Friday, December 10, 2021

Conflict over Durham youth detention center raises conflicting answers: New questions, please

 Rev-elution is an independent, local, Black-owned, and Black focused news outlet. It is entirely sustained by the contributions of readers. Please support by contributing at: Cash App, $CMizzou, or Venmo, @Carl-Kenney-1.


COMMENTARY: Determining the right answer begins with asking the right question.

What games do young people play when there’s no place to go?

The answer is horrifying. Some play bang, bang at The Streets at Southpoint and other places in Durham.

The follow-up question is even more dismaying. What do we do with youth when we’re fed up with their play?

Lock them up and throw away the keys. Wrong answer.

Recent skirmishes at Durham’s lavish mall have triggered the panic button among residents preparing for Christmas shopping. On December 8, one person was assaulted during a robbery outside a store at the mall.  This follows an incident on Black Friday that has residents increasing the rate of head scratching aimed at making sense of the madness. Three people were wounded, and three others were injured. The shooting victims include a 10-year-old, injured by a ricocheting bullet.

Criminals are getting younger. Is that true? What happens when children get caught in playing deadly games? Do we lock them up? Do we send them away? Do we give them another chance? How many?

What about their victims?

Questions. Questions. Questions.

One more question. What happens when clashing answers respond to a different question?

The answer – a ball of confusion.

On Monday, members of the Durham Board of County Commissioners will vote on the construction of a new and expanded $30 million youth detention center with space to house 60 juveniles.

County officials say the plan follows a court order to create an alternative to separate juveniles and adults in the Durham County jail. The order was part of the settlement in a civil lawsuit filed by Julia Graves after the death of her 17-year-old daughter, Uniece Gleanae Fennell, who was found hanging by County detention officers at the County detention center. Fennell was a minor at the time of her death. She occupied more than a year in jail after being charged in a drive-by shooting.

What do we learn from Fennell’s death?

The answer, according to County officials, is to build a separate place for juveniles facing felonies. The alternative is to locate places outside the county. It’s not the perfect answer, but is there a more valid option?

Members of Durham Beyond Police (DBP) have a different answer. No more jails. No more prisons. No more police. Invest all the money in prevention. All of it.

DBP’s answer addresses what to do before a juvenile has a gun in their hand. Another imperfect answer.

The varied answers reflect responses to different, albeit connected, questions.

DBP answer, “what games do young people play when there’s no place to go?”

County officials answer, “what do we do with youth when we’re fed up with their play?”

DBP offers the correct answer. We need wraparound services to support troubled youth and their parents.

County officials get it right. We need an alternative to the outdated youth detention center and to sending juveniles to another county.

One answer stops the problem before it happens. The other addresses what to do after things are out of control.

The answer may require a different set of questions.

It is true. The criminal justice system sucks. The school to prison pipeline is a real “thing”. It is true, more money needs to be invested in mental health options.

It is true. Juveniles are committing violent crimes. We can’t treat them like adults, but…but, what’s the answer?

It may help to accept the frailty of most of the answers. They fit the bottomless agendas of policy makers stuck on the assumptions of their campaign speeches and mission statements. When it becomes more critical to prove the merits of their claims, the answer consumes the breath of youth clinging to life.

This is not a dissertation or master’s thesis. This is not a problem to be solved with the victor winning the great prize - the prize of elected office. The lives of Black and Brown youth transcend the movement of pieces on a chess board. No, this is not a game.

We hear your answer.

Let’s try a different question.

What can we do to support youth caught up in a world of trouble after having no place to play?

Another imperfect question.

The right answer is on both sides of the table.

Your move.

 

Monday, November 29, 2021

Pioneers Church is treading on holy ground

Rev-elution is an independent, local, Black-owned, and Black focused news outlet. It is entirely sustained by the contributions of readers. Please support by contributing at: Cash App, $CMizzou, or Venmo, @Carl-Kenney-1.


commentary – Spaces are made sacred by virtue of the people who gather to make it home. These welcoming and affirming places are more than temples where lessons about faith are taught to separate wolves from lambs.

It matters when a congregation is planted on sacred ground.

Close to 6,500 people have signed a petition to prevent Pioneers Church from opening its doors in the area made holy when residents Married Durham.

Pioneers Durham is a retail, coffee, and co-working space in the Hutchings Auto Supply Building located at 402 W. Geer Street. The revenue from Pioneers Durham will be used to fund Pioneers Church, a new congregation led by Sherei Lopez-Jackson and her partner Daniel Jackson.

The petition chides Lopez-Jackson for supporting the position of the United Methodist Church to withhold ordination from LGBTQ+ persons and supporting her denominations opposition of same sex relationships.

“Under the limits of my ordinations (united Methodist Church) and my own convictions, I am not permitted to marry people within the LGBTQ+ community,” Lopez-Jackson said in response to her critics.

More than 2,000 people took vows on March 19, 2011, during Marry Durham

“Today, we marry each other. Beyond race, beyond gender, beyond class, beyond sexual orientation, beyond religion and all other declarations,” are part of the vows I wrote binding residents to each other with a deeper commitment to protect our mutual interest.

Residents of Durham evoked the spirit of their vows when Republican State Senator Peter Brunstetter introduced Senate Bill 514, Amendment One, to the North Carolina General Assembly in September 2011.

