Author, Ernie McCray, at left; Nancy Robertson, second from left; Angela Davis on the right.
By Ernie McCray
The madness in Charleston, to me, is so much deja vu because blacks being shot or bombed where they worship and pray is not something that’s new here in the USA.
In no way. These atrocities started, practically, when they shoved us off the ships to pick cotton, way, way back in the day.
And where’s a good place to find a lot of us to slay? Church. Makes sense to a hateful evil-minded KKK kind of person who all of a sudden, out of his madness, just can’t stand to see a Negro alive.
So he decides to mosey on down to where we’re on our knees filled with the Holy Ghost, feeling joy and hope, our bodies and souls moving to gospel songs that tell the story of power and glory, in their tone, in their very beat and tempo, in their drive, in their nuances… Our burdens are eased, if for just a little while…
“BOOM!!!” …
Nine fewer black people in the world…
And we just step on, as a nation, after these tragedies, dismissing them, basically, as more or less “unfortunate incidents” when we all know that they’re “racist incidents.”
When will we Americans ever sit down together or stand up together and acknowledge that racism has always and continues to deprive us of becoming our better selves – and get rid of it?
Oh, I know: “we don’t see color.” And this begs me to ask if we don’t see color how is it that we do see the plight of black people as the “The black problem” and, on top of that, we leave “The black problem” to be solved by just black people and, on top of that, we go on and on in social media and at Happy Hour about how black people aren’t doing enough to solve “The black problem.” We see what we want to see, don’t we?
Well, to set the record straight, working on “The black problem” is pretty much all some of us do, in one form or another. Going back centuries. Alongside allies of all colors and creeds, loving human beings who see “The black problem” for what it is: The American problem. A colossal problem at that.
And to mention a brother who has worked on “The black problem” for a very long time, I had the privilege, at a Pillars of the Community San Diego gathering not too long ago, of kicking back and listening to Elbert “Big Man” Howard – one of the founding fathers of the Black Panther Party.
As he spoke I couldn’t help but reminisce about those days back in the 60’s and 70’s. I was in my 20’s and my 30’s then, stepping tall, full of life, still could play a little ball, trying to make sense out of my world.
I was fully in tune with what was going on and nobody captured my attention more than the Black Panther Party. They role modeled what making the world better for all people is all about. In a spirit of unadulterated love.
They lead rent strikes; hipped their community to politics and economics; stood with Cesar; fed children breakfast and distributed clothes to the poor; tested people for sickle cell disease; taught first aid and self-defense; created schools designed to liberate a human being’s body and soul; took care of the elderly; set up medical clinics that were free and emergency-response ambulance programs and drug and alcohol rehabilitation programs; transported families to visit their loved ones in prison.
They were as James Brown would say, “doing the do” with respect to addressing “The black problem.”
But here’s one of the ugliest truths I know: throughout our country’s history, whenever the powers-that-be get wind that black people are trying to better themselves – aka “something’s up” – they set out to destroy whatever that something is.
That’s to say that from the time the Black Panther Party called themselves such, Uncle Sam was there to put his touch on things.
J. Edgar Hoover, Mr. FBI, was up to his old tricks like when he tried to sabotage Martin and the “The Great Civil Rights Movement.”
His COINTELPRO pros worked non-stop, with all kind of money and resources at their disposal, to discredit, “by any means necessary” all the good work the Party was doing.
I couldn’t help, as I listened to “Big Man,” reflecting on the behavior of San Diego’s “Red Squad” back in those days. They knew how to divide and conquer with the best of them, pitting the local Black Panthers against another organization, stirring up raw emotions and tempers with their underground expertise.
Based on some of the clever devious lies these spies devised, homes were shot into; doors were knocked down and people beaten; a man was killed; lives were tattered; hopes and dreams were stilled.
Angela Davis was in San Diego during some of those days, studying at UCSD, helping local activists look for answers to “The black problem” in our communities. And in swoops Governor Ronald Reagan like a bird of prey, bearing its talons, tearing at this brilliant woman’s left-leaning-radical-
I look at Angela in a picture, from the 80’s, standing across from me, with my beautiful Nancy standing next to me and a woman, I vaguely remember, standing next to her. We were addressing, what else, “TBP.”
Here I am, still at it, along with others throughout our country, trying to assume some degree of responsibility for racism’s demise.
If more people, no matter their color, joined the struggle I’d like to think that “The black problem” would disappear in the winds of such social change, rendering confederate flags and the like, some day, as just reminders of when we didn’t have it together and then decided to finally seriously create a society wherein everyone had a reasonable opportunity to live with dignity.
When you’ve dealt with “The black problem” as long as I have you can’t help but think that way.
Meanwhile, may my beloved departed brothers and sisters in Charleston Rest in Peace.
Ernie McCray
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It’s so damned tough to get to new and higher ground, and you offered a few steps toward it with your piece on Our Black Problem, Ernie.
