Cortez Sings the Blues

“Carl, I didn’t get the job,” Cortez, my girlfriend’s son, moaned the disappointment of his rejection. “I just got the letter in the mail.

Cortez faithfully went through the process of applying for the City of Durham’s summer youth jobs program. He filled out the application, dressed up to turn in the application, contacted his school’s guidance office to obtain a copy of his transcript-he did everything he needed to do only to be denied summer work.

His 15-year-old spirit was crushed by the rejection. Beneath the hard external he attempts to construct to replicate the persona of hip-hop icons, is a sensitive teenager doing his best to find his way. Beyond his fondness of Lil Wayne is a young man determined to make his mother proud by completing his high school education with grades that will pave the way for an academic scholarship.

Cortez is like scores of other young men in Durham, NC. He’s looking for that break- just some way to endorse his assessment that his dreams can be fulfilled. Some proof that what he feels is real has been witnessed by others. The letter in his hand gave him reason to believe his stab at proving the worth of his gifts was futile. Why try when they will deny me a chance? I could hear it in his voice.

“Cortez, let me get back with you,” I said holding back the rage brewing within. I called one of my friends on the city council to get a feel for what went wrong.

“Cora, this is Carl Kenney,” I began. “I need your help in understanding what went wrong.” I called Cora Cole McFadden because she always tells the truth. I called her because of her love for youth and her passion to make a difference. I called Cora because I knew she shared my concern for the youth of the city.

“Carl, we didn’t have enough jobs,” she informed me. “The businesses didn’t come through. “ I listened as she scolded local businesses for reaping the benefits of city services yet failing to support this worthy cause. The challenge to locate jobs to match each applicant was an arduous enterprise. The state of the economy forced many companies to cut back, and it’s difficult to justify hiring youth while failing to employ a parent.

It’s certain that the demands facing small businesses are overwhelming. Many grapple with keeping the doors open long enough to give the stimulus plan time to kick in. Many wonder if the plan will be enough. Employing one more person-just one more- may be the thing to forces them out of business.

I ended the conversation with Cora and ruminated on the consequences of not having enough to take care of our youth. Each major decision made-be it on the state or local level-seemingly has major implications on the delivery of services for youth. Be it the reductions of programs in our schools, cutbacks in funding to nonprofits who provide support for youth, or summer jobs for youth-young people are getting the bad end of the bargain.

It all comes at the worst possible time. Our youth are engaged in a battle comparable to the epic clashes between the forces of good and evil. They have been forced into a battle to preserve the credibility of their very existence. Their challenge is to transcend the judgments of older generations. This war is reflected best in the sullenness of African American boys who stand between years of promise and a culture of subjugation.

Needed is proof that hard work and abiding by all the rules will produce the rewards promised. What difference does it make when a letter appears to give credence to the claim that you can’t make it in a world that holds you in contempt? None of that may be true, but in the mind of person doing their best to find a way it all seems like a waste of time.

How could I tell Cortex the community let him down? How could I challenge him to keep pressing forward in faith when he played by all the rules and believed he would get a job because of the promise offered? “Why would they have me go through all of that if they didn’t have a job for me,” he asked. “They wasted my time.”

So true Cortex. So true. Once again we let our youth down. And we wonder why we have so many problems with helping them find their way.

Remembering the King

The death of Michael Jackson stirred a variety of emotions. I will never forget that night. I sat at the West End Wine Bar sipping a glass of wine. My close friend Monica Daye and I were celebrating the King’s life. “Do you have any of his music,” Monica asked the bartender. “We need to celebrate.” It was hard to hold back the tears.

“What’s going on,” a customer asked. We informed her MJ was dead. “Noooo.”

I bond was created that night. “Your name is Wenny Wiggley,” I joked. You have to change your name when you get married.” Her fiancé shook his head no. His last name is Magill. It seemed to fit better than Wiggley.

It was a fitting way to remember the King. That night he brought us together. An African American male, an African American female, a white female and a white male. We told stories about back in the day when Michael glided across the stage. We talked like he was our best friend. “Damn, I’m gonna miss him,” I thought doing my best not to cry.

Less than an hour later, Monica and I danced to “Thriller” in a parking lot near Brightleaf Square. We danced and laughed while waiting for her boyfriend to join the celebration. We remembered the moves from that amazing video. The lyrics came easy. Again, I fought back the tears.

The emotions overwhelmed me. A few days later I marveled as people in the teens, twenties, thirties, forties, fifties, sixties and seventies danced to his music. I watched as young and older sang and danced. Everyone knew all the lyrics. It was a wedding like none I have ever seen. The bride, Nicole Owens, and the Groom Kahlil Thompson, joined the crowd during the tribute. Everyone sang. Again, I fought the tears. What is it about Michael Jackson that appeals to so many people?

Maybe it’s the way he broke through the barriers that stood prior to the launching of his career. I remember a time when black music remained on the other side of the tracks. It wasn’t played on the top 40 formatted stations. Jackson forced MTV to place his videos in heavy rotation. He refused to acknowledge categories of division. In his life, and in his music, he rejected the notion of classification. He was more than R&B, Rock or Pop music.

More than that, he rejected constructs that measured racial identification. He was more than a black man-he was a man with a social consciousness articulated in his music. “We are the world”, “Man in the Mirror”, “Too Soon” and other songs challenged the world to consider love and peace. The world is mourning his death because of the void created once his music vanished from heavy rotation. We’re left with Drake’s song about a woman being the best sex he ever had, or Lil Wayne’s new song featuring Young Money. Check out the lyrics:

Uh I like a long haired thick red bone Open up her legs then filet Mignon that pussy Ima get in and on that pussy If she let me in Ima own that pussy Gon' throw it back and bust it open like you posed' to Girl I got that dope dick Now come here let me dope you You gon' be a dope fiend Your friends should call you dopey Tell em' keep my name out they mouth cuz they don't know me Huh But you can call me tune chick I'll fuck the whole group Baby I'm a groupie My sex game is stupid My head is the dumbest I promise I should be hooked on phonics haha But anyway I think you're bionic And I don't think you're beautiful I think you're beyond it And I just wanna get behind it and watch you (back it up and dump it back- back it up and dump it back) [CHORUS:] Cause' we like her And we like her too And we like her And we like her too And we like her And we like her too And we like her And she like us too I wish I could fuck every girl in the world I wish I could fuck every girl in the world I wish I could fuck every girl in the world

Some call it club music. Others claim lyrics like these aren’t problematic. Some even claim they’re suitable for youth to listen. With all of that being said, the world was a much better place when we had Michael Jackson instead of Lil Wayne and the other promoters of social degradation. Many claim music has always been laced with lyrics about sexual pleasure. That is true. I remember Marvin Gaye’s anthem about the force of sexual healing. Sex has always been there, but there is a serious difference.

There are no boundaries. Women are presented as objects to fulfill a man’s urge for gratification. She is a toy to be used by a man with no sense of commitment. Once done with her, his boys can use her. In the meantime, it is made clear that the goal is to have as many as he can. His wish is to fuck every girl in the world. How pathetic.

Michael will be missed.

McNair: Midlife in Crisis

“Nothing is ever guaranteed in life,” Mechelle McNair told USA TODAY in 2003. “If I have to go out and work and put my skills to work, I can. There’s no guarantee that Steve and I are going to be together forever.”

Those words came to pass over the weekend when Steve McNair was murdered on Independence Day in his Nashville condominium. The body of 20-year-old Sahel Kazemi – a waitress whom McNair, a married father of four, was having an affair – was found dead next to his.

It marked the end of the celebrated life of the former NFL Co-MVP. Born on Valentine’s Day 1973, McNair’s death exposed his life off the field. He leaves behind Mechelle, his wife, and four children who will be haunted for life by the circumstances surrounding his death. They are left behind to ponder what others are asking-what was on his mind? How is it that he got caught up in a relationship with someone so young?

I’m no prude when it comes to matters of the heart. Those who have taken a few strolls around the block understand firsthand how easy it is to get tangled in a relationship that challenges logics. The list of reasons not to go there far outweigh the sensation that comes with having that person there to bring comfort. It could be that she or he makes you feel young again. Maybe he or she brings out something lost long ago.

In those moments of yearning it is easy to forget what is waiting back home. Those vows made before God and witnesses seem disposable when held against the gratification produced by the bond of the other person. It’s easy to forget the significance of reputation, the fulfillment of parenthood and the bliss that comes with getting old together. It is so easy to become mesmerized by the carnal draw of someone new.