Not in the Bull City.

Durham responded with a resounding hell to the no when the Public Facilities Privacy and Security Act (HB2) took effect on March 23, 2016. HB2 required people to use the bathroom corresponding to their biological sex as the designation appearing on an individual’s birth certificate.

Not in the Bull City.

“We are married by our thoughts,” that’s what I said that day. “We are married by a love made deeper by the strength of the others in our community. We are more than the labels others create to separate and define. We are married to the truth of universal claims. We are more powerful because of every you in our city.”

More than 2,000 people said yes to that. We meant every word. We’ve proven it by our enduring love for every person who lives in the Bull City – beyond race, beyond religion, beyond gender, and, yes, beyond sexual orientation.

I meant every word I spoke that day. We all meant it.

We prove it by how we vote. We don’t always agree, but the vows still matter. They have shaped how we think about Durham. Ten years later, we continue to be impacted by the day we Married Durham.

It happened in the shadow of Pioneers Church.

There are hundred of congregations in Durham. Many endorse the position of Pioneers Church. They don’t accept the ordination of LGBTQ+ persons. They refuse to marry same sex couples. Durham is a community with diverse theological viewpoints.

Not all ministers think like me.

Granted, but it matters that I officiated a wedding with vows aimed at defining the heart of Durham.

“I promise to promote the strengths of the city I love, rather than to demean and destroy the reputation when I disagree with the actions of others I vow to love,” I said that. I meant that. I still do.

Churches are being planted across the city. These gentrifying churches are planted to claim territory for their hipper version of Jesus. They mingle a chic marketing strategy with a Bibicalist bent. They bring a new swag to a white evangelical theological perspective under the guise of a more modern, friendlier version of Jesus.

They occupy territory like the Crusaders intent on winning souls to their homophobic white Jesus. They offer coffee and pastries with space for millennial business owners while rejecting the humanity of men and women in search of safe spaces to gather in peace.

We honor a moment in time where hands were held, and the collective dreams of residents mingled to pioneer a new movement. Statements were made about what we desire to be in a city made holy by a love transcendent of all our difference.

Geer Street is holy ground.

It’s the place where we said “I do” to what it means to be a community committed to loving and embracing each other beyond differences.

Not in the Bull City.

Thursday, November 11, 2021

"State of Urgency": A play reflecting the perspective of Hillside High School Drama Department students

Rev-elution is an independent, local, Black-owned, and Black focused news outlet. It is entirely sustained by the contributions of readers. Please support by contributing at: Cash App, $CMizzou.


Students in the Hillside high school Drama Department gathered to discuss what they have seen. What they’ve heard was followed by the emotions of what they feel. The thoughts and feelings in the room were translated into a play.

The name “State of Urgency” is the best way to reflect the sentiments of young people who have witnessed people their age die too soon. They’re witnessing a new wave of gun violence in streets once known as their playgrounds. They’ve grown up in the shadow of white supremacy recast with an alt-right political agenda.

They’ve seen too much. When will it stop? Does anyone care?

The timing couldn’t be better. The outcry following the murder of Jamal McClinton Coltrane, 31, intensified conversations regarding fighting gun violence. Coltrane was involved in “Bikes Up, Guns Down,” a group dedicated to derailing gun violence with dirt bikes.

Coltrane was the 39th person to die from gun violence in 2021.

Durham is faced with a “State of Urgency.”

Wendell Tabb, the award-winning Performing and Visual Arts Director of Theatre at Hillside High School, says the play captures the thoughts and emotions of the young people in his drama program.

“With so much violence and unrest going on in the world, it was easy for me to consider a show that would address such social justice issues as Gun Violence, Police Brutality, Racism, Discrimination and Poverty to name a few. I wanted to do my part as a change agent. My commitment to our school and community led me to create an original play to address these social issues,” Tabb said.  “I am proud of the voices that Hillside students have given to these topics that are having a major impact on their lives daily.”

This is Hillside Drama Department’s first major stage production since the pandemic upended their season of shows in March 2020. “State of Urgency” will run Friday, November 12th at 7:15 p.m., Saturday, November 13th at 3:15 p.m. and 7”15 p.m., and Sunday, November 14th at 3:15 p.m. All tickets can be purchased online at: www.seatyourself.biz/hillside.

“This is a wonderful opportunity to not only entertain, but to inform and educate our community on contemporary issues plaguing our society, specifically our youth," William Logan, principal at Hillside High School, said. "This is a great chance for our students to make a difference in the lives of their peers."

Tabb is calling for “all hands on deck” with a call to end gun violence. Organizations committed to change have booths at the play. It’s a collective exhale of enough is enough.

 Every great movement in American history began with a vision from young people. They often see the world with a perspective hidden by people too old to recognize the brewing chaos hindering dreams.

It’s a “State of Urgency”.

All hands on deck.

Wednesday, November 10, 2021

Who will Durham Black voters support to replace U.S. Congressman David Price?

 Rev-elution is an independent, local, Black-owned, and Black focused news outlet. It is entirely sustained by the contributions of readers. Please support by contributing at: Cash App, $CMizzou.

 

The lineup of potential candidates to replace U.S. Congressman David Price feels like a pileup on Highway 40 during rush hour traffic. The clash between Cary, Chapel Hill and Durham is a reminder of the impact of road rage when too many people are headed in the same direction.

