: Who are the real criminals? What did removing and executing Saddam solve?
My concluding statement to the United States Government: Time will tell. I can’t wait for your hypocrisy to become a noose. I am ready to take that Dead Man Walking stroll with you. I will be carrying the noose.
Written by Muata. Inspired by my disdain for the United States Government. Inspired by those fools who shot and killed Mr. Williams. Inspired by those numerous people downloading the You Tube video hanging of a HUMAN BEING. Pathetic!
Thursday, December 28, 2006
If I was preaching a New Year's Eve Sermon I would say...
Don’t get stuck in 2006: Follow the path of Revolution and Liberation
This is the time of the year when we reflect and take stock of our lives. What have I accomplished? What am I planning to do differently next year? What were some of my difficult times, and how did I respond? This is what millions of people worldwide will contemplate. We will labor over this for a brief moment as that sad song echoes in the background (http://wilstar.com/xmas/auldlangsyne.htm). We all know that song. At the completion of those few minutes a new year will be upon us, and it is that moment in time that will be critical.
Will we actually hold steadfast and true to our resolutions? Is the question we should ask ourselves. Making a resolution or commitment is pointless if we cannot do things differently than we did the previous year. Therefore, saying you will go to the gym three times a week is a wasted comment and will be a lie if you are not mentally prepared to workout before or after work. If you are not ready to get sweaty while in the gym please do not resolute to lose weight. This all sounds so simple. Nonetheless, we continue to have the same year we had the year before. The cycle does not change. Sh%t stays the same, and we get older while at the same time our lives become common place and typical.
Red Foxx in an episode of Sanford and Son said, “Us old grey dudes ain’t what we use to be.” This statement implies that there has been some level of change. It indicates that we are not in the place we were previously. Something has occurred that moved us from one point to another. Fred Sanford was referring to his age. He wanted to convey to Grady, Skillet, Leroy, and Bubba (his aging friends) that they are getting old and life is slowly, but surely coming to an end.
On Christmas day this year I was reminded by two of my best friends, Eric Johnson and Patrick Medley that we are aging and the one thing we can count on is imminent: Death. All three of us are a few years away from the big Four Zero. It was at that moment that I began to think about my life, again. You know when we look back over our lives there are instances in that time of thinking that we smile, tear-up, and/or push our chest out. Also, during this time we think about CHANGE.
There is always an opportunity for change. Most of us do not like it. We run from it and we put up barriers to prevent change, but most intelligent people understand that change is inevitable. It is bound to occur. It is those unintelligent and stubborn persons who cannot conceptualize that change is right around the corner. These are also the people who refuse to commit to a resolution. I was one of these people up until December 25, 2006 who never believed in making resolutions. However, it was something about that day that changed my mind. My impressions of resolutions were altered. Eric and Patrick know in detail what occurred. They are living witnesses of me being “moved”. Something church has been unable to do for years.
On December 31st at 11:59pm this year please think about making a change. A change for the better. If it is reading more. Do it. If it is volunteering more. Do it. If it is getting another job or opening up a new business. Do it! Just do what is necessary to receive change with open arms because A Change is Gonna Come http://www.k-state.edu/english/nelp/american.studies.s98/a.change.is.gonna.come.html. God has made that promise to us. He told the prophet Jesus to revolutionize the world. We all know with revolution comes liberation. After liberation comes change. Resolve to liberate yourself in 2007. If you don’t someone else will become the millionaire. Someone else will sculpture a sexy looking body. Someone else will read more books. Someone else will spend more time with your children. Someone else will create a personal relationship with God while you are stuck in 2006.
Written by Muata. Inspired by that one thing we can depend on: DEATH.
Inspired by that song written and recorded by Sam Cooke http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=3673.
Holla at ya boy in 07!!
This is the time of the year when we reflect and take stock of our lives. What have I accomplished? What am I planning to do differently next year? What were some of my difficult times, and how did I respond? This is what millions of people worldwide will contemplate. We will labor over this for a brief moment as that sad song echoes in the background (http://wilstar.com/xmas/auldlangsyne.htm). We all know that song. At the completion of those few minutes a new year will be upon us, and it is that moment in time that will be critical.
Will we actually hold steadfast and true to our resolutions? Is the question we should ask ourselves. Making a resolution or commitment is pointless if we cannot do things differently than we did the previous year. Therefore, saying you will go to the gym three times a week is a wasted comment and will be a lie if you are not mentally prepared to workout before or after work. If you are not ready to get sweaty while in the gym please do not resolute to lose weight. This all sounds so simple. Nonetheless, we continue to have the same year we had the year before. The cycle does not change. Sh%t stays the same, and we get older while at the same time our lives become common place and typical.
Red Foxx in an episode of Sanford and Son said, “Us old grey dudes ain’t what we use to be.” This statement implies that there has been some level of change. It indicates that we are not in the place we were previously. Something has occurred that moved us from one point to another. Fred Sanford was referring to his age. He wanted to convey to Grady, Skillet, Leroy, and Bubba (his aging friends) that they are getting old and life is slowly, but surely coming to an end.
On Christmas day this year I was reminded by two of my best friends, Eric Johnson and Patrick Medley that we are aging and the one thing we can count on is imminent: Death. All three of us are a few years away from the big Four Zero. It was at that moment that I began to think about my life, again. You know when we look back over our lives there are instances in that time of thinking that we smile, tear-up, and/or push our chest out. Also, during this time we think about CHANGE.
There is always an opportunity for change. Most of us do not like it. We run from it and we put up barriers to prevent change, but most intelligent people understand that change is inevitable. It is bound to occur. It is those unintelligent and stubborn persons who cannot conceptualize that change is right around the corner. These are also the people who refuse to commit to a resolution. I was one of these people up until December 25, 2006 who never believed in making resolutions. However, it was something about that day that changed my mind. My impressions of resolutions were altered. Eric and Patrick know in detail what occurred. They are living witnesses of me being “moved”. Something church has been unable to do for years.
On December 31st at 11:59pm this year please think about making a change. A change for the better. If it is reading more. Do it. If it is volunteering more. Do it. If it is getting another job or opening up a new business. Do it! Just do what is necessary to receive change with open arms because A Change is Gonna Come http://www.k-state.edu/english/nelp/american.studies.s98/a.change.is.gonna.come.html. God has made that promise to us. He told the prophet Jesus to revolutionize the world. We all know with revolution comes liberation. After liberation comes change. Resolve to liberate yourself in 2007. If you don’t someone else will become the millionaire. Someone else will sculpture a sexy looking body. Someone else will read more books. Someone else will spend more time with your children. Someone else will create a personal relationship with God while you are stuck in 2006.
Written by Muata. Inspired by that one thing we can depend on: DEATH.
Inspired by that song written and recorded by Sam Cooke http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=3673.
Holla at ya boy in 07!!
Thursday, December 21, 2006
The Black Man: Complex, Conflicted, and Angry
The Grief that has caused the Anger
Anger is a dangerous emotion. It is the reason why many of our brothers are in prison. They just snapped one day and could not settle back down to a calm state, so now they are in prison having to serve out a prison sentence that could have been prevented if only they learned how to channel that negativity. A negativity that often times leads to the murder of another black person. We commonly call this black on black crime when in fact the most accurate description should be The Detrimental Inability to Handle Stress.
I have mentioned numerous times that for some people handling stress can be complicated. Too many of us find ourselves in predicaments that require restraint all the time. Like when our children challenge us. A teenager can make you wanna go up side their head! All of you with teenagers or who have raised a teenager understands what I am talking about. I, myself, have not had the unfortunate opportunity to go up side the head of a rebellious and know it all teen. I don’t look forward to the act either. The act is the action that takes place: the physical violence. The impetus of the act stems from our inability at times to handle that dangerous emotion we are all capable of expressing and/or displaying.
Recently, a young lady asked me, “Why is it that men only show one emotion?” Not knowing the purpose of the question. I asked, “What emotion is that?” She immediately said, “Anger.” As I thought about her question briefly I began to remember the sport highlights from this past weekend: T.O. spit in DeAngelo Hall’s face and the Knicks and Nuggets fight. In both incidents black men where unsuccessful at maintaining composure. They lost it. T.O. even admitted he was frustrated and it was obvious by the way the so called professional basketball players responded to each other that frustration was the culprit. No matter how stressed and frustrated we get there is no reason to sucker punch or spit saliva in the face of another human being.
So, what do we do as men with this emotion? How do we release it without physical brutality? Well, ride with me as I attempt to breakdown this down by using my sophomore year of Psychology 101.
