History is not Black and White


As I write these thoughts, I realize that February has ostensibly become the cursory "celebration" of the contributions of Americans who happen to be black.  At best, knowledge of the legion of inventions and contributions by black scientists, astronauts, military generals, pilots, politicians, Fortune 500 CEOs, musicians, civil rights activists, engineers, doctors, entrepreneurs, attorneys, educators, inventors, writers and the perfunctory athletes and entertainers is a malingering subtext in the minds of the vast majority of Americans.  Ironically, a profound sense of sadness often accompanies this celebration of AMERICAN history because it has been relegated to the dust bins of cultural minutiae or trivia like the vast majority of programming that oozes from cable channels.

The narratives of people of color interwoven into the broader context of the jingoistic version of the shaping of this democracy are dissonant and incongruent with the goose-bumpey versions accompanied with a crescendoing rendition of "America the Beautiful" in the background.  Our place in the American tapestry from 1619 to 1865 soils the pages of the first primers issued to students with the indelible stain, stench and bastardization of the truths held to be self evident.  The Great Sin that irrefutably served as the de facto economic engine to usher in the Industrial Revolution and elevate the fledgling 13 colonies into a global economic power is an inextricable part of the history of black folks whether they choose to be identified as African American or not.

The zeitgeist that germinated the seeds of Trumpism finds the unpacking of this dolorous, multi-century chapter of moral depravity, ambiguity, ambivalence and impropriety unpalatable.  What we are essentially encouraged to do is engage in revisionist renderings of the antebellum South and re-purpose chattel slavery as indentured servitude gone wrong.  The arrested development of the Diaspora, the socioeconomic disparity and the endemic challenges seemingly domiciled within the communities formed as derivatives of Jim Crow, gerrymandering, and redlining are all fake news or more derisively a perennial playing of the race card to elevate the victim culture to an existential state of being.

In the state of Florida, there is a statutory requirement that Black History be taught as part of the schools' history courses.  In the month of February, my 10th grader's school opts to teach on the Jewish Holocaust- a popular theme because it is not a domestic tragedy.  The Native American holocaust ( 10-15 million Native Americans that occupied their indigenous territories were reduced by 90 percent); a byproduct of encroachment, removal, war and disease doesn't manage to warrant a blurb and the 10 or more million Africans that died in the trans-Atlantic slave trade during the middle passage requires a forensic search on Google because it "ain't being taught in "nam" classroom in the capital city.

The largest group of forced immigrants in this country have been loyal, patriotic and incalculably contributory for the entirety of their existence in this great nation.  The great tragedy of the yet unrealized dream of Dr. Carter G. Woodson in instituting the promulgation of black history as more than a subtext of American history is that the vast majority of citizens will never fully understand how much black lives have mattered in the development of this nation's wealth and global stature.

                                                                    Double Standard ?

On the morning of Superbowl 52, Edwin Jackson, a linebacker for the Indianapolis Colts, was killed by a drunk drinker who struck the Uber driver's car he had taken.  Unfortunately, outside of the pseudo-celebrity of being a professional football player, this tragedy would not warrant an expanded space in the bandwidth of incessant bad news that seems to clog the airwaves of almost every major network in this country.  However, this story will be re-purposed into a dystopic diatribe rife with xenophobia, nationalism and an unsavory mix of growing anti-immigrant sentiment fueled by an America First mantra that wreaks of a kind of stench directed at far too many people that don't fit the profile of the picture featured in this blog.

Every year tens of thousands of people lose their lives because good ol' American citizens get behind the wheel of a car after drinking well beyond the limits of sobriety.  Our obsession with spirits, brews, and wine has us consuming them by the millions of gallons and despite their capacity to create chemical dependence and absolutely destroy personal health and households, they are marketed with a fervor second to none.  There is nothing intrinsically evil about adult libations. Every beer commercial comes with a disclaimer to "drink responsibly" yet the built in fatality model of alcohol-related deaths associated with car crashes is kind of a given in our culture.

I am highlighting the death of Edwin Jackson by a twice-deported Guatemalan as a flash point that will be toxically politicized at the expense of a far less popular reality-death by flag-waving, stand for the National Anthem, card-carrying NRA member Americans.