Voters are advised to buckle up while doing their best to avoid reckless drivers.

Rumors of Price’s retirement have circulated for years. Candidates have waited, patiently, for the announcement. State Senator Wiley Nickel, 45, announced his campaign with the news of a whopping $253,000 raised within hours of Price’s press conference. He was ready to go before hearing “ready, set, go.”

Nickel was elected to represent the 16th state senate district in 2018. He was groomed as part of Vice President Al Gore’s team from 1996 to 2001 and worked as a member of Barack Obama’s White House national advance staff from 2008 until 2012.

Nida Allam, 27, is first Muslim American woman elected to political office in North Carolina. She was sworn in as a member of the Durham Board of County Commissioners on December 7, 2020. With less than one year of service as an elected official, Allam announced her candidacy for congress on Monday, November 8.

Allam served as the Political Director in North Carolina, South Carolina, New Jersey, and New York for U.S. Senator Bernie Sanders’ 2016 presidential campaign and as an organizing director for Justice Cheri Beasley’s campaign for the North Carolina Supreme Court.

State Senator Valerie Foushee, 65, joined the legislature in 2012. She represented district 50 (Orange and Durham) in the state house before becoming a State Senator after Ellie Kinnaird retirement from District 23. She has deep roots in Orange County politics, having served on the Board of Education for the Chapel Hill-Carrboro City School from 1997 to 2008 and the Orange County Board of County Commissioner from 2008-2010.

Floyd McKissick, Jr, 68, is known both for his name and work as a longtime Durham politician. He is the namesake of his father, the former leader of the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), and founder of Soul City in Warren County, NC. After serving on the Durham City Council from 1993 to 2001, McKissick, Jr. was selected by the Durham Democratic Party to fill the vacancy in the district 20 senate seat after the death of Jeanne Lucas. McKissick was the chairman of the Durham County Democratic Party, which raised questions related to conflict of interest in the selection process.

On March 17, 2004, he was disciplined by the NC State Bar for professional misconduct involving a conflict of interest. The bar determined that McKissick inappropriately represented both sides in a 2000 dispute involving the estate of an elderly man.

McKissick was appointed to the North Carolina Utilities Commission by Governor Roy Cooper for a term expiring on June 30, 2025.

Mike Woodard, 62, has served in the North Carolina Senate since 2013. Before being elected to the State Senate, Woodward was a member of the Durham City Council from 2005 to 2013. He’s also an administrator at Duke University and the Duke University Health System.

Price was first elected to Congress in 1986. He was reelected for three terms before losing in 1994 to former Raleigh police chief Fred Heineman by a margin of less than 1%. In 1996, Price defeated Heineman in a rematch. Price has maintained control of the district for 33 years.

Key among Durham Black voters is the role of Tracy Lovett, Price’s longtime district liaison. Lovett is the daughter of Willie C. Lovett, the former chair of the Durham Committee on the Affairs of Black People and member of the North Carolina Democratic Party Executive Committee. Before his death in 1992, Lovett won the primary to represent Durham in the State House Representatives. As a District Liason, Lovett has sustained relationships with Black Durham residents making it easier to embrace Price, a congressman with no natural ties to Durham.  

Wiley’s strength is in Wake County, where he has garnered several high-level endorsements. Foushee, a Black woman, is attractive to Durham’s Black community, but her limited ties to Durham is a challenge before the primary.

McKissick is a known entity with deep ties to the Black community. Some fear his past issues regarding conflict of interest will be used against him in a head-to-head race against a Republican candidate. McKissick, like all Durham based state politicians, has never been challenged by a Republican.

Woodward is candidate with longevity of service. Recently, he fought proposals to make it illegal to teach Black history in public schools. He knows Durham culture and the issues that resonate with residents.

Black voters desire a Black representative. Black women desire a Black woman.

In the race to Congress, Durham Black voters’ matter.

 

 

 

 

Monday, November 8, 2021

Can Durham County Commissioner Nida Allam get elected to Congress despite having a Black people problem?

Support Rev-elution by contributing at: Cash App, $CMizzou

COMMENTARY – Few people are surprised by Nida Allam’s announcement that she’s running for U.S. Congress. It’s been expected before she was elected to serve on the Durham Board of County Commissioners just over a year ago. I repeat, just over a year ago.

Durham was a step to the next step. Win one to get one. In this case, a small fish in a small pond in hope of becoming a big fish in the ocean.

Some people say it’s too soon. She hasn’t served long enough. Others say she hasn’t done enough. She hasn’t paid her dues. The Democratic Party elite are interested in a candidate who has a proven track record. It’s not cool to step in front of the line.

That’s true, but there is a more pressing question when it comes to Allam’s candidacy.

Allam, the first Muslim American woman to be elected to office in North Carolina, has a Black people problem.

Members of the Durham Committee on the Affairs of Black People claim Allam made a promise not to vote to terminate former Durham County Manager Wendell Davis. If true, she broke her promise. More troubling is her lack of sensitivity after the vote was made.

After a series of reports on Rev-elution, regarding discontent among Black residents, Allam supported the agenda set by Wendy Jacobs, the former chair of the board.

