Silently Black in America

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“Hey Joseph what do you think about all of those people rioting out in south central LA?”, one of my Football coaches asked me. After a few moments of awkward silence, I shrugged my shoulders and just said “I don’t know”.  He then said, “Well, I think they are a bunch of thugs acting like animals. What idiots burn down their own community?” I wanted to say to him, “people who feel like they have nothing to lose, people who do not feel like they are a part of this country, people who others view and treat like animals and who are expected to take their oppression silently. People like me.” But I said nothing. All I could do was listen to him and then walk away. Because I knew my livelihood as a black athlete looking to escape from this 93 percent white High School to go to college depended on me making him and the people who I was surrounded by, feel comfortable by remaining silent. 

I was just a young teenager growing up in the Oklahoma when the LAPD was caught on tape beating Rodney King and found not guilty. For 6 nights straight I ran home as fast as I could after track practice to sit on my bed and watch the news coverage. I could not help but to go through a range of emotions as I saw young people who looked like me, had suffered police harassment like me and were hurting like me, protest and riot in the streets of South Central. Given the fact that I had grown up in a very racist and conservative state like Oklahoma, I understood all too well the negative run-ins with police and the overall inequities that ravaged so many black communities that sparked the fires. In many ways the plight of Black kids living in Oklahoma was no different than that of those living in the much larger and more well-known cities of the US.

Like them we suffered the same ills like Police harassment, poverty, gangs, drugs and brokenness. But in many other ways our suffering was very different. Unlike urban America where millions of black people live, and in some areas are the majority. Black people in rural America are small in numbers like my home state of Oklahoma where black people only make up 6 percent of the entire population and are surrounded by extreme conservatism and racism, so we suffer silently. We suffer from the lack of media coverage of the injustices we experience. We suffer from the lack of culture that helps one develop knowledge and love of oneself, and we still continue to suffer from the effects of The Black Wall Street massacre which resulted in thousands losing their homes, families and lives, but never received a dime in reparations. We are not allowed to be happy about black progress as my family and friends experienced the day after our first black President was elected. They were forced to remain silent at work or face the prospect of termination if they gloated, while their conservative white coworkers had free reign to outwardly express their anger over President Obama’s election. Nor can we outwardly express our pain from oppression as we currently see today in the lack of protest and silence in the more rural areas of America, just as I longed to express the same anger, outrage, and pain that the kids in LA expressed back then as a teen. I know that there are many in rural America today who feel the same way, but are forced to remain silent as their lively hoods are at stake.

It is my hope that the movements that are happening around the country in the more populated areas eventually make their way down to the places where some of the greatest acts of police brutality and racial oppression are happening. Where the people have no voice and many are afraid to speak up. Where the only right we have is the right to remain silent.

As I now share time between DC and NYC and stand in solidarity with those who march in the fight for justice, I also stand with my brethren in middle and rural America who are not yet able to stand publicly. I stand with those who have no one around willing to march with them, with those who see the injustices ravaging their communities but have no recourse. I stand with those who live in states like mine where your votes for progress means very little as you are heavily outnumbered. I stand with those who see the rallies on TV like I did as a kid but feel so distant and invisible.

Long gone are the days of many of my white childhood friends feeling comfortable with me.  As is evident on my Facebook comments after I speak out on injustices or anything race related. But to my family, friends, loved ones and those who I do not know, I will not remain silent until the spotlight is shined on your struggle to breathe freely, we stand with you, and one day we will all breathe freely together.

My First Time: Police Trauma in the Child "Hood"

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I was only 8 years old, full of love for everyone with big dreams about my future when this photo of me holding my baby picture was taken. Little did I know that this would be the last picture ever taken of my innocence. In less than 3 months after this moment my life was forever changed when I was stopped by a police officer while walking home from school. Although I was completely innocent and had never committed a crime, he proceeded to hand cuff me and place me against his car. Then he patted me down and went through my pockets and superman back pack, in search of drugs or weapons. I could feel the fingers of this grown man I had never met running up and down and between my legs. As this was happening I could not help but notice his gun which was eye level, and wondered how many people he had shot with it, and whether I'd be next. I also watched as my white classmates walked by and pointed at me like I was guilty.

After coming up unsuccessful in his search, the policeman took the cuffs off and sent me on my way, as if he was doing me a favor. Although I was happy to have been set free, that night I lay in my bed and cried as I stared at the welts on my wrist left by those cold shackles. The physical welts from the cuffs eventually went away. It was the emotional and physiological welts on my spirit and psyche that scarred me forever. My 8 year old free spirit constantly fought with my 80 year old soul around this idea that no matter how light I walked, how nice I dressed or how much I stayed out of out of trouble, my freedom could be taken from me at any time and that I could be put in hand cuffs and taken to jail away from my home, family and safety or possibly even killed. And "the police" had the power to do this.

