Black History Month

February is Black History Month. Some folks believe there is no need to continue designating this month for this reason. You might be one of them and I respect that. I personally do not share that opinion. I have friends and associates of all nationalities that will receive this email. I hope you can read this objectively because I have the utmost respect for you and your opinions, as I hope you do for mine.

The African American community is experiencing some catastrophic realities. Our children are dying in record numbers and it is only being noticed when the best and brightest of us fall victim. To be true to my faith I am just as concerned with the death of the “gang banger” as I am for the debutant. You might shout out that in the black community it is a result of black on black crime. You might also say that whites are dying in mass shootings because of “mental illness” which is the only reason there is an out-cry for gun control.

This month is a perfect opportunity for my generation to speak up and stress the rich history and struggle of a people that was the subject of the most horrific and diabolical treatment (before and after the 13th Amendment) any one group of people could endure. I reaped the benefits of my parent’s (generational) struggles in the 40’s, 50’s, and 60’s. In the 70’s and 80’s the road blocks to success were passable because of the struggles of my elders. I did not acknowledge their “triumph” or pass on my gratitude. Instead I focused with laser beam precision to realize “my dreams” and prosper. Consequently, I (we) forgot to tell (repeat) the stories of the struggles and show our appreciation for the fruit we ate from trees we did not plant.

Excerpt from “Letter from a Birmingham Jail” Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, "Wait." But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six year old daughter why she can't go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Fun Town is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five year old son who is asking: "Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?"; when you take a cross country drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading "white" and "colored"; when your first name becomes "nigger," your middle name becomes "boy" (however old you are) and your last name becomes "John," and your wife and mother are never given the respected title "Mrs."; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of "nobodiness"--then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.

Those that pull the trigger do so with no thought of the countless “somebodies” that endured to allow them to just “be”. They never heard this story (and many others like it). They may only know of the much heralded “I have a dream” speech. One month can’t contain the history of African Americans. My hope is that it can serve as a spring board for conversation.

I can only pray that we all realize that God has given us a short time to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” Matthew 22:37-40

My Lord My God My Father My Counselor, and My Redeemer, Thank you for your loving kindness despite our inability to appreciate your limitless gifts. Your greatest commandment is that we love you with all we have and then love others as we love ourselves. With that in mind, I lift up all relationships to you. All human encounters, rather they be casual or complex. I ask that you be present in them and bring peace to a hurting world… Amen