When Durham County employees requested a meeting with members of the board to discuss concerns after Davis’ dismissal, Allam remained silent. When community leaders pressed the board to follow the recommendations of both the county/city appointed Racial Equity Task Force and James E. Coleman, the attorney hired by the county to investigate racial bias and unfair treatment in county government, Allam failed to force accountability.

On March 8, Allam blocked the recommendation of County Attorney Lowell Siler to secure the services of The Robert Bobb Group to offer racial equity training. Allam sided with other commissioners to pursue training after county staff brought two more training proposals to review. Board Chair Brenda Howerton was the only member of the commission to oppose the plan.

Allam followed the argument stated on social media by members of People’s Alliance and The Durham Association of Educators. They noted Robert Bobb’s past as a consultant in Detroit, MI. Some Black residents watching the virtual commissioners meeting noted disdain in addressing Bobb and Siler. Both men are Black.

On March 22, The Durham Committee on the Affairs of Black People released a statement requesting commissioners apologize for the “blatant disrespect shown” at the meeting.

“The community witnessed first-hand how certain county commissioners treat Black County staff and a Black consultant seeking to provide much needed, individualized services,” the letter read.

Allam, Jacobs and Heidi Carter released statements refuting charges of disrespect. The three commissioners stated their reluctance to employ the services of The Robert Bobb Group was rooted in favoring procurement practices that seek multiple bids.

Allam agreed with the assessment of People’s Alliance, the mostly white Durham based political action committee, that Davis’s contract should not be renewed because he’s too moderate and is paid too much.

Black residents haven’t forgotten Allam’s role in the unravelling of race relations in Durham.  

It’s too soon. She can’t be trusted to listen to Black voters. She failed to build significant relationships with the people on the other side of the decision to oust the former County Manager.

Can Allam win without the support of Black voters? A clue comes from Twitter.

A shout out from Keith Allison followed by a tweet from Ihan Omar. If Allam has her way, the race for Congress will not be determined by local Black voters. It will be won by the support of the national media and progressive politicians desirous of an addition to The Squad - joining Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY), Ayanna Pressley (D-MA), Ihan Omar (D-MN), and Rashida Tlaib (D-MI).

I advise slowing your roll before jumping into the ocean. The small fish in Durham desire being heard and respected before giving you a lift.



 

Wednesday, November 3, 2021

Elaine O'Neal becomes Durham's first Black woman to be elected mayor: rekindling the power of Black faith

Support the work of Rev-elution by contributing at Cash App, $CMizzou

 

COMMENTARY - The Election Watch party transformed into a worship service with family members on stage praising God for the victory.

Elaine O’Neal is Durham’s first Black woman elected to serve as mayor. She conjured a thought from a popular question about Jesus – can anything good come from West End. It was a statement rooted in memories of growing up on streets in the shadow of Duke University and white privilege. It was a statement about days long before Chester Jenkins became Durham’s first Black mayor in 1989.

It was a statement about not knowing the day would come.

Durham’s future mayor held a tambourine in one hand while belting out her praise. Being surrounded by a family choir was another statement. It is about being grounded in something deeper than an impressive resume. The praise is about knowing what guides the work she plans to achieve. It is about a culture entrenched in the pride of the witness of mama’s and daddy’s who encouraged O’Neal to walk with her head held high when trouble dipped into her soul.

The people in the crowd understood what was happening. It was a return to something missing. O’Neal’s win is about more than an election. It reclaims the culture, legacy, pride, and witness of a community cast aside under the illusion of inclusion.

It’s become unpopular to talk about Black faith. The politics of inclusion forces a separation between the world of faith and what happens in the public square. It’s damaging when faith is used as a weapon to exclude people from other traditions. Loving and being community becomes complicated when a political celebration becomes a moment of praise.

There is a more fundamental question. What happens when the faith of Black people is taken away? What happens if we separate the faith of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr from the Civil Rights Movement? What happens if the songs of that movement are removed from the historical canon?  

I’m reminded of the teachings of my former mentor, Dr. C. Eric Lincoln. Lincoln argued, in the world of black sacred cosmos, there is no separation of the sacred and profane. Faith is lived in every dimension of life, meaning the activity of politics is an expression of the life of Black communal faith. It’s part of the history and culture of Black people.

Assimilating into places reflective of the goals of an inclusive culture comes with painful implications. It often requires the abandonment of the heart and soul of a people defined by their common faith. That faith transcends the measures of religion. It’s the core of Black culture. It’s the naming and claiming of more than a Black woman being elected Durham’s mayor. It’s more than her victory. It’s a reminder of what we can achieve together.

That’s what has been missing in Durham. A faith that we are being carried, together. A common dream rooted in a thought – the Lord will make a way, somehow. It’s the search for what Howard Thurman calls the “beloved community” yearning for an irreducible essence rooted in the search for connectedness.  It’s an affirmation that our differences can be overcome by a thirst transcendent of the things that make us different.

O’Neal’s faith is not a tool of separation. It’s the type of faith that Black people have historically used to move mountain. Her faith is a celebration of what we can become, together.

“This is what God wanted. This is God’s will,” a tall Black man announced with a few teardrops to baptize the moment.

I thought of the joy of Black men supporting Black women. The sway of the family choir took us back to former days when gathering on Sunday’s eased the burden of the week. Another reminder of what we can achieve when two or three gather to evoke the gift of a dream.