I am of the belief that black men are grieving. We are in or were in the stages of grief at different times. This grief could stem from neglect from our fathers, rejection from a woman, embarrassment as a result of sharing our feelings, constant discredit from “the man” at work, and/or our failures. This grief can last all of our lives and some times go undetected until we finally take stock of our lives. All the time we spend avoiding that moment to assess our lives we are literally living in denial. We deny that there is a problem by tossing our issues up as life situations. As life situations continue to haunt us we eventually become angry with life which leads to displays of anger that’s usually directed at the people who are truly in our corner: our girlfriends and wives. For years we can demean our partners without ever getting to the point of bargaining. Bargaining is the place we need to be in because the bargaining phase typically helps us understand that we have a problem. The problem is the inability to deal with the grief. After the bargaining is over we are moving toward our freedom, but the freedom is at a cost. The cost is depression. We have to go through it to come out on top. The depression can be deadly, however. Many of us men address depression via the bottle, with unlimited sex partners, and by participating in other reckless behavior. If we make it through the depression without crashing a car while intoxicated or without contracting HIV we are home free. Crossing the threshold of freedom means we are in the acceptance mode now. We have accepted whatever caused the grief. The neglect, rejection, embarrassment, and discredit are no longer barriers.
This is my lengthy response to the young lady who asked me the question. It is a question I will always think about because many of us (men) are plagued by this emotion. Even myself. As anger consumed me over the years I disrespected women, alienated myself, and dabbled in dangerous behavior. One day I woke up and discovered I was alone. There was no one to share my good life with. Yes, it was still good because I was successful and at the time acquired all the things I wanted out of life. However, like numerous men I was still alone. Confined to myself. Consumed by rage, and full of self hatred.
Those fellas on the basketball court where in a rage. All ten of them. Stress and frustration from the game consumed them. Terrell Owens is a prisoner. He is in jail with a mirror to face every single day. He does not see what all these women see. They see his dark skin, athletic framed body, shiny white teeth, and dimples. Unfortunately, Terrell sees what he hates: The Grief that has caused the Anger.
Written by Muata. Inspired by Carmelo Anthony’s sucker punch (did you notice that Carmelo ran after he threw the punch? What a Punk!). Inspired by that reflection in the mirror.
Anger is a dangerous emotion. It is the reason why many of our brothers are in prison. They just snapped one day and could not settle back down to a calm state, so now they are in prison having to serve out a prison sentence that could have been prevented if only they learned how to channel that negativity. A negativity that often times leads to the murder of another black person. We commonly call this black on black crime when in fact the most accurate description should be The Detrimental Inability to Handle Stress.
I have mentioned numerous times that for some people handling stress can be complicated. Too many of us find ourselves in predicaments that require restraint all the time. Like when our children challenge us. A teenager can make you wanna go up side their head! All of you with teenagers or who have raised a teenager understands what I am talking about. I, myself, have not had the unfortunate opportunity to go up side the head of a rebellious and know it all teen. I don’t look forward to the act either. The act is the action that takes place: the physical violence. The impetus of the act stems from our inability at times to handle that dangerous emotion we are all capable of expressing and/or displaying.
Recently, a young lady asked me, “Why is it that men only show one emotion?” Not knowing the purpose of the question. I asked, “What emotion is that?” She immediately said, “Anger.” As I thought about her question briefly I began to remember the sport highlights from this past weekend: T.O. spit in DeAngelo Hall’s face and the Knicks and Nuggets fight. In both incidents black men where unsuccessful at maintaining composure. They lost it. T.O. even admitted he was frustrated and it was obvious by the way the so called professional basketball players responded to each other that frustration was the culprit. No matter how stressed and frustrated we get there is no reason to sucker punch or spit saliva in the face of another human being.
So, what do we do as men with this emotion? How do we release it without physical brutality? Well, ride with me as I attempt to breakdown this down by using my sophomore year of Psychology 101.
I am of the belief that black men are grieving. We are in or were in the stages of grief at different times. This grief could stem from neglect from our fathers, rejection from a woman, embarrassment as a result of sharing our feelings, constant discredit from “the man” at work, and/or our failures. This grief can last all of our lives and some times go undetected until we finally take stock of our lives. All the time we spend avoiding that moment to assess our lives we are literally living in denial. We deny that there is a problem by tossing our issues up as life situations. As life situations continue to haunt us we eventually become angry with life which leads to displays of anger that’s usually directed at the people who are truly in our corner: our girlfriends and wives. For years we can demean our partners without ever getting to the point of bargaining. Bargaining is the place we need to be in because the bargaining phase typically helps us understand that we have a problem. The problem is the inability to deal with the grief. After the bargaining is over we are moving toward our freedom, but the freedom is at a cost. The cost is depression. We have to go through it to come out on top. The depression can be deadly, however. Many of us men address depression via the bottle, with unlimited sex partners, and by participating in other reckless behavior. If we make it through the depression without crashing a car while intoxicated or without contracting HIV we are home free. Crossing the threshold of freedom means we are in the acceptance mode now. We have accepted whatever caused the grief. The neglect, rejection, embarrassment, and discredit are no longer barriers.
This is my lengthy response to the young lady who asked me the question. It is a question I will always think about because many of us (men) are plagued by this emotion. Even myself. As anger consumed me over the years I disrespected women, alienated myself, and dabbled in dangerous behavior. One day I woke up and discovered I was alone. There was no one to share my good life with. Yes, it was still good because I was successful and at the time acquired all the things I wanted out of life. However, like numerous men I was still alone. Confined to myself. Consumed by rage, and full of self hatred.
Those fellas on the basketball court where in a rage. All ten of them. Stress and frustration from the game consumed them. Terrell Owens is a prisoner. He is in jail with a mirror to face every single day. He does not see what all these women see. They see his dark skin, athletic framed body, shiny white teeth, and dimples. Unfortunately, Terrell sees what he hates: The Grief that has caused the Anger.
Written by Muata. Inspired by Carmelo Anthony’s sucker punch (did you notice that Carmelo ran after he threw the punch? What a Punk!). Inspired by that reflection in the mirror.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
LOVE HAS ALWAYS BEEN THE ANSWER
1 Corinthians 13
If I talk with the tongues of men and even of angels, but if I do not love people, then I am only like the sound of a big horn or a loud bell. If I speak words from God, if I can understand all secrets, and know everything, if I can move mountains by believing, but if I do not love people, I am nothing, even though I can do all of these things. If I give away all I have, and if I give my body to be burned, but if I do not love people, I get nothing out of it. Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous. Love is not proud and does not boast. Love does not do things that are not nice. Love does not just think of itself. Love does not get angry. Love holds no wrong feelings in the heart. Love is not glad when people do wrong things. But it is always glad when they do right. Love forgives everything. Love is always trusting, and always hoping, and never gives up. Love never ends. The gift of speaking words from God will end. The gift of speaking in different tongues or languages will stop. The gift of knowing many things will end. Now we know only a little, and we can speak only a little of God's words. But when everything becomes perfect, that part will come to an end.
Corinthians’ Description of Love: We can get there
It is not too often that men will share with others their feelings regarding love. Actually, men and women these days rarely use the word in the most accurate context. Saying you love someone is powerful. Saying you are in love is even more powerful!
I have told three girlfriends that I loved them, and on each occasion I meant it. There was no doubt about it. I felt it! Of course my future dictated something totally different because I am no longer with either one of them. These three wonderful black women brought joy and happiness into my life for a season. They were additional blessings for me. Without experiencing what I believed love to be with them I would be somewhat incomplete! Love is that significant for us. It is something that should be cherished and honored. Without it all of us would be void of God’s most precious gift.
Back to the love I’ve experienced.
The love I had for Pretty Eyes, Juicy, and Mango consumed me. I remember the so called stomach aches: the butterflies. The excitement I had when my phone would ring. I just wanted it to be the one who I told I love you to three hours before on the other end of the phone. She was my world, and all I needed was her. How I occasionally miss those days, but fear them also. Yes, fear them.
Now that I am a survivor of the pain love causes. And, now that I have somewhat of a better understanding of love I really want to experience it in its truest form before I checkout of here. The scripture above is a definitive definition of love (even I am willing to give the bible its props when deserved). The biblical description of what love is suppose to be makes me wonder if we are able to adhere to it. Can we? Think about what it requires. Now, think about how much peace we would have if we truly could do what Paul, the writer of Corinthians has suggested. Oh, what a treat this would be! To love with all our heart without fear of the heart being crushed. Oh, how different this world would be! To love without the fear of betrayal. To love without fear of being played. To love without fear of being disappointed. To love without fear of being embarrassed.
Lord, how I wish all of us could love with the capacity you mandate!
