Legitimate black man kicked out of bar

Headlines are written to draw readers to the article.  They serve as a summation of what follows and entice us to give the piece a chance.

Like most readers of news, I depend on headlines to help me weed through the massive choices in front of me.  Many headlines let me down after promising a sensational discovery only to deflate me after presenting news that fails to live up to the billing.  I got hyped after reading “Hip-Hop Mogul indicted on murder-for-hire charges”.  The headline lured me in because of a false assumption.  Had authorities finally arrested Suge Knight for the arrest of Tupac?

Nope. It was James Rosemond who was charged in New York for ordering others to kill a man in 2009 as payback for an assault on his 14-year-old son.  Rosemond is best known for his work with Salt-N-Pepa, Big news, but it’s not Suge Knight.

That headline served its purpose.  So did the one I read from happenings over in Raleigh, NC.  “Harvard graduate student thrown out of bar in North Carolina allegedly for being black” Those were fighting words.  It was just enough to get my blood churning.  I’d had enough of black men being treated wrong, and this one had me overly sensitive because it happened less than 25 miles away.

That’s the first thing I wanted to know.  What city was it?  My assumption was correct.  It happened in Raleigh.  I can’t imagine something like that happening in Durham, NC.  Not after being voted the most tolerant city in America by The Beast. The bars in Durham are a haven of multiculturalism.  No one in their right mind would kick out a person because of their race.  With that being said, I couldn’t make that assumption.  I’m still not over the burning of three crosses in one night in Durham.  Anything is possible.

After confirming it happened in Raleigh, I read the rest of the story. “What was so demoralizing about this reality is that I have worked to do everything right,” says Jonathan Wall, a 21-year-old graduate assistant at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.  Wall is a graduate of Morehouse College and is set to begin graduate studies at Harvard.  He has played by all the rules.  That statement from Wall, and the headline that flushed out the power of all that hard work, had me thinking about what made this a big story.

It’s the Harvard in the headline that brought legitimacy to his claim.  The more I thought about it, the more I envisioned a more honest headline.  How about “Legitimate black man thrown out of bar.”

We shouldn’t minimize Walls pain.  From all accounts, something went array that night.  Wall says he and a friend went to The Downtown Sports Bar and Grill on a Sunday morning.  It was only his second time in a bar.  Wall smells squeaky clean.  The type of kid a father would introduce to his daughter – educated, motivated and he isn’t one to spend time in a bar.

They were told they couldn’t go in because the bar requires membership. Somehow he made it inside, and was quickly confronted by the general manager who told him to buy a drink or leave. Wall explained he was waiting for a friend to use the bathroom when he says the general manager put him in a headlock and forced him out of the bar. 

Wall told a police officer on patrol in the area about the incident, but no report was filed. The bar denied Wall’s claims in a statement released to the press on Friday. “Mr. Wall was not roughed up or improperly treated.  Mr. Wall was not the subject of racial discrimination,” according to the statement.   It continues to state that Wall “took advantage of a crowded door situation after being told he could not enter without being a member or the guest of a member.”

I kept looking for evidence to prove that Wall was kicked out because he’s black.  I searched for a racial slur, a comment about your kind of people, anything to give credence to the claim that he was removed from the premises because of his race.  I’m down for the protest.  I have a new pair of we shall overcome shoes ready to take to the streets and march.  I couldn’t find it in the story.  As bad as I feel for Wall, and I sincerely do, there is no evidence to validate his claim that race was the motivation behind all that happened.

That’s not to say it’s not about race.  Wall is probably correct to assert that the headlock and boot came from an ole hillbilly with built up racial anxiety.  The only way to measure things like this is to walk in those shoes.  It’s often what isn’t stated that gets at the truth.  It’s how things are done that leave people like Wall thinking there’s an underlying thing going on in the midst of the battle.  I feel you dude.

But, there are deeper implications related to what makes this news in the first place.  It’s what Wall said.  It’s what is stated in the headline that got me invested in the story: “Harvard graduate student thrown out of bar in North Carolina allegedly for being black”.  After playing by all the rules Wall, and others like him, have the right to be treated with dignity and respect. How dare they treat him that way! He’s not just a black man, he’s a black man headed to Harvard.

Let’s face it.  This would not be news if Wall was a student at Shaw University or St. Augustine.  The headline failed to mention Wall is a graduate of Morehouse.  Harvard brought credibility that the HBCU couldn’t.  The use of Harvard forced everyone to stop and ponder the rest of the story. Sadly, that's what it takes to be heard, the validation of an institution that you’re not a loud mouth black dude who blames white people for all the wrong in your life.

Would the story get headlines if the man choked has a GED, is unemployed, has two baby mama’s and is two months behind in child support?  It’s the saddest part in covering the news regarding black men.  Their credentials end up in the headline as a way to confirm or deny the credibility of their claim. 

It’s difficult to respond to Walls assertion of racism.  Unless there’s more to this story, I’m forced to reserve the use of my race card.  That doesn’t mean I can’t feel my brother’s pain.  I do.  I want to fight for him.

I want to fight, but not because he’s black.  I want to fight because he’s a black man headed to Harvard.  He played by all the rules darn it.

Bow down and show respect for a man like that!  But, what about the dude in the chokehold with a GED?

The meaning of shackles on my feet

Please excuse my language, but what the Hell was Adidas thinking when they introduced the shackle shoes?  I’m not buying the line “Got a sneaker game so hot you lock your kicks to your ankles?”