Mine is not a critique of McNair’s actions as much as sadness for the anguish facing his wife and children. The life of a husband and father is bare for the world to critique. The front pages and TV gossip accounts are fuel for kin tears. The voices on the airwaves will remind them of the burden they must carry. He died like this. He decided to live for this. Why did he do this….?

The man born on Valentine’s Day leaves us pondering issues related to love. Few can judge the rise of urges to leave when the flame begins to die. How it happens is easy to understand. That it happened with McNair, and that it has happened in the lives of people we know and love, prompts dialogue on the nature of love and commitment; marriage and parenthood and the emotions stirred when the cheers of the crowd fade away and one is left to unravel what it means to have meaning when the game played has come to an end.

It’s hard to talk about the feeling of emasculation driven by years of affirmation. Years of exhilaration after each touchdown are exchanged for a life of tediousness existence. Some call this a midlife crisis. Those who endure it grapple with finding meaning after discovering the implications of change. Families suffer due to the grip of midlife. It is sad to hear children narrate the horror of adjusting to life after a parent discovers life isn’t working anymore.

Adult survivors are inundated with questions that can’t be resolved. The delicate battle to understand is convoluted enough when left within the circle of a family discussion. It becomes even harder to grasp and forgive when held within the context of a national discussion. This is the stuff that should be left for wife and children to process far removed from the media and public. Children should be left alone to remember the good while pondering the bad. This is a family matter that exposes the cruelty of change.

For the countless men and women who have walked down this path, thank God for the grace to find peace after things fall apart. Thank God for a few more days to apologize and grow beyond each mistake. McNair was denied that gift.

Blacklash

I hate using the proverbial race card to articulate a deep aggravation related to any given subject. My role, as a social commentator, is to engage others into a conversation that begins outside the box. Many of my African American readers have branded me as being too white for their taste. On the other side of the tracks, many white readers have disregarded my thoughts for being too radically black.

This comes with the territory. It’s one of the consequences of living with black skin. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one holding to the contention that I’m limited due to the realities of our nation’s historical bearing. I’m proud to be an American, and have witnessed many pull themselves up by their dang bootstraps. I’m all for celebrating hard work and holding people accountable. I’m fed up with the language of victimization and the exploitation of past racial division as fuel for a present-day discussion on the state of American affairs.

The requisite for lifting that proviso as part of this dialogue speaks to the enormous dilemma one faces when addressing the matter of race. For many, the argument is invalidated based on the race of the person delivering the message. For some, this means it’s too radically black. For others, it’s simply not black enough. The discussion of race is often relegated to a critique of the person bringing the message, rather than an examination of the merits of the claims made.

This is evident in responses to many of my columns and blog postings. The analysis is more a repudiation of the reliability of the messenger than an examination of the opinions expressed. One of the challenges facing those who give voice in public space is the need to demonstrate to critics ones right to speak. Fundamental to this assault is the notion that black folks don’t know as much as those holding the power. This is one of the implications of operating from a position of privilege. Those who have traditionally maintained the power move back and forth between the culture of advantage and the impression of empathy with ease.

With all of that being said, it’s critical that we examine what is happening within the larger American landscape. There is a brewing sentiment that feels like what I call, for a lack of a better label, a “blacklash”. Barack Obama’s rise to the Presidency has white supremacist crying the blues. “Those coloreds done gone too far,” I can hear them saying. “We need to stop em before it’s too late.”

This sentiment is manifest in the rise of hate crimes. Countless are the stories I’ve heard from African Americans across the country about confrontations with people angry that a black man is leading our country. The “blacklash” shows up best among those who have long allowed their thoughts to be heard. What is harder to unwrap is how the “blacklash” shows up among many white, privileged, liberal, Obama supporting, Democratic party card carrying folks across the country.

It shows up when the rules of the game are controlled by those hiding behind the cover of liberalism. Questioned are the credentials of those ALLOWED to sit at the table. Lost in the conversation are the assumptions made about those ALLOWED to share in the process of change. Who gets hired to work? What are the credentials of those who get hired? Who is making that decision, and why are they given that power?

This depressing truth shows its ugly head among organizations that claim to be about inclusiveness and the promotion of justice. Many organizations are established to impact the lives of people of color, but a quick check into those staffed will reveal a sad reality-the people who work there don’t look like the people they are organized to serve. My white critics will argue the white folks hired to work have better credentials. I challenge them to consider the assumptions made by those who make those decisions.

What are some of those assumptions? He or she is too vocal. They can’t be managed. We take a risk because of their involvement in outside ventures. The laundry list of issues that keep people locked out is a mechanism used by those in power to keep those who have the ability to share in that power away from the source of that power. In other words, those who possess the ability to make a difference are denied that place due to the power of those who control who is allowed in and who is kept out.

Again, it is critical that I make it clear that I hate using that race card. More and more it feels like a major “blacklash” coming from those who have been advocates for social justice. More and more the credentials of black people are being questioned. More and more it feels like there is no space for a discussion surrounding how a person’s position of privilege limits the sharing of power. The manipulation of the position of power has not changed. People are conducting business as usual. What has changed is the perception that the old system is justifiable due to the election of Barack Obama. Those who have maintained control are now freed, it seems, to operate void of guilt.

Sadly, those who hold the power are clueless that their actions negate the sharing of power. They operate with good intentions. They function out of a sincere desire to make a difference. Missing is an understanding regarding how their actions hinder the movement toward change. What appears to be an effort to include others is more of a design to control the outcomes by managing who is allowed in and who is kept out.

It feels like a “blacklash” to me.

Mothers Becoming Fathers

I’m left speechless when I hear a woman talk about being both a mother and father for their children. Implied in this avowal is the outlandish assertion, due to no fault of their own, that they were forced to assume both masculine and feminine roles in assuring the growth of their children. Obscured in this affirmation is the unrealistic expectation that women void of male partnership are forced to take on dual functions to effectively raise their children.

This position is laced in the language of patriarchy. It becomes the fuel used by conservative Christians and political moralist to classify the root causes of the evils that hinder society. There are decades of squabbles related to the decline in family values and the rise of societal ills correlated to women raising children alone. Congregations have asked the relevant question-where the men go? This is a more perplexing query when placed in the context of black life in the inner city.

For decades now, people have asked why are there more women in church than men? Why are there more black women in college than men? Why are our prisons flooded with black and brown brothers? What happened to trigger this massive shift in mindset that has black men clinging to obsessions over celebrating the beauty of raising a family? At the end of protracted and grueling deliberations, it is assumed that all ills can be associated, in some manner, to the failures of a man.

Father’s Day becomes more than a day on the calendar to honor dads for contributing to the success of their children. It becomes one among many days to reflect on the failures of the men we should love. Father’s Day becomes a day to reflect on the significance of dad, and it leaves many conscious of how they learned more on how to structure their lives by doing the opposite of good ole dad.

Dads receive alternative names to illustrate the significance of their contributions. They become “sperm donors”, the” baby daddy”, the “deadbeat” or the “big mistake”. Children are left motionless as they vacillate regarding their Father’s Day reaction. Should they buy a card or gift and tell ole dude they love him? Should they rise above the fray and call the ole deadbeat and say “happy Father’s Day”? Should they pretend all is well for the day while mama is infuriated because child support hasn’t been paid and the sperm donor hasn’t called the kids?

It’s enough to drive a hard working mom crazy. She strives to teach those hurting children to love and respect ole boy even after he refuses, for whatever reason, to do the right thing for his children. I grasp the agony of the moms fed up with contending with the travails of parenthood alone. Those men should be called out for walking out on their responsibility. With that said, there is a truth that must rise above the rhetoric.

To begin, will someone help me slay the notion that a child is doomed to fail due to the absence of a man. The truth is, in many cases, children are better off not having the loser around to stir them in the wrong direction. We should be careful not to concede power to the male genitalia. A penis is not the remedy to all the woes we see. Two parents in the home isn’t, in and of itself, the road of promise. In many circumstances, single parents do a better job at raising children without the S.O.B around. Absent is the rage and abuse that can be heard when men and women simply can’t get along.

In addition, somebody help me, please, please help me, undo the notion that single parents have to be both mother and father. This notion presupposes the company of qualities in men void in women. The assumptions of gender based roles are rooted in Biblical interpretation that is rendered from a cultural context that placed women as subservient to men. Men are the strength of the family. They are the heads of households, and women, due to their gender identity, are held to a position of submission.

This leaves women deficient whenever a man is absent to lead the way. She is regarded as incapable of accessing spiritual truth when a man is not present. Her only recourse is to take on a dual status-to be man and woman, father and mother. She has to assert qualities of manhood while, at the same time, lifting the virtues of her gender. She must become both man and woman. This is necessary because men are needed due to the failures of women.

