First of two parts
During the sixties we used to say, “I’m black, and I’m proud,” but we never said why. I’d like to correct that.
[img]583|left|||no_popup[/img]I absolutely LOVE being black , and I am not just saying that because it's expected of me. While I have the ultimate respect for the unique character of every race and ethnicity, if I am reincarnated a thousand times, I want to come back black every time.
Being black in America gives one an education and perspective on life that you can't get anywhere else. That's not widely recognized, because public attention often is focused on the most dysfunctional in the black community.
That Is Helpful
Contrary to popular belief, that might not be an altogether bad thing because it allows the excellence within the black community time to incubate, untainted by the public eye. That's what allowed Barack Obama to explode upon the world stage as a fully developed powerhouse. There are hordes of others just like him who are currently incubating in Black cocoons in suburbs and inner cities all over America.
Another thing that's not widely recognized is that the “soul” of black people extends far beyond music. What's commonly referred to as “soul” is actually creativity. As any cognitive scientist will attest, creativity is a primary indicator of advanced intelligence.
Charles Darwin would call “soul” a unique adaptation to adversity. The most insightful within the black community recognize it as being much like a sixth sense that reaches the depths of human understanding. When fully developed, it provides black people with a unique grasp, empathy and insight into the human experience. That is why it is so effective in conveying human emotion – so effective, in fact, that “soul” has been confused with emotion itself.
Immersing, Bathing in Life
Black people don't just live life, we experience it. We experience life in the exact way that we experience music. As a result, we actually feel our environment with the same passion that we feel a lonely bass struttin' through the changes of a slow and funky blues. That accounts for our swagger, but our “soul” also accounts for making us far more than swagger alone – a point we must get across to the more frivolous within our community.
You see, the v same swagger, or soul, that goes into the making of a Ray Charles, a Miles Davis, or Areatha Franklin, under another guise, is responsible for the power and solemnity of mind of a Colin Powell, Johnnie Cochran, or Michelle and Barack Obama. Thus, the very same soul that allows black people to excel in music can be directed towards physics, politics, philosophy or engineering. The only reason it has been reflected primarily in music up until now is because music was one of the few activities black people were allowed to freely engage in. The rise of Obama has signaled a change in that regard.
This is an exciting time for black people, because we recognize that the world is about to discover what we already know – that there is nothing in the human experience more impressive than watching the development of a black child who has been dragged through the pits of hell and the brutal experience of “American Exceptionalism,” then emerges on the other side as a well-adjusted, uniquely eclectic, resolute, and learned product of his or her environment.
These are society's unsung heroes. Many more are to come. They have been tested by fire, and they've prevailed. By the time they have reached 30, they will have faced down more adversity than the average American at 80. Simply having survived America unscathed, by definition, makes them special.
I Am Grateful
When I come into contact with the “strivers” in the black community, I may not say it, but my heart whispers, “Thank you for your service.”
In my heart, I know these are the people who have been selected by nature, and circumstance, to blaze the trail of a new reality and move America forward – and considering America's history, these young people represent the very height of irony. As the old folks used to say, “God works in mysterious ways.”
Watching the collective journeys of these young people has inspired me to recognize that, I, too, can take great pride in being the product of adversity because the lessons of adversity have served to make black people more rather than less.
Having survived the trauma of being black in America speaks volumes. It represents an independent source of knowledge and an unassailable credential, a credential that none of the great institutions of higher learning can possibly provide. While we must strive to attain it, we do not have to rely on sheepskin to attest to those credentials. Due to the tremendous adversity heaped upon us here in America, our beautiful black skin says it all.
Yes, I am black and I am very, very proud. I am proud of who I am. I take great pride in my history – slavery and all – because that history, is what made me, me.
(To be continued)
Eric L. Wattree is a writer, poet and musician, born in Los Angeles. A columnist for the Los Angeles Sentinel, the Black Star News, a staff writer for Veterans Today, he is a contributing writer to Your Black World, the Huffington Post, ePluribus Media and other online sites and publications. He also is the author of “A Message From the Hood.” Mr. Wattree may be contacted at wattree.blogspot.com or Ewattree@Gmail.com