It’s hard to imagine that in this age over hyper cultural sensitivity not one person at the German sports apparel maker considered the correlation of those shackles and the enslavement of black folks.  Not one person? No one had the insight to blow the whistle in the middle of the presentation and call a foul? Nobody?

The implications related to not knowing any better raises serious question regarding who was in the room when the shackles were presented.  I can only assume there was the absence of a black person to scream “no you didn’t!”  If so, that brother or sister needs to have the black card removed and sent to a class on what pisses other black folks off.

Someone needed to yell about the large numbers of black youth who purchase those high price shoes.  I know young people with enough invested in shoes to pay for their college education.  I’ve heard young people scream at their parents for refusing to purchase the most recent version of Jordan’s foot crack. Youth are addicted to shoes like an old wine-o standing on a corner begging for change to get another bottle.  “Please mama, please, got ta have my shoes!”  Show me a parent not dealing with the insanity connected to a kid’s shoe addiction and I’ll give them an award as parent of the year.

Which may be the point behind Adidas shoe concept – telling the truth about those who fork out all that cash to buy the crap.  As much as I want to strangle everyone in the board room who gave the nod for the shoe, I have to give them credit for being honest about the lure of the shoe industry.  Those who buy their products are slaves to the shoe.  You might as well put a shackle on them to make it official.

And it goes deeper than the shoes they wear.  Their dreams for education and a life of a modest level of security are enslaved by their spending habits.  Their parents can’t get past making it from one check to the next due to their need to show up at school with new kicks on their feet every day.  Add to the cost of shoes the rest of the wardrobe.  You might as well call them what they are – slaves.

As much as I hate the concept of shackles on shoes, there’s something about that memory from slavery that gets at a truth that needs to be preached.  Since they want to wear them, put shackles on them.  Make them walk around school with a symbol of subjugation.  Make them tell the truth about their obsession. 

Outrage on the release of the shoe forced Adidas to offer a formal apology. "The design of the JS Roundhouse Mid is nothing more than the designer Jeremy Scott's outrageous and unique take on fashion and has nothing to do with slavery," the statement said. "We apologize if people are offended by the design and we are withdrawing our plans to make them available in the marketplace."

Adidas had no choice but to back down.  With high profile critics like Rev. Jesse Jackson banging at their door they had to find a way to back out of their plan to place shackles on the feet of youth. "The attempt to commercialize and make popular more than 200 years of human degradation, where blacks were considered three-fifths human by our Constitution is offensive, appalling and insensitive," Jackson said before Adidas' decision to withdraw them from the marketplace.

I’m certainly relieved that Adidas pulled the shoe, but maybe this was an opportunity to make a point to those black kids fixated on shoes.  We had a chance to force them to wear a label like in the “Scarlet Letter”. Make them tell the truth.

I wear shackles on my feet because I’m a slave to my shoes.

Rodney King: a name we will never forget

There are so many emotions stirred by the death of Rodney King.  There’s the usual stuff that rises to the top whenever I hear his name.  I get pissed off because his name reminds me of every time I’ve been stopped by the police for no other reason than driving while black, walking while black or shopping while black.  His name reminds me of why I pray every morning before stepping out into the real world.  As much as people refuse to admit it - it’s tough being a black man in America.

Black men have to be careful with how we talk about race.  We get accused of using the race card or living with a victim mentality.  People are quick to challenge us to pull up our pants by our bootstraps and take responsibility for what we have done to limit our own progress.  We’re told that others struggle just like we do, and that it’s not our black skin combined with manhood that causes all the hostility others have toward us; it’s our attitude blocking progression toward that American Dream.

Rodney King is one of the many reminders of what happens when black men show up.  Other example can be found: the Jena 6, Trayvon Martin, the harassment of Harvard Professor Skip Gates by police when he was unlocking his front door, the conviction of Brian Banks for a rape he didn’t commit, the wrongful conviction of Daryl Hunt for the death of a Winston-Salem journalist and the conviction of Mumia Abu Jamal for the death of a Philadelphia police officer.  When a black man is arrested the first thought is he’s guilty until proven innocent.

The uproar that followed that release of that dreadful tape, that showed Los Angeles police beating King with their clubs, was stirred by years of police brutality. Complaints by citizens weren’t enough to convince authorities to change the unwritten code that gave a green light to beating black men expected of wrongdoing.  The riots that followed reflected a community's pay back for being fed up with being used as beating boards. 

When King came out and begged the world to “just get along,” his tone and face said more than his words.  53 people were dead after those riots, and the nation had become even more torn by race.  Black people were incensed by the notion that black men deserved to be beaten, like former slaves, for minor acts of disobedience.  Like the burning of Watts in August of 1965, it was in retaliation to police brutality.  Enough is enough.

Few know the name Marquetta Frye, the 21-year-old black man pulled over by a white California Highway Patrol motorcycle officer.  Frye was arrested and by midnight 13,900 people were in the streets protesting.  Watts went up n flames, but few know Frye’s name.  Few don’t know King’s name.  That name, Rodney King, is synonymous with police brutality.

King’s drowning in his home pool won’t change any of that.  His name will be remembered because he provided the evidence the black community needed.  It showed up on tape.  It couldn’t be refuted.  It was no longer the word of the police against that of another black man griping about the abuse of power.  It was there for the world to see.  After the nation watched, the conversation regarding police brutality shifted.  It no longer became a figment of the black community’s imagination, it was there to watch.