Women are admired for being nurturers, but strength and leadership are qualities we find in men. Any woman who takes on this role has stepped out of divinely sanctioned order. She does so because of the failures of the man she has chosen. The man is chided for creating an environment that breeds immaturity and fragmentation. He forces the woman to be both mother and father, and children are left uncertain about what it means to be human.

It is all grounded in sexist notions based in a moralist interpretation of the Biblical text. This is what happens when we read text crafted in sexist societies as valid guiding principles for today. The dangers in literal interpretations are in the fostering of cultures that limit the humanity of women in relationship with the status of the men that own them.

Lesson from Paulo Freire

"How can the oppressed, as divided unauthentic beings, participate in the pedagogy of their liberation?"

This quote from the first chapter of Paulo Freire book Pedagogy of the Oppressed has been instrumental in the development of my theological mindset. I leaned heavily on Freire while working on my doctorate at the Princeton Theological Seminary. I was grappling to uncover ways to find the unique voice of persons addicted to crack cocaine. I asserted that they, as an oppressed population, perceive God and the community of faith, different than the general population.

Freire asserts an approach that requires a partnership between the oppressed and the oppressor that negates the position of power. Each gains from the other. Freire hoped for the formulation of a system whereby the oppressor no longer forces the oppressed to take on the image of oppression. “Long as they live in the duality in which to be is to to be like, and to be like is to be like the oppressor, this contribution is impossible," Freire states. "Liberation is thus a childbirth, and a painful one."

Discovering that one has existed as an oppressor is a painful place. Even more regrettable is the realization that this knowledge in and of itself does not necessarily lead to solidarity with the oppressed. A radical shift begins when the oppressor recognizes the limits of past assumptions. “The former oppressors do not feel liberated. On the contrary, they genuinely consider themselves to be oppressed,” Freire writes.

Freire attacked the system of education used in Brazil for utilizing what he called the “banking” concept of education, in which students were viewed as empty accounts to be filled by teachers. He strongly criticized the transmission of mere facts as the goal of education. He called for an adjustment in the teacher-student dichotomy that has teachers learning from those they teach.
Freire’s conception that learning, at its best, is interplay between teacher and student helped me rethink many of my theological presuppositions. I had to concede that many of my affirmation were rooted in cultural perspective rather than a divinely inspired authorization. I was guilty, along with the community I represented, of assuming the authoritative voice guiding my ways should be implored in all cases and with all people. My power was used to manipulate and control others, and, in the process of holding my truth as the only truth, I limited my ability to learn from those with truth to share.

This is difficult to concede when the Bible is regarded as the inspired words of God. Many of the battles we face in public space are rooted in how the Bible is interpreted. When used as the voice of God for all people, in every situation, and for all times; the Bible becomes an instrument of oppression rather than a remedy to overcoming a history of power and manipulation.

My column writing has exposed the venom of those who hold fast to their theological constructs. They remain stuck in the power play that wars with those on the other side of Biblical and theological interpretation. What shows up on the other side of their reflection is a celebration of some communal vision that pits those who look and believe like them versus those in need of transformation. The voice of the others can’t be heard due to the weapon held in their hand-the Bible. Texts are picked out of the Good Book to validate their contentions, leaving those on the outside of their interpretation void of the power to overcome the conclusions of those in power.

Freire’s critique of education is reflected in the work of Latin American Liberation theologians like Leonardo Boff, Gustavo Gutierrez and Walter Altman. The work inspired James Cone to develop Black Liberation Theology, and has spread to Europe through the work of Jungen Moltman and others. It is reflected in works in men and women around the world. Feminist Theologians like Rosemary Radford Ruether, Letty Russell, Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza and Womanist Theologians like Jacquelyn Grant and Kattie Canon all begin with the same claim-that the starting point of theological analysis is the community.

These men and women challenge us to consider the pain of the oppressed, and to find God in places not known by those in power. Theirs is a call for dialogue, and this requires a willingness to listen to the voices of those standing on the outside of systems of power. Liberation is an attack on all methodologies that assume truth at the expense of those limited by others who hold the keys in their hands.

What are the implications of Freire’s criticism? It challenges us to rethink the way we teach. It embraces the worth of the student within each teachable moment. It explores the damage done when the oppressed become the image of their oppressors. It forces each of us to concede the failures of our assumptions when placed within a culture with individuals unable to understand or fulfill the demands of our claims.

More than all of that, Freire is a reminder of the strengths of a purely democratic society. He reminds us of John Stuart Mills appeal in On Liberty- that within the marketplace of ideas we must embrace each thought as vital in the formation of a more perfect idea. There is power within each voice. We become stronger when the politics of power are replaced by a spirit of compassion.

Howard Brinton, a Quaker, summarizes it all so well. “Within the meeting equality appears in the equal opportunity for all to take part, regardless of age, sex or ability. It means equality of respect and the resulting absence of all words and behavior based on class, racial or social distinction.”
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The Re-segregation of Public Education

Another school year is coming to an end. As the sunsets on this most recent pursuit to offer quality education to all our children draws near; we leave behind numerous reminders that things aren’t what they used to be before merger, “No Child Left Behind” and the emergence of gangs. With each passing year comes the surfacing of new issues left to be packed on top of the already huge load to overcome.

My recent blogs have considered the quality of education offered at Durham’s Hillside High School. Responses have fluctuated from a firm rebuke of anyone with the guts to attack the school, to passionate pleas for someone to fix the mess before it’s too late. Thrown in the middle of it all was my apology for pondering the matter at all. Some have addressed my apology. One parent reminded me that I had no reason to apologize. That, in that parents opinion, everything I wrote unraveled the sad truth of what is happening at the school.

Lost in this discussion is what matters the most-elevating the standards for all our schools. Hillside High School is in the forefront of this discussion due to the vicious cycle implored to address the malady of problems there-change the dude in charge. My initial blog spoke of the importance of changing the culture of our schools. Mine was a challenge to raise the bar, not a venomous rebuke of those in charge.

It is easy to make assumptions related to what is wrong in our schools. The countless opinions regarding the root of what is wrong leaves us grappling to get from out under the stack of problems that keep us in catch up mode. Eleanor Seaton, a professor at UNC, has conducted research within public schools in Chicago and Philadelphia. During a conversation she pressed me to consider the importance of researchers entering into schools to do what they do best. Until we get a firm grip on what is happening we will continue this once a year rollercoaster ride.

There are a variety of possible reasons for the achievement gap, disciplinary problems in our schools and horrific test scores. Some could blame testing of students. Others may claim it all began when crack cocaine flooded the streets of America. Still others may charge poor leadership on the school board. The rhetoric surrounding the attack does little to address the mounting problems with public education in Durham, NC and across the nation. The more we wait, the more we will witness an escalating trend-the resegregation of our schools.

The longer we wait, the more we will witness the rise of private and charter school enrollment. More parents will seek alternatives to meet the educational needs of their children. We will witness declining faith in the public education system, and, with this movement, our public school population will reflect the students with the greatest need. Disparities will remind us of why integration and merger was needed. Integration was a reaction to two separate and incredibly unequal systems-one for whites and the other for blacks. The merger of the former Durham City and Durham County School districts came after citizens demanded the provision of equal resources for those attending the Durham City School District.

Durham had failed to integrate after the monumental Supreme Court decision. Two systems with drastically disparate revenue streams continued to exist until 1995. The merger of the systems began the end of economics as an excuse for poor academic performance. It was assumed that the gap in achievement was the function of more in the county school district. The aftermath of integration and merger forces us to contemplate something more than throwing dollars to fix academic disparities.

One has to be critical of the poor academic performance at both Hillside and Southern High. Some will argue that things aren’t as bad as they seem, and will attack anyone for drawing attention to the measures of success and failure used by the State of North Carolina. Others will hide behind the failures of the population attending the school, parental involvement, economic trends and peer pressure. Each excuse may be enough to explain why Hillside, Southern and other schools with the same demographics, struggle in meeting academic goals. These may be explanations for why schools can’t get over the hump, but should we allow these excuses to defeat us before we get started?

We have proven that throwing money at the problem will not fix what ails us. It will take much more than that. The problem is we have little credible evidence regarding what it will take to shift the tide. Why? Because we continue to regress while presumptuously contending the same methods will produce different results.

There’s one truth that I refuse to forfeit-we must demand more from our students. We should never consent to mediocrity. We should never defend an institution that, for whatever reason, fails to prepare those enrolled to survive in this evolving world. Shame on us if we are satisfied with having two separate and very unequal systems. Shame on us if we exert energy in promoting and protecting places that fail our youth.

