THE LIES THAT PEOPLE TELL THEMSELVES and the people who follow.....
I haven't posted a blog in a long time, but I felt it was time to do so. My last blog focused on what we as a people of color need to do to better our communities, lift ourselves up and lead.
This blog is on a more personal tip.
It's been a difficult stretch of months for my family and I. We recently lost someone very near and dear to us. At the time of this I was in Panama trying restructure my life, I guess. I traveled there with a woman I called my girlfriend and for the most part she fit the role perfectly. She often claimed to have my back and would stand by me shoulder to shoulder. I thank her for that, I do.
BRAVO, well played!
But, as time had trickled by I began to notice various alarming things about her personality I ignored which today I fully regret.
You see after losing this person in my life, this so-called girlfriend stud by me, but after realizing I needed to get back on that proverbial horse and rebuild my life, this person within three months of suffering the most devastating lost in my life decided it's time for her to come out and free herself from our 'trouble" relationship.
TROUBLED? WHAT?
Yea, it wasn't perfect, but nothing is ever perfect. We traveled the world together, almost had a child together, gain a dog together, were close to buying a house together, and little do she know I was close to dropping to the one knee.
Look it's her right first and foremost, to move on. It's entirely different when that person acts as if the other person was horrible and everyone saw it but me.
Don't make me laugh!
Oh, to those things I noticed about this person, well I began to see how often she takes the truth and twist them. Recently, after I expressed my love for her and wanted to talk so that we can workout things, she went silent. Then I discovered this post indicating how liberated she suddenly is now that she has freed herself from me. Our relationship was a farce, an act that she felt compelled to keep up for five years. I couldn't believe it. It cut deep. I'm not perfect, but I am not what this person is or has been saying I was.
In the mist of our 5 year relationship she has constantly been painting herself as innocent, sweet, and level headed.
THIS IS A LIE!
I'm not trying to come out and sound like a sour grapes kind of person, but the audacity of her to paint our time as hellish is sad, wrong, and sick.
Now mind you I am still dealing with my lost, in which case, she compared how other family members are dealing with the lost and how I should match them. The nerve of her to tell me how I need to grieve.
When you think someone cares for you and you find out they don't that sucks, but when you find out someone lives in a delusional world where she is innocent of all wrong doing and you are suddenly a villain that, that sucks even more.
I hate how she gets to masquerade around like her shit don't stink with her family patting her on the back. Mind you this is the same family she has hurled all types of insults about for not letting her lead her own life. She uses friends that she has made as spring boards to lift herself up. That's something they don't know, but this is what she does. Honestly I thought two particular friends would truly help out. They are strong and beautiful, and have an I don't give a damn I can do anything kind of attitude despite having physical aliments. I admire these two and hoped that this very attitude would rub off on this person, but instead she paints me as a heel so that they can congratulate her for freeing herself.
The magazine she started - I pushed her to do. After years of talking about it, I wanted her to put her money where her mouth is. She did, but she over budgeted herself thus she lost more then she gained. The way to fix this, charge for advertising, but she wouldn't do it. Blamed me and said I was pushing her to hard. HELLO! This is your dream.
Stepping away from being a long term nanny and going after her career - I pushed her to do it. Again, talking about running a marathon won't win the race.
Introduced her to New Orleans, which in some ways I truly regret, but not simply because of her -- the personal lost thing again. Sorry guys.
Anyway, in NOLA she began to work for a company that while was a headache to work for, it sure helped her build her resume and learn things.
Zipping away and heading to PANAMA - yep me again, found her a job too, but that was hell and every evening while in this great country I had to hear about how it sucks and everything financially is on her.
Oh, I'm sorry, I only paid for us to be her. Wait! and I paid for us to get to NOLA too. (But, this is just being in a relationship, idiot)
I know it sounds like I'm taking the credit for her growth into the liberated woman she supposedly has become. I'm not, she busted her ass and I am proud of her, but I'm not the villain she's making me out to be. Honestly I deserve better. I thought I had that with her.
But, THESE ARE THE LIES PEOPLE TELL THEMSELVES.
People like this suck!
You know what, BRITTNEY SCHERING, in hindsight, you suck!