Don’t you desire this type of love? I do! I want this type of freedom. Too many of us are living day to day lonely and heart broken; and never experiencing any type of freedom. The songwriter wrote, “I wanna be free.” But, how many of us are prepared for this freedom? Can we even receive the ultimate true love?
If you believe in God you know that He has been good to us. He has given all of us the tools we need to be loved and to love someone, but some where in our evolvement we have forgotten how to love and be loved. We have been caught-up by the “feelings” and not the common sense that should be used when having the “feelings”. A friend of mine told me, “Brian, love is secondary and compatibility is primary.” Let’s explore his statement. What are we suppose to do with those “feelings” we have for each other if compatibility should be established first? What makes us stop the calls we make over and over again just to hear her/his voice? What do we do with those thoughts we have while at work or before bed time? My answer: table the thoughts and feelings until a compatibility review is conducted. Easier said than done! I realize that. We all know the fleshly pulsating that tempts us. Nonetheless, I am convinced those “feelings” fade over time. Even the pulsating ones.
Many of us think we can rejuvenate the love we have for our significant others at the drop of a dime. Considering the divorce rate and unhappy people who are married this rejuvenation is not working.
Landing that girlfriend or boyfriend has a lot to do with understanding yourself and understanding what you are able to endure from that person. Enduring should be thought of in the positive sense here. To endure means to bear without resistance or with patience; to tolerate. Conducting the compatibility review is not resisting the love. It is fusing in mind clarity (common sense). Temporarily halting those feelings that typically lead us into the bed is being patient. Tolerating each other once together as a couple is not all that bad. We all must tolerate some things to be successful. This is called compromise.
Don’t you want to be successful at loving someone? Lord knows I do and any man my age who tells you something to the contrary is lying. He wants to be sprung and in true love just as much as most women do. Actually, the men I know who are 30 plus are tired of the playing. Our only issue is fear and the inability to conduct a real self analysis.
The conqueror. The man. The head wants to experience this peace and freedom. (Brotha’s, we can’t get to this place with da games). It is my prayer men acquire peace and freedom the next time around. It is also my prayer a woman’s motivation to get married is not tied to the biological clock, the excitement weddings generate, and/or the “need” to have a man. If we truly marry for compatibility and Corinthians’ brand of love maybe the American family will be strengthen.
Written by Muata. Inspired by the feelings I had for Sparky. Lord knows I loved that dog.
Happy Holidays!
If I talk with the tongues of men and even of angels, but if I do not love people, then I am only like the sound of a big horn or a loud bell. If I speak words from God, if I can understand all secrets, and know everything, if I can move mountains by believing, but if I do not love people, I am nothing, even though I can do all of these things. If I give away all I have, and if I give my body to be burned, but if I do not love people, I get nothing out of it. Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous. Love is not proud and does not boast. Love does not do things that are not nice. Love does not just think of itself. Love does not get angry. Love holds no wrong feelings in the heart. Love is not glad when people do wrong things. But it is always glad when they do right. Love forgives everything. Love is always trusting, and always hoping, and never gives up. Love never ends. The gift of speaking words from God will end. The gift of speaking in different tongues or languages will stop. The gift of knowing many things will end. Now we know only a little, and we can speak only a little of God's words. But when everything becomes perfect, that part will come to an end.
Corinthians’ Description of Love: We can get there
It is not too often that men will share with others their feelings regarding love. Actually, men and women these days rarely use the word in the most accurate context. Saying you love someone is powerful. Saying you are in love is even more powerful!
I have told three girlfriends that I loved them, and on each occasion I meant it. There was no doubt about it. I felt it! Of course my future dictated something totally different because I am no longer with either one of them. These three wonderful black women brought joy and happiness into my life for a season. They were additional blessings for me. Without experiencing what I believed love to be with them I would be somewhat incomplete! Love is that significant for us. It is something that should be cherished and honored. Without it all of us would be void of God’s most precious gift.
Back to the love I’ve experienced.
The love I had for Pretty Eyes, Juicy, and Mango consumed me. I remember the so called stomach aches: the butterflies. The excitement I had when my phone would ring. I just wanted it to be the one who I told I love you to three hours before on the other end of the phone. She was my world, and all I needed was her. How I occasionally miss those days, but fear them also. Yes, fear them.
Now that I am a survivor of the pain love causes. And, now that I have somewhat of a better understanding of love I really want to experience it in its truest form before I checkout of here. The scripture above is a definitive definition of love (even I am willing to give the bible its props when deserved). The biblical description of what love is suppose to be makes me wonder if we are able to adhere to it. Can we? Think about what it requires. Now, think about how much peace we would have if we truly could do what Paul, the writer of Corinthians has suggested. Oh, what a treat this would be! To love with all our heart without fear of the heart being crushed. Oh, how different this world would be! To love without the fear of betrayal. To love without fear of being played. To love without fear of being disappointed. To love without fear of being embarrassed.
Lord, how I wish all of us could love with the capacity you mandate!
Don’t you desire this type of love? I do! I want this type of freedom. Too many of us are living day to day lonely and heart broken; and never experiencing any type of freedom. The songwriter wrote, “I wanna be free.” But, how many of us are prepared for this freedom? Can we even receive the ultimate true love?
If you believe in God you know that He has been good to us. He has given all of us the tools we need to be loved and to love someone, but some where in our evolvement we have forgotten how to love and be loved. We have been caught-up by the “feelings” and not the common sense that should be used when having the “feelings”. A friend of mine told me, “Brian, love is secondary and compatibility is primary.” Let’s explore his statement. What are we suppose to do with those “feelings” we have for each other if compatibility should be established first? What makes us stop the calls we make over and over again just to hear her/his voice? What do we do with those thoughts we have while at work or before bed time? My answer: table the thoughts and feelings until a compatibility review is conducted. Easier said than done! I realize that. We all know the fleshly pulsating that tempts us. Nonetheless, I am convinced those “feelings” fade over time. Even the pulsating ones.
Many of us think we can rejuvenate the love we have for our significant others at the drop of a dime. Considering the divorce rate and unhappy people who are married this rejuvenation is not working.
Landing that girlfriend or boyfriend has a lot to do with understanding yourself and understanding what you are able to endure from that person. Enduring should be thought of in the positive sense here. To endure means to bear without resistance or with patience; to tolerate. Conducting the compatibility review is not resisting the love. It is fusing in mind clarity (common sense). Temporarily halting those feelings that typically lead us into the bed is being patient. Tolerating each other once together as a couple is not all that bad. We all must tolerate some things to be successful. This is called compromise.
Don’t you want to be successful at loving someone? Lord knows I do and any man my age who tells you something to the contrary is lying. He wants to be sprung and in true love just as much as most women do. Actually, the men I know who are 30 plus are tired of the playing. Our only issue is fear and the inability to conduct a real self analysis.
The conqueror. The man. The head wants to experience this peace and freedom. (Brotha’s, we can’t get to this place with da games). It is my prayer men acquire peace and freedom the next time around. It is also my prayer a woman’s motivation to get married is not tied to the biological clock, the excitement weddings generate, and/or the “need” to have a man. If we truly marry for compatibility and Corinthians’ brand of love maybe the American family will be strengthen.
Written by Muata. Inspired by the feelings I had for Sparky. Lord knows I loved that dog.
Happy Holidays!
Thursday, November 30, 2006
A Man’s Occupational Aspiration and Need: Pimp and Prostitute
Colonial Drive Elementary School was the stomping ground for my primary school education. It was a place that sheltered us little black and white kids from the world. The teachers were so protective and so caring. They were extensions of our mothers and fathers. In all of their efforts to guide us they routinely asked us in open forum the following question: What do you want to be when you grow up? Still to this day I remember various teachers cornering me with this question and demanding an answer. It was their way of “keeping us on track”. I also recall the litany of responses that were murmured by my fellow third and fourth graders. The professions doctor, lawyer, policeman, teacher, etc. were yelled with passion and confidence. Those were the good ole days when even an eight year old could NOT get away with saying something innocent, but borderline disrespectful. The disrespect I am speaking of is Brian’s response to the question: What do you want to be when you grow up? My response: A Pimp!
For years, I have often wondered why I responded with A Pimp. My uncles were not pimps and I never knew what a pimp really was until I entered middle school. I believe the introduction to pimp ‘in was mentally formulized for me while “devilishly” watching R rated movies. You know those 70’s movies that glorified a black man with a big black Cadillac and numerous women running up to the car to touch his fur coat? It was those scenes that captured my attention. I was infatuated with the power this man appeared to have. Women and a big car equaled: Pimp ‘in. What young brother did not care to have a big car and plenty of women at his disposal when he was growing up? Fellas, don’t answer that? Keep reading.