Rodney King’s body was sacrificed to uncover truth.  The $3.5 million King received to compensate him for the blows on his body helped heal the ache of that night.  The money paid for the brutality, but there are some things money can’t make go away.

No matter how much money a black man has in the bank, it’s not enough to avoid the suspension of those who assume him guilty for no other reason than the color of his skin.

Ask Skip Gates.

I celebrate my Independence Day on Juneteenth

I refuse to celebrate the 4^th of July.  I recognize it as a significant date in American history.  I understand why people gather for cookouts, wave flags and meet at the ballpark of fireworks.  It’s up there with hotdogs, apple pie and baseball as things that define what it means to be a citizen of the county that waves the red, white and blue.

I still refuse to celebrate that date.  It would be a lie to do so.  It denounces all that followed that day when a group of men came together to make it official – we became a nation free from the rule of England.  My folks weren’t free yet.  I simply can’t force myself to commemorate a day that fails to tell the rest of the story.

I celebrate my independence on June 19^th.  That’s the date set aside to remember the end of slavery in America.  It was on June 19, 1865 that the Union soldiers, led by Major General Gordan Granger, landed at Galveston, Texas with news that the Civil War had ended and that the enslaved were free to leave master’s rule.  It was two and a half years after President Abraham Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation announced the freedom of slaves on January 1, 1863.

The Emancipation Proclamation had no impact on Texas due to the small number of Union troops to enforce Lincoln’s Executive Order.  With the surrender of General Lee in April of 1865, the arrival of General Granger and his troops were enough to overcome the resistance in Texas.

That’s the day I celebrate independence.  On that day General Granger read General Order Number 3 to the people in Texas.  It began with:

"The people of Texas are informed that in accordance with a Proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free. This involves an absolute equality of rights and rights of property between former masters and slaves, and the connection heretofore existing between them becomes that between employer and free laborer."

Many slaves left before the order was affirmed by their former masters’. With nowhere to go, they left embracing their freedom. Some went North while others sought to find family members in neighboring states.  They fled to Louisiana, Arkansas and Oklahoma.  Since that day in June of 1865, people have paused to remember the struggles of their descendants.  The Juneteenth celebration remained vital in Texas decades later, with former slaves and descendants making an annual pilgrimage back to Galveston.

When Ralph Abernathy called people of all races, creeds, economic levels and professions to come to Washington, D.C for the Poor People March in 1968, many returned home and initiated Juneteenth celebrations. On January 1, 1980, Juneteeth became an official state holiday in Texas.

The Durham Juneenth celebration is organized by Phyllis Coley, publisher of Spectacular Magazine and NC State Juneteenth Director.  Coley has been pressing state legislators to recognize Juneteenth as a state holiday. 

People will gather on Saturday to hear local music, enjoy food and hear speeches.  The keynote speech will be delivered by Rev. William Barber II, president of the North Carolina NAACP. Barber will talk about the importance of voter registration and remind people to show up and vote during the fall elections.

The Danish Philosopher Soren Kierkegaard says that life must be lived forwards but can only be understood backwards.  The reality of a particular age may not become apparent until it is drawing to a close. The meaning of that day in Galveston, Texas was not fully understood by those who walked away from a life of subjugation to embrace freedom.  We look back moved by their determination to find meaning beyond what kept them in bondage.

It’s my Independence Day.  I wave this flag of truth.  Lest those who follow from behind forget, we remind them on Juneteenth.

We free now.

_______________________________________________________________

Eighth Annual Durham Juneteenth Celebration
WHEN: June 16, 1 to 10 p.m. 

WHERE: CCB Plaza, downtown Durham

ADMISSION: Free

_______________________________________________________________

Saturday’s Juneteenth entertainment schedule:

1 p.m. Opening ceremony

1:15 p.m. King Ayoola

2:05 p.m. Tones of Harmony

2:40 p.m. Fierce Eclipse All Stars 

3 p.m. Q.S. Bullock & Sacrifice

3:35 p.m. Solo acoustic guitar

4:05 p.m. AIDS awareness session

4:30 p.m. Jerome Waller & Anointed Praise 

5 p.m. William Barber II, keynote address

5:30 p.m. DJ Kool

6:30 p.m. Models against domestic violence

6:50 p.m. Kamus

7:05 p.m. Reggie Pr1me 

7:30 p.m. Yolanda Rabun

8:15 p.m. Johnny White & The Elite Band

9:05 p.m. Sybi

 

21c Museum Hotel is the missing piece to Durham's economic development vision

It’s the move that promises to take Durham to the next level.  We’ve been here before - West Village, The Revolution Restaurant, The American Tobacco development, the Durham Performing Arts Center – all have taken Durham to a step beyond it’s former self.

 It’s happening again. 

Greenfire Development has partnered with 21C Museum Hotels to transform the Hill Building into one of the companies marque hotels that blends art, cultural center, resturant and luxury rooms to the Bull City.  The union between Greenfire and 21 C Museum Hotels promises to transform the old CCB headquarters into the place to be in downtown Durham.  It’s more than we hoped for when Greenfire purchased the building and began pitching it’s dream.

What makes this move so special is the company’s approach to the arts.  Anyone who has been to Lousiville, Kentucky knows about the fine art on display at the 21 C Museum hotel.  Philanthropist and contemporary art collectors Laura Lee Brown and Steve Wilson wanted to reverese the nasty trend of urban sprawl by revitalizing Lousiville, KY.  They teamed up with world-renowned architect Deborah Berke to revitalize a series of 19^th century tobacco and Bourbon warehouses in Louisville’s downtown district. 