COLORED
"Colored" follows the trials and tribulations of the Porter family as they come to grips with the changing world around them during the late 1950s.
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
Sunday, January 18, 2015
The Better or… Worse? Of Desegregation
It is late into the wee hours night, and I am unable to
sleep. I steer left then right in my bed, often gazing up at the ceiling, eyes
ajar, wide-awake. As I peer into the never-ending darkness, I rise from my
attempted slumber. In an effort to
not disturb my girlfriend and our troublesome dog, I creep on my tiptoes and
gently turn the knob of our bedroom door to exit the room. The house is quiet,
with the exception of the continuous hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. The
neighborhood of Uptown is quiet, with the occasional few night owls returning
home from a fun-filled evening of debauchery.
Like most nights when I am not
able to rest, I reach for the remote control and search the channels of the
idiot box. On this particular evening, in the technological changing world that
we live in, I search my Netflix account on my “smart” TV and stumble on to a short documentary about the efforts to
re-segregate an area of Baton Rouge. This effort would lead to the rebranding
of the city, splitting one area that is predominately white into its own city,
while leaving the city of Baton Rouge to be, well, Baton Rouge. Different thoughts regarding this
situation enter my mind. As I play devil’s advocate and digest the story I just
watched, I’m left with a hard truth that is often ignored when we look at
situations involving blacks and whites and their respective communities. But,
before I investigate that hard fact, let me explain how this issue hits close
to home.
In my youth, I grew up in a small town of Sardis, Ms. It’s a
forgotten and little discussed about community hidden in the blanket of forest
just north of the state. One would call Sardis a truck stop town, only there is
very little for a drained and exhausted truck driver to stop for. With a
McDonald’s, couple of gas stations, a dollar store, and a downtown that one
would swear was a back lot in Hollywood; Sardis is a relic. Nevertheless, this
town is home to my father and the majority of his siblings. Sardis is a tight
society where everybody knows your name, yep, like Cheers. So, when the time came for my family to leave
Chicago, my father saw it fitting to pack up his family and bring us to his
home – “our” home. One key fact to
Sardis, it’s also predominately African American. During my time in Sardis, I
went to a school that was made up of mostly African Americans. When it was time
for me to go to middle school, I wanted a different, in some respects, a better
experience than what Sardis could offer, at least at the time. Rather then
continuing my education in Sardis I, and my family alike, decided to send me to
Batesville, Ms.
Batesville, like Sardis, is a small, truck stop town that runs
through the northern area of Mississippi, but unlike Sardis, Batesville had
made it a mission to catch up with the times and was more affluent then Sardis,
thus there was this illusion that a better education could be obtained. The
town of Batesville is home to various chains, be it grocery stores or
restaurants. Most, if not all, of Batesville’s streets were paved well before
Sardis. Neighborhoods carry the aura of the American dream. The town square
pays homage to a simpler time; meanwhile, the town surrounding it continues to
develop.
While attending what could be considered the better of the
Panola County’s two halves, Batesville being South Panola and Sardis being
North Panola, I was exposed to a different perspective from teachers and their
commitment to their students. It felt as if the teachers of Batesville put more
effort into teaching the kids. Classrooms were smaller and the teachers were
more responsive to a child’s needs. The kids of Batesville appeared to be more
of the representation of what I expected from society upon growing into
adulthood. With its glowing praise, there was always this unspoken impression
that Batesville was better than that of Sardis, and it didn’t take a scholar
with a PHD to see why and from where this point of view derived. While
Batesville is somewhat mixed, the majority of its citizens are white— at least
that was the case in the early nineties. With Sardis suffering from a
several-years-old murder case that has haunted the town ‘til this day – or at
least that’s the story my father has told – Sardis and its patrons were literally
left on the back of the bus never reaching their true destination.
I myself wanted a seat at the front of the bus, and I wanted
no part in being left behind. Oddly enough, I found myself in a sort of post-desegregation
busing situation that was once a political football dating back to my own
parents’ time. In the twentieth century and now the twenty-first century, history
truly does repeat itself. This is a sad assessment of our so-called great
nation, but this is not isolated to the boundaries of USA alone. No, history
and its vicious cycle is a curse that the world must bear.