I can only speak for myself; this was the epitome of success. Not only was this brother able to convince women to sleep with other men, he also got a portion of the payment. Easy money!! How I wish my 8 to10 hour days generated easy money. No dice for me! I have to deal with whining employees on the regular. The loot does not come effortlessly. And, another thing that does not come easy for me is my understanding of the black culture’s continued fascination with pimps and the pimp ‘in lifestyle.
Pimps up, Ho’s Down. You remember that documentary. I do. The featured pimps were the shyt and their prostitutes were controlled. Hold up! Maybe I am on to something: The pimps were the shyt and the prostitutes were controlled. How often are we (men) trying to be the man? The coolest cat? The most fly? The one with the most materialization? And, how often are we attempting to be in control? In control of our manhood? In control of our man of the house status? And yes, even in control of our women.
Is the pimp always in control? He never gets his hands dirty unless his flock gets out of line. The pimp is the reservoir for the money. The savings account is in his glove compartment. The prostitute is the work horse. She is getting the dollars while on her back and/or knees. However, I believe the prostitute is the one who is really in control while the pimp and the John are thinking they are the SHYT. Why do I think this? Not sure. But, I am sure that a man wants to be in control. So, ladies, why not let him be your “pimp”. Rub his fur coat (stroke his ego). If you are not doing this ladies, part of the pimp is bound to come out of him in some way or another i.e. getting a woman that will be his personal prostitute who understands the necessity of ego stroking.
Written by Muata. Inspired by that fourth grade teacher that threw me out of class for proudly saying: “I want to be a pimp when I grow up.” Inspired by that woman out there who has mastered the stroke. Bless your heart!
For years, I have often wondered why I responded with A Pimp. My uncles were not pimps and I never knew what a pimp really was until I entered middle school. I believe the introduction to pimp ‘in was mentally formulized for me while “devilishly” watching R rated movies. You know those 70’s movies that glorified a black man with a big black Cadillac and numerous women running up to the car to touch his fur coat? It was those scenes that captured my attention. I was infatuated with the power this man appeared to have. Women and a big car equaled: Pimp ‘in. What young brother did not care to have a big car and plenty of women at his disposal when he was growing up? Fellas, don’t answer that? Keep reading.
I can only speak for myself; this was the epitome of success. Not only was this brother able to convince women to sleep with other men, he also got a portion of the payment. Easy money!! How I wish my 8 to10 hour days generated easy money. No dice for me! I have to deal with whining employees on the regular. The loot does not come effortlessly. And, another thing that does not come easy for me is my understanding of the black culture’s continued fascination with pimps and the pimp ‘in lifestyle.
Pimps up, Ho’s Down. You remember that documentary. I do. The featured pimps were the shyt and their prostitutes were controlled. Hold up! Maybe I am on to something: The pimps were the shyt and the prostitutes were controlled. How often are we (men) trying to be the man? The coolest cat? The most fly? The one with the most materialization? And, how often are we attempting to be in control? In control of our manhood? In control of our man of the house status? And yes, even in control of our women.
Is the pimp always in control? He never gets his hands dirty unless his flock gets out of line. The pimp is the reservoir for the money. The savings account is in his glove compartment. The prostitute is the work horse. She is getting the dollars while on her back and/or knees. However, I believe the prostitute is the one who is really in control while the pimp and the John are thinking they are the SHYT. Why do I think this? Not sure. But, I am sure that a man wants to be in control. So, ladies, why not let him be your “pimp”. Rub his fur coat (stroke his ego). If you are not doing this ladies, part of the pimp is bound to come out of him in some way or another i.e. getting a woman that will be his personal prostitute who understands the necessity of ego stroking.
Written by Muata. Inspired by that fourth grade teacher that threw me out of class for proudly saying: “I want to be a pimp when I grow up.” Inspired by that woman out there who has mastered the stroke. Bless your heart!
Friday, November 17, 2006
Once upon a time there was a Porch Monkey
If you know me you perfectly understand that I have recently become a football watching fan. In the past I definitely enjoyed watching the phenomenal athleticism that’s displayed on Thursday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. I even enjoy Friday night football. The high schoolers are a treat to watch also. You would think I am overloaded with football, but I am not. I still have time to tend to my son and write commentaries. Nothing will change that. However, what has changed is my attitude concerning the commercialization of football and one educational disparity between the athletes.
At one point in my life I was okay with the hype that infiltrates college campuses and cities that have professional football teams. The excitement is intoxicating! The tailgating, gatherings at team fanatics’ homes, and the packed sports bars are enough to literally change a city for a day. The athletic event brings people together for three hours. The world’s problems are suspended in time for a brief moment. We become one. One in attitude and behavior. We are die hard fans who wants the Dolphins to whip-up on the Ravens. While we are celebrating, eating, betting, and drinking, someone out there is making MILLIONS of dollars at the expense of us and the stallions on the field. Someone is adding to their net worth while we bounce around declaring “The Steelers is MY team.”
Now, don’t let me steal your joy. Continue to be a fan. I will! The College Bowl Series is coming up and the Super Bowl is around the corner in Miami! But, I plan to re-incorporate a few facts back into my thinking process. I have allowed my mind to be clouded with Plaxico Burress’s one handed catches for far too long.
There is one major reason why I wrote this piece: an alarming study that was just shared with me. The study reinforced elements surrounding education and sports I already knew. Nonetheless, they are worth sharing. Hopefully, we will be reminded of the statistics as we jump with felicity while Reggie Bush dives into the end zone from the five yard line.
*The study shows that 72 percent of the white players who signed with the University of Georgia between 1996-1999 earned their diploma within six years, compared with just 24 percent of black athletes.
*There was a similar disparity at Georgia Tech, where white football players had a 72 percent graduation success rate. Blacks were at 41 percent.
Where should we attribute the blame? The black athlete, the black parents, or the schools? Of course there is a reason for the statistics. To help you understand the magnitude of the percentages and in an effort to share a redeeming story that can be shared with young black youth give me five more minutes of your time.
Once upon a time an 18yr old black man decided to go to a small predominantly white college to run track. He was recruited to run track, not to get an education. Getting an education was the last thing on his mind because he wanted to run track, not study. He wanted to share his dynamic jumping ability and speed by hurdling over a 42 inch high barrier. He was to be a hurdler, not a student. After only receiving a combined SAT score of 550; after his second semester of running track as a red shirt freshman; and after earning a 0.8 GPA at the close of that semester he began to rethink his purpose for going to college. He went to run track, not to be a student. Remember? After this horrible academic year he decided to buckle down and not embarrass his high school teachers any longer. He became a student, and not a black jock. He stayed at the same college. By the end of his five years at the white school he was a scholar athlete who graduated with a 3.4 grade point average. He became a leader on campus. He also completed an impressive track and field career. He became a 5 time all American athlete. This black man is yours truly.
I don’t share this story to be egotistical. I am sharing it because it is my “testimony”. In church we are told, “A testimony can save a life”. It is my sincere hope that this story will be shared with more black kids. They need to know that education is our most precious asset. Running up and down a field is fine. Black football players have made millions, and some have put some of the money made back into something good. There are countless examples. However, we (black folk) are still lacking in the most important area of life: Education. Jesus, Cadillac’s, and overpriced homes with cheap carpet will not save us. Some meaningful form of education is our gateway to a better life. If only we valued education like the Chinese. If only we yearned to learn the complexities of algebra and geometry. If only we stop depending on schools “to graduate” our black men. If only we were prepared to die for what our ancestors died for us to have:
An Education.
Shouldn’t the purpose be to graduate your self?
Written by Muata. Inspired by that young black boy who is encouraged to read instead of being trained to be a Porch Monkey.
Monday, October 30, 2006
The African American Vote: Is it Time for a Change?
For years I have voted for candidates that supposedly held some compassion towards African American issues. These are somewhat the same issues that plagued my mother’s generation. High unemployment, home purchasing dilemmas, infestation of drugs in the community, mediocre education standards, and inadequate health care services are only a few of the problems African Americans faced in the 70’s and 80’s. In 2006, we still combat issues that we thought our elected democrat officials would help eradicate or improve. It has been over 30 years, and many of us are still waiting on the results from our parents’ votes. Waiting and waiting! But yet, I have foolishly remained steadfast to the Democratic Party. You can say that I and millions of other black people nationwide have been overwhelmingly loyal to the Democrat Donkey. A donkey that is not truly deserving of our most precious political power: Our votes.
I have done the research and I have discovered that the democrats have introduced bills and legislation that’s helped African Americans “survive” in the United States in the past thirty years. We are able to purchase homes, but there remains to be systems in place that encourages predatory lending and unnecessary home purchasing profiling. We are getting paid more, but the majority of us are well below the poverty line. We have access to “equal” education, but the schools in most urban centers are underserved. There is so much that African Americans have not addressed with our democrat city councilmen, mayors, and congressmen. However, we continue to elect them to represent us. The Democrat Donkey loyalty is in affect with no holistic improvements for black people.