James Alexis Fields, whose mugshot I feature, deliberately ran over Heather Hyer at a rally in the polemic gathering of "alt-right and "alt-left' advocates in Charlottesville.  American Naval Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry is credited with the phrase, " We have met the enemy and they are ours." America has a disdainful history of singling out the segment of its population that they believe is the source of all its societal ills.  Yet when mass murders, gross violations of the Geneva Conventions, Wall Street pilfering, industrial-scale fraud in Washington and a smorgasbord of other malfeasance is committed by Opie Taylor, there is no national outcry to form internment camps, deport or ostracize a demographic that occupies every seat of power in this country.  Our hubris, our narcissism, our rank hypocrisy makes these impassioned cries to " get them ( illegal immigrants) outta here" ring hollow.  There is an innate tone deafness when it comes to the face of criminality
in America.

Don't worry, many people are not buying the double standard!

                                                               The Religion of Sports



Two of the world's largest practiced religions have pilgrimages that reflect the sacrality of those that follow them.  For Muslims it's Mecca and for Christians it is Jerusalem.  While the United States markets itself as a Christian nation with everything from megachurches to 5 member storefronts, the single largest religious gathering in this protestant nation occurs ever year in either late January or early February-formally known as the Superbowl.

The cathedrals of this denomination are massive, city funded architectural marvels reminiscent of the temple of Solomon.  Your patronage ( tithes, offerings- read ticket price) determines how close you get to fellowship near the Holy of Holies, the resplendent artificial turf or natural grass in which the church leaders, I mean, football coaches and their disciples gather to sacrifice life and limb for a coveted touchdown followed by ecstatic shouts of glory by the congregation, I mean fans.  This sacrament is broadcast for the world to see and the fervor displayed by the attendees is something reminiscent of the day of Pentecost when the licks of fire appeared over the disciples' heads as evidence of the Holy Spirit's presence.

If you think about it, these secular pilgrims spend about as much time, same day of the week, as the religious folks in their respective places of worship.  If the sacred folks go each weekend for 2 hours( if you live below the Mason-Dixon line and are Pentecostal add at LEAST another hour) that 's approximately 104 hours a year gathered for worship/ fellowship.  NFLism, not to be confused with Pentecostalism or Methodism, is a hybrid of idol worship and pantheism, convenes for four months out of the year, 16 weekends at about four hours per gathering.  If you include the tailgating, a last supper if you will of  grilled beef, chicken and enormous amounts of adult libations before the worship service then the total amount of hours easily jumps to 192! ( 12 hours : 8 tailgating + 4 at the game X 16).

Unlike your conventional church service, the congregation is loud for the entire time they are gathered except for the national anthem ( kneeling is NOT an option). Offering is gathered online with a few industrious members (scalpers) offering "discounts" for those who chose not to render their first fruits the old-fashioned way.  The praise and worship dancers (cheerleaders) for these massive gatherings nix the frumpy stuff and hop around the sidelines, just near the inner courts, shaking what their "mama" or a skilled plastic surgeon gave them.  The fans root for what I like to call the disciples minus one.  Two teams of eleven men ( offense and defense) who themselves are deified through stats, ESPN highlights, jersey sales and for a select few, Hall of Fame induction as they defy the laws of physics with Herculean feats of strength, acrobatic catches and Olympic-caliber speed all the while possibly worrying if the compilation of their collisions will leave them with calcified deposits of plaque in their brain in the future.

You are inclined to hear quite a few congregants speaking in "tongues" ( read cuss) if their team begins to perform poorly and their consumption of spirits has gone beyond the FDA recommendations.  Unlike Mecca and Jerusalem, the Superbowl is transient with the host city feeling like it won a lottery to allow all of the family friendly and adult entertainment that accompany it to engorge its coffers with stacks of cash. You can see an equally commercialized but uncompensated disciple version of this fanfare at the NCAA football national championship which happens to now feature a program that folks in the state of Alabama would struggle to determine if their allegiance to it is greater than their local church!

So, don't get it twisted regarding what you will be watching this Sunday; a day that is a de facto national and religious holiday.  If you don't believe me, monitor the church attendance on Sunday if the Super Bowl happened to be broadcast around noon!  Dilly, dilly!