But I digress, I had some fond memories and great
experiences while attending school in Batesville, but that would not last. As
my 8th grade year began, my family and I received news that I would
have to leave the school I was attending in Batesville and go to school in my
own county, South Panola – Sardis. It was decided, after three years of going
to school in Batesville, I was not able to continue because I was not in “my” school district. Regardless of the
fact that the bus driver who drove me to school was my next-door neighbor,
regardless of the fact that my family had a sort of namesake in the towns of Batesville
and Sardis alike, I was forced to leave my school just as the New Year was taking
shape. Rather than go to school in Sardis, I packed up my things and I was off,
back to The Windy City – Chicago, where I attended Catholic school before going
into high school.
I, being an individual who thirsts for diversity, needed the
experience of a multicultural environment. I have been this way since I was a
kid, and I am still this way to this very day. I feel it is important for all
children to experience other races and cultures, but on this fateful night as I
watch this documentary, I am left with this burning question. It is a question
that I cringe to even ask myself as well as anyone else, but did desegregation
inadvertently cause more harm than good over the years since the historic day
when the Supreme Court ruled in Brown vs. the board of education? To elaborate
more, did desegregation allow for African Americans to disregard their own
communities, letting many slip into depression and poverty? Has forcing schools
to treat their African-American student body as cattle to meet their “black” quota aided in divisiveness
rather then inclusion?
In watching the documentary, the group of patrons, who so
desperately want to reclaim their schools from the evil and oppressive city
legislation to bus poverty-stricken kids into their communities, make the
argument that this has nothing to do with race. They feel that their school
system is being affected, thus the kids’ education is being affected. That
could be true, but like most things in this country, many of its problems share
a deep connection to “race.”
I will suspend disbelief though and assume that the suffering
of children’s education is all that has lent to these actions and the
neighborhood’s petition to see their section of Baton Rouge become its own
city. The documentary paints the false assumption that this nation isn’t still
segregated when it is more segregated than ever. It is this writer’s opinion
that the fight to desegregate this country has led to the dilemma we face
today. Now I’m not stupid, of course desegregation had and should have happened,
but forcing races to intermingle will only create more resentment for each race
being forced to accept the other. This is a step in the wrong direction, and we
as a nation have been stepping backwards for years.
Desegregation was meant to create better opportunities for
people of all races, to co-exist; however, it was not meant to neglect our own
communities.
In some respects, this is indicative of African Americans as
a whole. Many of our communities are left to only dream and pray for prosperity
rather than work hard to truly achieve it, and that comes from the inside out,
not the other way around. Blacks
are left sitting on the back of the bus while people of other races enter their
neighborhoods. They are left to overhaul the dilapidated communities that they still
call home. This process is happening in many major cities across North America.
Does this statement represent all African-American communities? Of course not,
but not facing this truth will leave the blind leading the blind.
With further examination, one would draw parallels to the
pitfalls African Americans as a whole had to endure to even reach the
milestones that they have obtained at this point. Through faith all is
possible. It’s a great motto for perseverance. It is the motto that led African
Americans to stay strong in the face of the evil that is slavery. It is the
motto that led African Americans to march with Dr. King in protest of their
treatment in this country. It is the motto that led this nation to elect the
first African-American president. I’m not one to challenge it, but I can wonder
if there is more for my race to do. The answer to that is a definite yes.
Picture if you will, a predominately African-American
community with the top schools of the city localized and functioning in it. White
parents are clamoring at the chance to get their kids through the door. Imagine
a society where African-American businesses are flourishing and international
marketers salivate at the opportunity to do business together. In that very
same picture frame, children of color play in a neighborhood not riddled with
rows of countless Baptist churches that are followed by liquor stores. There
are no vacant lots or boarded-up buildings. Gangs are something parents read of
in the latest fiction, and like the conclusion to the creation of all things by
the hands of God – all is good. Nice dream that doesn’t have to be that far
from reality if the communities that are opposite of this vision decide to
claim their own and flourish from the inside out. Will this fix the segregation
problem in our country? No, it will not. There is no fixing it, because it is a
part of America’s DNA. This dream will only exacerbate the problem. What this
dream would do is make the playing field equal. That’s a very Booker T.
Washington assessment I guess, but let’s not be naïve- even in the twenty-first
century, we still live in a society where separate but equal is still the
unwritten law of the land.