This commentary was not written by a declared Black Republican. It was written by a conservative thinking black man who is just now fully conceptualizing the power and complete meaning of his vote. Yeah, I know what you are saying. ‘Muata, what are you talking about? Our (black people) voting has always been important.’ Of course it has. Nonetheless, voting if you think critically about it has not completely produced the outcomes expected by our ancestors. Yes, it is a right many of them sacrificed their wellbeing for us to have. And, I agree if you are not utilizing this right you have no regard for the black struggle. However, it appears our vote is taken for granted by the Hilary Clintons and Howard Deans. I believe a vote taken for granted, is a vote not worthy of submission. But, where will that leave us? Who should get our vote?
My answer to the last question: Not all the democrats. Voting a straight democrat ticket lacks conscientious forethought and it is borderline lazy unless you are TRULY certain all the democrats agendas are in step with your ideals, beliefs, and expectations. Why not consider voting for a republican who supports No Child Left Behind; favors President Bush’s HIV/AIDS initiative; wants to eliminate unnecessary governmental spending; advocates for an overhaul of the United States government’s workforce; champions personal accountability/responsibility; prefers to lock-up and throw away the key for violent habitual felons; and who has a plan for getting out of Iraq?
I believe it is time for a change. Casting a democrat ballot may not be our answer. Voting strategically is.
Please exercise the right your ancestors died for you to have! If you don’t vote, keep your mouth closed when a decision is made that will negatively affect your standard of living in the United States of America.
Written by Muata. Inspired by Maryland’s Lt. Governor Michael Steele, a Black Republican and senate candidate.
I have done the research and I have discovered that the democrats have introduced bills and legislation that’s helped African Americans “survive” in the United States in the past thirty years. We are able to purchase homes, but there remains to be systems in place that encourages predatory lending and unnecessary home purchasing profiling. We are getting paid more, but the majority of us are well below the poverty line. We have access to “equal” education, but the schools in most urban centers are underserved. There is so much that African Americans have not addressed with our democrat city councilmen, mayors, and congressmen. However, we continue to elect them to represent us. The Democrat Donkey loyalty is in affect with no holistic improvements for black people.
This commentary was not written by a declared Black Republican. It was written by a conservative thinking black man who is just now fully conceptualizing the power and complete meaning of his vote. Yeah, I know what you are saying. ‘Muata, what are you talking about? Our (black people) voting has always been important.’ Of course it has. Nonetheless, voting if you think critically about it has not completely produced the outcomes expected by our ancestors. Yes, it is a right many of them sacrificed their wellbeing for us to have. And, I agree if you are not utilizing this right you have no regard for the black struggle. However, it appears our vote is taken for granted by the Hilary Clintons and Howard Deans. I believe a vote taken for granted, is a vote not worthy of submission. But, where will that leave us? Who should get our vote?
My answer to the last question: Not all the democrats. Voting a straight democrat ticket lacks conscientious forethought and it is borderline lazy unless you are TRULY certain all the democrats agendas are in step with your ideals, beliefs, and expectations. Why not consider voting for a republican who supports No Child Left Behind; favors President Bush’s HIV/AIDS initiative; wants to eliminate unnecessary governmental spending; advocates for an overhaul of the United States government’s workforce; champions personal accountability/responsibility; prefers to lock-up and throw away the key for violent habitual felons; and who has a plan for getting out of Iraq?
I believe it is time for a change. Casting a democrat ballot may not be our answer. Voting strategically is.
Please exercise the right your ancestors died for you to have! If you don’t vote, keep your mouth closed when a decision is made that will negatively affect your standard of living in the United States of America.
Written by Muata. Inspired by Maryland’s Lt. Governor Michael Steele, a Black Republican and senate candidate.
Monday, October 16, 2006
The Demise of our Society: Mr. Special, Ms. It ain’t my fault, and Mr. Baggy Pants
I have been told that there is a new attitude out there. New behavior. A new way to respond. It is rooted in they way young people (teenagers and 20 somethings) function when they do not get what they want. This new thing is called Sense of Entitlement.
I first recognized this type of behavior with my son when he was a toddler. I could not understand why Judah could not comprehend that he was not going to get everything he wanted and that everything was not going to go his way. He actually believed he was entitled to EVERYTHING. Now, let me remind you that I am referring to my son when he was a toddler and present day young adults. I am comparing behavior and attitude with a toddler and a 20 something. Do you understand? Do you find this absurd? If you do, please know that I also find it ridiculous. Nonetheless, the following statement from a psychiatrist confirms my thought process on the subject:
“This attitude is normally seen in toddlers, who want what they want and they want it now. Every parent has had to deal with this kind of whining. When you see this attitude repeatedly in an adult, then you know you are dealing with psychopathology. Many adults whimper at the slightest inconvenience, delay, or restriction. Why? Because, like toddlers, they are convinced they deserve what they want when they want it. They are "entitled" to it.”
I guess America is full of toddlers in adult bodies. What do you think, or are we making excuses once again for our self serving, self righteous, self centered, and uncaring behavior? Do we (adults) actually believe whining will get us out of the traffic we do not have to be in? Do we believe that if we continue to shift responsibility on someone or something else that our whimpering will get us what we feel we deserve?
This new attitude is destructive, and it has gotten on my last nerve! What does that 23 year old think America owes him? What does the eighteen year old think she is entitled to? Someone please tell me. What makes these rude young people believe they are Mr. Special? Where did we go wrong with raising these people who appear to have it all together, but truly cannot function appropriately or adequately when confronted with real life events? And, this is the kicker: These young so called adults do not take any responsibility for their behavior. Just like the Ms. 30 something-It ain’t my fault. Interesting: we have teenagers and 20 year olds who are of the belief that they are entitled and we have that thirty-five year old who does not comprehend personal responsibility.
Are we so far to the left and/or to the right in our thinking that we blatantly refuse to take responsibility for our actions, and then believe it is okay? Think about the last time you did something stupid. Did you accept the fact that you made the decision to do that stupid act/thing after you realized what you did was dumb, or was it someone else’s fault?
I have to admit as a 30 something person that there have been several occasions where I conveniently developed an excuse for doing something STUPID, but failed to take responsibility for it. Like that time I purchased a car knowing full well that I could not afford the monthly car note. For those of you who grew up with me: It was the white and black Impulse. I may have told you at the time that my cousin took over the payments. I lied. That car was repossessed. Like that time I decided I was not going to file taxes for two years. I just refused to. "Damn the government." That was my attitude. How stupid was that? But, guess what: I blamed the IRS for my asinine act after they began to garnish funds from my government salary. Boy, was I an idiot! I neglected to take responsibility in both occurrences for my actions.
There have been numerous other irresponsible things that I have done. I can go on and on. However, there is one thing that I do not understand: Why do we continue to put ourselves in bad situations and then point the finger at the man, the system, our parents, our teachers, our childhoods, and for us black folk: why is slavery our reasoning for all our problems?
If you are black and refuse to accept the truth about us you may want to stop reading now. Don’t worry I do not have much to say. I have aired our dirty laundry before (http://muatatruthtelling.blogspot.com/2006/02/black-folks-laundry-it-is-dirty.html)
I will bullet point my truths. Continue to read.
-If you are illiterate it is your fault.
-If you sell drugs “the man” did not force you to poison your community.
-If you wonder why white people think we are all thugs and whores just spend 10 minutes watching BET.
-If you are not promoted at work maybe you should adhere to the man’s rules i.e. get to work on time.
-If you are “profiled” in a store that’s operated by a Korean, and the owner eyeballs you the entire time you are in his store you better believe one of us has ripped him off before.
-If you have ever thought about why there are so many black men in prison please do consider the judicial system is the blame for wrongfully putting them there, but also consider the brotha on the corner did rob the white tourist.
-If you devalue education and glorify rims, $200 jeans, Moet, overpriced seafood (Spondivits), and other foolishness you need to run a self check.
Probably every one of you reading this commentary are more than likely saying: ‘Muata, the list above does not apply to me.’ I know this, man! But, I guarantee you someone in your family or close to your family could benefit from the list. Even if it just serves as a reminder of their behavior they should read it because the list is a sad depiction of black folk not taking PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY.
I am so disgusted with us and our excuses. You can call it rhetoric (I am full of truthful rhetoric), but you know as well as I do that this “blame game” has to end. Mr. Baggy Pants needs to pull up his Rocawear jeans and stop being a jackass.
Most of our mommas did not raise fools!!