It’s the day after the election. O’Neal, DeDreana Freeman and Rev. Mark-Anthony Middleton won their elections by landslides. Leonardo Williams narrowly defeated A.J. Williams to join the others on the city council. The exhale of the crowd, when the final tally was announced, felt like a great commissioning after the prophet’s declaration of peace.

It’s time to move some mountains. Come. Black people. Come. White people. Come Latina’s. Join the family of LGBTQIA+1, Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, Bahai, Hindu, atheist and agnostic brothers and sisters. We may sing different praise songs, but we bring our unique cultures to this mountain.

Eyes closed one last time to absorb the truth of the moment.

Economic disparity, crime, gentrification, unemployment – a few of the mountains in the way of shared prosperity.

Move mountain. Get out of our way.

We the Bull City.

Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Former members of the Durham Police Department excited about the return of their newly appointed chief of police

 Rev-elution is funded by the contributions of readers. This site is in process of massive reconstruction with a greater emphasis on Black culture and Black business. To support Rev-elution, for now, go to: Cash App, $CMizzou, or Venmo, @Carl-kenney-1

 

Former officers with the Durham Police Department say the hiring of Patrice Andrews is what is needed to improve morale within the troubled department.

One of the former officers interviewed by Rev-elution noted a message on the Police Department’s Facebook page, posted on October 21.

“Are you aware that Interstate 85 persistently remains in the top 10 crash locations in Durham? Perhaps earlier this week you saw DPD’s Traffic and Crash Team (TACT) and Motor Unit, along with Ofc. J. Harris of Uniform Patrol as they conducted speed enforcement along I-85 North and South between E. Club Boulevard and Cole Mill Road. The highest recorded speed was 97 mph in a 60-mph zone! Officers made 15 vehicle stops.”

A simple message, like so many others on the page. It was the second comment posted minutes later that caught the attention of members of the police department.

“Proud of the work that you all are doing to keep our roads safe! See you soon!”  Patrice Andrews, the newly appointed chief of police, is making a statement. I see you. I affirm you. I look forward to working with you.

It’s that level of familiarity that resonates with many members of the police department. Many say they know and trust the woman who is coming back home after a brief stay not far away.

Andrews, who served five years as the Town of Morrisville Police Chief, replaces C. J. Davis who left Durham to head the Memphis, TN police department. Andrews started her career with the Durham Police Department as a patrol officer in 1997. She’s remembered for advancing up the ranks to become district commander and a captain supervising the Special Victims, Homicide, Domestic Violence, and Fraud units.

Rev-elution interviewed officers who worked with Andrews before she left Durham in 2016. The officers say her leadership style with the rank and file is a better match than Davis, who came to Durham from Atlanta, GA.

“Patrice is more willing to listen to the opinions of others,” a retired officer said on the condition of anonymity. “She takes what others think before making a decision.”

The retired officer noted tension within the police department caused by understaffing and an unwillingness to consider alternatives to maximize current staffing needs.

“Patrice is more of a community person,” another former officer said when questioned about Andrews. “She’s the type of leader who will be out in the community with the people. She will build relationships with everybody.”

A retired officer compared Andrews to former Durham Police Chief Steve Chalmers, who served as chief of police from 2003-2007. After serving on the force for more than 32 years, Chalmers continued efforts to impact the root causes of crime with Men of Vision, a nonprofit he started while serving as police chief.

“She’s like Chalmers. They both care for the community and know the city,” the former officer said. “She’s got that same drive to build programs that make a difference.”

Rev-elution spoke with residents who desired a more transparent process. They imagined a series of community forums with finalist like when Davis was under consideration to become Durham’s police chief. There were four finalists following a national search. Durham City Manager Wanda Page made the decision with the help of nine diverse members of Durham’s community.

In the end, deep connections to Durham made the difference.

"I am confident that Chief Andrews is the right leader for Durham, where she spent most of her law enforcement career," City Manager Wanda Page said in a statement. "I am happy to welcome her back to Durham, where she also has deep family roots and developed lasting relationships in the community while working and living here."

Andrews faces numerous challenges as Durham Chief of Police. She enters a political climate with calls to defund the police. Homicides are rising and increasing disparities complicate strategies to strike the roots of crime. The current police force is witnessing retirements and the exodus of officers to other higher paying, safer municipalities.

According to past members of the police department, there is reason to be excited about Andrews’ return to Durham.

Monday, October 25, 2021

Prayer vigil conjures hope in a new reality

Rev-elution is funded by the contributions of readers. This site is in process of massive reconstruction with a greater emphasis on Black culture and Black business. To support Rev-elution, for now, go to: Cash App, $CMizzou, or Venmo, @Carl-kenney-1

 

THE NAMES OF 38 PEOPLE WERE PRINTED IN BOLD letters on separate pieces of white paper. They were carried to a table and placed underneath rocks to protect them from the wind. The church across from the parking lot summoned thoughts of a holy procession, with an altar, prayers, and homilies reminding us of the lives of the dead.

Ben Haas, director of The Religious Coalition of Nonviolent Durham, welcomed the more than one hundred attendees to a service of grieving. The 29th Annual Vigil Against Violence took place at the Elizabeth Street United Methodist Church.  Because of Covid-19, last years vigil was conducted virtually. The naming of the dead reminded the people present of the worst part of Durham. The senseless deaths of men and women.