Some will misconstrue my words when I write these blogs, but
I am simply calling African Americans to task. Rather than sitting idly by and
waiting for others to intervene in the worst of our communities, it is time to
take ownership and build a more prosperous, safe community for our future – our
Black Future. Expecting politicians
to miraculously pass legislation that will save us and help is a fantasy. While
we should take part in voting, it will not be African Americans saving grace.
Our communities suffer when our institutions of education suffer. Not being
educated is the worst segregation of all. It systematically destroys the will
of a people and divides them from the core outward. In making these statements,
I am not professing that African Americans should unify and build an army to
take down the white man, more less I am saying that we should unify so that we
claim the same amount of respect as another race across the boards.
Why push against the opposition when the answer is smacking
you right in the face?
Take back our identity
and conquer as ONE!
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Saturday, January 10, 2015
I'm blacker than you are.
I have, in my lifetime heard the phrase; I’m blacker than you are, uttered to me
on several occasions. When younger I didn’t think much of it, but as I got
older I began to examine the phrase itself as well as the individuals who would
have the audacity to say such a thing to an African American. I’m – Blacker –
Than – You – Are. It carries a strong context, and whether a joke when muttered
or not, it is a context that is damaging to humanity.
With the hit comedy, Blackish, the creator
proclaims that his efforts are to examine what it means to be black, meanwhile
the show labors on old punch lines that are rooted in stereotypes that do
nothing but distract its intended viewers.
The show centers on a well-to-do family of color. When the
father of the family realizes that his kids have it too good, he stops at
nothing to have his kids connect with their roots. Those roots are peppered
with every cliché associated with African Americans… and this is where the
problem lies.
Often television attempts to tackle the subject of what it
is to be black by fronting a show headlined by the most up-and-coming comedian,
meanwhile the true depth of this question is left uninvestigated and casted
aside for the quick joke. This sad portrayal is nothing new. The joke before
depth has plagued many shows centered around African Americans. One show that
comes to mind is Good Times. Here’s a show that set out to bring a new
perspective to being black while living in the ghetto. While the show went on, the
character JJ Evans, with his jive antics and cartoonish mannerisms became the
central character. The parents, played by respectable actors Esther Rolle and
John Amos, were subjected to being bit players in what was thought to be an
ensemble cast. JJ Evans, played by Jimmie Walker became Good Times’
bread and butter. When this happened, the show automatically suffered.
Shows such as My Wife and Kids and The Hughleys come
to mind as well. Interestingly enough, each of these shows were attempting to
recreate one of the most iconic of shows that portrayed black life with the
utmost of realism, The Cosby Show. Now, I’m not one of those writers who
cringe at the mere inclusion of one Bill Cosby. In spite of the recent
allegations that all but seemed to have derailed this once historic and
inspirational individual, in fact, this current turmoil has only enforced and
heightened my respect for the man. The shows that attempt to tread the waters
of what The Cosby Show produced seem to misinterpret one key element. The
Cosby Show was never about exploration of what it was to be black.
Like his stance with the looming allegations as of late, The
Cosby Show ignored the color of their skin and took the higher road,
exploring the American family. To say you are blacker than someone [else] of
color, is like me saying I am more Asian than an Asian person because I idolize
Bruce Lee and eat with chopsticks everyday. Offensive, isn’t it?
With The Cosby Show several years behind us, the
mainstream media has proceeded with the castration of the African American
identity. African Americans have become the stereotype that has all but ailed
them hundreds of years ago.
In the news, black men are portrayed as criminals lurking in
the shadows, men with no regard for their significant others willing to raise
their hands at them, rappers with constant “beefs”
with other rappers, egomaniacal athletes, a president with no respect for the
constitution attempting to tear down the “foundation”
of America. Black women are portrayed as loud mouth divas caring more about the
Prada bags than the sick image they project onto the next generation. And in
Mr. Cosby’s case, the portrayal of a lifelong rapist – to put it more bluntly, it’s
all a minstrel show.
All of this continues while television as we know it ushers
in its latest example of the black experience with the new show, Empire.
