StereoBros

 

It’s December 2016 and we have found ourselves at a crossroads. A decision whereby the very soul of our country lied at stake, much more than that, we found ourselves gambling with the moral fabric of our nation, which was hanging on by a wavering thread. See contrary to popular belief, the dice wasn’t rolled on Nov 8^th, no, the game began the day after. For those of us who reside in Black America, we knew it was a “50/50” chance for this election. We knew we were screwed either way (well at least most of us did), just opting to vote for the figuerative devil that we somehow knew a little bit better, than the orange devil we didn’t know at all. However, Nov 8^th is when the self-proclaimed “post racism, color blind America” realized, “Oh Sh*t, America is still racist, these BLM (Black Lives Matters) folks may have been speaking the truth.” The underbelly of the nation stood up and said enough is enough. No more inclusive progression, no more change, they decidedle said it was time to look out for their self interests, if the British could do it, so could they. By the droves they came out and voted, coupled with the apathetic voters who felt that it was not their problem and abstained from voting all together handed the Orange, I mean the Donald, I mean Mr. President-Elect Trump the election.

What I really want to focus on though, is the game and the gamble that we are now apart of and specifically, speak to those who were apathetic regarding the election. As a whole, our community did not come out to vote and no one is to blame but “us.” I mean, us as African-Americans, us as Latinos, us as women, us as every minority community who stands in the direct cross hairs of the “Alt Right.” I say that “it is our fault” to say, that we as a whole that stood indifferent are to blame. I am a young black man in America, who came to these “United” States as an immigrant. A first generation college student who graduated from a PWI (Predominantly White Institution) with a degree in Civil Engineering, I joined a BGLO (Black Greek Letter Organization) and, while accomplishing all of this (which on the larger scale of things is not that much), I have watched our community steadily decline and become more (civically)disengaged. Gone are the days where we openly stood for something. Gone are the days that we yelled till our voices were heard and when our voices gave out, we stomped. Now, the voices have faded into the wind and the fists that stood as beautiful black monuments have shifted to open face palms pleading for humanity, sometimes, at the discretion of a public servant’s trigger.

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT, IT IS OUR FAULT. We became complacent, we allowed ourselves to be bought. Take an excerpt from the Willie Lynch Letter, circa 1712 “Take the meanest and most restless n*gger, strip him of his clothes in front of the remaining male n*ggers, the female, and the n*gger infant, tar and feather him, tie each leg to a different horse faced in opposite directions, set him afire and beat both horses to pull him apart in front of the remaining n*ggers. The next step is to take a bullwhip and beat the remaining n*gger males to the point of death, in front of the female and the infant. Don’t kill him, but PUT THE FEAR OF GOD IN HIM, for he can be useful for future breeding…. By her being left alone, unprotected, with the MALE IMAGE DESTROYED, the ordeal caused her to move from her psychologically (inter)dependent state to a frozen, independent state…” I believe it is the same concept in a different context. Prior to the Civil Rights movement, we were restless we had nothing, therefore we could lose nothing. When you’re at rock bottom, you can’t fall any further and thus the only direction you have is up. Therefore perceptively, we made tremendous strides within that Civil Rights era. We pushed our people forward and gained traction, gave our leaders martyrdom and then we stopped. We gained ground and decided that it was good enough. The occasional protest would arise and we would get our way, but they were hollow victories because the giant machine that is institutionalized racism was already developed to give us those. A mechanism which quickly realized that cutting off the finger was better than losing the hand. The system gave us a small step ladder to climb, just enough to feel like we had made real progress. Now, we have something to lose, we have something they could take away if the protesting and fighting continued. Then our death blow in 2008, “Uncle Barry” took the “big house” and we got really comfortable, feeling as if we were in the White House with him. We figuratively, took our shoes off and kicked up our feet. Not realizing as we became more complacent, we had poked the underbelly of a sleeping beast. In 2012, we kept prodding and the beast woke up not in time for the election, but it was wide awake with the reelection, complete with a bruised ego and proverbial bloodthirst.

How do we move forward now when all seems lost with this year’s election results? Well, the game is not over, we must put our head down and get to work. Far too many times have I seen people within the collective minority community say “Well, this doesn’t affect me directly, so I am unconcerned and frankly, I am sick of it.” The reality is that our lives are all intertwined threads pulling at each other in every direction, our futures inexplicably linked together on the loom of fate. That is why, the slightest pluck has the ability to reverberate across both time and space. It’s time we started plucking our own strings and effecting change like no other, we have to shed the cloak of oppression that has been placed on us by the years of institutional racism. Get involved in our local communities, and governments. Understand that each decision to help one another has the potential to be magnified tenfold. This game is far from over, yes Trump is about to be president, but he cannot do the things he says he would like to do if we show up to play

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By K B

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