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 8^th 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!

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.