That’s what got us here in the first place. Will someone sing with me “We Shall Overcome, Someday”

Watch Those Assumption

Assumptions should never be made when it comes to evaluating the work of others. In my previous blog I apologized for hurting students. The apology came after meeting with teachers, students, parents and Earl Pappy to hear their concerns. My previous blogs were rendered after time spent with students at the school. The aftermath of my last blog takes me by surprise. Rather than accepting that apology, some of my readers have decided to lash out at my credibility.

I have thick skin. Over the years I have remained silent as my readers confront after reading my commentary. This produces a laundry list of assumptions about my work and my commitment to change. So, to those who have decided to attack me for a lack of participation in making a difference-shame on you for speaking before you checked the facts. In doing so you are guilty of the very thing you claim I’ve done-failed to get all the pertinent information before writing my blogs.

I have given my service to Hillside High. I’ve been at the school virtually every day this year. There are students in the school who know me. I pick them up, take them to eat, help them with their homework, mentor them, serve as their advocate. I have encouraged many of Hillside’s students to work toward pursuing a college degree. I have offered to pay for their application fee.

I submitted paper work to volunteer at Hillside High School. Afterwards, I presented a proposal to work with a group of African American boys within the school in a program I call “I-2-I”. In that program I proposed to use quotes from African American men to educate youth and to serve as a means to promote the development of character. I waited to hear from Hillside. After submitting the proposal and not hearing from the school about that proposal, I was contacted by the Smith Middle School in Chapel Hill, NC. The program was implemented there last year and continued this year.

It saddened me that Hillside didn’t respond. It could be the paperwork was lost in the shuffle. Maybe the failure is mine for not pressing more. Or, it could be Hillside struggled with finding the space and time for the program. I desperately wanted to give my services to Hillside. In passing, I mentioned the concept to Mr. Pappy. I contacted Minnie Forte after not hearing from central office about my application to volunteer. After months of waiting, she made the call and I was contacted the same day.

What is my point? I attempted to give my time to Hillside. I came with a model that was designed to connect young people to the amazing voices of the past. My desire was to teach history, literature and to instill tremendous pride within the young men who would have participated in the activity.

There’s more. I contacted women to do the same with the female students. I reached out to Monica Daye, a local spoken word artist and Hillside High graduate, about offering her service to the school. I spoke with Nakia Jones, a substitute teacher at Hillside, about participating in the program. My excitement dissipated when I received no word from the school.

The call I received from the Smith Middle School shifted my emphasis, but it did not alter my desire to work with the school. I have done that by working with students in the school. My readers made an amazing mistake in evaluating my work. One does not have to be in the school to work on behalf of the school. I’ve given tickets to the school to attend events at the Carolina Theatre. More than that, I have offered my support to the school. I have made it clear that I’m willing to do what I can to support Hillside High.

One should never make an assumption. I made a few that I regret. I failed to consider the feelings of the students at Hillside when I wrote that first blog. They have experienced far too much to endure more than they have. Assumptions can destroy the work before it has a chance to materialize. It’s so easy to stand behind them and attack void of any proof of the claims made. It was wrong for me to not consider the emotions stirred by my words.

For those who make assumptions related to the work that needs to be done at Hillside, and the failures of a minister and journalist who should do more than write about the problem, take a deep breath and listen. Everything you suggest was attempted. Not only that, much of that work has been done. The real issue is not about what hasn’t been done, but the root behind it not being done.

Hillside: I'm Sorry

My father’s example of manhood has taught me to always apologize when you hurt someone. It’s one of those things that is easy to do in private space, but amazingly difficult to do in public view. I pray each day to live my life in such a way that by the end of that day I would have made a difference. I believe each day is a gift from God. We should never take it for granted. We should never wait to say what needs to be said when you know, deep down, that your words have hindered the growth of others.

So, I apologize to the students at Hillside High School. I apologize to the parents of those students. I beg the forgiveness of the teachers at Hillside. My words have hurt you, and for, that I am sorry. My prayer is that we can move past that pain and have a meaningful conversation about how we can work together to make a difference at Hillside.

My apology is generated after hearing from students, parents, teachers and Earl Pappy. I’m thankful for those conversations. They have helped me understand something about Hillside that can’t be uncovered in brief discussions with a few or a quick walk through the halls at the school. There is a pride at Hillside that we all should celebrate. That pride is rooted in a long legacy, but, even more than that, it is based on Hillside quest to prove to outsiders that there is much more to this story than can be told in a few test scores or police reports.

I was deeply moved as I listened to Earl Pappy talk about how hurt he was after hearing about my blogs. Although he didn’t read them, his reaction came after hearing his students talk about how they felt. More than listen to him talk, I took notice of his facial expression. He cares for the students at Hillside. I knew after watching him speak that my mistake was in failing to witness what he has endured for the past three years.

Although there was no malice in my words, I failed to understand something deeper than what I reported. Hillside needs to be left alone to heal. Those on the outside, myself included, have failed to comprehend the pain that comes with being disregarded when you are doing the best you can to achieve your goals. Hillside needs something that state agendas and school board members lack the patience to give-loads of love and support.

Those test scores don’t tell the truth. Guns confiscated on or near school property don’t tell all that needs to be said regarding the merits of this school. Yes, Hillside faces tough challenges due to dynamics that have little to do with the people who have given their best to educate students. The problems at Hillside are related to what comes to the school, not what the school produces once they arrive.

Hillside, and so many other schools like it, is victimized by “No Child Left Behind”. Needed are creative ways to educate students; however, our fascination with measuring success has broadened that evil achievement gap that remains as a dark cloud over many of our schools. I’m shocked that students aren’t being taught to write. I worry that this generation will not be equipped to compete in the fast changing technologically centered world.

My mistake was in blaming Hillside rather than pointing the finger where it belongs-you and me. Where are those white children who live in the Hillside district? How many were granted transfers to other schools within the Durham Public School system? How many are at Jordan High? How many black parents were denied the same? How many parents decided to send their child to a private school rather than deal with all of those black kids over at Hillside?

What happened to the promise of merger? Do any of you remember how things were back in 1995 when the new Hillside was opened? We were sold a line of bull. We were told the newly merged school system would put an end to the disparities in public education caused by disparities in funding. We were also told the racial divide would come to an end. It didn’t happen because of pressure coming from parents to maintain a system similar to the one we had before merger.

I blame Durham residents for not taking merger seriously. We have become content with maintaining disparities and racial divides. We are quick to be critical of some of our schools while refusing to celebrate the power of diversity in education. We merged our schools on paper, yet failed to implement a strategy that put an end to the old mindset that forced merger in the first place.

I’m sorry Earl Pappy. I apologize to the students, parents and teachers at Hillside. I’m sorry for doing the same thing others do to pull you down while you are working so hard to move past all that negativity.

I hope you will accept my apology. If not, I will continue to work to make a difference.

Hillside Students Marching for Truth

“How many students did you interview,” one of the students in Mark Greenstreet’s public speaking class asked. “Where did you find them?” The class flooded me with questions after reading my blog about their beloved Hillside High School. They attacked me for presenting their school in a negative way. I listened as they shared their deep frustration with how Hillside is portrayed in the press and in the community.

“Why don’t you write about the positive things at Hillside,” another student asked. It is a common argument launched at those in the press. People blame the media for reporting the news. Mine is a difficult position. As a journalist, I have an obligation to share the news-not make news. As an advocate for youth, I’m constantly looking for ways to improve the conditions of those who lack the resources needed to achieve their dreams.

Reporting on Hillside was a difficult task. My blog was written with the intent of sharing a culture at Hillside that must be reversed before changing the perception of the school. I hoped to bring to the forefront that Earl Pappy has been set up to fail, and that the next person appointed Hillside’s principal is doomed the day he or she takes reign.

Meeting with the students at Hillside reminded me of all that is right with the school. The truth is Hillside suffers from some of the same dynamics facing others schools within the Durham system. There’s one major difference. Hillside is being sabotaged by outsiders. The alumni and parents of Hillside have been given far too much control. Hillside struggles due to a serious identity crisis. In holding on to the old, it grapples with moving forward in a way that prepares students for life in this new technological age.

I listened as students fought to maintain the integrity of their school. Some of them emailed me, “This is a student at hillside high, I'm an junior, i was here when Mr Earl Pappybegin working at hillside,” a student wrote. “He has been the best principle that i have ever had. Also as much as society has depicted hillside give the students no reason to change our actions. Mr Pappy gives students hope that we all could be something. Mr Pappy has been very successful in helping students get in to collage such as thr graduates of 2007 2008 2009. So please pray for our school and not talking about the next generation also if more adults would fall on there knees instead of opening there mouth and moving on there own wheel and do gods wheel. THING AT HILLSIDE WILL GET BETTER!!! Hillside Students love Mr pappy past his strict rules and his high standard for us and our success!!! THANKS GOD BLESS.” I read and posted it as it was written.