21C was an instant hit, and critics from Travel Leisure, The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, National Geographic Traveler have raved about their experience at the hotel.  The readers of Conde Nast Traveler Magazine voted 21 c Museum Hotel Lousiville among the top ten hotels in the world in 2009, 2010 and 2011 Reader’s Choice Awards.

Brown and Wilson have taken their vision that art can be a economic driver for a community to other places.  21c is under construction in Cincinnati, Ohio and Bentonville, Arkansas.  The Bentonville hotel will be owned by members of the Walton family. The Walton family owns 45% of Wal-Mart, a stake vauled at $85 million.

The Durham project will cost 45 million.  It will offer 125 hotel rooms, musuem space that will be open to the public and free, a resturant and bar,  more than 150 new permanent jobs, and more than 200 jobs for the construction of the project.  It will be a unique gathering place for those who visist Durham. 

If members of the city council give the nod for a incentive package Durham will be added to the list of places with a 21c Musuem Hotel.  The backing of the Durham City Council is important for reasons beyond minimizing the cost to get the project done.  It’s important that both the city and county  honor the worth of the project as a sustaintable econonomic development iniative.  Yes, it brings jobs to Durham.  It does all of that while drawing visitors to Durham.  People will come for the art.  They will also come for the Durham Performing Arts Center and all the other great things happening in downtown and throughout the city. 

Help me understand why the city council would say no?  They have to say yes.

I may be a bit selfish on this one. I love art.  I especially love contemporary art.  The thought of having the museum at NCCU,the Hayti Heritage Center,  the Nasher, the Arts Council and 21c Musuem Hotel all in the same city is incredibly attractive.  It enhances what has already begun in downtown Durham – a place to showcase art.  From the Art Walk, the wonderful local art displayed at local restaurants, bars and coffee houses to the places that display art, Durham is close to challenging Asheville as the art hub of North Carolina.

Did I mention admission is open to the public and free?

Add it to the list of why Durham is the best place to live in America.  As that cable guy says, “Get er done!

Check out the company link: http://www.21cmuseumhotels.com/

Is it ever right to choke your baby girl?

The saddest part regarding the arrest of meg-Church pastor Creflo Dollar is the response from those after they get word that Dollar choked, kicked and punched his 15 year-old daughter.  The first response from most of the people I’ve spoken to is, “she must have deserved it.”

She got what was coming to her.  She must have done something to push him over the top.  That’s what a daddy is supposed to do when baby girl disrespects the authority of the man of the house.  As much as I hear that, I’m not buying it for one second.

You see, there is a much deeper message at the bottom of all of this.  With all the talk about domestic violence among young people, why would we support a father who is modeling to his daughter what it means to be in a loving relationship with a man?  As much as I understand the need to discipline children, we have to be careful in not endorsing activity that may become confusing for those young girls who get a piece of poppa’s venom when she acts like she’s grown enough to step in his face.

If daddy is the one to teach her how to be with a man, what’s to say that the beat down doesn’t come with that package? Is that what love looks like?  Is that the treatment she is to expect from the  man who is supposed to be like her daddy?  I think not.

If it’s true that father’s teach their daughters everything they need to know to be in a relationship, are they to conclude that it’s acceptable to get choked by their man if she crosses the line and fails to give him proper respect?  I would hope that instead of a choke move, kick to the side and left hook to the face, that daddy would remain calm, even when its difficult, and teach how to engage in a conversation that does utilize a loud voice and threats to whip that ass.

I’ve lived with the philosophy that it’s my responsibility to be the man who opens doors for my girls, is the first to buy them roses, takes them out to one of the multiple star eateries and listens to them when their hormones are out of whack and their comments and tone reflect they done lost their mind up in here.  Trust me when I say Krista and Lenise, my daughters, have said and done some things that have taken me to that place where beat downs begin.  I haven’t gone there.  Never.  Lenise is 30-something and Krista is 25.  I refuse to go there because I will hurt the man who does that to them.

Parenting can be humbling.  There have been times when I wanted respect from my children, but the truth is I didn’t deserve any.  That’s what comes with being a pastor.  My children have been hurt by the church.  They have found themselves in bondage due to how things might look if the church folks sawthem out.  People make assumptions.  People talk.  It’s not their fault that you decided to pick up the phone and answer that call from God. 

I’ve made my share of mistakes as both a parent and a pastor, but one thing is clear.  I haven’t choked my girls, kicked my girls and punched my precious little babies.  I dare any man to cross that line.  I will call on Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Jesus and my grandpapa before finding the sucker who has the audacity to use force to get their attention. Not playing that.

I remember the time I was forced to humble with my Sugar Baby.  That’s the name given Krista.  Lenise is Sweet Baby.  I was driving to Durham after picking her up in Charlotte for a weekend visit.  It was after my divorce.  Our times were special.  I used the time driving from Charlotte, don’t hit me, taking care of business on my cell phone.  She was furious.  She started crying.  When I finally ended my business I was near Greensboro.  She let me have it.  She let me have it good.

“I don’t get to see you much, and when I do you stay on that phone,” I was hurt.  Not because I felt disrespected, but because she was right.  I held back the tears.  She kept crying.  I wanted to wipe the tears from her 13-year-old face and tell her I was sorry.  I needed more than words.

