The Real War in America

The real war in America is happening right in front of our eyes in Chicago. In just one weekend there were 8 killed and 40-plus wounded. This was here on American soil. While most of the media was covering the return of Zombies supposedly connected to bath-salts, the black community in Chicago was engaged in war.

When the temperatures start to rise, there is an increase in violence in most black communities. It would suggest that someone has spiked the Kool-Aid packages sold in the corner markets. Or that there was some type of government experiment to thin the heard.

The usual excuses always seem to be the ones that are discussed by experts- the same experts that return to their suburban homes and enjoy their fresh squeezed lemonades and glasses of wine on their patios. Then there are the constant chants of “there is nothing to do” and that a larger police presents would somehow decrease the violence.

These excuses hold some truth, but they fail to address the issue. Violence is a natural behavior and once this behavior is accepted by a community and not channeled properly there is only destruction on said community.

The relationship between the black community and police, no matter what race or creed, is one that lacks trust and respect. Neither the police nor the black community seems to respect or understand one another and this division is fatal. The police represent the system. A system that has denied the black community the opportunity to gain liberty and live in happiness, all due to political and social economic barriers.

But the black community brings their own ammunition to this war as well. Shotgun shells are lyrics that blast from the speaker and penetrate the listener. The uniform of pants sagging to the ground showing of their latest underoo purchase, and the need for father-figures often creates youth that do not stand a chance.

This alone should be a case for an increase in Gay Adoptions, to support our own country instead of forcing individuals to depend on adoption agencies overseas. The lack of parental direction, financial opportunities, and failing education, has created a hell-storm that is impossible to escape.

I often equate the action of hunters in the wild killing a deer and placing it above the fireplace as the same activities that are happening in Chicago. Some may say that this is a stretch, but the action of wanting and needing to kill anything has to be connected to the same part of the brain. And for those trapped in the black community the only thing they can kill is each other.  There is no outlet for this human behavior that is reinforced by the music, the loss of an identity, and the need for acceptance.

Many communities have escaped some of these social ills, but the truth is also that not too many cultures have been put under the same strain as the African American community. Many communities still hold on to their cultural beliefs. These beliefs are handing down for generations. And often the only cultural beliefs that African Americans can pass consist of poverty, a white religion, and violence.

Responsibility is and should remain in the hands of the individual. But one must understand that responsibility is a trait that must be learned, and often passed down or taught. As Americans we have a responsibility as well, a responsibility to demand that our educational system in the inner-city gives our youth a proper education that will allow for them to be able to decipher the difference between entertainment and reality which has become so easily blurred.

The individuals in power such as government, education, and entertainment need to take a stand. As these individuals often contribute to the systematic and economic abuse that harms and punishes the black community. This war in Chicago can easily spread to any town in America, and when it does do not say that there were no warnings. Soon there will be nowhere for any of us to escape this war, and we may all be victims taken away from a crime scene as a snippet of the 10’oclock news.

Angry Black Man Syndrome (ABMS)

I have been told many times that I am an angry black man. But those that know me understand that this is not anger but passion. I am cut from a different cloth. There have been many that have told me “You are the whitest black man that I know”. I laugh and think to myself you really do not have a clue about who I really am. Is there a certain way that a black man should talk and dress? I mean, I do wear a belt and search for the correct size jeans.

I am often embarrassed when I see black men with their jeans down to their knees, staring at their Underroos with Sponge Bob Square Paints and the Wonder Twins. Yes I am frustrated when the hottest song on the radio is telling me that I should be single for the night. I mean come on; there is nothing wrong with arguing with your mate and then having hot passionate make-up sex.

I have been pulled over by the cops and racially profiled. I have tried my hardest to let some of the comments that I have heard pass right by like a speeding train and then move on with my life. But the more I heard these comments and evaluated the constant racial tension around me, I knew that it was time to do more with my life and use my talents as a writer to reach the world.

So, you can call me angry if I won’t stand for people not living up to their potential and crying poor me all the time. The excuses are old. The truth is just that the truth. There are some that will never understand the cultural differences and accept that there needs to be real conversation and an agenda developed to combat this racial tension. No matter where I have lived there has always been someone or something that has reminded me that before I am an American, I am black.

When I lived in California I was at my brother-in-laws weeding reception and his father-in-law asked me if I was from Oakland. I looked at him and his fuzzy blonde afro and replied no, I am from Pacifica California. I thought to myself “sorry for the disappointment and welcome to the family”, while his son was standing upside down drinking from a keg. Now explain that to the kids in Oakland!

Or better yet, the day that I moved into my first house and my new neighbor called her husband in fear because I was standing outside instructing the movers were to put my furniture. I can just imagine the conversation over the phone “honey you need to come home now, there is a black man outside his own house I think he is going to rob me and the alarm has not been set-up yet”.

But don’t worry; I get the same type of reaction from black people. Like, when I am standing outside smoking a cigarette and they ask for one and refuse to take one because it is not menthol. Or when we engage in a conversation and they are shocked and say “you speak proper”. I am sorry my house is not filled with Kool-Aid packets and my kids do not run around the neighborhood out of control.

I am not angry at the world and I have friends of all races. Any day around my home I can be the minority and the next the majority. That is the beauty of living in America. I might be a little louder than the next guy, or say something controversial, but why not? I mean, sometimes there are things that need to be addressed.

I do not see the world simply as black and white, but there are issues that can be directly tied to racism and a society that has not addressed the past. I see a bright future for our country. I see little children of all races playing together and eating lunch together at the same table. But as adults we have a responsibility to make it a better place, so these children will not grow up and be upset and understand that race is something that is important.

It was hard enough to explain to my son when he was a kindergartener that it was alright for a black man to marry a white woman. After his first week of kindergarten he came home confused and stated that he thought that a black man and a white woman should not be married. I thought that I would not have a conversation like this until he was at least a teenager. So for those to say that the world has totally moved forward and it is over- think again, because this mindset was taught to a child by their parents.

Even today Obama has tapped into his passion to express his concerns on the current struggles of our economy. They called it the new approach. But I guess since I am not the president and I am not wearing a suit and tie my approach is called anger.