Now, I haven’t yet taken the time to watch Mr. Daniel’s Fox television series,
but I am very aware of its premise. Through questionable means, an African American
builds a music empire, while leaving his closest accomplice – his wife – to
serve time for the years of crime it took to build the empire. Truly compelling television, and to top it off,
I believe the lead character is dying, and he will have to leave the empire to
one of his three sons. Oh the joy. Criminal, check. Music – hip hop and rap,
check. And, another element left to not be truly explored in this particular
blog, the backstabbing within the African American community that hinders us
even more – check!
Race relations in America must be met with a clear understanding
of the races that are affected. Without a clear understanding of all races, the
relationships amongst them will suffer. If the assumptions of a race are
gathered by mere stereotypes, it is a misrepresentation of that said race. Not
knowing what it is to be black creates a vortex of ignorance in our society that
pulsates across the valleys, waters, and lands. Once this misrepresentation
reaches a level that is irreversible, it becomes truth.
When I look back the individuals who have had the gall to
state they are blacker than myself, I am left to examine not only their state
of mind, but also the color of their skin – which in most cases is white. Unfortunately I do not blame them for this
nearsighted point-of-view. They are led to believe that what society dictates
as being black. If one is not willing to seek information about another race
and simply sags his pants, turns his hat sideways, and listens to everything
from Jay Z to Wu Clan and then claims that they are now black, well that’s
their fault.
What’s more damning to me is the fact that African Americans
themselves have adopted this nearsighted view, as well. They, too, have been led
to believe this is a representation of their own selves. If this isn’t true, I
challenge you to drive around a predominantly black community and prove otherwise.
In a recent interview with Oprah, Jay Z claimed that hip-hop has done more for
race relations then that of popular icons. This statement brings a frustrating
tear to my eye. He goes on to say that it’s hard to teach racism when your kid
looks up to Snoop Doggy Dog. Well, by that logic, I guess there is no hope for
African Americans. I guess it’s true; we’d rather line up for the latest pair
of Jordans than line up to cast a vote.
Simply put, expecting the mass media to change the
perspective of African Americans and how they are portrayed in society is a
waste of time! Black, or the black based
on media standards, is profitable, and when money is involved, it’s tough to
expect change. It is up to blacks to take control of their image. It is time to
look at the ghettos and lower district area of cities and prove to mass media
that your image of me is a lie! It is up to us to support each other so that
television and films can portray a more complex image of us that is not layered
with stereotypes.
To all out there who are not Black/African American, you do
not know what it is to be black. You have no idea, nor are you blacker than
myself or any other African American who chooses to listen to Coldplay rather
than Rick Ross. When we wake up and prepare for our day, the person staring
back is a black person no matter their interest, how they dress, the amount of
degrees they have, etc. When we go out into the cold, cruel world, we face the
same battles that any other black man or woman faces. The shadow caused by the
stereotyping of us only makes the battle that much more difficult to overcome.
It is important to understand that African Americans can
reverse the tides of time and develop a more accurate portrayal of their image-
our image. It all starts with the communities that we call home. We have all
heard the phrase, “stereotypes come from
somewhere.” Well, in the black man/woman’s case the stereotyping comes from
years of systematic brainwashing. Our communities do not have to be subjected
to crime and decay. African Americans often want to cast blame rather then take
responsibility. I know that that statement has ruffled a few feathers, but I mean
no offense. To prove that media’s portrayal is a lie, we must take pride in who
we are with knowledge and education of ourselves. Simply wearing a t-shirt with
the words “Black Lives Matter” means
nothing when you are oblivious to why all lives matter, especially black.
When I have to read that 500+ murders took place within one
year in the city of Chicago, mostly in black communities, and no one cries
foul, but a couple of unfortunate individuals’ lives are taken unnecessarily by
white officers, and it’s arms across America, I am offended by my race and our
cause. Black lives do matter, and it matters not whether the life is taken by
the hands of a white police officer or gang of thugs with a pointless agenda.
In both cases, these lives are sadly wasted by the worst weapon of mass
destruction— stereotypes.