Once in Durham, I made my way to the nearest Kroger. I went inside and purchased flowers.  I made my way to the car where she was still fuming.  I patted her window and gave her the little puppy face.  She rolled down the window.  I apologized and promised never to do that again.  I kept my promise.

Since then, both my daughters have had their “let me tell you how I feel” moments. I’ve had to suck it in. Even when I didn’t want to hear it, or when I felt what they said was unfair to me.  Why? Because it’s their truth, and they need to be taught, by their daddy, what it means to be patient, and kind and loving, devoid of conditions.

So, it’s never appropriate to punch, kick or choke those little girls.  We have to show them how to be a man when we fail to get our way. 

Even when they are wrong

Omar Beasley gets 7,500 signatures to run the race

Omar Beasley has the 7,500 signatures needed to allow him to run the race.  More than 10,000 signed the petition, but some were ineligible to vote.  It’s been a grueling battle to get to this point, but Beasley, coach for the Carolina Elite Track Team, has made it to the track.

“Some people think it was easier to go this route,” Beasley told me after giving me the word that he had received enough votes to be placed on the ballot for the Board of County Commissioners.  “This has been a difficult challenge.”

Beasley was forced to run a petition drive due to the timing of his switch from being classified an Independent to Democrat.  He was unable to run as a Democrat during the primary because he didn’t change his classification in time.  It was the first of many roadblocks that exposed Beasley to the tough political culture in Durham.

“It’s a dirty game,” Beasley says.  “You have to learn how to work with people despite all of that.”

Beasley wouldn’t give specifics about Durham’s dirty political culture.  What is clear is that many didn’t want him to run.  He was asked to end his bid for the office.  The official word of him making it to the race has significant bearing on the political endorsement of the five survivors of the primary.  The People’s Alliance and the Durham Committee on the Affairs of Black People endorsed only four candidates in the primary.  Will both do the same in November?  Will either include Beasley among the four given each lost candidates in the primary?

It’s conceivable that the Durham Committee will endorse Michael Page, Brenda Howerton and  Beasley.  There’s talk among members of the Durham Committee about not endorsing Foster.  It is believed that Foster has swayed too far in support of the PA’s agenda, and the price could be replacing Foster with Beasley.

 Foster was seen passing out the PA slate during the primary instead of the Durham Committee’s list of candidates.  Foster received the Durham Committee endorsement despite his stance against 751.  Many wonder about his position against 751 given how the development could create jobs for blacks living in Durham.  His position against 751 is considered to be in conflict with his role as President of Durham’s chapter of the NAACP. How does one take a position against jobs when part of the agenda of the NACCP is finding work for those who need it the most?

Foster’s strong showing in the primary was the result of endorsements from both the Durham Committee and PA.  The recent grumbling regarding Foster is reason to slow the roll on the push to place him on the board to fill the seat left by Joe Bowser after he resigned. 

 The People’s Alliance is certain to endorse Ellen Rechkow, Wendy Jacobs and Foster.  They may endorse a fourth person, and if that happens they are left with Beasley.  Given their attack on Page and Howerton due to the 751 project, it is unlikely that they will shift in supporting either.  Beasley makes sense as a fourth endorsement, but it comes at the risk of losing Foster if the Durham Committee fails to endorse him.

What is clear is the will of the people.  The gathering of 7,500 signatures has to be respected by those holding political endorsements in their hands.  The difference between Beasley and the other candidates is significant.  Maybe that’s what Beasley meant when he mentioned the dirt in Durham.  The scramble for those precious endorsements can be filled with compromise.  It’s a tug of war that pits the fight for jobs against our ecosystem.  The two bullies in the room keep fighting the candidates to determine which one will end up with the lunch money.

“I want to thank the 7,500 and the 2,845 who signed for giving me a chance,” Beasley says.  That’s a lot of people who signed for him to run. 10,345 people placed their name on a petition.  Some weren’t registered to vote.  Some names weren’t legible.  Others had moved and couldn’t be found in the system, but they all signed for Beasley to run.

Many people worked to get Beasley on the track.  “I want to thank everyone who worked with me to make this happen,” Beasley says.  “It would not have happened if not for them.”

There’s a significant difference between what Beasley accomplished and what others achieved to be placed on the track.  They decided to run.  The people cheered Beasley on and decided to allow him to run.  Beasley understands running.  He’s a track coach. 

He’s on the track now. Run Omar run.

Looking for Soul Food in a city consumed with Sushi

It’s disturbing to me that it’s easier to find a place in Durham with sushi than Soul Food. Don’t get me wrong, I love sushi.  I’ve been to them all - Sushi Love, Yamazushi, Mount Fuji, Shiki Sushi, Sansui, Peony - yes I love sushi.  As much as I crave raw fish wrapped in sticky rice, you would think Durham would be known more for Soul Food.

  Nope.

There are a few holes in the walls to keep me happy.  There’s the Chicken Hut on Fayetteville Street across from the Food Lion.  Pan Pan is in the Northgate Mall.  Get this. Pan Pan is owned by an Asian family.   I’m not hating on the owners of Pan Pan, but I’m used to Soul Food being cooked by black people with old recipes from grandma’s cookbook.

The lack of Southern cuisine in a city known for all things Southern is troubling. Back home in St. Louis I’m forced to choose between Del Monico’s and Sweetie Pies.  It’s a shame that the Midwest does Soul Food better than the place known for the Black Wall Street. Could it be that black culture in Durham has assimilated into mass culture?  Is it possible that the death of Soul Food reflects a deeper concern regarding the traditions of black folks living in the Bull City?