That phrase, “The Black Problem,” penetrates all the way into this country’s systematic failure to face injustice and call it what it is. Even lately, even after the Charleston gore was spread over us in prime time, we don’t hear big media referring to a “White Problem.” In our official representations of who we are as a nation, there can be no such thing as a White Problem.
A less outrageous bit of avoidance (but just as maddening) is handed down into mainstream thought when big media experts begin to offer fake concerns about the difference between terrorism and hate crimes, and about whether gun control is the answer, and then the NRA loyalists can answer that fewer AME churchgoers would be dead if they’d had guns to fight back with… and that pastor Clementa Pinckney should be held responsible for his own death… All the good and righteous outrage of real people begins to leak away in favor of reasonable, fair and just, debate. Today’s question: Was it terrorism or the result of a White Problem masquerading as mental illness?
Right On! i too was under surveillance by the FBI for being a Black Militant back in the day and i was able to get copy of my FBI file.
My cousin was ‘drafted’ by the FBI to spy on black panthers and activists at UCSD. They knew everything about her and had done a real thorough job on her background stuff. However, she was always a liberal even though her parents were not. They didn’t know that. So they picked the wrong person to do their dirty work for them! She refused them and told them to climb a rope!
Did you all know about this BS going on in the 60s?
Right on, Ernie! I can identify with what you say about too few white folks being concerned enough to do anything about “The Black Problem.” Economically, most Black people in this country are still far behind most white people, in every economic index created. That we still have a great many holdovers from our slavery and post slavery days, like this confederate flag, is a disgrace. Hopefully, this atrocious incident will awaken the consciousness of enough of us to actually do something to address “The Black Problem.”
HI ERNIE: What a great post. The times you recalled are very special to me too. At this moment, as I plunk on my keyboard, I have evolved to the place I can see no solution to “The Problem” in the USA. The one thing you and I have in common is our previous experiences providing us with knowledge to understand how to be Black and White too. I am following a strong impulse to share the following rather lengthy remarks in response to your stimulating remarks. During the days gone by you reference, I taught at Mission Bay and San Diego High Schools and had the wisdom and understanding (like you), to motivate and inspire both White, Black and Brown students. I must confess, as well as I was able to effectively interact with folks of all ages and skin colors, I was stunned by the reactions I stirred up. While the evils of both overt and covert racism cut short my efforts as an outstanding high school teacher and promising professional baseball umpire, in just a short period of time, I was able to resurface as a faculty member in the physical education department at UCSD, just months after Angela Davis impacted affirmative changes on the campus. With only a bachelor’s degree in my pocket, I amazingly joined the UC campus and was able to work the systematic process for achieving success within the walls of higher education, which included creative classroom pursuits and strong professional and community services. Thanks to this approach, I gained emeritus status after 21 years of achieving high quality academic endeavors. The sadness in the madness has been the inability of ebon-hued academic administrators to accept the creative and stimulating nature of my talents, both in San Diego and Arkansas. Over the past two decades, I have endured the close minded, jealous and ignorant ways of my own people, and now understand the only person I can really depend on to serve my needs is me! I have to admit my wife (Edna) has assisted me in advancing to this point. I am on the threshold of another exciting chapter in the Hubba Jubba success saga, as I await the publication of a book sharing a literary awareness of my life’s passion for sharing enthusiasm and promoting hearty laffter. I have pursued and the joys they have provided for me and those I have been able to influence. Looking back across the years, I am touched by a remark you mentioned above and a line from an all-student assembly made at San Diego HS back in 1969. These brief lines include yours: ” … deep as the ocean and vast as the sky.” How poetic is that? The line in the SDHS play focused upon a new force in the early affirmative action era: “We are finally forcing the friendly fakers to show their hands.” And in closing. I have always sought inspiration and guidance from these words off of the ebon-hued lips of a few past Black gibraltars: MARCUS GARVEY:”The Race needs workers at this time, not plagiarists, copyist and mere imitators; but men and women who are able to create, to originate and improve, and thus make an independent racial contribution to the world civilization.” ANCIENT ANONYMOUS AFRICAN PROVERB: “The creative pioneer is worth more than silver or gold.” ALFREDIA SMITH: “We cannot continue to adhere ourselves to the falling of empires, our talents are too valuable.” CHARLES THOMAS: “We talk about Black communion and the community of soul, shared experiences and awareness. We have a new image of ourselves and of man.” LANGSTON HUGHES; (from his poem Mother to Son: “And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.”
Hey, my grandfather would say something like “Look here, boy, all you can do is get up everyday and chunk rocks at it.” So, we truck on, my brother. Love you.
I served with a woman in the Assembly who came to San Diego from Los Angeles in the late 70s, and became involved with the anti-war movement. Soon, FBI were visiting her workplace “just to ask her questions” about what she was doing with “known” troublemakers, making sure her employers saw her being questioned.
She lost her job, but continued her participation in various activities.
Finally, she was in a home that was shot into by “persons unknown,” injuring an acquaintance. That was it: she left San Diego, and it’s difficult for her to return here even today, even when her job requires it.
The woman: former Assembly Speaker Karen Bass, now serving in the US House of Representatives.