*All my Asian, Hispanic, Native American, African American and white readers please share this commentary with every Black person you know.
Written by Muata. Inspired by my friend that said: “On occasion, I am ashamed of being black.” Inspired by Jesse Jackson’s comment: “There is nothing more painful to me at this stage in my life than to walk down the street and hear footsteps and start thinking about robbery and then look around and see somebody white and feel relieved.”
I first recognized this type of behavior with my son when he was a toddler. I could not understand why Judah could not comprehend that he was not going to get everything he wanted and that everything was not going to go his way. He actually believed he was entitled to EVERYTHING. Now, let me remind you that I am referring to my son when he was a toddler and present day young adults. I am comparing behavior and attitude with a toddler and a 20 something. Do you understand? Do you find this absurd? If you do, please know that I also find it ridiculous. Nonetheless, the following statement from a psychiatrist confirms my thought process on the subject:
“This attitude is normally seen in toddlers, who want what they want and they want it now. Every parent has had to deal with this kind of whining. When you see this attitude repeatedly in an adult, then you know you are dealing with psychopathology. Many adults whimper at the slightest inconvenience, delay, or restriction. Why? Because, like toddlers, they are convinced they deserve what they want when they want it. They are "entitled" to it.”
I guess America is full of toddlers in adult bodies. What do you think, or are we making excuses once again for our self serving, self righteous, self centered, and uncaring behavior? Do we (adults) actually believe whining will get us out of the traffic we do not have to be in? Do we believe that if we continue to shift responsibility on someone or something else that our whimpering will get us what we feel we deserve?
This new attitude is destructive, and it has gotten on my last nerve! What does that 23 year old think America owes him? What does the eighteen year old think she is entitled to? Someone please tell me. What makes these rude young people believe they are Mr. Special? Where did we go wrong with raising these people who appear to have it all together, but truly cannot function appropriately or adequately when confronted with real life events? And, this is the kicker: These young so called adults do not take any responsibility for their behavior. Just like the Ms. 30 something-It ain’t my fault. Interesting: we have teenagers and 20 year olds who are of the belief that they are entitled and we have that thirty-five year old who does not comprehend personal responsibility.
Are we so far to the left and/or to the right in our thinking that we blatantly refuse to take responsibility for our actions, and then believe it is okay? Think about the last time you did something stupid. Did you accept the fact that you made the decision to do that stupid act/thing after you realized what you did was dumb, or was it someone else’s fault?
I have to admit as a 30 something person that there have been several occasions where I conveniently developed an excuse for doing something STUPID, but failed to take responsibility for it. Like that time I purchased a car knowing full well that I could not afford the monthly car note. For those of you who grew up with me: It was the white and black Impulse. I may have told you at the time that my cousin took over the payments. I lied. That car was repossessed. Like that time I decided I was not going to file taxes for two years. I just refused to. "Damn the government." That was my attitude. How stupid was that? But, guess what: I blamed the IRS for my asinine act after they began to garnish funds from my government salary. Boy, was I an idiot! I neglected to take responsibility in both occurrences for my actions.
There have been numerous other irresponsible things that I have done. I can go on and on. However, there is one thing that I do not understand: Why do we continue to put ourselves in bad situations and then point the finger at the man, the system, our parents, our teachers, our childhoods, and for us black folk: why is slavery our reasoning for all our problems?
If you are black and refuse to accept the truth about us you may want to stop reading now. Don’t worry I do not have much to say. I have aired our dirty laundry before (http://muatatruthtelling.blogspot.com/2006/02/black-folks-laundry-it-is-dirty.html)
I will bullet point my truths. Continue to read.
-If you are illiterate it is your fault.
-If you sell drugs “the man” did not force you to poison your community.
-If you wonder why white people think we are all thugs and whores just spend 10 minutes watching BET.
-If you are not promoted at work maybe you should adhere to the man’s rules i.e. get to work on time.
-If you are “profiled” in a store that’s operated by a Korean, and the owner eyeballs you the entire time you are in his store you better believe one of us has ripped him off before.
-If you have ever thought about why there are so many black men in prison please do consider the judicial system is the blame for wrongfully putting them there, but also consider the brotha on the corner did rob the white tourist.
-If you devalue education and glorify rims, $200 jeans, Moet, overpriced seafood (Spondivits), and other foolishness you need to run a self check.
Probably every one of you reading this commentary are more than likely saying: ‘Muata, the list above does not apply to me.’ I know this, man! But, I guarantee you someone in your family or close to your family could benefit from the list. Even if it just serves as a reminder of their behavior they should read it because the list is a sad depiction of black folk not taking PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY.
I am so disgusted with us and our excuses. You can call it rhetoric (I am full of truthful rhetoric), but you know as well as I do that this “blame game” has to end. Mr. Baggy Pants needs to pull up his Rocawear jeans and stop being a jackass.
Most of our mommas did not raise fools!!
*All my Asian, Hispanic, Native American, African American and white readers please share this commentary with every Black person you know.
Written by Muata. Inspired by my friend that said: “On occasion, I am ashamed of being black.” Inspired by Jesse Jackson’s comment: “There is nothing more painful to me at this stage in my life than to walk down the street and hear footsteps and start thinking about robbery and then look around and see somebody white and feel relieved.”
Monday, September 25, 2006
Is the Negro with the Susie a Race Traitor?
I was told by a life long friend, “Brian, only write about what moves you. Filter the request you get from your readers.” I have reluctantly taken this advice to heart over the past nine months. I can say with honesty that my God has only directed my fingers to type commentaries and sermons that are full of passion, a dedication to tough love, empowerment, education, and controversy. However, I have failed to write a commentary that exudes a strong opinion on interracial dating. I have asked myself why on various occasions, but it was not until four African American women suggested I “touch” on the subject that I decided to share my thoughts via Muata’s Truth Telling.
Part of my un-spiritually lead hesitation has a lot to do with the played out-ness of the subject. Didn’t we (black writers/commentators) address this in the 90’s? The topic is saturated with opinion after opinion! And, it is so sensitive that I, the controversial one, have wrestled with my thoughts on the matter for months. It is not like white woman- dating black man is a new thing. Blacks have been dating whites and Asians have been dating Latinos for years. Like I said: This is nothing new. So, what is all the fuss about? Aren’t we in a more accepting and understanding world now? If this is the case why has this once upon a time rejected by the masses crime resurfaced with intensity and with a sting?
In my analysis I believe the sting has been felt by the black female primarily. White women can care less about their men crossing the line. They are probably glad to get rid of the pompous white boy anyway! However, the evidence of the sting is on the faces of countless black women when they see that tall, dark, handsome, and sexy brotha holding hands with a Susie. I have seen the expressions. Black women are pissed off and they feel like they have been betrayed by that perceived race traitor: The Negro with a Susie. Read the response from a well educated, fine, wealthy, successful, and unmarried black woman when asked, “Why are you single? Where is your man?”
The sista’s response:
“I want a black man, but I am terrified he may be gay or he maybe only interested in dating a white girl...I am disappointed in what today’s society has produced as black men. They will not step up, and when we decide to step our game up; he (black man) gets all insecure. I guess his insecurity is received better by the white chicks.”
Brothas, what do you have to say regarding that statement? All I could say at the time was, “Ouch.”
Her statement is articulated by thousands of black women across America. I have to agree with the hopeless feeling black women to some degree. When I ask, “Where is the black man?” Here is the response I have gotten: in prison, living a gay lifestyle, on probation, avoiding child support obligations, in America’s military, and/or with a white woman.
In an effort to gain a complete understanding of why good brothas have successfully executed the crossover, I decided to ask a few brothas. The feedback below is from brothas who date black women exclusively. Are you wondering why I only questioned these brothas? You should be wondering because their responses are telling and they give insight into the black man’s mentality on the subject without the blindness of a brotha who is involved with a Susie.
-White women are more accepting of my manhood.
-White women appear to be happier, joyful, content, etc.
-White women do not have sex hang-ups i.e. giving head.
-White women are ego accommodating.
-Black women are mad as hell.
-Black women appear to always search for a father figure via their men.
-Black women’s insecurities usually negatively affect the relationship.
Now, the last time I collected and disseminated the black mans’ verbiage concerning black women I got chastised and attacked. Please do not kill the messenger. Don’t direct a venomous anger and biting frustration at me. Just think about the above bullet points for a minute, a hour, or a day. Seriously. Think about what brothas who date black women ONLY have said.
My sistas, if this part of my commentary upsets you share with me why. Keep in mind the responses came from brothas who are dedicated to the black family remaining intact. Despite his frustrations he continues to work toward the eradication of black female-male division that has been successfully injected into our lives by conspirators. He has decided to stay in the dating game with the yellow, brown, and black skinned sistas.