“hello how u doing i am student at hillside high school and i was reading what you wrote about hillside and i just want to say something how can you write about us and you dont walk these halls everyday you cant get your information base of off what one student tell you i am in the 11th grade and i feel like that Mr.Pappy have done a lot for this school and he care about the students and they stafey so until you come and visit the school please dont bad mouth us thank you.” Again, I read and posted the email as it was written.

I looked past the grammatical errors to get a feel for the emotions the students at Hillside carry. They are frustrated at how their school has become the subject of criticism. The consistent theme is their deep admiration for Earl Pappy. They all feel he has made a huge difference. Yes, they understand the school has problems, but, in their minds, things have gotten better-much better.

Many have pointed at the decline in test scores since Pappy arrived at Hillside. What many of the critics of Hillside fail to share is the change in the test. The end or course test administered by the state became more difficult after Pappy arrived. The decline in test scores is a reflection of those changes more than an indictment on the work of Earl Pappy.

The students at Hillside are reading my blog. They are upset due to the perception their school has been portrayed in a negative way out of malice. The truth must be told about Hillside and the other schools in Durham. Hillside is not alone. Hillside has problems with gangs. Northern has problems related to race. What gets reported and how it is shaped is often rendered out of presuppositions based on race. Hillside is suffering due to a long standing battle to overcome its image, and the students are angry that they are measured based on those assumptions.

What will it take to change things? The first step is to take power away from the groups that are sabotaging the school. The alumni should be silenced. They have a level of control not found in any other Durham High School. Next, community groups like the Durham Committee on the Affairs of Black People need to be checked. Their role in managing Hillside has circumvented the function of the principal. In addition, parents should assume a more positive posture in promoting the education of their children. Their role is not to fight against the principal, but to work alongside the principal to advance the goals of the school.

Add to this the need for stability among the staff at Hillside. The high turnover is impacting the school in a negative way. Changes need to take place within the guidance office. Far too many mistakes are made related to the management of classes needed for graduation. Finally, there is a need for a critical examination of the role of security at Hillside. There are far too many incidents of fights started by law enforcement.

The problems at Hillside are not the fault of Earl Pappy. He is the scapegoat forced out to cover deeper issues within the school. The alumni, parents, law enforcement, burn-out with staff and frustrated students all bundled together equal a school in need of change.

So, to all of my friends over at Hillside, I’m not the bad guy. I’m that dude who wants to see things change.

Another One Bites the Dust: Hillside Principal Dismissed

Sources have confirmed that Earl Pappy will not be retained as Principal at Hillside High School in Durham, NC. Is anyone surprised by that news? Pappy getting axed follows a long list of hit and miss assignments hoped to elevate the school beyond its horrific reputation. Pappy is most recent scapegoat to be canned because folks aren’t ready to face the harsh truth.

We’re told the decision is the result of poor test scores and disciplinary problems in the school. Officials confiscated three guns during a recent check. One was on campus and two were discovered in the parking lot of the Town ‘n Country store across the street. An official indicated students were taken by surprise because two checks took place within the same month. Hillside was behind its ordered gun checks, thus two happened back to back.

The student with the gun in the school claimed gang affiliation. I was told by youth in the school that gang fights have been planned for after school in the Town ‘n Country parking lot. The battles within the school have become so common that students take them as part of the Hillside High experience. The brawls in the school take place despite the presence of law enforcement. One student told me little is done to secure the safety of students in the school.

Hillside is no different than many schools across America. Poor academic performance and disciplinary problems are indicative of a shift in the mindset of students in certain schools. There is an advancing culture that needs to be addressed before it spreads out of control. The drive for education is circumvented with an obsession with keeping things real, ghetto or hood. These terms can be interchanged when assessing the attitudes and opinions of some of the students at schools like Hillside.

My interviews with students uncovered a number of startling assumptions. Students lack respect for those who lead them. They talk of teachers having sex with students, teachers getting high with students, teachers making advances on their parents. Listening to students talk left me frustrated and disgusted at how they feel about their school and those given the task of managing their education. The problem goes deeper than uncovering if these rumors are true. In the minds of many of the students it is true. When an impression becomes deeply engrained it becomes truth for those incapable of seeing things any other way.

On last week, there was a drug raid outside the school. Sources indicate police had a lead that one student was dealing drugs on campus. A dog from the K-9 unit was on site to locate drugs. They searched the student’s car. The incident disrupted class. Parents parked outside the school waiting to pick up their children had to contend with the image of police cars, the K-9 Unit and a student standing next to the car being checked for drugs. How is a parent to feel knowing drugs could have been inside the school?

Problems go beyond the impression of ghetto life. Recently, I helped a student at Hillside with a writing project. “It doesn’t matter what I write,” the student said. “All the teacher is gonna do is count the pages. They don’t even read what we write.” I was astonished by what the student said. If true, and I’m not saying that it is, students aren’t being prepared to succeed. Could it be that students are allowed to matriculate when they lack the basic skills needed to move to the next level?

Again, there is a developing culture within our schools that it making it increasingly more difficult to teach. If not careful, some of our schools will become dumping grounds where students go in wait of their release date. Sound familiar? That’s what incarceration looks like. Maybe in the minds of some of these students school is like prison.

In evaluating cultures it is critical to hear from those who are part of the community in question. This is complicated when the outsiders have clear expectations related to those within that culture. The outsiders, in this case, are administrators, teachers, parents and a concerned community. They come with their action plans, measures of success and models for change.
The numbers are examined and it is assumed it must be the fault of the person in charge when goals and objectives aren’t fulfilled. That’s when the game begins. The search unfolds for the next fool who will step into the jungle with a promise to change things. Sorry, it won’t work. It can’t work. Why? Because action plans and measures of success and all the others tools used to advance change have to take into account the culture of the crowd it hopes to impact.

The culture at Hillside has to change, and that, Ladies and Gentlemen, will take more than the next Super Negro to walk in the halls with a nice wardrobe, resume and inspirational message. It takes moving the school beyond being that dumping ground that feeds all that negative energy.
Most think it’s just a school. No, this is the ghetto baby, and this is the way we do it. This is what a school looks like with the culture of the hood takes control.

A Theology of Hell Versus The Gospel of Inclusion

I’m tired of all that talk about Hell. Talk of the old fiery place seems to get in the way of more pressing issues related to faith. Obligations like loving your neighbour and serving the downtrodden take a back seat to scaring people to the alter to give their lives to Jesus. I’m convinced that many Christians sign on the old dotted line to secure Hell Insurances versus a real commitment to the teachings of Christ.

My concerns with the fire and brimstone messages of the Church have led me to follow the work of Carlton Pearson.Pearson was a star among Pentecostal Christians. He was an advisor to President Bush, served as a guest host on the Trinity Broadcast Network, worked as a member of the Oral Roberts University board of trustees, and led a 6,000-member megachurch before his theological shift.

On September 7, 2009, Pearson preached his final sermon at New Dimensions. The church has been folded into All Souls Unitarian Church-the largest church in the Unitarian denomination. Before closing their doors, New Dimensions was billed as the friendliest, trendiest, most radically inclusive worship experience. Pearson tried to prove that hell doesn’t exist.

“I wanted a place where my people could find safe harbour,” Pearson told the Associated Press after closing the doors at New Dimensions. “They’re already outcasts in the evangelical-charismatic community.” They are outcast because they have embraced a “gospel of inclusion” that asserts all people will go to heaven. The rise and fall of Pearson brings to the forefront an intense theological debate that is deeply rooted in the need to delineate those who make it from those who don’t.

The “gospel of inclusion” is more about affirming God’s love and work in securing the salvation of the world, versus a concentration on the limits of those who find themselves ousted due to their works and thoughts. The “gospel of inclusion” seeks to love people to the kingdom rather than to scare them to the cross.

The debate on the validity of Pearson’s claims has far reaching impacts in reaching the outcast of the world. The theology of hell asserts an obligation on the part of the sinner to: (1) confess sin, (2) accept Christ and (3) change their ways as a measure of their faith. Hell becomes the place assigned those unwilling or incapable of abiding by the expectations of the Church.

That’s when things get s tricky and contentious. Hell theology grants the community of believers the right and power to determine who gets in and who is cast to eternal damnation. Faith is subverted by works. The traditional contention is that one is “saved by faith, not works”; however, works, in the theology of Hell, are used to determine faith.