It was a mixed crowd of the varied hues of Durham, mingled with a group of politicians who have made reducing homicides part of their platforms. Javiera Cabellero, who suspended her campaign for mayor, stood beside Nida Allam, Wendy Jacobs, and Mayor Steve Schewel. On the opposite side of the parking lot, Elaine O’Neal stood near DeDreana Freeman. I was positioned close to both in an area packed with grieving family members.

The distance exposed more than paces between bodies. The detachment summoned a reminder of both political and societal dissimilarities adding to the pain.

I thought about and prayed for Allam as I looked for names on the Durham Memorial Quilt. The quilt was started by Sidney Brodie in 1994 after the senseless death of two- year-old Shaquana Atwater in Few Gardens. I cried after closing my eyes and calling the names of Allam’s friends – Deah Shaddy Barakat, Yusor Mohammad Abu-Salha, and Razan Mohammad Abu-Salha – all murdered by a white man with a history of threatening Black and Brown neighbors in Chapel Hill, NC.

I was reminded of how political distance often lies. Allam belonged next to me as we grieved the deaths of the 38 people with names on white sheets of paper. My desire to frame others as adversary was met with a common pain that transcends labels we create to protect distance. I found five other names to add to the blues of Tia Carraway’s memory. I remembered standing with her family as we identified a body battered by bullets and rigamortis.

Thirty-eight names on white pieces of paper.

The comments reverberated like an echo – the same message kept coming back. All of us need to work against this common enemy. This is our problem. It could happen to anyone. It could happen to you. The same message kept coming back. The long line of names on the quilt forced an even more painful memory. It’s not the first time I’ve heard this eulogy.

The blue sky and gentle wind conceived the backdrop for confusion. Beautiful days aren’t made for memories like this. I thought of gloomy skies and torrid winds. I thought of the bitterness of death stirring uncontrollable moans of Black mamas in a church packed with a troubled community. I imagined the sound of a Black gospel choir singing “Precious Lord, take my hand.”

I saw blue skies, felt a gentle wind, and heard the mingling of white and Black voices troubled by incessant death. I felt the lure of distancing preventing the breakthrough of new possibilities. My imagination captured the explosive bang of bullets. My prayers sought the refuge of a community unwilling to surrender to making this a normal memory.

Thirty-eight names on white paper.

Thirty-eight people killed in 2020. They have mothers and fathers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Some have children too young to remember the day their parent died.

It is easy to miss the story when pain owns the moment. The story isn’t a political agenda. It’s not the race of the victims, or the vicious cycle leading to their deaths.

It’s the making of a holy moment, with names on white paper escorted to an altar underneath the blue sky with a gentle wind. Its collective tears mingled like incense in a bowl lit in the presence of our sacred truths. Its naming a certainty deeper than death – our hope and faith in a world not known for this type of misery.

Thirty-eight names on white paper.

My prayer, no more paper.

 

 

Thursday, October 21, 2021

How to destroy a Black politician: The LeVon Barnes decision

 Rev-elution is funded by the contributions of readers. This site is in process of massive reconstruction with a greater emphasis on Black culture and Black business. To support Rev-elution, for now, go to: Cash App, $CMizzou, or Venmo, @Carl-kenney-1


“carl, if you are in town this week, I would love to have a sit down with you and learn about the history of Durham politics,” the request was sent on September 5, 2017, by LeVon Barnes at 9:34 a.m. It was the beginning of an ongoing conversation involving politics in Durham.

We met the following day at Coco Cinnamon. It was a pleasant day. He found me outside as I was sipping a glass of yerba mate. We discussed Dr. Wyatt Tee Walker, the Black Baptist pastor who marched with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Barnes called Walker his mentor, a point that made it easier for me to understand his passion for politics. My previous conversations with Dr. Walker were a journey into a period of American history when Black men and women did more than stand on the sideline while others fought for their rights.

Dr. Walker was dying. The sadness in the air connected the two of us beyond the galling drama of Durham politics.

The details matter when you’re discussing the political death of a Black man.

Barnes placed his name in the hat as a candidate for the Ward 2 city council seat. Two other Black men, Mark-Anthony Middleton and John Rooks, were also running. Rooks received the endorsement of People’s Alliance’s (PA) Political Action Committee. Rooks was under attack for comments on his questionnaire perceived as homophobic.

Rooks responded with a rebuttal that blamed a staff volunteer for filling out the questionnaire. Barnes attributed the rebuttal as the work of Tom Miller, a PA board member.

PA’s General Body reversed the PAC’s recommendation after Charlie Reece made an impassioned appeal for the group to endorse Mark-Anthony Middleton. It was a contentious meeting with supporters from McDougald Terrance vying for Rooks with members of Congregations, Associations and Neighborhoods (CAN) supporting Middleton. Barnes was left on the outside in a battle between two other Black men lobbying for the support of the powerful, mostly white PAC.

“Off the bat, you need to have a huge, volunteer base. Organizations matter. The best candidate sometimes doesn’t win,” Barnes stated in a message sent to me on October 11, 2017. “Are we really progressive, or do we just talk progressive. A lot of the voting base is not informed, it doesn’t matter what you say, as long as the People Alliance backs you.