I personally believe that “maintaining” the black family is paramount. I also believe people should be free to date who they damn well please! If Rusty (white boy) wants to date Shakeeta (black woman); if Carlos (latino) wants to date Jennie (white girl); and if Tyrone (black man) wants to date Christina (latina) so be it. It is not my business, and I can care less until that black dude avoids eye contact with me when he is with his Prize. Go figure. He avoids eye contact! Is he ashamed of the Prize that got Emmett Till's face smashed in? Does Susie not measure up to the blonde-head-blue-eyed gem? This is the black dude I do not respect. He flees from the division and complexities his new girl’s father created, and then he is embarrassed. What is that all about? Embarrassed?? I usually do not blatantly insult people in my commentaries by name calling. I typically try to do it subliminally with class. However, on this occasion please forgive me: This black dude is a Punk-B&*%$. A weakling. And, I say to him, ‘Be proud of your decision and selection. Flaunt your Prize. I would!”
Back to the sistas.
I have always believed one should conduct a self analysis when there is meaningful criticism of one’s personality and behavior. Conducting this personal inventory could lead to a more thorough understanding of self.
We can say that the black woman is mad because of what she has had to put up with: Black male shiftlessness. On the other hand, I contend that what the black woman has dealt with has not changed significantly over the years. My mother and most of the X generation mothers put up with the same crap the 21st century woman is dealing with today. Although, the difference is in the response. My mother did not respond with a level of frustration that affected her disposition/persona. She did not walk around looking mad as hell. She smiled from time to time despite the realities on the home front. My mother in most circumstances did not display insecurity. She did not have time to be “caught-up” in the foolishness my father and other men displayed. She had to be strong for the family!
Wait a minute. I hear the sista’s cry: ‘Brian, you are hitting us too hard. Stop comparing us to your mother. If you want your mother go be with her.’ I hear ya. But, I am just telling it like I see it: She ain’t nothing like the women today’s society is producing.
My criticism stings like the sting of seeing Mr. Fine Black Brotha with Ms. Susie. I am aware of this. I am also aware that you (sista) have a tough road to travel. You are too dark, too strong, too independent, too educated, too rich, too light, too aggressive, too... You are familiar with the adjectives used to describe black women. No need for me to go on. But, one last thing: You have been too accommodating, and now it is time for you to take a man’s advice. Read below.
Do what you need to do to be happy. Always remember your happiness need not evolve around a man. Work on self development and not development for a man. If you do this you will not be disappointed by that black dude’s decision to look pass you. You will have your strength to rely on. With the strength, the smile will replace the frown. And the strength will be retained in our families. We need you.
Written by a brotha who is not ashamed to admit he has been involved with a Susie. Inspired by the Caucasian parents in Chicago that recently kidnapped their daughter, and attempted to force their daughter to abort that mixed breed fetus. Yeah, are we more accepting?
Part of my un-spiritually lead hesitation has a lot to do with the played out-ness of the subject. Didn’t we (black writers/commentators) address this in the 90’s? The topic is saturated with opinion after opinion! And, it is so sensitive that I, the controversial one, have wrestled with my thoughts on the matter for months. It is not like white woman- dating black man is a new thing. Blacks have been dating whites and Asians have been dating Latinos for years. Like I said: This is nothing new. So, what is all the fuss about? Aren’t we in a more accepting and understanding world now? If this is the case why has this once upon a time rejected by the masses crime resurfaced with intensity and with a sting?
In my analysis I believe the sting has been felt by the black female primarily. White women can care less about their men crossing the line. They are probably glad to get rid of the pompous white boy anyway! However, the evidence of the sting is on the faces of countless black women when they see that tall, dark, handsome, and sexy brotha holding hands with a Susie. I have seen the expressions. Black women are pissed off and they feel like they have been betrayed by that perceived race traitor: The Negro with a Susie. Read the response from a well educated, fine, wealthy, successful, and unmarried black woman when asked, “Why are you single? Where is your man?”
The sista’s response:
“I want a black man, but I am terrified he may be gay or he maybe only interested in dating a white girl...I am disappointed in what today’s society has produced as black men. They will not step up, and when we decide to step our game up; he (black man) gets all insecure. I guess his insecurity is received better by the white chicks.”
Brothas, what do you have to say regarding that statement? All I could say at the time was, “Ouch.”
Her statement is articulated by thousands of black women across America. I have to agree with the hopeless feeling black women to some degree. When I ask, “Where is the black man?” Here is the response I have gotten: in prison, living a gay lifestyle, on probation, avoiding child support obligations, in America’s military, and/or with a white woman.
In an effort to gain a complete understanding of why good brothas have successfully executed the crossover, I decided to ask a few brothas. The feedback below is from brothas who date black women exclusively. Are you wondering why I only questioned these brothas? You should be wondering because their responses are telling and they give insight into the black man’s mentality on the subject without the blindness of a brotha who is involved with a Susie.
-White women are more accepting of my manhood.
-White women appear to be happier, joyful, content, etc.
-White women do not have sex hang-ups i.e. giving head.
-White women are ego accommodating.
-Black women are mad as hell.
-Black women appear to always search for a father figure via their men.
-Black women’s insecurities usually negatively affect the relationship.
Now, the last time I collected and disseminated the black mans’ verbiage concerning black women I got chastised and attacked. Please do not kill the messenger. Don’t direct a venomous anger and biting frustration at me. Just think about the above bullet points for a minute, a hour, or a day. Seriously. Think about what brothas who date black women ONLY have said.
My sistas, if this part of my commentary upsets you share with me why. Keep in mind the responses came from brothas who are dedicated to the black family remaining intact. Despite his frustrations he continues to work toward the eradication of black female-male division that has been successfully injected into our lives by conspirators. He has decided to stay in the dating game with the yellow, brown, and black skinned sistas.
I personally believe that “maintaining” the black family is paramount. I also believe people should be free to date who they damn well please! If Rusty (white boy) wants to date Shakeeta (black woman); if Carlos (latino) wants to date Jennie (white girl); and if Tyrone (black man) wants to date Christina (latina) so be it. It is not my business, and I can care less until that black dude avoids eye contact with me when he is with his Prize. Go figure. He avoids eye contact! Is he ashamed of the Prize that got Emmett Till's face smashed in? Does Susie not measure up to the blonde-head-blue-eyed gem? This is the black dude I do not respect. He flees from the division and complexities his new girl’s father created, and then he is embarrassed. What is that all about? Embarrassed?? I usually do not blatantly insult people in my commentaries by name calling. I typically try to do it subliminally with class. However, on this occasion please forgive me: This black dude is a Punk-B&*%$. A weakling. And, I say to him, ‘Be proud of your decision and selection. Flaunt your Prize. I would!”
Back to the sistas.
I have always believed one should conduct a self analysis when there is meaningful criticism of one’s personality and behavior. Conducting this personal inventory could lead to a more thorough understanding of self.
We can say that the black woman is mad because of what she has had to put up with: Black male shiftlessness. On the other hand, I contend that what the black woman has dealt with has not changed significantly over the years. My mother and most of the X generation mothers put up with the same crap the 21st century woman is dealing with today. Although, the difference is in the response. My mother did not respond with a level of frustration that affected her disposition/persona. She did not walk around looking mad as hell. She smiled from time to time despite the realities on the home front. My mother in most circumstances did not display insecurity. She did not have time to be “caught-up” in the foolishness my father and other men displayed. She had to be strong for the family!
Wait a minute. I hear the sista’s cry: ‘Brian, you are hitting us too hard. Stop comparing us to your mother. If you want your mother go be with her.’ I hear ya. But, I am just telling it like I see it: She ain’t nothing like the women today’s society is producing.
My criticism stings like the sting of seeing Mr. Fine Black Brotha with Ms. Susie. I am aware of this. I am also aware that you (sista) have a tough road to travel. You are too dark, too strong, too independent, too educated, too rich, too light, too aggressive, too... You are familiar with the adjectives used to describe black women. No need for me to go on. But, one last thing: You have been too accommodating, and now it is time for you to take a man’s advice. Read below.
Do what you need to do to be happy. Always remember your happiness need not evolve around a man. Work on self development and not development for a man. If you do this you will not be disappointed by that black dude’s decision to look pass you. You will have your strength to rely on. With the strength, the smile will replace the frown. And the strength will be retained in our families. We need you.
Written by a brotha who is not ashamed to admit he has been involved with a Susie. Inspired by the Caucasian parents in Chicago that recently kidnapped their daughter, and attempted to force their daughter to abort that mixed breed fetus. Yeah, are we more accepting?