                                                             The Mystery of "Poverty"

This post is going to be a departure from the social commentary I normal give voice to.  As I write this, world leaders, captains of industry, scientists, celebrities and plain ol" rich people are convening in Davos Switzerland,- the highest city in Europe based on elevation- at the World Economic Forum to talk about their"commitment to improve the world."  In an Age where people can't seem to engage in civil discourse organically or digitally, this decades-old effort to facilitate the meeting of the minds of the people who by some accounts can ostensibly unfracture a global community separated by a smorgasbord of ideologies, theories and customs is noble. In the meantime, billions of people are still living on the margins as trillions of dollars in assets, resources and innovations are rapidly changing the way the average person lives.

Phillip Alston, a United Nations Special Rapporteur who visited several parts of the country recently published a statement on extreme poverty in the United States of America. Part of his information was gathered from the US Census Bureau using a metric called the Official Poverty Measure (OPM).  The report disclosed that in September 2017, more than one in every eight Americans were living in poverty( approx. 40 million) and almost half of them were living in deep poverty with reported income below half of the poverty threshold.  I keep wondering why I can't just flush the image of the walking dead-homeless, destitute- you know, the invisible people that depending on where you live you try not to see, recognize or acknowledge.  I have read the caricatured narratives about the purported "innate" differences between rich and poor that has fueled an almost hatred for people who find themselves outside of the land of Richistan.

The rich are "industrious, entrepreneurial, patriotic and drivers of economic success.  Conversely, the poor are scammers, parasites, and a word our President is often inclined to say disparagingly, losers.  There is no context given to why and how millions of people in the wealthiest nation in the world occupy an almost existential state of crushing privation, destitution and hardship in the looming shadow of urban sprawl and Silicon Valley and Wall Street hyper-affluence.  Maybe the charlatan, televangelist Peter Popoff can do a national tour and give all of the impoverished a tube of his miracle spring water which according to his commercial magically allows people to make requests for envelopes of large, unearned checks to just show up in their mailboxes.  He seems to be a fixture on BET after midnight.  What does poverty look like?  Does it have an aroma, a language, a pathology or a zip code?  I think I have an awareness of this un-American state because far too many people who have followed the manuscript of the American dream are finding themselves a hair's breadth away from Brokeistan--a place void of the amenities we give no thought to until our incomes, lifestyles are disrupted by things like divorce, extended unemployment ( the average American is 3 months away from being destitute without income) catastrophic illness, disability or the untimely death of the primary provider.

By my estimation, regular folks have as many as 15 or more different expenses: Rent/mortgage, groceries, credit cards, ( yeah, they do) utilities, phone, car note or bus passes, car insurance, health insurance, dental, life, *student loans,( nationally at 2 trillion) cable tv, wi-fi, clothing, gas for vehicle, misc-if you have children you understand. John Maxwell said," A budget is simply telling your money where to go instead of wondering where it went."  I love this quote but those living on the margins are stuck somewhere between an episode of Survivor and The Great Race in search of the money that they are supposed to be telling where to go.  All of that intellectual property in the form of forward-thinking innovators gathering in Davos seems to be far removed from the staff at the gas station I frequent every other morning to get my $1.82 cup of Chai tea.  A few of them are what I call the invisible poor.  They work at least two jobs, are not federally subsidized and genuinely aspire to partake in the fullness of life this country offers.  I know this because they are not invisible to me.  I know this because my daily routine takes me through the hedges and highways of those who will never have a place at the table of the World Economic Forum.  The 3000 or more invitees to this prestigious gathering won't include those who intimately know the nuances of economic despair and distress.  That is the great tragedy.

                                                                             

                                                                Mister, is it true?


The Day of Reckoning is continuing its tumultuous peregrination across the entertainment, political and now sports domain.  Jerry "Mister" Richardson, the iconic, former NFL player turned franchise owner just abruptly declared he would be selling his team after an announced investigation into sexual misconduct centered around his "creepy old man" tendencies.  Richardson fashioned himself as a kind of antebellum-style Southern gentleman, regularly leaving personal notes and cash for his female employees to get manicures and ameliorate their appearance to meet the unspoken standards dictated by his expectations.