I guess the actual question is, which came first, the
chicken or the egg. In broader context, should I magnify my frustration first
on the media or first on the communities that give the image to the media to
exploit? Unfortunately, African Americans live in a vicious cycle where the
mass media’s portrayal fuels the communities and vice versa. In order to stop
this cycle, someone must toss a stick in the middle and bring the cycle to a
screeching halt! It is this writer’s opinion that it should start with mass
media so that a trickle effect occurs. Is that enough? No, but it will get the
ball rolling. Young black boys and girls need to understand that there is more
out there for them than what society offers them. If they live in a community
that is suffering, so will they [suffer]. This sick cycle that I alluded to,
and to quote a musician, is a form of “New
Slave.” We as a people are still tied to a post with a man whipping us
until or backs become black and blue, but the one difference is it’s not only
the white man beating us down – he now has company, and it’s our own selves.
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Thursday, January 1, 2015
The Time Is Now: A New Renaissance
It is important that you do not misconstrue my intent in writing this article. As I sit at home trolling the idiot box, I am bombarded by programming which entails the likes of “Love & Hip Hop,” “The Game,” “For Better or Worse,” etc. The tips of my fingers are stained by the black ink from the daily periodicals I scour in search of a great film not the likes of the latest Kevin Hart, loud-brother-for-hire flick. In this failed attempt to find entertainment with sustainable substance that features people of color, I have realized that the entertainment industry paints an image of black that is only shared by the dollars that they bring in. It would appear that African Americans have sold their image for profit. Meanwhile, the integrity of the Black culture is raped of its once profound voice.
I often think back to times when there were great scholars, lawyers, doctors, activists and artists that were hailed to the highest of regards in the black neighborhoods. Their message tore down walls and soared across valleys and rivers, causing ripples in the fabric of the American establishment. I recall the times of The Harlem Renaissance, MLK, Malcolm X, Mohammad Ali, Booker T. Washington – I could go on and on. This was a time when African Americans took it upon themselves to dictate their future, and by doing so, they shaped their own identities. Now those efforts have all but been forgotten, left to wallow and disappear in the pages of tarnished history books that aren’t brought out until the first of February when it’s okay to care about the black man and learn why we are more than just NIGGERS. Meanwhile, our youth is left to lay praise on false idols and gods that only evolve around that of sports, music, and comedy. This isn’t to say that there isn’t representation of greatest, only these individuals are not showcased as prominently.
If you will, please allow me to explain why I am writing this. My name is Todd Webb, and I am a filmmaker in New Orleans, La. Like so many hopeful people who once lived in Los Angeles- ‘The City of Angels-’ I fantasized about the day when I could create films and television that moved, inspired, and yes, entertained the world. Having recently relocated to New Orleans, this fantasy still remains a lifelong goal that sometimes appears to be a dream drifting so far away.
With these fading hopes and dreams, I have come to a sad conclusion that even in the 21st century— where a man of color roams the halls of the White House, where an African-American weather woman from the south can go from engaging talk-show host to a billionaire entertainment conglomerate— even in this time when it would seem that equality for all, no matter race or creed, has finally emerged over the mountain tops; sadly, African-Americans around the great United States still struggle with battling an inaccurate and unrealistic representation of their identity. This misrepresentation has directly affected the status of the African American in United States, adding to current problems that plague the black community even to this day. Examples such as Michael Brown and Eric Garner have fueled the flames of stereotyping in our country, and while anger is warranted, the direction this anger is pointed in is as misdirected as that of the misrepresentation/stereotyping that led to these individuals’ deaths.
The voice of the African-American and their identity has been shaped, molded, and designed by century-old tactics of brainwashing, a dangerous misinterpretation of religion, our government, and that of the media. This false perception of the African-American has been in development for hundreds of years, starting with— of course— slavery, and it has trickled down through every century that follows thereafter being passed from generation to generation. To quote one Willie Lynch, “…it will control slaves for 300 hundreds years.”
African Americans have lost control of their identity – their image. Instead, we have sat on the sidelines, becoming victims of a vicious and malicious act of character assassination. In our communities, on television, in the news, and even in politics, we have become caricatures of ourselves. Centuries of struggling, fighting, praying, and dying have been all but bound under a new form of bondage that has pulled the wool over the eyes of the African American and people in general.