The language of the Church becomes muddled in relating its position on Hell. The role of grace depends on the time in which it is used. Grace applies to those who have no relationship with God and come to Christ-by faith. Upon coming to Christ judgement settles in. It is works, not grace or faith, that assigns ones position in the kingdom.

All of this talk about Hell leaves me frustrated on the work that goes undone due to our obsession over the wrong message. For me, it doesn’t matter if hell exists. I don’t spend much time dealing with the furniture in heaven or the temperature in hell. What concerns me are matters related to life in the here and now. Things like the academic performance of youth. Things life the economic conditions that hinder so many around the globe and the existence of structures that oppress men and women. I worry about those who are left out due to the mean spirits of those who believe they are the holders of truth.

I’ve kept my eyes on the ministry of Carlton Pearson for other reasons. Like me, he stands outside the box. He took a risk. He stood for the validation of those who came seeking spiritual truth. He refused to cast them out, force them to be like others, and to keep them hiding due to the judgments of others.

New Dimensions had to close their doors. Is this the fate of those who refuse to think like other Christians? I Hope not.

Honoring Greatness

There are those special people who touch your life so evocatively that things will never be the same again. The sanctified folks call it an anointing. Others refer to it as a unique quality, a special gift that impacts others in a significant way. I’ve learned to not take the role of those people for granted. I have met three of them: Dr. C. Eric Lincoln, Dr. Samuel Procter and Dr. John Hope Franklin.

I met each of these great men through my studies at Duke University. I decided to move from Missouri to Durham, NC to study due to the contributions of C. Eric Lincoln and John Hope Franklin. I was amazed at their ability to press beyond the obvious.

Lincoln’s book The Black Muslims in America introduced to the world the mind of the Nation of Islam. I wanted to sit at his feet. I came to Duke to take classes with Lincoln. All I needed was one. I loved his humor and bent on life. To this day I laugh whenever I think of the time he told us the story of his temptation to become a minister. He talked about how he practiced preaching in front of a mirror and was certain he could fascinate people with his preaching.

Sam Proctor came to Duke as a visiting professor. By the time he arrived I had graduated. This didn’t prevent occasions for us to meet over lunch to discuss faith and life. I’ll never forget the day he called Alvin Bernstein while we were at the Duke Divinity School book store. “You guys need to pick up The History of God by Karen Armstrong,” he said. We both did. “It will open your eyes...” It did.

Arvil Strickland, my African American History professor at the University of Missouri used Franklin’s book like the Bible. From Slavery to Freedom told the story of our past like no other. I came to Duke because I wanted to walk on the ground where he taught. I’ll never forget our first encounter. I was picking up Chinese food when he walked in to get his take out order. He smiled at the cashier-there was something about this man that stood apart from others.
“Dr. Franklin,” I approached him. “I’m Carl Kenney and I love your work.”

“Carl Kenney,” He said. “I love your work.” My heart stopped beating. He knew my work. His words reflected more of a statement about him than about me. He was in touch with the world around him. Despite his work with President Bill Clinton, and his travels around the world, he found time to read the local newspaper. He was a gentle man. The struggles of his past had not hardened his heart, but rather shaped a man full of faith and love.

Franklin died on yesterday. He left behind countless imprints. Many have been moved by his gentle spirit. Yes, many know his scholarship. Others simply knew the man. From Victor and the boys at Imperial Barbershop next to the Hayti Heritage Center to D.J. Kraze and the patrons of the Ideas Coffee House-Franklin has made an impression that we will never forget.

I called my friend Dante James to check on him yesterday. As a documentary film maker, James has garnered inspiration from the sages. He thought of them when he worked on “Eyes on the Prize”. They walked with him as he produced “Slavery and the Making of America.” I felt his pain as we spoke.

“This is hard Carl,” he said. “This is really hard’.

I reflected on the conversation I had with Dante about Gordon Parks. I imagined then how it must have felt to have a conversation with him. I considered how blessed I have been to walk in the steps of greatness-C. Eric Lincoln, Samuel DeWitt Proctor and John Hope Franklin-three men who are no longer with us.

I approached a stop light near the intersection of HWY 54 and HWY 55 in Durham. As the light turned red I said a prayer. “God, remind me, mold me, teach me,” I paused. “To be more like these great men." I stand on the foundation built by their efforts. I pray for this generation. Our leaders are dying. Our inspiration is dying. Our strength is dying away. Grant us the strength we need to be more like them. “

Amen.

Monkey See, Monkey Do

What’s up with all these monkeys? After weeks of getting over the New York Post cartoon depicting a police officer shooting a monkey, we’re now asked to contend with the display of books at the Coral Gables, Florida Barnes & Noble featuring Barack Obama books into which a book named “Monkeys” was inserted. What’s up with this fascination with connecting black people with monkeys?

My reaction to the cartoon in the New York Post reflected my position as a member of the press. It is my contention the freedom’s articulated in our Constitution must be protected at all cost. As much as the cartoon stirred painful emotions, I stand by the papers right to publish it. As much as I desire the head of the cartoonist and editor who allowed it to be printed on a silver platter, I will stand on the paper’s Constitutional right to publish the thoughts and opinions of those who work for the newspaper.

It is my belief that we suffer, as a nation, when we hold as an expectation a brand of news void of true feelings. The protections of freedom of speech and press are held high within our Constitution due to the struggles of those who fought for our nation’s freedom from British rule. The men and women who settled in America represented a variety of perspectives. They came seeking the freedom to worship void of intrusion from the government. They fought for the right to protest when their thoughts differed from those in rule. Maintaining and protecting our freedoms demands sensitivity toward those who hold opinions that differ from our own.

My hope has been that our modern day press would break free from the limits imposed by the demands of the machinery that fuels our economy. I’ve hoped for a press that would stand outside the restrictions caused by the pursuit of advertisers to maintain the business of informing the public. The press protected in our Constitution regarded the press as the watchdog of government. In many ways the press was seen as an arm of this enterprise we call freedom. The role of the press was to evoke a variety of perspectives. Some of them we like. Many we don’t like.

This is what John Stuart Mills advocated in his classic book “On Liberty”. He pressed for a nation where a variety of opinions would be heard in what he termed “the marketplace of ideas.” That cartoon, as offensive as it is, is an idea. I fight for the right for it to be printed. Why? I do so because it is reflective of an emerging “idea” within our American marketplace of ideas.

What is that emerging idea? That Barack Obama, and the countless others who look like him, have more in common with ‘monkeys’ than humans. As painful as that is for me to hear, I’ve been around the block enough to know it is true. I’m not shocked, nor should anyone who is black, that there exists in America a segment of the population angry that a black man has been elected to hold the highest office in our land. We all knew they would be pissed at that.

We shouldn’t be surprised that monkeys keep popping up. At issue is what do we do when a monkey shows up? I have an answer to that question-nothing. Why feed the flame of discontentment. Why march in opposition when a carton appears? Why boycott Barnes & Noble when a book appears in the middle of others that celebrate our first black President? What difference does it make when we draw more attention to the insanity of those who believe black people are monkeys and don’t deserve the power they have been given?

To protest in this season minimizes the victory of this moment. There’s no need to go back to those days of marching and singing freedom songs. Doing so robs us of the victory won on January 19, 2009. There’s no need to protest and march when the battle has been won. There’s no need to fight the people at Barnes & Noble. They contend it was a prank of one of their customers. I have no reason to dispute that claim. More important than all of that is the truth of my own identity.

No, sir. No ma’am. I am not a monkey. I am a man. I am a black man. I’m a proud black man. As much as you would love to reduce me to the image of your own imagination, I have no time to play your game. The class has been dismissed on that old strategy. Play monkey see, monkey do. As for me, I will merely laugh at you and pray.

What will I pray? I pray that you will grow up and see the truth. You can’t change what we have chosen as a nation. Call him a monkey if you want. If that’s your truth I have a suggestion for you. Go rent the movie “Planet of the Apes.” Watch it close, because in that world the monkeys rule the humans. So, bow down to the monkey.

In the meantime, remember one thing.-“Sticks and stones may break my bones but….” You know the rest.

Coulter's Attack on Single Moms

I had to give the sisters a standing ovation. The women of “The View” put their foot so far up Ann Coulter’s behind she’s still screaming for someone to pull them out.

For those who missed it, Coulter appeared on “The View” to discuss her new book “Guilty: Liberal Victims and Their Assault on America”. It didn’t take long for things to get out of control. “We’ve all been discussing your book on camera,” Barbara Walters said in her introduction of Coulter.

“Yes, I’ve heard,” Coulter said, interrupting Walters.