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Breathe Easy
At approximately 6:15pm on September 11, 2006, I sat down in my leather recliner and tried to remember if I took the time to breathe while dressing for work, while riding the train, and while at work. It is evident my respiratory system continued to function on this emotionally driven day of 911 remembrance. If it did not you would be reading a dead man’s commentary. Since I am not dead you are reading the words of a man who is alive, but drained from the stresses of his days.
Have you ever been so busy that you forgot to eat? If you know me you know that I will never forget to eat. However, I am one to forget to take a deep breath during my
self-created chaotic days. There have been countless Monday’s, Tuesday’s, Wednesday’s, and Thursday’s that I do not remember breathing. Seriously. It was not until I was sitting in my car at the end of a day while waiting on the light to change that I remembered to take a deep breath. And, at that time I was aware of myself. Truly aware! The deep breath was my reminder that I was a living human being. It was also my reminder that I have neglected myself. On days like this one, which is at least 4 days of my week, I did not leave my office, I ate at my desk, I rushed applicants off the telephone, I typed numerous emails with countless misspells (thank God for spell check), and I even forgot to drink my four quarts of water. This is not the way I should carry out my day. Unfortunately, I have become the one thing I dislike: A busy, self-centered, french fry craving American.
I cannot recall the last time I just relaxed. Even when I try to, the damn cell phone rings. How I detest my cell phone. I have told whomever would listen that I want to throw my cell phone out the window and never get another one. But, I have convinced myself that I need it. Isn’t it funny how our minds work? I forget to take a deep breath during the day to center myself, but I will not get rid of something that’s a constant nag.
Since I am losing the battle to slow down, I decided two years ago to take my deep breaths during my therapy sessions. Yes, therapy. You can’t be surprised that I have a therapist. If you have not noticed I am a complicated, conflicted, pissed-off, and intense black man. Some say I am a walking time bomb, and many believe my intensity is fueled by hatred. I contend that this is far from the truth. I don’t hate anyone or anything, I just dislike… Well, I will not get into that. If you are an avid reader of my commentaries you perfectly know what and who I dislike. You also understand my commentary objectives. Continue to read.
During college I did not understand why my white classmates were going to therapy. I thought they were trying to bring attention to themselves, and I also thought they were wimps. They complained about everything. “My toilet is stopped up; my room is cold; my room is too hot; I have too much research to do; my parents did not send me my $500 monthly allowance; etc.” It was an endless list of crybaby crap that I could not understand because I just was happy to have my own bed. It was their unnecessary whining that helped me realize that some of them were incapable of doing what was necessary to be happy, and I realized I needed to face the issues surrounding my upbringing. I could not do this alone. I needed therapy assistance to address REAL problems, and not trivial privileged people matters.
All this time I have been trying to be better than them (those white folk who threw temper tantrums at my undergrad school). Why wouldn’t I, when I was told, “Brian, you have to always be one step ahead of them because they have skin privilege and you do not.” This was hammered into my mental psyche every day of high school by my uncle Raymond. The pressure that developed from his ACCURAATE statement has overwhelmed me for years. To some degree therapy has eased the pressure. However, because of the accuracy of his statement I have been on a mission to stay three steps ahead. As a result of this, I have become an overachiever who finds it necessary to be “perfect”. We all know that no one can be perfect. Believe it or not, we cannot be “white like snow” like the church told us we could be while forcing the image of a pale face Jesus down our throats. Now, that’s perfection at its best: white like snow and a white Jesus! Many of us (black folk) have tried to be “perfect” and from our efforts we have worn ourselves ragged. To the extent that I can only breathe on Thursday mornings during my 45 minute $150 therapy sessions with a white man who is fascinated by my blackness.
So, Brian, what are you trying to convey here? Well, I am trying to encourage you to breathe. Really breathe. Take more deep breaths, turn off that text messaging machine, and most importantly look into going to therapy. I have always believed that black people are prime candidates for suicide. Considering our history we should have killed ourselves a long time ago. The raping of our heritage was brutal. It stretches back to the West coast of Africa. The affects of the rape is evident today in the way we treat each other, and in the methods we have taken to “stay ahead of them”.
Through my therapy I have discovered that I have spent years trying to please everyone around me. I have tried to be the image I created of Brian E. Payne, and not be Muata: He who searches for truth. I have worked so hard not to fail. So much so that I am compulsive with all my actions. This has led me to always attempt to be perfect. Not white like snow perfect, but PERFECT. My actions have suffocated me. I want to breathe again. How about you?
Written by Muata. Inspired by those black folk who finally stop saying, “Ain’t nothing wrong with me. I am just tired.”
Have you ever been so busy that you forgot to eat? If you know me you know that I will never forget to eat. However, I am one to forget to take a deep breath during my
self-created chaotic days. There have been countless Monday’s, Tuesday’s, Wednesday’s, and Thursday’s that I do not remember breathing. Seriously. It was not until I was sitting in my car at the end of a day while waiting on the light to change that I remembered to take a deep breath. And, at that time I was aware of myself. Truly aware! The deep breath was my reminder that I was a living human being. It was also my reminder that I have neglected myself. On days like this one, which is at least 4 days of my week, I did not leave my office, I ate at my desk, I rushed applicants off the telephone, I typed numerous emails with countless misspells (thank God for spell check), and I even forgot to drink my four quarts of water. This is not the way I should carry out my day. Unfortunately, I have become the one thing I dislike: A busy, self-centered, french fry craving American.
I cannot recall the last time I just relaxed. Even when I try to, the damn cell phone rings. How I detest my cell phone. I have told whomever would listen that I want to throw my cell phone out the window and never get another one. But, I have convinced myself that I need it. Isn’t it funny how our minds work? I forget to take a deep breath during the day to center myself, but I will not get rid of something that’s a constant nag.
Since I am losing the battle to slow down, I decided two years ago to take my deep breaths during my therapy sessions. Yes, therapy. You can’t be surprised that I have a therapist. If you have not noticed I am a complicated, conflicted, pissed-off, and intense black man. Some say I am a walking time bomb, and many believe my intensity is fueled by hatred. I contend that this is far from the truth. I don’t hate anyone or anything, I just dislike… Well, I will not get into that. If you are an avid reader of my commentaries you perfectly know what and who I dislike. You also understand my commentary objectives. Continue to read.
During college I did not understand why my white classmates were going to therapy. I thought they were trying to bring attention to themselves, and I also thought they were wimps. They complained about everything. “My toilet is stopped up; my room is cold; my room is too hot; I have too much research to do; my parents did not send me my $500 monthly allowance; etc.” It was an endless list of crybaby crap that I could not understand because I just was happy to have my own bed. It was their unnecessary whining that helped me realize that some of them were incapable of doing what was necessary to be happy, and I realized I needed to face the issues surrounding my upbringing. I could not do this alone. I needed therapy assistance to address REAL problems, and not trivial privileged people matters.
All this time I have been trying to be better than them (those white folk who threw temper tantrums at my undergrad school). Why wouldn’t I, when I was told, “Brian, you have to always be one step ahead of them because they have skin privilege and you do not.” This was hammered into my mental psyche every day of high school by my uncle Raymond. The pressure that developed from his ACCURAATE statement has overwhelmed me for years. To some degree therapy has eased the pressure. However, because of the accuracy of his statement I have been on a mission to stay three steps ahead. As a result of this, I have become an overachiever who finds it necessary to be “perfect”. We all know that no one can be perfect. Believe it or not, we cannot be “white like snow” like the church told us we could be while forcing the image of a pale face Jesus down our throats. Now, that’s perfection at its best: white like snow and a white Jesus! Many of us (black folk) have tried to be “perfect” and from our efforts we have worn ourselves ragged. To the extent that I can only breathe on Thursday mornings during my 45 minute $150 therapy sessions with a white man who is fascinated by my blackness.
So, Brian, what are you trying to convey here? Well, I am trying to encourage you to breathe. Really breathe. Take more deep breaths, turn off that text messaging machine, and most importantly look into going to therapy. I have always believed that black people are prime candidates for suicide. Considering our history we should have killed ourselves a long time ago. The raping of our heritage was brutal. It stretches back to the West coast of Africa. The affects of the rape is evident today in the way we treat each other, and in the methods we have taken to “stay ahead of them”.
Through my therapy I have discovered that I have spent years trying to please everyone around me. I have tried to be the image I created of Brian E. Payne, and not be Muata: He who searches for truth. I have worked so hard not to fail. So much so that I am compulsive with all my actions. This has led me to always attempt to be perfect. Not white like snow perfect, but PERFECT. My actions have suffocated me. I want to breathe again. How about you?
Written by Muata. Inspired by those black folk who finally stop saying, “Ain’t nothing wrong with me. I am just tired.”
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