Although I have a "militant streak a mile
wide", I have never been a promoter of violence. That said, I truly
understand the frustration our young people feel, especially our young men. The
odds are stacked against them. They are disrespected on every side, and they
are angry. I know...
Ever since Roots aired in 1976, I have not been able
to comfortably watch the mistreatment of my people in cinema. I get angry. I am
angry and I don't try to pretend that I'm not. I realize, however, that anger
does not, in and of itself, beget violence. Violence is a useless and
unnecessary response to injustice, which is really what the Civil Rights
leaders were trying to teach us many years ago. Anyone who has ever been in a
fight will tell you that the issues that fight resolved were nothing compared
to the inner issues that had to be resolved in our own minds afterward. If I
believed that destroying other people's stuff would somehow make me feel
better, I would have been tearing up the world, but I know it doesn't happen
like that.
Violence from anyone is wrong, and the smallest,
youngest children know right from wrong. Babies know when what they get ready
to do is wrong, and they look to adults for validation. They wait, while
reaching toward the shiny object that is off-limits, for parents (or any adults
in the room) to say, "NO!" They reach more than once, and the
"NO!" must be continually reinforced. It's a hard job, but the
designation PARENT dictates the necessity for doing it. The job description of
parent should contain the disclaimer that it is not a popular position... the
employees hate you, the hours are long and grueling, the stress is oppressive,
and the pay is lousy. However, the rewards, when a parent sees that a
responsible, well-adjusted, respectful and respectable adult is the product,
are phenomenal.
Last night was not the first night many of those
young people had been out in the streets. Many young people go out every night,
just waiting for something to happen, for something to "jump off". Sad,
and angry at the world, they go out. They should have been at home reading and
studying, but they were out. They should have been playing video games or
reading to their younger sisters and brothers, but they were out. It was a
school night, but they were out. They should have had something constructive to
do, but they were out. They should have, at the very least, been peaceful, as
the gang members even asked them to do, but they didn't think they had to,
because they were out. They were out because they don't fear the police,
although their parents do fear the police and the law in general. Their parents
know about consequences, and they are not about to have to suffer them. Parents
have learned, the hard way, to protect themselves, even at the cost of their
children.
Anyone who knows me knows that I tell everybody I
was more afraid of my mother than I was of the police. There were many times
when I avoided dangerous situations (not always, but that's another
conversation) simply because I was afraid of what my mother might say or do,
and I respected her, my family, and my own reputation. I knew that, when she
said she would kill me, or that she would leave me in jail because she would
never have bail money, even if she had a million dollars, I truly believed her.
She didn't lie. She had control, even when I was dozens of miles away from her.
At 58, after she has been gone from my consciousness for almost 20 years, she
STILL has that control. I catch myself looking around sometimes, to see if she
is walking up behind me, and watching my language, which can sometimes get out
of hand, just in case she is.
Now, parents are not allowed to strike that kind of
fear into their children. From the time children enter school especially, they
know that they can depend on the law to protect them from their parents. I was
made aware of this when my daughter entered kindergarten. She came home and
proudly announced that her teacher had told her that, if I spanked her, she
could dial 9-1-1, and the police would come to help her, and so I could never
spank her. Because I cared that her teacher, for whom this was her first
teaching job, be aware of this misconception, I contacted her and explained
that she needed to explain to the children the difference between parents
correcting children, in love, and parents beating and abusing children. I also
laughed when she said my daughter came to her that morning and asked her when I
was supposed to bring her clothes, because, if I couldn't discipline her, she
couldn't live with me. She did a superb job, but she would never have known it
was an issue if I hadn't bothered to tell her.
It was an issue for more parents than me, but
parents just didn't seem to know it. They bought into the negativity of the
media coverage of parents getting arrested for disciplining their children and
the adoption of new laws that supported jail time for parents, even if their
children did something as simple as missing days from school. They bought into
the psychological and sociological data that condemns parents for promoting
violence, if they discipline their children. They even bought into the hype
that teaching children respect was somehow teaching them to be subservient and
cowardly. They allowed their children to be rude and disrespectful, out loud,
even if it hurt the feelings and damaged the self-respect of others, claiming
"freedom of speech". There were parents like myself, who quietly
taught our children, especially our boys, to be respectful, watchful, and
disciplined in their deportment, but, gradually, we became the exceptions
rather than the norm. We allowed that to happen, without really understanding
what we were doing. It became an issue of education, or the lack of education
and enlightenment, an education which should have come from our homes. Parents
began to feel helpless and hopeless, not fully understanding that, if they didn't discipline their kids, the
streets and the justice system would do it for them, and that would be
disastrous for all involved.
One thing I know for sure is that there shouldn't
have been any fighting or looting or burning in the streets. These young people should not have
taken the risk of tarnishing the memory of Freddy Gray, or any other African
American male who lost his life unjustly. They should have known that none of
these young men would have wanted that... no person in his right mind would
have wanted it. They should have started studying, thinking, coming up with
ways to change this scenario, and obliterate this obscene and obsessive
violence against others, especially our own. They should have, like the gang
members who were trying to stop them, pledged to form a band of brothers...
intent on making things right.