With all the chat about Durham being a wonderful diverse community, I’m beginning to wonder what price has been paid for that diversity.  Has Durham become a place that celebrates and honors the mixtures of different cultures, or have different cultures taken over a community that was deeply embedded in black culture?  Is Durham changing due to gentrification?  Has the reconstruction of Downtown Durham combined with the influx of people from other places forced a transition that compromises black culture?

Do people in Durham care?  If not, what happens as a consequence of the apathy related to preserving that culture and communicating the history of Durham’s black community?  Do we even care?  The logical response is to say yes, but consider the truth screaming in our faces.  

Exhibit A. Consider Chuck Davis and the African American Dance Ensemble.  It pains me that the organization maintains an office in the basement of the Art’s Council.  Is that the best Durham can do to celebrate the work of one considered a pioneer in introducing African Dance to America?  Shame on Durham for relegating Davis and his company to the basement of the Art’s Council.  Is that the way we honor a living legend? 

Exhibit B. The sad state of the Hayti Heritage Center.  It started with a broken air conditioner.  Activities at the center were put on hold because there wasn’t enough cash to keep the place cool.  You have to be kidding me.  How did that happen?  If it wasn't hard enough to find $200,000 to fix the A/C, add the bad news that the nonprofit has to pay back a portion of a Golden Leaf grant due to the misappropriation of funds.

The Heritage Center was awarded $300,000 to develop a “permanent exhibition and cultural tourism trail”.  After receiving $240,000 of the grant, the remaining $60,000 was rescinded after it was discovered V. Dianne Pledger, the former executive director, misappropriated the funds.  Pledger resigned from the center prior to the disclosure of the audit findings.

Those who read this account will be quick to throw stones at Hayti and Pledger, but there is more to this story than meets the headline.  This isn’t about Pledger taking money and funneling it into her personal account.  This is not about a poorly managed organization that needs a kick in the behind for failing to properly handle their business. Pledger got caught up in having to rob Peter to pay Paul, and was unable to get enough money from Jane to give back to Peter.

Hayti suffers due to being undercapitalized.  Why is that?  

How does one sleep when payroll has to be covered in there is no money in the coffers to pay those who worked hard over the past two weeks?  How do you sleep knowing the only way to cover expenses is to lay folks off, or, maybe I should.  Maybe I shouldn’t….Okay, I’ll pay them from those restricted funds and pray the good Lord makes a way for me to put it back before it’s too late.

Yes, it’s wrong, but who is to blame for Pledger being put in that position?  We are.  We have failed to support Hayti in a way that offers long term stability.  Don’t we care enough to want more than what has been there?  Durham deserves more than this, and it’s our fault that we haven’t received more.

When I say we let me make it clear what I mean by that resounding we.  It’s the black community I blame.  It’s our history and culture.  It’s our art and music and dance that deserve to be showcased.  We have sacrificed our own by failing to subsidize organizations that reflect who we are as a people.  We may have stopped singing “We Shall Overcome”, but we should never forget the lyrics to that song!

Yes, I love sushi, but every now and then I want smothered chicken with collard greens and corn bread.  If this continues the only thing we’ll have left is the sushi.

Discussion on race proves we have a long way to go

A funny thing happened on the journey for truth.  I’m not sure how it happened, but it did.  She called it a “perfect storm”.  I’ve never thought of myself as a hurricane. Maybe a thunderstorm, but I’m not one who brings damaging winds.

It began with my answering comments on the INC Listserve. I’m new to the site, so I wasn’t sure about the ground rules.  I was introduced to the site after one of my blogs.  Someone was kind enough to post it on the site.  I decided to marry the site.  Why not?  Folks were talking local politics, and that’s where I lay my hat from time to time.

Then it came.  Before I could blink my eyes and take a few deep breaths, she came after me.  I mean, ole girl came hard.  I felt like her intent was to decapitate me with her words about black people.  It was innocent at first.  I concluded it was a case of simple misunderstanding.  I decided to help her understand more about what it feels like to walk in my skin.  Ole girl wasn’t having it.  It became an attack on me.

“You nailed it, Carl.  You have a social agenda.  It's the elephant on your back that takes over the room when you're applying for the job. (The following is said with love, like a sister hollering at her brother)  You choose to wear your hair in dredlocks, "daring" white folks to accept the way you look,” Christine Chamberlain responded to one of my comments.  “You fly in the face of logic and common sense, and then use the "racism" defense for why you can't get a job.  You're a mess Carl, and I'd like nothing better than to give you a hair cut, a swift kick in the butt, and say "quit whining!"  I've met too many successful black men in my lifetime to buy what you're sellin'. 

No she didn’t.  But first, let me give some context.  It all began with my attempt to expound on the notion of assumptions of privilege.  My hope was to hold a conversation about how race and racism show up in ways that many fail to see.  I used my own grapple with finding work in Durham as an example of how race plays out in social settings. Her retort was to blame me, and all like me, for failing to acquiesce to legitimate white culture.

This is the statement that took her over the edge. "I've tried to share my own struggles with living in Durham.  My point is this folks, if a black man with all I have to bring to the table can't make it in Durham, what does that say about others with less education and experience?  Is my own struggle due to race?  More than likely it's deeper than that, but, nonetheless, I'm part of that community.  What can be said about that?  Nothing other than an educated black man with a social agenda can't make it in Durham."  

