A few weeks ago, I sat in my class as my 11th graders poured in from the outside heat. I’d been anticipating their arrival. Being the 27 year old teacher that I am, I’d long since found that I had the ability to relate much of the academic material we had to cover with the hip-hop culture that permeated both of our lives, and the result had been a very insightful and productive year of discussion and learning. My school is a small, private institution located inMaryland, and I’d estimate that 98% of our students are African-American and solidly middle class, if not higher.
As the year was drawing to a close, I’d decided to take the last three weeks of school and branch out from the set English curriculum. My college days were still fresh in my mind, and I’d longed to introduce them to some of the African-American studies texts that I had to dissect for my major. I decided to turn the final weeks of English class into discussion-based seminar centered around some of these works, and to the delight of my students, base their fourth quarter grades solely on their ability to intelligently comment on and critique the readings.
This decision, I would soon discover, would teach me much more than it would enlighten them.
It became apparent after the first week or so, that I’d grossly overestimated the connection that my students had with the social and civil rights issues not only of the 60’s, but of today as well. I found myself increasingly surprised at how nonchalant the majority of their attitudes were concerning issues of race. During the height of one particular discussion, I posed the question to the class: “What would you do if you walked up to the doors of your favorite restaurant, only to find a sign in the window that read ‘Whites Only’?” Only one of my students, a young man, replied that he’d be enraged. Another one of my students replied innocently that she would simply go and find her parents, as if they held a qualification to deal with racial situations that she did not, and one of my highest performing students, after shooting her hand up excitedly, stated matter-of-factly that she would just go and find another restaurant.
Herein lies my problem with Mr. Cose’s book. I do not disagree with his thesis – in fact, I agree wholeheartedly. Black rage is dying off. In this new Obama-era, a black person who puts up the black power fist in a crowded room is much more likely to get eyes rolled at him by fellow African-Americans than to be supported and cheered on. Though most black people still believe that racism exists, an increasing majority believe that it has little to no effect on them, their lives, and their ability to achieve.
I agree with Mr. Cose’s premise. I disagree, however, with his enthusiasm.
In this new, supposedly “post-racial” Obama-era, I find myself asking: what happens if there is no more rage to fight the racism? If black anger was the caffeine that energized the civil rights movement up enough to defeat Jim Crow, what will energize us enough to take on the remaining social ills within American society? Or worse yet: where will we find the stamina to take on the remnants of that past era that seem to be emerging within a new right-wing conservative sect today?
In a nutshell, is black rage dying off prematurely?
Cose points to the election of Barak Obama, the nation’s first African-American President, as a major catalyst for this paradigm shift in the black community. Black jubilation permeated the air as Obama gave his inauguration speech. People of all races had no choice but to breathe it in amidst the teary eyes and high heads of black folks. But why wasn’t that jubilation able to channel itself into rage, or at least moderate anger, when the insults started? We as a community cannot bask in the glow of his election without sharing in the outrage and humiliation he’s had to undergo since. Where was black rage when the birthers were trying to claim, despite repeated presentation of factual proof, that President Obama was not born inAmerica? Where was black rage when Tea Party members were sporting signs with President Obama dressed as a pimp and transposed on a monkey? Where was black rage when Bill O’Reilly sat down with the President before the Super Bowl and spoke to him like he was a little child? Have we become fair-weather friends of our President? Why were we, as African-Americans, able to support him so fervently on the front end, and yet leave him without even a cry of outrage on his behalf now that the attacks have come full force?
I’m afraid that this is what happens when black rage dies – black people lose the ability to speak out against injustices concerning our own people. We can carry on long, healthy discussions about classism and economic injustice, but we turn up our noses and refuse to talk about issues of race. It’s taboo now, after all, and it’s beneath us.
In his book, Cose breaks the generations of black people to which he refers into three major categories. Generation one, those who were born prior to 1945, he labels “The Fighters”. Generation two, those born between 1945 and 1969, he labels “The Dreamers”, and those born between 1970 and 1995 make up generation 3, who he labels “The Believers”. There is a brief reference at the end of chapter 4 to a fourth generation (I assume this refers to those born between 1995 and the present), whom Cose optimistically labels “The Reapers”. The perspectives of these generations differ drastically when it comes to race. The Fighters are still acutely aware of race and the role it plays in their day to day lives, whereas The Believers acknowledge race, but believe that it has little to no impact on their lives or their ability to achieve. Furthermore, it is implied that The Reapers will barely have any concept of race at all, and will exist in a world where color will just about be a mute issue.
If we stick to the confines of Cose’s generational borders, then my 11th graders are right on the cusp between The Believers and The Reapers. Just as importantly, I hypothesize that their parents (most of whom look middle aged), fall on the cusp between The Dreamers and The Believers. One can note the steady decline of “black rage” based on the years that each group found themselves growing up, culminating with my 11th graders, who for all intents and purposes, have no rage at all. They are aware that they are black, but most are woefully unaware of how this translates into our new “post-racial” society. They don’t think about it, and they don’t feel like they need to think about it. Frankly, it’s not important to them.
Except – how can this be a post-racial society when an organization like the Tea Party can refuse to denounce the blatantly racist comments that have sprung from some its members, and yet continue to grow, thrive, and most unsettling of all, gain power? I recognize that it’s becoming jaded to bring up the Tea Party whenever one discusses racism in present-dayAmerica, but the fact of the matter is that the Tea Party represents a much larger constituency within this country. They have taken the private discourse of many conservative whites, run it through a politically correct filter, and presented it as a public opinion. And with black rage (which could have proved to be a formidable foe against their rise) being all but extinct, they’ve now grown to the point where they can threaten to shut down the entire government, putting the income of millions of people in jeopardy. They aren’t interested in compromise. They aren’t interested in bipartisanship. Their goal, which they’ve made abundantly clear, is to take this country back.
Which brings me to my million-dollar question: who will stop them? If we stop deluding ourselves long enough to realize that this political machine is not just some fly-by-night operation that will be here today and gone tomorrow, then we must concede that it will take a concentrated effort on behalf of minorities and liberals to stop them from taking this country in the direction that they plan to. It will take the kind of effort that black rage produces. Without that kind of fuel, I fear the Tea Party locomotive will have no force strong enough to prevent it from reaching its destination.
And by then, all the black rage in the world won’t do us any good.
I read Mr. Cose’s book, and think about my 11th graders, with a healthy amount of trepidation. Yes, significant racial progress has been made in this country, and yes, the election of President Barak Obama represents a turning point in American history and a great leap in the progressiveness of this country. We would be wise, however, to not get so comfortable in our complacency that we ignore the impending battles ahead. I close my eyes and picture a horror movie in which Mr. Cose’s third and fourth generations, “The Believers” and “The Reapers” find themselves reverted back to “The Fighters”, but lack the basic training necessary to be effective. Our job is not to ignore the past, nor to pretend as if it never existed. It is, instead, to teach our children, our emerging generations, about the hardships of the past, so that they can prevent history from repeating itself. Black rage does not need to die in the Obama era. It needs to be tailored to fit the era in which we live.
In a time where white rage has fueled a political movement, letting black rage fade away into nothingness must have dire consequences.
And I, for one, am not willing to find out what they are.