The bondage that wraps around the worn wrist of African-Americans today is the false assumption of success. It is that very success that divides our communities to this day. In times that have become ever so cynical, the almighty dollar has become one’s only salvation. While the few that have crawled out of the cockles of ghettos and rundown dwellings have emerged as powerful— dare I say— role models, these very ‘so called’ role models cater to that of the very stereotype that Willie Lynch spoke so candidly about more than several hundred years ago. In some respects, this form of profiting based on this manufactured image of what it is to be black has inadvertently led to the deaths of Michael Brown, Eric Garner, and so many others.
Unfortunately, African-Americans have adopted this false perception and claimed it as their own, rebranding it as ‘the black experience.’ Insight into the black experience should be reported and documented as that of any human experience, be it race, creed, or sexuality. Our human experiences are no different from the other. Our everyday stories share a DNA that is the same. This false perception of the black experience is a sick example of the human conditioning manipulated and used in an effort to program and redirect one’s own history. The identity of the African-American has now become lost in a vortex of stereotypes. These very stereotypes plague our music, art, sports, and characters that are portrayed on television, as well as in film. These images are later pumped into the community, and people have adopted these heinous portrayals as factual. While we as a people tend to find humor in these revelations or truths, the time for laughter is over. The time is now to combat these stereotypes and reshape, redesign, and remold our own representation of the human experience from the perspective of the African-American. It is time to usher in a NEW RENAISSANCE led by individuals of prominence, not dictated by that of shear wealth, but intelligence and an unwavering commitment to see African Americans rise from the ashes of their current existence like the Phoenix and shed every sad stereotype that has since been synonymous to our image.
As previously stated, I am a filmmaker, however it should be noted that I am a struggling filmmaker. For the better part of a year and a half, I have been developing a television series that shares a liking to that of “Mad Men” and “Breaking Bad.” Why these two shows? They have been anointed with that of the ‘it factor.’ My television series, “Colored,” should be shared in the same breath as these shows.
“Colored” follows the trials and tribulations of the Porter Family as they come to grips with the changing world around them during the late 1950s. They are at the center of controversy as they embark upon being the first family of color to live in the fictitious suburban neighborhood of Willoughby, IL.
While the series is titled, “Colored,” and it is set during a time of much turmoil regarding the treatment of African Americans, as well as their lack of rights within the United States, make no mistake, this series examines that of the American family and its dysfunction. Of course the series does not ignore the plight of the African American, but the show hinges on the notion of at what cost will one man take to strive for greatness (the false assumption of success).
Upon further examination, this series takes a deep and unapologetic look at how African Americans can be used, manipulated, and trained, even when on the surface, there appears to be some level of prosperity. "Colored' will draw distinct parallels to the issues that the African-American community and families face currently today as well as throughout history.
My efforts to see this show come to life have been meet with fleeting fanfare. While I understand the subject matter of race in America doesn’t carry the sex appeal of Don Draper and his latest fling or the suspense of Walter White and his free fall into meth crime lord, “Colored” tears down the veil that has been blinding not only African Americans, but people and their understanding of what it is to be black.
My initial thought, when seeking funding for this project, was to direct my attention to African Americans who felt the same way as I did. When meeting people and talking with them about the project, it was clear that some— in fact, many— shared in the continuous outrage felt when a new show like “Empire” can receive a green light from Hollywood, but “Colored” is left in the cold, partly because it doesn’t sell to the hip hop, bling-bling culture controlled by the image raping masters that sit at most of the boardrooms in Tinseltown. While like-minded in thoughts, this same support was not met with financial means, more or less the response was, “I dig what you are doing, and I will definitely give a few dollars to the Kickstarter,” or “Man, that’s a really deep concept. I would help, but…”
Ladies and gentlemen, for every “Olivia Pope,” there is a continuous effort by the powers that be to keep us categorized as NIGGERS.
“Colored” will find an audience and become a reality. People who we admire often tell us to never give up, and I refuse to do so. I refuse to give up on my goals. I refuse to give up on the dream that Martin Luther King was killed fighting for. I refuse to give up on the African American community. The rise of a new renaissance is inevitable. The time is now. To people of color that stretch across this globe, “Be the change in which you seek,” and always remember, “You are nothing as long as nothing is on your mind.”
Happy New Year and best of wishes to all in 2015,
Todd M. Webb
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Todd Webb
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