Chamberlain took issue when I mentioned the pain related to witnessing white women cross the street when I approach. She asked me how many white people would it take walking across the street with me to undo the two who crossed when they saw me coming.  I told her it would never be enough due to how it keeps happening over and over again.  Of course it was hyperbole.  My hope was to speak in extreme terms to bring emphasis to those emotions.  It didn’t work.

She didn’t like my answer so she asked a few friends to clarify. “All black males (a doctor at Duke, an accountant and an electrical engineer) to give feedback on your emails over the last couple weeks,” she wrote to affirm the credibility of her witnesses. “Each one said, and I'm paraphrasing, "He's spinning his wheels, that's all he'd doing.  He's stuck like a broken record."  The doctor at Duke said it the best when he told me Condaleeza Rice's quote....“If you are taught bitterness and anger, then you will believe you are a victim." ~ Condaleeza Rice.

That’s when I came close to taking her out to the wood shed for an old school but whopping.  The nerve of her, I thought, to imply I’m a victim.  Let me remind you that each comment made was a response to her assertions.  I used it all as a chance to engage in a deeper discussion about race.  I hoped that others would chime in and add greater voice to what was on the table. 

Many people got it.  Joy Mickle-Walker suggested she read “Race Matters” by Cornel West.  I thought it was a great suggestion. Others called for creative strategies to overcome the cycle.  I’m with them on that one.  Will Wilson offered NC Listserve to hold a discussion on race.  Darius Little reminded members of the listserve that there aren’t enough black people to warrant the group taking the lead.  John Martin, president of the InterNeighhood Council of Durham (the body behind the listserve) kindly asked that we fight somewhere else.

I agreed to play nice. Before doing so there was something I had to get off my chest.  Chamberlain told me she wanted to cut my hair and spank me.  I had to respond to that, so here it is for those who missed it on the listserve.  

Your thoughts are welcome.  Something tells me this one isn’t over yet. So, you may want to take a break, grab a drink and take notes.

To all,

Before I respond to Christine let me set the record straight.  I am not an angry black man.  I’m not blaming “the white man” for keeping me down.  My intent is not to fight for the continuation of the type of rhetoric that keeps people fragmented due to some past evil.  I regard myself an advocate for peace and understanding. 

I have used my own grapples as an illustration regarding the ways race and racism pops up in our fine city.  I have offered a perspective.  My hope has been to generate a deeper conversation involving the covert nature of racism.  My point has been simple. If a man like me has a hard time making those ends meets, what about those with less to bring to the table.

These conversations began after a blogpost.  For those who don’t know, I began writing columns for the Herald-Sun in 1997.  Since then I have dedicated my life and work to helping people see beyond their assumptions.  That process has offered me the benefit of opening my own eyes to the malice immersed in my assumptions.  I have grown.  My prayer is that others have down the same.

My journey has been an amazing one.  The man I have become is one that I love more than the one who began writing back in 1997.  I see the world different because I have taken time to listen.  I’m a better Christian now.  I have traveled around the world to discover the rich diversity of faith. I have embraced people who don’t look or think like me, and, as a result, admitted that my world view was too small.  My journey has become a quest for understanding beyond my on enculturation.

I am incredibly comfortable in my skin.  I love it while refusing to worship it.  So, with that being said, let me talk to Christine.

Christine,

Your argument is an affirmation of my point.  I thank you for that.  What you have failed to consider is how you serve as the embodiment of everything I have attempted to teach.  Yes, I said teach.  Why that word - because each of us has a lesson to be shared.  My hope has been to help you and others understand what it means to be me.  I conceded that my experience, as a black man, is a unique experience.  It would be hyperbole to suggest that every black man has experienced things the way I have.  We are individuals.  Each brings a set of issues that weigh heavy in how the rest comes to bear.

You say I am a mess.  I say you have failed to listen.  Let me begin with my hair.  Your comments are rooted in, once again, an assumption of your own privilege.  You base your claim on a thought regarding legitimate culture.  In your mind my hair is nasty and, as you put it, needs to be cut.  You follow that up with a reminder of what happened to black men who refused to be called “Toby”.  You want to spank me for my rebellion.  Sorry dear, my name Kunte Kente, and I refuse to bow to your conception of how I should look or think.

What you have not considered, due to your lack of understanding, is why I have locked my hair.  We call them locs, not dreadlocks.  Why? Because that label implies something to be dreaded. So, let me give you a history lesson.  Take notes.  You may need them.

The first known example of locs date back to ancient Egypt.  Mummified remains of ancient Egyptians with locs have been recovered from archaeological sites.  Spiritualist of all faiths and backgrounds incorporate them into their paths as a way to symbolize a disregard for physical appearance and vanity.  In the West, the Nazarite is known for locs. In the East, Yogis, Gyanis, and Tapasvis of all sects are famous bearers of locs.

The Ashanti people and other related Akan groups of Ghana reserved locs for their spiritual leaders or okomfo.  The warriors of the Massi nation of Kenya are famous for their long red locs.  In various cultures what are known as Fetish priest, sangomas, or shamans, spiritual men and women often wore locs. In Benin the Yoruba priest of Olokun, the Orisha of the deep ocean wear locs.  The Himba people in the southeast Congo-Kinshasa, the Fang people of Gabon, the Mende of Sierra Leone, and the Turkana people of Kenya all have hair like me.

