“I know I got it made while the masses of Black people are catchin’ hell, but as long as they ain’t free, I ain’t free.” — Muhammad Ali
I am (very happily!) married, I live in a safe neighborhood, I love our home, we get to host Soul Food Sundays to gather our generations; I am very grateful for these gifts from the storehouse. These blessings, though, do not blind me to the realities we face for our Blackness daily.
My life is not immune from the wounds of racism, the ugliness of Black-on-Black politics, or the pain that comes with our human problems; so my gifts won’t allow me to be content, to sit on Dr. King’s “stool of do nothingness,” while the village burns.
Many of us in my generation came up in neighborhoods, not war zones. Many of us came up in a time when people looked you in the eye and spoke to you by name, not shrouded in the veil of invisibility our babies suffer today. Many of us came up in a time when you believed that most adults were good, that they were safe, and if someone wasn’t right, your parents would be your shield.
Our kids today are, in too large a number, parenting themselves, left to their own understanding about how to navigate the world.
Too many of our babies are left in the trauma that results from economic segregation, homelessness, physical or sexual abuse, the grief that comes with burying 13-, 14- and 16-year-olds. Our babies, pouring out of funeral homes rather than park buildings; victims of murder with no arrests; ours, who are the number-one group in the state to be placed in the child welfare system, and to be placed outside of their homes.
Stripped of their history, learning love in a world where we “dump” people on Facebook, where our babies are left to live in trap houses — misused by adults or raising themselves, when almost one-half of Black youth can expect to be unemployed, and no one knows why we have kids riding on bicycles doing drive-by shootings?
I am asking you to join me in the movement for getting back to good. A new campaign is being launched across the 87 neighborhoods of Minneapolis to start the conversation — what responsible communication in my neighborhood? What are the things we expect in our neighborhood, the values that are most important to us, and how do we make that known for residents and visitors alike?
How do we define respect, and how do we model that as the minimum standard for our young people? Responsible communications: I can’t cuss like a sailor and expect my children to speak like angels. I can’t dress too provocatively and expect my children to develop a sense for what a mother should be. I can’t let the wrong people in my home to be around my children and expect my children to do right. If I did, I should be called a hypocrite.
Our children need role models — not the kind of folly when a public figure drops in on a neighborhood center, pumps up the host organization, makes a donation, spreads a few autographs and inspiration, then heads back to wherever.
They need boots on the ground — “everyday heroes” who model for them what responsible behavior looks like, who speak respectfully and responsibly, and who lead by example. This is not a call for the perfect — no, this honest work will require adults like me, who consider ourselves “works in progress” — I am still growing and I want to share what I know now, and what I will know later, with our babies and grandbabies. I want them to know who stole their history, and why he stole it.
I am asking you, if the shoe fits, to come up off of the stool of do nothingness and join me in the revolution to get the village back to good.
Can you dig it?
Hear Lissa Jones’ radio show “Urban Agenda” on 89.9 KMOJ-FM Thursday nights at 6 pm, stream her live at www.kmojfm.com, or read web posts from Lissa at www.kmojfm.com. She welcomes reader responses to ljones@spokesman-recorder.com.
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