I want to show you something.
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6w34zsEWNys[/youtube]
I’d like to believe this was staged, but unfortunately I’ve seen this all too often. Notice, too, that in the clip above many of those who stopped the white child from getting punched were black.
I think there is a problem here that contributes, partially, to facts like the black-on-black crime murder rate being so high (although that’s not the entire reason — that’s a complex issue that also has to do with a history of police so racist and abusive, black communities had to create their own systems of justice). The way we treat each other, I think, reflects the way society told us to think about ourselves. There is a well-documented history of white America telling us that we are inferior and primal due to the color of our skin. Going all the way back to Thomas Jefferson and beyond. Because that’s what they needed to keep us under control.
I used to believe the lie. I used to think that I had to be different than all those other black people who had a victim mentality, so my shame prompted me to state that, unlike them, I wasn’t a victim. But the more I study the issue, the more I see that a “victim” mentality, in the sense of black people proclaiming their anger at being American society’s victims, isn’t the problem. Even when there is a type of “victim mentality,” it seems based on a feeling of helplessness and profound inferiority, not from a feeling of pride and a demand for dignity and equal treatment.
Let me use an example.
Say there’s an abuse victim. There are a couple reactions to abuse that show low self-esteem. One is to deny that you’re being treated unfairly, and take the abuse. I think that I saw this mentality in myself, and I suspect I’m not alone. So what if black skin makes you a second-class citizen in the United States? Everyone is telling you that you deserve that status, so you start to accept it. And then that acceptance in yourself leads you to treat other black individuals as second-class citizens, as well.
Another is to admit that you’re being treated unfairly, but think that you’re uncapable of changing the situation. You can’t win. Everyone around you is telling you, in various ways, that black people tend to be inferior, and somewhere along the line, it got under your skin.
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3r1ssg1LIt4[/youtube]
And so you, like an abused person, doesn’t ask for help. Because you’re convinced it won’t work, you give up.
And because that, many of us don’t ask for reforms. In both situations — the one where you accept, without protest, your position as a second-class citizen; and the one where you think that there is no way out of being a second-class citizen because the powers that be define you as that to your core — the problem is the same. Low self-esteem.
If we have pride, if we know that we deserve to be treated a certain way, we will be strengthened. We will demand equal treatment and respect from society, and give that respect to each other.
When I hear someone (usually, but not always, a white person) say or imply, for example, that black people are naturally violent because of high murder rates, I see them as perpetuating the problem. The cause of the murder rates, the high child abuse rates, and other crimes against other black people is not because we aren’t hard enough on each other. It’s not because we don’t put enough pressure on each other. It’s not because we treat each other, or society treats us, better than we deserve to be treated. That doesn’t make any sense. If we loved each other, we wouldn’t hurt each other.
We do it because we have been told to hate the color of our skin, and that causes us to project the hatred of our own skin on other people who wear it. It’s a catharsis.
I used to feel this way. Yeah, I grew up in the suburbs, with mostly white friends. But I hated my black skin — especially as it was connected to all those other demeaned black people, always embarrassing us. I wanted to embrace “white” culture as much as possible. And then I read about our history. And I realized that I had been lied to. I realized that my history is full of heroes. I realized that they ways that people had tried to destroy my skin color, and my pride in who I was, was based on a sham, a false story that had been used repeatedly to undermine and steal the lives from millions of people. And I began to see the dignity of black individuals, forged often under horrifying abuse. I read about our history, and as I did, I found pride in my skin, as opposed to shame.
And when that happened, something else happen. I didn’t feel mere sorrow. I didn’t feel helplessness. I didn’t feel inferiority.
I felt anger.
As James Baldwin once said, “”To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time.” I was furious. How dare they treat us as second-class citizens. We had dignity. We had value. We had earned our rights to be full citizens of America, to be equals, to be respected, although it had been clearly denied to use time and time again. We had become victims, yes, but we did not deserve to be victims. We had lost respect, but we deserved respect.
And what happened, then, is that I started to defend and respect other black individuals, too, much more.
I think that this is how we heal. We have to press for equality, for equal treatment, out of a deep sense of pride. And if we look for that pride from white people, I don’t think we’re going to get it. We have to find that pride to fight for equality — for ourselves, our children, and every black person we love — in ourselves. Like they always tell you — when a gas mask is provided, put it on yourself first, and then you can effectively put it on others. You have to save your own sense of dignity and conviction that you deserve nothing less than equality. You have to dig deep in yourself and realize that there is a pride you can have in your heritage, because our children will likely only have that dignity if we can find it in ourselves.
Yes, to any white people, if you’re reading this, you can do plenty to help marginalized races in this country. You can fight for us through calling out racism where you see it and by showing us common decency and respect. But, fellow black people, when it comes to respecting ourselves, and loving ourselves — not in spite of our black skin, but including and even because of it — the truth is that no one else can do THIS for us…although many black people have shown us how it is done. We built this country under the whip with our blood and tears. We fought from slavery to the goddamn Presidency in elections against candidates who were alive when we weren’t even able to go to their schools. We did this because we believed in ourselves, and we weren’t wrong in that belief. We will fail to the extent that we stop believing in our value. We have nothing, as a race, to be ashamed of, except shame itself.
I’d like to end with some words from Martin Luther King, Jr.
I come here tonight and PLEAD with you:
Believe in yourself and believe that you’re somebody.
Nobody else can do THIS for us.
No document can do THIS for us.
No Lincolnian emancipation proclamation can do THIS for us.
No Johnsonian civil rights bill can do THIS for us.
If the Negro is to be free, he must move down into the inner resources of his own soul and sign with a pen and ink of self-assertive manhood his OWN emancipation proclamation.
Be proud of our heritage. We don’t have anything to be ashamed of.
Somebody told a lie one day.
They couched it in language. They made everything Black ugly and evil. Look in your dictionaries and see the synonyms of the word “Black.” It’s always something degrading and low and sinister. Look at the word “White,” it’s always something pure, high and clean.
But I want to get the language right tonight.
I want to get the language so right that everyone here will cry out: ‘Yes, I’m Black, I’m PROUD of it. I’m Black and I’m beautiful!’”
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Suw_CQ3zfTY[/youtube]
Thanks for reading.
PS. I have a Patreon, in case you want to support what I’m doing.
Further Reading:
I talked more about my own personal struggle with this transition here.
I compared the (false) idea that black culture is a “victim cult” to the idea that atheism is a “victim cult” here, to show the common fallacy in each line of thinking.
I documented (with several links to evidence) continuing discrimination against black people here, here, and here, in response to mischaracterizations of black people from TJ Kirk (aka The Amazing Atheist) that were addressed to me.
I responded to Dylann Roof’s accusation (the infamous Charleston church shooter who shot 12 black people, killing 9) that ‘Black people view everything through a racist lens” with an argument that supports several points I’ve made in this blog post, here.
I write about these issues often — the above links are just the most relevant to this particular post. If you want to see future posts first, subscribe. It’ll also support the blog, which receives an additional 10 cents per new subscriber.
Thank you again for reading.
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eb_1NNdf_30[/youtube]