Last Saturday night, in the Brownsville section of Brooklyn, yet another young Black father, brother, son and friend lost their lives to another senseless act of gun violence. Now while I didn’t know this young brother personally, being a resident of this community, I know these stories all too well.
Let me just say that I am here for all of this: Black boys as kings, Black men showing love to Black boys (hell, just having Black men in education because unfortunately, it’s more likely to find Black unicorns than Black male teachers.) So everything in my mind is saying this is dope. This is for us by us.
But here’s one of my issues…
I hope you see the value of solidarity in tumultuous times like these. Meek isn’t the perfect victim, but often times young men of color never are but honestly people, WE ALL WE GOT!
White male teacher yell the following at a Black, male student:
“Something is wrong with you. You are mentally ill. Are you retarded?”
Rewind to July of 2013. I went out to eat with one of my best friends and we discussed the Trayvon Martin murder, the devastating verdict and all the ways in which black males are suspected, criminalized and executed in this country, all in a matter of seconds. He agreed immediately when I said that my biggest fear (besides cancer) was raising a black son in this country. I said that I would be devastated and during dinner, I proceeded to word-vomit all of the ways I would have to teach my hypothetical son to navigate a dangerous world that didn’t see him unless it saw him as a threat.
Reading back over my piece, I was like “this is cool, but damn if it ain’t shallow”.
So I’ll reiterate: BLACK MEN NEED TO MAKE BLACK WOMEN FEEL SAFE (I won’t say again because it’s questionable when’s the last time we actually did it.)
We Black men like to scream Black pride but will turn around and attack our Black Queens, or talk down our Black sisters for their sexual identities.Talk about cognitive dissonance.
Shit most young men don’t even want to endure the stress and danger that comes with the hustle, as much as they want to do whatever they can to not be without. Without proper living situations, the latest luxuries, good food on our tables; we just don’t want to go without the many things society denies black youth just based on our skin color and social status.
At some point in this process the smart hustlers in the drug game realize that it is in fact a business guided by the same principles of economics (supply and demand) and then they realize not only how to be great in that lane; but more so how to apply that business mentality to legitimate ventures.