The aura and mannerisms of some NFL owners in general, a fraternity that is probably more exclusive than the clandestine Skull and Bones, engenders, at times, a kind of chauvinistic, if not sexist culture in which their pecuniary weight could be leveraged to allow them to rule like a plutocrat whose idiosyncrasies are not only never to be questioned, but ostensibly tolerated.  There is an ironic dichotomy in the allegations being levied against an owner whose influence placed him in the pantheon of the uber owners like Robert Kraft and Jerry Jones.  He has an Hispanic head coach Ron Rivera, an African American as the face of the franchise in quarterback Cam Newton, and a woman, Tina Becker, serving as chief operating officer of the team.  He will be forensically examined in light of the actual diversity his organization organically provides.  Somehow, one can not be mutually exclusive from the other.  Oh, did I mention that an allegation of a racial slur was part of the phalanx of offenses listed in the settlements.

NDAs (non-disclosure agreements) have become the legal instrument to shelter disparaging content of those accused.  From Harvey Weinstein to U.S Congressmen, this jurisprudent utility has become the de facto power play to protect from legal recourse after settlements have been reached.  Without fail the owners will close ranks and deflect, denounce or belittle the aspersions being cast on a towering figure such as Richardson.  His imprint in the state of North Carolina is legendary, almost folklorish.  Apparently "Mister" was just a man who liked to engage in "Jeans Day" at work with a kind of misogynistic indulgence that was supposed to be dismissive.  I guess he could not have known that the tsunami that began in Hollywood would transverse the country and find its way to little ol' Charlotte!

                                                                     Greek Life

The most recent deaths of Penn State, FSU and LSU pledges in the heralded, if not cloistered, world of Greek fraternities has brought the organizations under a much needed spotlight.  The question that under girds the tragedy of the senseless deaths of America's "best and brightest" at major universities is why would an otherwise erudite individual subject themselves to initiation rites that are tantamount to abuse at the high end and asinine, reckless, frat boy antics at the low end of the conduct spectrum?  Critics of the elitist, separatist culture of Greek organizations are going to launch a phalanx of  grievances to justify advocacy for the "death penalty"-expulsion of the chapters from the university.  Its proponents will market the virtues and societal benefit of these distinguished young men who when acculturated to the tenets of their charter embody all that's good in what will become the future leaders of this nation.

What's being lost in this tragic narrative is a Bacchanalian culture that permeates almost every secular university in this country. Alcohol, more specifically underage drinking, in its many incarnations, is as much a rite of passage on university campuses as going to sporting or social events.  Getting hammered, lit, wasted, totally drunk (sorry parents) is an inextricable and expected part of college life.  I have heard countless, gleeful recollections from alumni of prestigious schools about waking up in strangers' apartments or becoming so inebriated that their speech was slurred or projectile vomiting as their bodies fought to protect them from alcohol toxicity.

Beer kegs on the weekend ( actually it starts on Thursday evening)are transported like precious cargo to apartments, frat houses and private homes in every city in this country with a college campus.  Binge drinking is not an anomaly or aberration. National Lampoon's Animal House was not a caricature of college life to bemuse and dismiss.  A microcosm of this abusive alcohol culture in high definition can be seen at any Spring Break gathering.  If you believe that I embellish my position just look at the impact of cities that decided to ban alcohol consumption by college students during their forays into their zip codes for Hedonism 101.  Fort Lauderdale, FL for years was a prime destination for thousands of college students.  Intoxicated young men, plus high rise hotels was a petri dish for disaster.  In addition to students falling to their deaths because of alcohol impairment, the level of vandalism to properties became an untenable proposition no matter how many millions of dollars these spring breakers brought to the county coffers.