It was a precursor of things to come. Barnes ran without the support of the Durham Committee on the Affairs of Black People (DCABP). He met with Omar Beasley, who served as the chair at the time, and Keith Bishop, a member of DCABP’s executive committee. They advised Barnes not to run. They felt more time was needed to build relationships.

I gave the same advice. Barnes was sprinting in a race that required the endurance of a long-distance runner. He was determined not to give up.

“Meaning I would love to be someone who is remembered for being a culture changer here,” he wrote on October 24, 2017. “Whose leadership transcends all people, because it was pure, and it was about people. I guess like a Wyatt Tee Walker or Dr. King.”

The Decision

Fast forward to “The Decision”.

That’s the title Barnes gave to episode #26 on his "Unapologetic Podcast". “The Decision” was to endorse Charlie Reece, Jillian Johnson and Javiera Cabellero for city council rather than Joshua Gunn, his fraternity brother. The trio branded themselves as Bull City Together and hoped their experience as incumbents on the city council would be enough to defeat Gunn, a popular Durham native.

Barnes filed as a candidate in a crowded field for the Durham Board of County Commissioners. The word circulating was Barnes endorsed the Bull City Together slate in exchange for their promised endorsement.

“Man, it’s getting harder to defend you,” I stated in a message sent to Barnes on December 30, 2019. “Tell me it all isn’t true. A fundraiser for you being planned by Charlie, Jillian, and Javier. The promise of a PA endorsement.”

“Anything to take me out. I’m sorry, but my level of disgust is real. Somebody is going to believe it,” Barnes responded. “Plus, you know when something like that is said it runs deeper than just an election.”

On Thursday, October 21, Barnes bared his soul on his podcast. He took every question and criticism I launched to get at the truth. We talked about his tarnished reputation. We discussed his being called a sellout by some people in the Black community. He also shared the burden of it all – the loss of a girlfriend and contemplating suicide.

The exchange was part confessional coupled with the offering of redemption. A big mistake was made. Barnes talked about the mistakes.

He agreed to work on Reece’s campaign due to their relationship. Barnes, a physical education teacher and basketball coach, received funding from Reece and his wife for Young Male Achievers, his nonprofit organization.

Barnes was serving as Co-Chair of the DCABP Education Committee with Dr. Ronda Taylor Bullock when he agreed to work with Reece. He failed to divulge his involvement with members of the DCABP. Working on a political campaign was a violation of the organization’s bylaws.

Barnes says he felt justified after the DCABP endorsed Reece for city council. The moment of his critical decision came when he was told Reece would campaign with Cabellero and Johnson. He continued to work on the campaign after learning of Gunn’s candidacy.

He told members of the Bull City Together team he wouldn’t engage in supporting negative statements made about his fraternity brother. The promise was challenged after a heated exchange at the August 21, 2019, PA endorsement meeting. Rodrigo Dorfman was concerned that an endorsement of Gunn would leave Cabellero without the support she needed to continue as the first Latina to serve on the council.

Barnes says he heard the exchange between Dorfman and Nia Wilson, co-director of SpiritHouse, and Michelle Cotton Laws, who challenged David Price for U.S. Congress. During a meeting a few days later called to address concerns related to the exchange, Barnes says he fought for some form of censure due to the attack on two Black women.

He continued to serve on the Bull City Together campaign. There was an opportunity to bow out. He was being compensated for his work. He honored his promise to Reece.

What followed was a rapid regression that placed him on the outside of Durham’s Black politically engaged community. He made a decision that hampered his relationships with members of Alpha Phi Alpha, the fraternity he shares with Gunn and a pack of local Black pastors. His role with the DCABP was over.

He lost his bid to join the Durham Board of County Commissioners. He fought for Reece, his friend who convinced him to work on his campaign. Reece didn’t fight on behalf of Barnes when he needed endorsements. Cabellero and Johnson left him to contend on his own.

The price he paid was isolation and rejection.

Barnes says he doesn’t feel used. It sounds like he was played like keys on a piano. The music is a broken record of another Black man sacrificed for promoting the wishes of others not willing to repay the favor.

Is it worth it?

Barnes played a game like the one played by Pierce Freelon. The puzzle involving how Freelon won a seat on the city council has pieces that fit a narrative of gains made after walking away from the Black community. Freelon may point to policies aimed at abolishing the police. Black leaders point to crafty maneuvering after failing to endorse Farad Ali for Mayor and Gunn, another homegrown Black man who, like Freelon, is a hip-hop recording artist.

Barnes says he considered suicide after his friends walked away – his girlfriend, members of the DCABP, and the Bull City Together team. He took a bullet for their political cause. When he suffered from the wound, they weren’t there to offer CPR.

I saw Barnes walking, alone, at the Black Farmers Market on a sunny Sunday afternoon. It was months after he lost the election and word of his perceived treason flooded conversations in the Black community. He was wearing an Alpha Phi Alpha jacket – alone. In that moment, I thought of Gunn, who, at the time, was a partner of Provident1898, the co-working space in the North Carolina Mutual building. The farmer’s market was held in the NC Mutual parking lot. It was hard not to make the connection.

There was a sadness on his face. It was the look of dejection that comes with attempts to overcome a bad decision. I thought of stopping. I didn’t. Maybe, it was too soon. Maybe, it was too late.

What’s next?