“Good, you should be pleased,” Walters snapped back, which silenced Coulter.

From there Whoopi Golberg pressed a discussion on Coulter’s view of single mothers. “What is your issue with single mothers?” Whoopi Goldberg inquired.

After a lengthy rant, Coulter then took issue with the manner in which Hollywood is portraying women having children out of marriage. “It’s the new thing, as opposed to the sex tape,” Coulter said of single moms. “Hollywood, mainstream media, the New York Times, women’s magazines, exalting single motherhood, movie after movie about single motherhood, book after book, sisters are doing it for themselves.”

Goldberg stopped Coulter in the middle of her assault against single moms,“ Are you married? Do you have kids?”

“No, but it wouldn’t change the difference of the facts I cite,” Coulter said, referring to the claims she makes in her book.

“Well, it would,” Goldberg countered. “If you had children, you would know more of what you’re talking about.”

Coulter then accused Walters of reading her book like it was something Adolf Hitler had written.
I’ve never heard my book read aloud, like you’re reading Mein Kampf, and I just did,” Coulter told Walters, referring to Hitler’s manifesto. “Read it like you’re reading Mein Kampf again!”

“I don’t think I did,” Walters said.

“I think you did,” Coulter snapped. “You spat out the words, like I wasn’t sitting here.”

“I don’t appreciate the way you’re talking to her,” Sherri Shepherd told Coulter defending Walters. “Nobody is attacking you. You don’t have to talk to her like that!”

“They are killing her...she just as well lay down in a grave somewhere and consider herself "DEAD"......Wow....her picture in the dictionary right beside the definition of 'JERK',” one of my friends responded in an email.

I enjoyed the way they poked holes in Coulter’s claim. I stood in pride as they put an old school whipping on Coulter and her conservative perspective. I made an assumption that only Rush Limbaugh and his locked in the past disciples would resent the women of “The View” and side with Coulter. Boy, was I wrong.

Something must have gone bad in the water. I turned on the radio this morning to listen to Russ Parr and his morning crew. The subject was Ann Coulter. I had to pull my car over as I listened to caller after caller agree with her views. I checked my radio. Did I have the wrong freaking station? Nope. Parr’s voice confirmed I was dialed in at 97.5 FM.

One caller chastised those single moms for sleeping with no count men, having their babies while assuming they could change the no good baby daddy. Another caller slammed the single mamas for raising sons to become thugs and crooks. His claim- a woman can’t raise a boy by herself. No one should be allowed to come into this world without a daddy, and it’s the fault of those women who had sex with the bums.

I expected my sisters to come to the rescue. They were just as bad. One caller attacked single moms for the misery they cause society. “They have babies then go to file for child support. They shouldn’t have babies if they’re not ready to have them…”

I was exhausted by it all. Instead of beating on women who do their best with what they have been given, we should be blasting all of the dead beat dads out there for refusing to be more than a child support payment-if that. I understand the argument coming from a white woman with no children, no husband, no life and no compassion. I get why Coulter feels the way she does, but someone help me, please help me, uncover how so many black folks got trapped into embracing that brand of thinking?

Have we forgotten how the entire village came together to raise June Bug and Juicy Fruit? What happened to the community that came together to add love when Baby Jane made a mistake and got pregnant. My problem with all of the black folks who threw the first stone is in how their claim negates the strength of black love. It places the life of each child back in the hands of the baby mama, and forgets how we, as a community, came to the rescue when Papa was a rolling stone.

I despise the way we attack the single mom because it leaves her alone to do what each of us should do. Single moms should never be single moms. Not when there is a church around the corner, and the next corner and the next. Not when you have a family of brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends. Not when you have a mother, father, grandparents and play mamas and papas to fill the voids. We should never throw those stones at a single mama when there is a village to step in to raise the children.

I can’t blame Coulter for being stuck in the insight of conservative America. I have no problem with a person who hasn’t experienced the love of a community when a baby is born without a mother and father in the home. I understand why she would think all of the woes of society can be attributed to the death of the traditional family structure. There are some statistics to validate her point. I won’t argue against that, but I will blast any black person who chimes the tune of conservative rhetoric.

There’s a phrase used to express feelings related to such folks. Negro Please.

More than Our Praise

I just completed a lengthy conversation regarding the state of the Black church in Durham, North Carolina. Every year, the folks who attend Black churches in Durham gather for a citywide revival. My friend asked if I would attend. Why not? I am the pastor of one of those churches. I told him I can’t stomach the emotions that come after I walk away from witnessing the faithful play games with God.

Don’t take this the wrong way. I love the worship of my people. The love the rhythm of the music and the stirring of the crowd that comes after each “Amen”. I love the call for justice to roll down like the river and the release of pain that comes with each “Thank you Jesus!”

I haven’t given up on black faith. I’m simply disappointed in how we have strayed from the principals that led us to this historical moment. I’m discouraged by how we’ve watched our communities deteriorate as larger temples are built in the midst of boarded up houses and drug infested neighborhoods. I shared with him the frustration I carry due to listening and watching as people seek ways to overcome the cycle of pain that has stripped them of all hope. I shared how I feel when I sit and watch, listen and wait for proof that our claims match our actions.

“But you have been on the top,” he reminded me of my former days as pastor of the Orange Grove Baptist Church-one of Durham’s leading black congregations. You know what it’s like to be one of the leading pastors in the city. You know it’s not all the fault of the leaders”

“I do,” I responded. “That’s why it hurts so much. It hurts because I have learned the lesson due to my own mistakes. I’ve learned that we have established institutions that pimp the people, and, in the process, create huge gaps between those who have and those who seek to find their way.”

I did my best to help him understand my position. For the past month I have grieved due to what I perceive to be dying faith among so many. I’ve listened as countless people share with me their issues with organized religion. I hear them talk about why they refuse to participate in the church of my mother and father. Something is missing. In the past, I perceived this as an excuse coming from those unwilling to change their ways. I would pray for God to touch them, teach them and lead them. My thoughts have shifted.

Some of what I feel may be correlated to my own struggles with that old time religion. I will confess I have deep wounds resulting from the insensitivity and callous ways of those who cast me out. I’ve prayed for God to release the anger I carried. In time I have discovered that my issues go much deeper than what has happened to me. What miffs me is about how our clinging to our past prevents us from seeing what God has for our future. There is something missing-something significant and critical-that demands our attention. People are hurting. People need comfort and peace. People need direction.

What does all of this mean about me? Sadly, it is getting harder for me to align myself with those who call themselves Christian. Why? Because I hurt for those who have been harmed by the language of misguided faith. I feel for my gay and lesbian friends who can’t find a home to worship while being open about their relationship. I ache for those who listen to the venom coming from pulpits while they only seek to find their own way to God.

I’ve cried all week over the death of men, women and children in Gaza. I trimmer whenever I hear a minister talk about God’s will related to war. I’m angry at the waving of flags in God’s name, and the promotion of an agenda as a holy war. I’m fed up with narrow minded Christians that launch words of hate rather than walking in love.

I’m tired of the lies and rebuke. I’m past being tired at the competition among the faithful to build a mega movement and the theologically unsound sermons that keep people in bondage. We need something different. Something empowering and transformative. Something more than words on a Sunday morning and a few programs that make us feel better each week.

We need to reach this generation that has given up on living spiritually. Can’t you see them as they walk away? Can’t you see them looking for other ways to deal with spiritual matters?
I tried to get my friend to see it. Maybe it’s too soon for his eyes to be opened. Or, maybe it’s just me.

Obama's Victory: My Black Skin

I stood there drenched in tears. I couldn’t stop them. I didn’t want to stop them. Each drop baptized a once painful memory, transforming it into a new truth. This is the American Dream. I felt it, for the first time. I understood, for the first time, the pride felt by others when they say those words-“I pledge allegiance to the flag…”, “God bless America…”

I understood what Michelle Obama meant when she said “this is the first time I’ve been proud of my country.” She was attacked for failing to embrace what others took for granted. Yes, she and her husband, Barack, are the beneficiaries of the opportunities offered those who live in this country. Both were able to pull themselves up from their own boot straps and create success from woeful pasts. Sometime was missing. Something so deep that no words could express the angst within her spirit.

She felt the change coming when she made that statement. A whirlwind of emotions stirred within her because of what she saw and felt-people coming together to pave the way for her husband to become President. Hope caught hold and she couldn’t hold it in-yes, I’m proud of my country, and yes, it is the first time I have felt like this.

