Guest columnists
'Be light to ourselves': Black America must look inward for solutions

By Aaron Counts and Larry Evans
Special to The Times

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Over the course of the recent presidential campaign, we saw how each candidate tried to ingratiate himself with various voting groups. And while NASCAR dads and Latinos were a big focus this year, we continue to witness each major election year the efforts that the parties make to court the black vote.

It's less a wooing than a predictable arrangement, as office-seekers vie for the endorsement of one African-American organization or another by snuggling up to the heads of these groups.

A system of artificial leadership is thus perpetuated at the expense of the collective of black Americans, many of whom occupy the bottom rungs of America's socioeconomic ladder.

Rather than propping up a few individuals as leaders, a better plan may be to instill self-determination and cultural grounding in all black Americans.

Recently, syndicated columnist Clarence Page lamented, "Sometimes I feel as though we African Americans have been wandering through the wilderness for 40 years like the ancient children of Israel, searching for a new agenda."

The agenda he spoke of is an all-inclusive plan of action that characterized the success of the early civil-rights movement. That period should have marked the beginning of a new era of healing, self-definition and responsibility; instead, it may have represented our pinnacle of progress to date.

During that time, black Americans were bonded by shared geography and economy, and stood as a united front on political and social issues such as voting rights, quality education and an end to Jim Crow laws.

Near the end of that era, with the murders of Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X, and the collapse — with the government's help — of some of the more progressive civil-rights groups, a new generation of leaders emerged to define the agenda for black people. The issues they identified included increasing representation in corporations and universities, backing political candidates, and improving the ability of blacks to achieve portions of the American dream through entrepreneurship and home ownership in particular neighborhoods.

The emphasis on these goals fueled the growth of the black middle class, and the community loosened its bonds of shared geography, economy and politics. A unified agenda could no longer be put forward, nor could a handful of men and women be selected to promote it. Yet, leaders continue to be anointed.

This dynamic of black leadership has very little to do with black people. In conversations with black family members or friends, you will rarely hear anyone speak of our "leaders." It is usually the media that bestow that title — though the news story that includes comments from a "white community leader" has yet to be filed.

Underlying these stories about black leaders is the idea the black Americans are a people who need to be led, perpetuating the idea that we are less capable of thinking and acting for ourselves than members of other ethnic or racial groups, and that we can be placated simply by corporate heads and politicians cozying up to select individuals.

Such relationships fuel a "black leadership industry," a corporate model of activism in which individuals compete in order to work their way up the organizational structure of various agencies. The competition skews the issues. Disproportional imprisonment rates, black-on-black crime and violence, educational inequities, destruction of black self-identity and the plight of impoverished blacks are overshadowed by low-risk/high-profile issues such as the fight over the Confederate flag or demanding more representation of blacks in the media. These issues neither directly serve the people, nor do they offend corporate benefactors or the political establishment.

Conspicuously absent from this agenda is a program of healing. Based on studies from the National Center for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, psychologist Omar G. Reid, of Pyramid Builders Associates in Massachusetts, has asserted that current conditions of many black Americans are linked to the long-term effects of slavery — a newly identified form of post-traumatic stress disorder.

These effects do not stem only from the direct trauma associated with being enslaved, but also from the lack of a centuries-old connection with a homeland; something that can be taken for granted — unless one is without it. A cultural connection provides grounding, strength and self-definition that can offset the damage done by external oppression.

While others have faced forms of oppression in America, one only needs to witness the progress made by Asian, Latino and African immigrants and refugees to see startling differences in economic development and community-building when compared with black Americans. The primary, yet routinely overlooked, difference appears to be a long, nurturing sense of self, provided through an inherent cultural grounding.

Pointing out this uniquely black American phenomenon is not to excuse current behaviors due to a difficult past, because if a true leader were to emerge, she or he would do well to begin anew under the theme of personal responsibility. Individual responsibility becomes a collective strength, as much a part of the group dynamic as language, religion, values and other customs. Each person defining his or her own healing process is the first step in assuming that responsibility, like diagnosing an ill in order to find its appropriate treatment.

Actor Bill Cosby has spoken out about this recently, and his comments have generated widespread attention. While we can debate the spirit in which the comments were made and the class chasm that exists between Cosby and the people he criticized, there has been diverse support for varied interpretations of his comments, from black news columnists to liberal political organizations to racist white-power groups. Cos asked us to take responsibility for ourselves, and a sigh of "it's about time" could almost be heard seeping out from under closed doors.

Cosby aired in public a debate that has gone on behind closed doors for some time. Most often, as in Cosby's case, the debate begins and ends with criticism and blame — far short of identifying any real cause or solution. Rarely has anyone identified a distorted sense of culture as the real problem.

It appears that a paradigm shift is in order.

Under the theme of personal and community responsibility, we have undertaken in the Seattle area weekly gatherings and outreach to black men in search of discussion, support and plans of action, with participants ranging from adolescents to elders. We've found that in our efforts — topics and strategies range from redefining education to defining black manhood, from employment counseling and parenting to issues of racial and social justice — a process of healing has already begun to take place. Rather than following the old model of pointing the finger at the source of our ills, we look inward for solutions.

As the philosopher Jiddu Khrishanmurti wrote, "We must be light to ourselves in an ever darkening world." We have adopted the philosophy that we are largely powerless to change those systems — educational, economic and legal — that have traditionally trapped us, and we can't rely on those systems to work on our behalf.

Fifty years after Brown v. Board of Education, the public school system continues to fail our students, with stark racial disparities seen in honors classes, special education, discipline and achievement.

Despite the success of the black middle class, the collective net worth of black America remains unchanged in the past 100 years.

Incarceration rates for black men are at all-time highs. While King County — officially named after Martin Luther King Jr. — is roughly 5 percent black, on any given day over 40 percent of those incarcerated in King County are black. Such disproportionality is an unworthy legacy of Dr. King's name, yet in a region touting its progressive practices, there is no government agency, social-service program or community organization successfully addressing this disturbing reality.

The time for courageous action to facilitate our own healing is now. Rather than blaming these systems, though they may be largely culpable for our current conditions, we can change our reactions to them. We can work to understand them in order to navigate them; we can hold them accountable to the high standards we set for ourselves. While understanding that much of what happens in life is beyond our control, our values, self-identity and actions are not.

Black Americans can ill-afford to allow a vague notion of political correctness to deter us from the frank conversations and subsequent actions that will help us collectively heal our painful past. Longstanding fears of what other ethnic or racial groups may think of our admissions dissipate in this theme of self-responsibility. True allies will acknowledge the trauma and subsequent healing right along with us. Once we address that healing, we will be more equipped to create solutions to our own ills.

The answers seem obvious, though not easy. Are we up for the challenge?

Larry Evans, left, has been a counselor, coach and mentor to many African-American males. E-mail him at LGETruth@aol.com.

Aaron Counts, right, is a poet, educator and founding editor of Unblind Communications, publishers of the urban literary journal "Word is Bond." He can be reached at unblindeye@yahoo.com