You also find it among Sadhus and Sadhvis Indian holy men and women.  They consider it a religious practice and an expression of their disregard for profane vanity as well as a symbol of their spiritual understanding that physical appearance is unimportant.  It is found within Tibetan Buddhism, a few Sufi groups such as Qalandari and folks like me.

What you have failed to regard, due to a lack of understanding, is the deep spiritual statement connected to my decision.  Your assertion that I cut them, albeit rooted in a lack of understanding, confirms my contention about positions of privilege.  You, and your black friends, are asserting that black identity and the celebration of that rich heritage must be stripped if one is to make it in this society rooted in white cultural expressions.

What fuels your indifference? Is it the fact that a black man is bold enough to question your authority? Is it the possibility that your privilege stands in the way of others versus your view that they lack more due to something they have failed to do? Why your drive to confirm your contention by using black folks to fight that other black boy? Does their journey negate my own?  Why the need to make me wrong?  It’s a perspective rooted in my own experience, but you are bent on minimizing the implications of those assertions? Why? What drives your need to defeat those claims.

I’m not going to call you a racist.  I don’t know you well enough to do that. And, although you have attacked my character and taken more time than necessary to confirm your contention that I am a “mess”, I refuse to call you a racist.  That’s your own cross to bear.

What I am is a free black man.  Unlike others you may seek out to confirm your thoughts, I’m free to write and think free from the potential consequences that come with freedom.  I pay a price for that, and that was the point I made about being a man with an agenda.  My agenda is to be a prophet who remains free. 

Freedom means standing with the rejected.  I take on the image of those who you claim suffer because of all those stereotypes you spit.   I have chosen to become the rejected for the sake of sharing in their suffering.  I’ve decided to let go of my privilege to confront their rejection.  I need for you to understand this, no one has taken it away, I decided to remove myself from what could be mine to advocate for those who look like me.

That’s what freedom looks like Christine.  Deal with it.  As for those black friends you go to, tell them I’m proud of them for their achievement.  With that being said, I’ll place my own against anyone I meet.  I take no pride in what I have achieved.  I’m willing to sacrifice it all for my brothers and sisters who suffer due to the way they are viewed.  That means anyone poor, unemployed, underemployed and it means my standing for the LGBT community.  I do so because that’s what it means for me to walk by faith.  It means picking up this cross for them.  Even if it means I die.

As for you cutting my hair – read the Bible. That’s what got a dude named Samson in trouble.  This is a spiritual decision.  Deal with it.

The nation's love affair with John Edwards comes to an end

I’m still shaking my head after the John Edwards verdict.  This is one of those OMG moments followed with an old fashioned SMH.  He was found not guilty on one count, and the jury was hung on the remaining five.

It’s not the verdict that has me yelling at God, it’s the situation.  The more I think about it, the more irritated I get.  The stuff that has me fuming isn’t about old dude getting his freak on with a hussy holding a camera.  It’s the fact that he smiled in our faces while giving a pitch on his being the best man to lead the nation.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m no prude.  I have so many bags that I can’t board the plane.  I’ve done my share of things I want to hide.  Most people do.  I’m not admitting to doing anything wrong, but I’m not denying that I have.  Put another way, that’s my own business.  Stay out of my business and I will keep my snout out of your mess. Deal?

I have sense enough to understand the implications connected with smiling before the people with sweet mama sitting in the front row.   I’m not condoning Edward’s for getting his mistress pregnant, convincing his friend to lie about the baby being his and paying loads of cash to make it go away.  That’s foul to the 100^th degree.  It’s the kind of drama that reminds me of discussions at the picnic table during a family reunion.

Edwards is correct to assert that he has done his share of wrong, and that he has to contend with his own sins.  It’s the worst case of one bad thing leading to another sense King David decided to hook up with a chick name Bathsheba. The story from the Hebrew Bible is a reminder that even the best of men and women get caught up in situations that leave you wondering about their state of mind.

The nations love affair with Edwards came to a swift end.  I wasn't prepared for what came after the National Inquirer spotted Edwards being too intimate with that woman. I understand why people have a hard time dealing with why Edwards did it all.  How could he while running for President? How could he with a sick wife?  Those are questions we may never resolve, and the truth is it’s up to Edwards to deal with all that.  He is correct to assert that he is accountable for his own sins.  With all of that on the proverbial table, there’s more to ponder, and it’s not Edwards we need to consider.  It’s the American mentality. 

Maybe this case reveals the massive assumptions that lead to our love affair with people like Edwards.

Why did people love him so much?  Was it the very thing that got him in trouble – his look and charisma?  Was it his message or haircut?  Was it his climb to the top of his profession or was it his place on the top?  Was it the man so many loved, or was it the image of the man and how they wanted to be just like John?

Those who endorsed Edwards loved what he represented.  Edwards rose to the top of his political class because of all the intangibles that we refuse to admit we love.  We love putting our faith in millionaires with nice hair who woo us with talk about caring for the poor and ostracized.  It all seems so real.  Is it? Have we been tricked into believing all that hype while Dr. Jekyll is around the corner waiting for Mr. Hyde?

This hurts because of how it reveals what it takes to get in the good graces of Americans.  You can pay for an image.  If you have enough money you can trick people into believing you are a different person.  A cargo of cash combined with a good public relations firm is enough to get your name on the ballot to become President of the United States.  You can make those mistakes go away with enough cash.

This is what comes with money and power.  This is what we have created.  We want perfect people leading the way.  When there are skeletons in the closet you can pay to make it all go away. 

OMG.  Who can you trust when money can make it all go away?