That little scene pops into my head every now and again. It is something that I have been accused of on a few occasions, "not being a brother". So here in Black History Month I wanted to take the opportunity to revisit the innuendo and insinuations that statement made. I might start by saying there was a time when I was mortally embarrassed by the antics of black folk who were not reared with the same middle class values and comportment I had been subject to. I really did not come into contact with these black folk until we had returned from Germany in 1983. If this language reflects a degree of separateness, it is intended, for that is how I felt, separated and cut-off from lower income blacks. They behaved abominably, often loud and raucous with no regard for decorum and they hopelessly flaunted their ignorance. Here I am making a connection between low income, low standards, and low quality. Forgive me for submitting to stereotypes, but stereotypes do contact a grain of truth to them. I had cousins who acted this way and was confused. My mother grew up in the same family my aunts did. Yet my mother always maintained a clean home, taught her children values and decorum as well as manners. Why some of my cousins did not have them was always a mystery to me.
One of the effects of military life in Germany, since we were basically isolated in the midst of the Germans, was there was an equalizing force of some kind at work. We were all the same in Germany, all Americans living in the presence of Germans. There was some sense of class as far as the officers and their kids were concerned because the housing areas were based on rank. But in school I was friends with fellow non-commissioned officer's children as well as officer's children and the children of civilian personnel, such as teachers (whose status was just above non-commissioned officers and just below officers). When we returned to the US and I was signing in to my new school, my step-father commented at how raw and unruly the school was and even hinted that they might consider placing me in a private school. While looking for housing off base in NJ, we came to a minority area. I distinctly remember my parents being put off. We eventually settled into military housing.
I did not understand why some black folk acted the way they did given my upbringing and environment. My first initiation came as a result of a cover article in Newsweek, I believe in the 1990s. The cover was of Nefertiti and a series of articles followed on Afrocentrism, a word I was completely ignorant of. That article changed my black life! Replete with accomplishments and history of black folk that were not offered in grade or high school it gave me a faith and hope in black people that I cannot explain. No longer was I ashamed of being black, the progeny of slaves, an associate of welfare queens and drug dealers and the same color as thugs and neck-twisting black girls. For some reason I realized for the first time in my life that black is not homogeneous anymore than any other race or ethnic group is. We are heterogeneous; we exist along a broad spectrum of color, attitude, and disposition, class and distinction, etc. My new attitude allowed me to be aware of this spectrum and absorb it in such a way that I could identify with all my black brethren.
We call each other "brother" and "sister" because we are united in the suffering and oppression, economic, social and political that we have experienced in this country. America is our parent having abducted us and reared us from birth, though refusing to nurse us. But she adjusted her attitude to place us along side the rest of her children. Folks are often unified by their experiences, experiences that can cross all manner of boundaries. Unfortunately those experiences are often the offspring of suffering and devastation, the like that accompanies riot and war. Only then do we come together and overlook class and distinction.
Truth be told, I am a brother! Truth be told, Condoleeza Rice is a sister! Truth be told, the drug dealer on the corner and the "welfare queen" in the projects, are brothers and sisters, too. Black folk have been stripped of the customs and corollary attitudes that made the African village a community.
Our long, three plus century sojourn here has suppressed the African sentiments that united groups in the motherland. We have divided ourselves and turned against one another. We are all Black, Afro-American, if you will. We are thugs and drug dealers; we are scientists and educators; we are politicians and entertainers; we are criminals, we are lawyers, we are CEOs and CFOs
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