My friend April Garret called me the day after the election. “Carl you know I love being black. My black skin feels so much better today,” she said. So true. I have always loved my skin, but have walked in fear that others would use it against me. I stood there waiting for something to go wrong. It all seemed too good to be true. Not in America. Not given our history. America isn’t ready for my skin. I trembled with each projection made. He won Virginia, it’s getting closer. He won Ohio. Could it be?

My heart wouldn’t stop beating. So many memories now. I remembered the day Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. As I walked home from school, three white boys grabbed me, threw me into a tree, kicked me and then spat in my face. “Your King is dead Nigger,” I cried there cuddled under the tree. Why me? What had I done? It then came to me-they hated my skin.

Other memories kept coming. Like the day I walked into my high school counselor’s office to talk about my future. I sat in the chair across from him. He never pulled my file. He talked to me about learning a trade. I told him I wanted to go to college and become a writer. He told me I was wasting my time. He never looked at my grades. I wondered why. He hated my black skin.

I reflected on the hostility I carried because of my skin. I remembered how my former in-laws told me to give up on school and take a job washing dishes at the nearby restaurant. “You think you better than everyone else,” one of them told me. I left the room and cried. I cried alone in hope of support from someone, anyone, who would tell me I have more to offer, that I have a talent and that I should pursue my dream. They too hated my black skin.

I watched Jesse Jackson cry. I wondered what he was thinking. Maybe it was King’s dream. Maybe it was his own quest for the White House. Other’s cried too. My tears overwhelmed me. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I took a look at my skin, that beautiful black skin, and I loved me in a way that had escaped my grasp. “They love you too Carl,” I released the bitterness of the years. “They love your black skin too.”

I looked deeper, much deeper, and then the words came out. “You can love your skin too.” I looked at my skin. It had been the reason for my hostility and the crutch of my pessimism. “Look at this!” I cried out. “Look at this Fredrick Douglass. Look at what you helped do. Look at this Fannie Lou Hammer, look Marcus Garvery, look at me Emitt Till, look Medger Evers, Abner Luma, look James Byrd, look Shirley Chisholm. Look at this!”

Look at this skin. Look at this freedom. Look at this unity. Look at this America, this new America, and shout with me. Shout as loud as you can. Wave your black fist high and shout with me-God Bless America, land of the free.

This is my country too! Thank you America for giving us what we have needed. It’s more than those 40 acres and mules you promised. You have proven that you trust us. Thank you.

Look at my black skin!

Baptist Position on Women Inconsistent

I’m confused by the hypocrisy of some people. I can take people disregarding and disrespecting others because of some difference. Stupidity I can deal with. I’m used to that. What I can’t take is the inconsistency that comes with making a decision to limit a person due to gender, race or sexual orientation.

An example comes from the good ole boys club called the Southern Baptist Convention. These Christians love to hate. Last year it was Mickey Mouse for Disney’s policy to provide benefits to gay and lesbian couples. A few churches got kicked out of the convention for being too loving. Give me a break.

The most recent attack, one mo time, is against women in ministry. It’s an old battle that is one among many issues that led to a split within the convention. Those Southern Baptist Christians get a thrill out of getting their women to submit to their husbands and remaining in their rightful place. Wash them dishes woman and get my food on that table.

The Southern Baptist Convention is the owner of LifeWay Christian stores. The convention decided to pull copies of Gospel Today, a Christian magazine based out of Atlanta, due to its cover story featuring five female pastors. God forbid! How dare that magazine promote the role of women as leaders! How dare they push for the equality of women given the Bibles clear position against women taking a leadership role!

I could engage in a long conversation into how those who take that position don’t know how to read. Please give me a break. Those Southern Baptist are so enamored with maintaining a culture that affirms those with male genitalia that they reject the truth glaring them in the face. I just wish people would learn to read rather than hate.

Local folks are livid because one of our local gems is on that cover. Sheryl Brady, the 48-year-old pastor of the River Church, was featured in that story. It irked me that the focus of the decision is rooted in the gender of the folks on the cover versus the theological basis behind their ministry. I have issues with the women on the cover, but it’s not because of gender. It’s their theology and lack of training that gets under my skin. But that’s a discussion for another day.

Let’s talk about that hypocrisy. Those same Christians, who have the guts to pull a magazine because it promotes the leadership of women, are positioned to vote for a woman to take second seat in leading our nation. Help me understand why that doesn’t sound like someone is hooked on stupid.

Are they saying a woman can lead the nation but not a congregation of 800 people? If a woman is prohibited, by gender, from leading a church, why would they grant a sister a right to lead the nation? If you plan on taking a sexist position please be consistent with your sexism. It’s getting complicated for those who are trying to keep up with your narrow mindedness.

I’m prepared to accept that those Southern Baptist Christians refuse to accept that God loves all people in the same way, and that men don’t get special privileges because they have a penis. No problem. That helps me in deciding where to go to worship. I’d rather not fellowship with people tainted by stupidity and hatred.

I will give them space to hate on their own, but please people, if you are going to disregard women, be consistent. That’s all I’m asking. Just stay on the same page so we can adjust to your foolishness.

I Can See Russia From Outside My Door

You can see Russia from outside my front door. She said that! She made a point to remind us that those Russians can easily make their way over to American soil and attack at will! What a desperate attempt to strike fear among all those who remember the Cuban missile crisis and the Cold War years.

Those darn Russians are close, and I, as the Governor of Alaska, serve the role of protecting our American borders. Give me a break Gov! The Cold War ended with the fall of the iron curtain. Russia isn’t what it used to be, and most intelligent American’s aren’t buying into that game anymore. Whoops! Forgive me. Maybe they are. Maybe Americans are dumb enough to feed into the “we better watch our back” game.

The implied statement made during Sarah Palin’s interview with Charlie Gibson makes it easier to understand how so many Americans think. I have been dumbfounded by how Americans are so easily duped into embracing a we versus them mentality that has the world snubbing us due to our arrogance. I know! I Know! 911 is proof that we should never take national security for granted. Things have changed in the good ole U.S. of A.

But that assertion was way over the top. Implied in her statement was a gross exaggeration of her role as head of the states National Guard. Because of her leadership, we are led to believe; those darn Russians have been kept from coming over here. Look at me. I’m like the head of state, leading our troops into protecting our national interest.

I sure hope Americans are smart enough to read between these lines of Bull fertilizer. But wait. Please wait. There’s more in her statement that Americans need to ponder. If she can see Russia from outside her door, doesn’t that prove how far removed she is from the typical American agenda? She’s a long way from where I live down in Durham, North Carolina. Shucks, I doubt if she has ever encountered some of the issues that are common within my backyard.

4,4875 miles. That’s how far Anchorage, Alaska is from Durham, North Carolina. It takes 75 hours and 13 minutes to drive there. You have to drive through Edmonton, Calgary and Vancouver before you make it to Anchorage. I realize the state has some statistics that resonates with most Americans-number seven in the nation in violent crimes. Number one in the nation, that’s right, numero uno, in reported rapes. The people in Alaska have some of the same problems with crime facing the rest of us, but for different reasons.

Alaska has a thriving economy driven by the oil industry. In 2006, the State Gross Product was 43.6 Billion, the 5th highest in the nation. “Crime is really high there because people have noting to do,” a former resident of Alaska told me. “My father is a judge there, and he’s happy I no longer live there because it is safer in Durham, NC.” What! Are you serious! It’s safer in Durham “shoot em up, gang banga capital of North Carolina?” Has pops seen “Welcome to Durham”, the documentary that portrayed Durham as an unsafe place to live?

So, let me get this right. Crime is higher, much higher in Alaska because people have nothing else to do. It’s high because it’s so dark and people get depressed. They fill voids with alcohol and drugs and do crazy things because they have nowhere to go. That’s life in Alaska. Oh, let’s not forget you can see Russia from your front door.

Life up there is completely different than life down here. You have your social outcasts who live there because they want to remove themselves from life as we know it in the other states. You can’t take a drive to another state. You can go hunt and fish, get a few drinks and turn on the tube and watch “American Idol” or “Dancing With the Stars”. Sounds like a lot of fun! Life away from the rest of us, and Russia is so very, very close.

Those are the type of credentials we need in a person who may be called upon to lead our nation. Someone far removed from the rest of us. Who wants a president who has the benefit of the American label but never has to connect to American problems? Who wants a president who has never contended with the demographics the rest of us take for granted?

It’s one thing to deal with a few enraged people struggling to find a way to have fun. It’s a different matter when you have people who are grappling with finding a way to survive after the plant has moved overseas. It’s one thing to refuse to take a job with the petroleum company because it doesn’t fit your free and easy spirit, versus not finding work because work can’t be found.

Oh well. I suppose we have a few things in common. Can’t you see Russia from outside your front door?