When Least Expected™

The Other Three

January 17th, 2007 at 10:50am Manchild

Congratulations to all the diligent, resilient souls who got up and showed up on day 17 of 2007 to inspire each other to keep digging deeper and climbing higher than before when we didn’t know better. I challenge each of you to join hands as we stand tall on the strong shoulders of our ancestors and form a symbolic ”spiritual hedge of protection” around all the innocent children with “no safe place to play” during such a violent season as this. To give all God’s children hope that they will live long enough to birth their big dreams, I challenge all who dwell under the rising and setting sun to end their prolonged betrayal of silence about Iraq and tell President George W. Bush,

“We The People” don’t want to study war no more!!

Reading today’s entry will explain the reasons why I used the boundless gift of creativity, poetry, and photography to nullify the power of the true lie that compelled one too many young people to lose hope and unwisely choose to ”die high” instead of wisely choosing to spread their wings and fly like an eagle. In 1992, I refused to embrace the true lie that every beautiful Black face I saw in South Central Los Angeles was a ”menace” to an “artificially stratified society” that had deliberately failed to edify the same God-fearing men with “skin darker than a brown paper bag” one too many self-deceived souls now called an “endangered species.” Besides, God was still sitting high, but low, to ensure great people like you would know what to do with the huge mess Anger, Hate, and Injustice created.

After the “civil unrest” that rocked L.A. in 1992, a galvanized group of men from First A.M.E. Church, under the leadership of Dr. Cecil L. “Chip” Murray, walked the streets of South Central to take back our neighborhoods. Our individual efforts varied according to the diversity of spiritual gifts and talents God blessed each of us with to fulfill our Father’s sovereign will. For example, I met Dr. Bernard Kinsey while he was employed with Xerox. I’ve always respected and admired this great man for utilizing his exemplary leadership skills to help steer the efforts of “Rebuild L.A.” through unchartered waters. Mr. John “Hope” Bryant, a fellow member of F.A.M.E. birthed “Operation Hope” out of the ashes God traded for beauty. Mr. Bryant focused much needed attention on the unmet financial needs of the South Central residents. The practice of ”red lining” repeatedly denied many of these great people meaningful access to the same conventional bank loans with low interest rates that L.A.’s wealthy residents frequently enjoyed.

Suffice it to say that U.S. Congresswoman Maxine Waters and former U.S. Congresswoman Diane Watson were just two of the great women who rose to the occasion, stood side by side with a galvanized group of great men, and chose to speak truth to power in love until somebody listened. Although my military training and management experience taught me the basics about leadership, I learned so much while observing and working under a plethora of highly effective leadership styles. What appeared to be just another painful moment became a meaningful moment as I stood amongst all the spiritual giants who kept writing “reality checks” that divisive spin doctors, politically correct power brokers, and disingenuous law enforcement officials kept sending back stamped “insufficient funds.”

After the police officers who beat Mr. Rodney King were found “not guilty,” one too many of the impoverished residents of South Central L.A. felt that one too many powerful people sitting in influential positions of power had betrayed their trust with their prolonged silence about the truth. All this pent up resentment and unresolved anger erupted at “ground zero” and spread like an unabated brush fire. Meanwhile, one too many of the deceived members of violent, diametrically opposed street gangs believed the pervasive lie that “bustin’ a cap was fundamental” if they honestly expected to “survive in South Central.” Alas, one stray bullet after another stopped hitting their intended targets and started killing the hopes, dreams, and aspirations of the next gifted generation’s promising leaders. It was perplexing to me back then to discover some of the underlying reasons why so many powerful people sitting in high places lacked the power and authority to stop the violence from erupting.

It was also ironic that so many of the young children living in South Central L.A. didn’t trust the emotionally detached police officers swearing with one hand to protect and serve the same smiling faces they kept racially profiling under color of law with the other as their parents drove back and forth to work or church. The tragic events of this eye opening experience became one the defining moments in my life that shifted my “petrified paradigm” about what the word “leadership” really meant. As stated in a previous entry, I started reading books about leadership and learning how to develop the leadership skills that literally got birthed in the blazing fires that symbolized the darkness of the hopelessness Despair creates. My traumatic ground zero experience gave a new meaning to the religious phrase, “baptized by fire.”

I recall sending out a press release with the heading “ALL BLACK MEN DON’T GANG BANG!” with every word in the body of my release in ”all capital letters” before a trusted friend informed me that doing so symbolized that I was “yelling” every capitalized word. Was I angry? Yes. I had heard that 1 out of every 4 Black men belonged to a gang or participated in some form of criminal activity. So, I sat down and penned today’s entry about the other three Black men who also felt minimized, criminalized, and demoralized simply because they “fit the description.”

THE OTHER THREE

Are you a man of colour who, by the saving grace of Almighty God, has lived long enough to see at least three decades come and go? I, like many, never had to gang bang to survive, partake in any illicit criminal activities, serve hard time for a violent crime, or grow up in an inner-city hood or the ghetto. But this doesn’t make any of us better or give the middle or upper class the right to pass judgement on those who must live with the adverse consequences of the choices they never personally selected. Contrary to the popular belief of a few, only one out of every four Black men we meet on the street may be hangin’ out with Bad News and Trouble for failing to become inwardly instead of outwardly directed.

So, what about the other three Black men who seem to be ignored by society or trapped between oppressive hands of myopic men still trying to suppress their desire to excel? How many falsely arrested Black men have mistakenly “fit the description” of the one out of every three deceived souls who believed a “true lie” and instead of heading up to college found themselves going down to jail? How many actually innocent Black men did Injustice deny equal justice under a fatally flawed law to ensure eyes focused on a prize only saw the dark side of the moon? No wonder the successful few who knew the truth that made captive souls free often reminisced about eighteen hour days they never missed when oatmeal, or no meal, kissed many a parched lip instead of the shiny tip of a silver spoon.

Despite a pervasive prejudicial belief that turned every Black man into a thief, hard work doesn’t frighten dark-skinned men with character but the prospects of finding honest work where the other three aren’t considered liabilities range from none to slim. Would the same profiteers who profited at the expense of another human being for hundreds of years curse God and die high if every day of every week of every month Opportunity’s door remained off limits to them? By grace will the truth that made the other three free also enable the guilty one to understand that when Adversity closes a door, the mighty hand of the Great Architect can create a window in the thickest of walls. Besides, how long can a house divided by a true lie and built on the sinking sand of bipartisan division resist the mighty winds of Change before its very flawed foundation crumbles and falls? Think about it.

In closing, challenge the great people you meet on the street to ask the Great Architect on high to gift our generation with the tools our noble hands need to stop the violence so heart-broken parents can stop crying over all the innocent children “dying for nothing.” How many more children must die with big dreams still inside their gifted souls before their generation knows how it feels to stand tall on all the strong shoulders of ancestors now turning over in their graves? I don’t know about you but one more deceased child is one too many. Matters not the colour of that innocent child’s skin. Besides, according to Acts 17:26, aren’t all the great women and men who populate humanity’s culturally diverse global village just one big dysfuntional blended extended family? Think about it.

Popularity: 3% [?]

Add bookmark to: