Why are black women supporting Bill Cosby?

Can we talk? I mean, can we really, really talk?

I’m upset with the comments of some black women popping up in my Facebook news feed.  I’m not sure how to take it all.  I mean, I’m a man.  I don’t know what it feels like to carry all that comes with being mistreated as a woman.  I don’t claim to be an expert, but I do my best to understand.

So, help me understand why so many black women are defending Bill Cosby?  Why are they attacking the 13 women who accuse Cosby of drugging and raping them over the years?  Why are they challenging the credibility of those accusations because it happened so long ago?

Help a brother understand.

I recognize why the image of Dr. Huxtable remains fixated in the imagination of those who grew up with Claire, Cliff and those adorable children.  Could it be that Cosby’s television persona kindles memories that help us feel warm and fuzzy when we watch those reruns? Are black women afraid of losing their model of marriage, parenting and career success?

I get all of that, but help me understand why women are throwing other women under the bus.  This troubles me for numerous reasons.  Top on my list of confusion regards the number of women I have dated who have experienced sexual assault. 

Get this.  I can’t think of one woman who hasn’t. Not one.  I’ll confess I’ve dated more than enough to draw an adequate conclusion. Many of those women have experienced multiple rapes.  Some have been drugged, beaten and raped. One escaped in the middle of the day while running with no clothes to cover her body.  Many were raped by family members.  It’s a long, pathetic list that exposes the ghastly ways of men.

All of them are black.  They represent the vast experiences of black women.  Some are highly educated. Others are high school graduates with amazing careers. In other words, it doesn’t matter how much money they earn or where they received training.  Black women, from all walks of life, catch Hell from men. And, it’s not just black men who use the bodies of black women for play.

Given the common experiences of black women, help me understand how a woman can’t understand why a woman refuses to speak up after being raped.  The women I know didn’t speak up.  They kept it to themselves for a variety of reasons.  Some feared retaliation.  Others felt no one would believe them.  A bunch of them merely wanted the nightmare to go away.

They didn’t want their names dragged in public space.  They didn’t want their friends to know.  They dreaded being labeled.  You know, it’s because of the way you dress.  You carried yourself like you wanted it.  You’re not innocent – you’re a whore who asked for it.

Why wouldn’t they believe all of that?  Isn’t that the common encounter of those who yell their truth?  Help me women! Isn’t that what happens? Isn’t that what happened to you? Isn’t that the reason you kept it to yourself?

I’ll say it again, I’m not an expert on how it feels to be a woman, but I am when it comes to doing my best to carry the burden of a woman I love.  Loving a woman means listening and embracing everything she has experienced.

What does that look like?

It means standing for any woman who screams rape.  It means fighting on behalf of all victims of sexual assault.  It means not calling her a liar when she says he drugged and raped her, and she was afraid to speak.

Yes, I’m aware of all the liars who make it hard to stand.  Yes, I’m still pissed at Wanetta Gibson for fabricating a story that landed Brian Banks in prison (see Rev-elution: Brian Banks not only victim of Wanetta Gibson lie, June 2013). I accept the hostility people feel towards Crystal Magum for accusing members of the Duke Lacrosse team of sexual assault.  That stuff is real, but none of that has any bearing regarding a case involving the claims of 13 women.

Help me understand black women.  Is it because most of the women are white?  Is it because you refuse to believe your television dad would do such a thing?  Is your refusal to accept the possibility of guilt rooted in a need to claim racial solidarity?

I’m not refuting your right to cling to support, but help me, please help me understand.

If anyone understands being screwed, it should be you.  So help a brother out.

Listening still.

 

 

 

 

Bil Cosby, Charles Chestnutt, and that silly little thing called race

This race thing goes much deeper than some may think. The unrelenting pursuit of the American Dream has created a tension between the races that forces a new discussion related to the impact of class when juxtaposed against the historical battles related to race. Over the past few days, I have watched Bill Cosby and Alvin Poussaint pitch their new book “Come on People: On the Path from Victims to Victors”.

I’ve seen them on the Oprah Winfrey Show. That same night, they were interviewed by Larry King. This morning they pooped up on Good Morning America. I laughed as I noticed Cosby wore the same suit and refused to take off those dark shades. When Oprah asked him why he was wearing the shades, he said his eyes were red. Back in the day we wore shades to be cool or to hide eyes bloodshot from smoking those funny cigarettes.

Cosby and Poussaint are on a crusade to bring to the world’s attention the plight of black America. They denounced all those men who refuse to take care of their children. They blasted black people for out of control black on black crime and the mounting of poverty and despair. While acknowledging the bearing of systemic racism, they are imploring black people to take responsibility for their lives and to rise above the posture of victimization.

This dare brings to the forefront the significance class plays in the way we interpret matters related to race. After years of struggling to undo the burden of slavery, reconstruction, Jim Crow and Ronald Reagan, black America continues to wrestle with the biggest enemy of them all-the perceptions they have about themselves.

A case in point is the insane decision made by Yasmine Toney, a promoter in Detroit. Toney opened a deep wound by promoting a party that allowed all-night free admission to black women with fair or light skin. The party was canceled after numerous complaints, but the damage has been done. Within the black community there is a cast system based on the tone of a person’s skin, the grade of their hair and the color of their eyes. In other words, the closer one cones to looking white, the easier it is for them to gain acceptance.

You would think we have grown past the power of the Willie Lynch strategy. For those who do not know, Lynch wrote a document during the early years of slavery that instructed slave owners on how to keep their property in their rightful place. It was as simple as creating tensions among them by bring to the forefront their differences. Get it, light skinned coloreds over here. Go to the big house. Dark skinned coloreds over there. Go to the fields and pick that cotton.

Color distinction became a major issue at the end of Reconstruction and the turn of the century. Many blacks discovered the power of color and engaged in a common practice-passing. They were able to enter into the world of white America by simply using the evil caused by slavery to their advantage. The raping of women created a mixing of the races and many carried features that allowed them to function as white and to receive the benefits afforded by that privilege.

Passing resulted in damage within the race. Years later, we continue to endure the consequence of this historical practice. The end result is a deep-seeded self hatred that leads many crippled by the inferiority complex caused by the color of their skin.

History helps in undoing so much of what stymies us. I get frustrated with hearing all of that rhetoric with few solutions. Uncle Bill and Poussaint are raising important questions. The problem is in the way they throw stones with little help in undoing the damage created by more than 300 years of psychological damage.

In comes Dante James. James, an Emmy Award winning director and producer for the “Slavery and the Making of America”, has brought the work of Charles Chestnut to film. The work of Chestnutt is critical because of his keen sense in how passing hindered the progress of black people. Chesnutt was of mixed race but could pass with relative ease for a white man. During that time in America he was considered "legally" black. Issues of miscegenation, "passing", and racial identity would influence his writing throughout his career.

Dante has taken Chestnutt’s short story “The Doll” and adapted it in way that stirs a critical conversation involving revenge, integrity, and love for family and overcoming a history of oppression. It’s the story of a man faced with an opportunity to impose vengeance for the death of his father. There is a price for taking matters into ones own hands-those who remain after to repay the debt must suffer. The doll of a daughter is a reminder of those depending on you to do the right thing.

The people carry loads of insecurities tied to the color of their skin. People like Cosby stand on their soap boxes beating at the already weary spirits of those locked in despair. While Cosby preaches his gospel of responsibility, black men and women hold to age old stereotypes about themselves.

Chestnutt can help lead the way. Thanks to Dante James, we have found a place to start. Let’s pray that Dante remakes “A Marrow of Tradition.”