I believe in redemption stories. Barnes isn’t 40, yet. There’s time to overcome the misfortune of a bad decision. I’m reminded we all make mistakes. It’s much harder when mistakes are made in public view. There was a moment in the podcast. It was a constant thread of moments, like a great chain of consciousness beckoning a pain deeper than things imagined finding peace. I felt the call of ancestors commissioning the burning of white sage and a bawl of deep unto deep.

I felt the presence of Dr. Wyatt Tee Walker, like a descending angel, reminding me of a greater calling. The work of wounded spirits and souls harmed by bad decisions caught me in the middle of Barnes’ confession. I’m reminded that my work with Black men and women rebuffs the urge to throw the gifts of life away. There was merit in Barnes’ confession beyond the work of a political office. I heard every word as a symbol of grace. Each word. Like moans in search of redemption.

The lesson

It pains me that Barnes was treated like disposable goods. His yearning to make a difference was used to manipulate him into serving members of the Bull City Together team. There complicity may not be intentional, but the outcome is irrevocable – like the last rights before the last breath.

These are lessons on how to destroy a Black politician. You cover him with promises. You surround him with perceived validation. You seduce him with promises of a better way on the other side of political visions. You suck the life from those dreams after a perpetual season of disappointment - no endorsements to match the passion.

It looks like gold on the other side of those hills. It’s fools’ gold. Don’t go there, because it gets lonely after the promise fades into the truth of being manipulated into carrying the heavy load of their tainted victory.

I welcomed Barnes back home.

Join me in the reunion.

 

 

Wednesday, October 20, 2021

COMMENTARY: What being a progressive means to Black people

 Rev-elution is funded by the contributions of readers. This site is in process of massive reconstruction with a greater emphasis on Black culture and Black business. To support Rev-elution, for now, go to: Cash App, $CMizzou, or Venmo, @Carl-kenney-1

 

What does it mean when a political candidate touts being progressive?

Is it a statement donating a certain type of white wokeness? There are varied levels to being woke, a point made by the rapid succession of Karens pointing fingers while screaming at Black men and women while advocating to end global warming.

In Durham, NC, being woke is a prerequisite if you want to succeed at anything beyond purchasing a home in a newly gentrified neighborhood.

Woke and progressive go hand in hand like Bonnie needs Clyde and peanut butter isn’t the same without jelly. All the above fit. Saying you’re progressive in Durham is a redundant statement that only brings attention to the bean counters who use labels to discredit the competition.

I have a secret. Black people only claim being progressive if they’re attempting to convince certain white people they’re different, wait for it, than “those” Black people.

Gasp.

Be mindful of any Black politician who uses being progressive as a point of separation. It’s not being used to appeal to Black voters. It’s used to affirm solidarity with a certain brand of white wokeness.

This is a truth with historical footing. Naming and controlling the agenda of Black people has been on the table since Black people migrated North in search of new opportunities. They absconded the witness of lynch mobs for the promise of places like Harlem, where being Black meant walking with your head held high and not moving to the other side of the street when white folks approach.

They were met with a mixed bag of clarifications related to what it means to embrace a new version of Black identity. There was the respectability politics of W.E.B. Du Bois imparted on the editorial page of The Crisis, the magazine of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). There was the socialism and union organizing of A. Philip Randolph, pitched on the pages of The Messenger. Randolph was part of “The New Crowd Negro” movement that challenged Du Bois and Booker T. Washington’s embrace of capitalism. Finally, they met Marcus Garvey and the Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA).

While Garvey built an army of supporters prepared to return to Africa, Washington and Randolph helped the government force Garvey’s deportation. In other words, same song, different dance. Black people, historically, have endured suppression from both Black and white people.

Well intentioned white people have intruded into Black folks’ business since the 1840’s when white abolitionist focused on slavery, while Black people coupled anti-slavery activities with demands for racial equality and justice. Being progressive white woke meant something entirely different when viewed from the lens of people walking and talking while being Black all day, every day, for the rest of their lives.

Progressive white wokeness has historically come with high levels of paternalism. They mean well, but the agendas of Black people are often compromised to soothe goals of objectives rooted in an analysis of what “those” poor Black people need. For Du Bois, his agenda was outlined by a philosophy defining success by the ability to attune to white normality. For Randolph, at times, it meant making race secondary to union involvement. For Garvey, it meant making the Black agenda more important than anything white people had to say.

One more time. None of this is new. That part about varied opinions regarding policies impacting the Black community. That other part about white people attempting to define and control what should matter with Black people. If that’s true, progressive is a way of redefining the terms of Black resistance.

The Black people I know have other ways to describe left leaning activism. They talk about forming a Black agenda, Black economic development, Black pride, and Black nationalism. They discuss the vision and purpose of the ancestors, Black culture, and solidarity. Progressive doesn’t fit when the focus is on strengthening a community of kinfolk who hang out on the corner and play spades at family gatherings.

Maybe that’s why I cringe when I hear a Black person press their interpretation of a progressive agenda. It’s hard not thinking it’s a statement meant for the white people who are listening. Another reminder that words matter when they’re often used to define and manipulate work among Black people.

I don’t talk about being a progressive. I’m a Black nationalist with a desire to hear and learn from my brothers and sisters of the African diaspora.

Yeah, that sounds different.