Posted on August 1, 2011
How strange; to see what
resembles
an entire generation
involved in a musical style that screams of anger. Not anger at the proverbial White Man but at The Women. It saddens
me to see that Black male / female relationships still suffer
but not only her. How can we sing love songs to each other if we are jealous of
each other? Could it be that we are afraid of the fact, that she wheeled a
power over our loins? When a man puts down a woman in word, it is a
proclamation of fear, confusion, inadequacy or simply, jealousy? Why, is it
necessary to call them Bitches and Woes? They can’t be hoes? Is it an
affirmation of perceived conquest? When the Black Man puts down the Black
Woman, is he in fact running from the Yin to his Yang or is it the Yang to
his Yin? She is not called Woe-Man for naught. Left with half, it can never
be whole. Please see that there is something special about Yin and Yang,
they are not the same but are one. We have so much in common; being
complete; united in a plural singularity. Half can never be a whole
without the other. If so then, what do you think this means: “In us dwells the
future of this whole damned race”? I think we feel from Grace. So he has
raised up another nation that will obey and they are not Black or White but one
People.
In the name of a
unique sound and the right to say what you please, I hear very little substance
in the conversation. To be free in captivity is still slavery. Is it true
then? You can take a man out of the ghetto but you can’t take the ghetto out of
the men? I ask you then, what and where is the “Ghetto”? Is it a place
where people are content being thought to be less than they are? Isn’t that the
definition a modern internment camp of sorts?
What started as a
creative rhythm of rhyme has become created words used as secret gang language
or an alternative to the American dialect called “Ebonics”? Then the proverbial Pissing Contest, which continues to
ends in destruction and more of the same absence of hope?
Diamond rings, gold
capped teeth and cash has not saved too many colored babes that have died in
the hood because some would be gangster wanted to earn a rep or defend a turf
that does not exist but still they brand the buildings and trees with letters
and symbols that so soon get “X’ed” then painted over and over and over;
still. How many have died for your right to not get educated or at least learn
to speak the common language. Wasn’t it yo mom-ma or her
mom ma’s mom ma’s Madea? So you laughed at your matriarch’s broken
English? So you’ve forgotten their struggle if you knew it and for what
they suffered and too many died, to learn hanging on a tree. Still, the real is
that you’ve forgotten who you aren’t. Then who are you? How will or can
you prove your birth-right if for her you have no respect or appreciation for
the right to claim all that one or more can be, and to realize that which is
our inalienable
right to have and
pursue.
It seems as if we still don’t know what that is. So, who we are, is not the who
we were or will become and who you are, is not who I am but we are all one, if
not the same.
Wow.
Did I have something
to say?
YES! And A Whole Lot
More!
By
Sammie L. Carter
Copyright 15 May 2002