As a nation we rejected the idea of the prohibition of alcohol. We love our: bourbon, gin, vodka, whiskey, rum. tequila, brandy, wine, champagne and God knows BEER (ale, lager)! The ubiquity of alcohol is engendered by our do what thou wilt zeitgeist.  Thirty thousand plus people a year die from alcohol-related car accidents and thousands more die from alcohol-related diseases yet we WILL NOT  deny anyone over the age of 21 the "right" to imbibe at their leisure no matter the collateral damage to those who are not interested in luxuriating in the spirits so gleefully marketed with zest and fervor on every major network.  Miles Monroe said, "when purpose is not understood, abuse is inevitable." I have often wondered at what point the abusive element of the pledging process ( physical beatings, toxic level of alcohol consumption) became a measure of fraternal worthiness?

As a former naval officer, I understand and have gone through the indoctrination process, which in part mimics the physical and emotional rigor of the pledging process.  What is fundamentally different is that the "breaking down" process had a template and expected end in preparing me to become a commissioned officer in the United States military.  The ethos and pathos of Greek culture and their initiation process needs to be forensically examined and CHANGED!

                                                                When We Said I Do

Almost 24 years ago, the love of my life took a chance on forever by saying yes to my request to marry her.  This relationship has transversed three decades ( 90's, 2000's, 2010's) against a milieu of fashion trends, elastic social mores and ideological shifts that have dramatically altered the cultural landscape we once knew as newlyweds.

Our wedding, an endorphin-rich ceremony where I stood transfixed at my wife's transcendent beauty was the beginning of a journey of two hearts that had to do more than beat as one.  Our lives as a covenant-bound couple had begun and would usher in the "for richer, for poorer", the "sickness and in health", and test the notion of a love that is sealed by the Holy Spirit until death do us part. So much about the institution of marriage is conflated, distorted, and sadly vilified.  Many people approach it in a chemically-induced stupor, impaired by emotions, feelings and a belief that the rapturous high of each other's presence is sustainable no matter the rigors of life.

The truth is that the two becoming one flesh may be a seamless process physically, but emotionally, spiritually and ideologically the alchemy is a much more deliberative process.  I have long believed that God only allows certain things to be revealed within the covenant of marriage.  No matter how compatible, familiar and comfortable two people are before their vows, you are imbued with a new awareness, insight and understanding by God once you "jump the broom!"  Marriage is a fusion of at times antithetical views, life experiences, opinions and beliefs. The merging of two individuals as husband and wife is a life-long process- with love being the bonding agent, the sustenance supplied by God.

No matter how adept you are at planning the future, the vicissitudes of life will either serve as a sealant or corrosive agent to your union. The two will become three or more. Each year transforms the relationship into an amalgamation of new first:anniversaries, children's birthdays, promotions, home ownership, family trips, relocation and a variety of benchmarks to denote the new chapters of the ever unfolding life you share together.  One of the misunderstood components of this saga is the inevitable metamorphosis of each individual.  The two that became one flesh will evolve into mature incarnations of the doe-eyed couple that stood breathlessly awaiting to exchange their "forever' vows. The challenge within a marriage is to maintain a synergy, a synthesis as you two grow, mature, and develop into your future selves.  After the spectacular celebration of your public declaration of love and happiness, you will be inundated with moments that will either impenetrably seal your union or begin to form tiny fissures that, if left unaddressed, will over time become an almost uncrossable chasm.

 Stacy and I have been most fortunate to have raised two incredible daughters, opened our home to family and friends, donated countless resources anonymously to individuals and organizations and
yet imbibed deeply on the sweet and at times bitter moments of life. I am sharing this with you because after almost a quarter of a century of marriage, these tidbits are not things I picked up vicariously.  Even with the benefit of premarital counseling and incredible role models of robust, healthy marriages around me, these things were never explained to me in a measure that equipped me to navigate with confidence as these sometimes dystopic chapters had to be walked through.  Stacy Lynn Broussard, a young lady from the state of Louisiana changed my life.  She made me a husband, father, and provided me with life transforming love, support and insight.  What I want anyone reading this to realize is that the best marriages require diligence, patience, understanding and unequivocally the love of Christ to flourish.  I have had the time of my life with the love of my life!  I just want you to know that the optics of a great couple come with a lot of behind-the-scenes work which first and foremost include prayer for each other and the ability to acknowledge when you are wrong.  I believe in the incredible gift that is marriage.  I just want you to understand that it is not to be entered into lightly.  Selah