Two weeks before my encounter with the policeman, I had been placed in Special Ed at the predominantly white school I attended on the predominantly white side of town in conservative Oklahoma. So I was already scorned as my teachers suggested that I be placed on medication a.k.a. drugs. Now, here I was handcuffed by a cop in front of the school being searched for drugs. As one would imagine, being rendered helpless and vulnerable while my freedom, dignity and innocence were stripped away caused me to develop a deep sense of distrust and anger towards cops. And with reason - because the stops never stopped. It was like the older I got, the more I got pulled over, and the more I got pulled over the more angry I became. 

As we look around at the current racial tensions between the black community and police it is important that we understand that many black males young and old have been traumatized by the policing practices in this country. This is something that very few of my peers would be willing to admit, or they don't even recognize as the  source of their pain. But most will attest that the constant stripping away of their dignity, freedom and smiles of innocence makes them angry. My First Time was traumatizing and a major contributing factor to my anger towards authority  that set my young life on a downward spiral. So as I reflect on the recent events, I believe it is essential for us to honestly deal with this deeply rooted trauma caused by unjustified profiling and stereotyping.  If we're ever going to move towards healing and reconciliation, we need to search for answers so we can understand just how  deeply racial profiling and abuse contribute to and manifest in the generations of boys who are growing into traumatized men.

As the rallies and talks of eradicating abusive police practices that have been allowed to run wild and free here in the west, fills my heart with joy, it also forces me to face my unresolved pain that is deeply rooted in my psyche from being abused by the police. I believe that the movement to show this country that black lives matter is heading in a good direction. I just hope it does not stop with putting pressure on cops to not kill unarmed black men. I also hope that it provides space for those of us whose survived our run-ins with the police, but walked away with our innocence and sense of humanity murdered, a safe place to heal.

Although my life spiraled out of control due to the abuse I suffered at the hands of an insensitive justice system and an insensitive educational system, my life was turned around through the help of God and many mentors. I am now:

A Teacher

A Minister

A Motivational Speaker

An Author

An Ivy League Graduate with a Master’s Degree in Education

And a Doctoral Student at Columbia University who sits on panels with influential leaders

and like many other black males walking around I am a survivor who is “functionally traumatized” by police abuse. 

 The Harlem Walk

by Joseph Mathews

“Maybe you should think about going into the military because you’re not college material, Joseph.”

“You’re just not that good of a reader son.”

“You have a problem comprehending.”

“I’m afraid sports may be the only option for you to make it out of here.”

These are just a few descriptions I heard about myself in school. I must admit, like many young people around the country, hearing statements like these over and over again, will make school, more than any other social ill that exist in one’s community, their biggest nemesis. For me, school became just that - the place where the seeds of intellectual inferiority and self-doubt, were deeply imbedded into my psyche. Draining my spirits of its youthful innocence and energy, it became a place where my voice was muzzled and creativity was stifled. School was where so many of my hopes and dreams came to die and in many ways it was where I died. So, never did I dream that one day I would be an Ivy League graduate. Not the kid who graduated at the bottom, 166^th out of 166. Dead last in my graduating class.

As my name was being called and I took that long walk across stage for my Masters’s Degree, I couldn’t help but reflect back on the other long walks I had taken in my life. Like the walk down the hallway in 3^rd grade when I was being placed in special education. Or the walks I took to “ISS” for in school suspension, usually because of the constant fighting precipitated by one of my peers calling me the “N” word. Or the walk down the hallway of my high school as I dropped out. And the long walk to my jail cell after getting into trouble at the age of 17. And finally, in spite of the naysayers and people who did not believe I would make it, the walk back into school after I decided to return and give my education one last try. For the sake of context, I would like to note that I attended affluent suburban schools, not the so-called dreaded inner city schools that catch such a bad rap. This is why I am saddened that often in the black community there exists this narrative that we as a collective do not hold each other up but rather tear each other down. That we suffer from a sense of mass anti-intellectualism and do not value education or educational accomplishments of others. I have lived in many major cities and have heard this negative narrative spewed more times than I can count. But if my walk through Harlem with my cap and Gown on after graduation, is any indication or barometer of how we as a people celebrate, and appreciate educational accomplishments, then we as a collective need to take a step back and reassess this notion or rather the narrative that the black community is just full of people with the crabs in a barrel mentality.

Like many kids around the country, I always dreamed of coming to New York and being discovered or recognized. But never did I think I would ever be celebrated in New York because of education. As destiny would have it, after I walked across the stage, and embraced many of my classmates who were headed to downtown NYC to pat each other on the back for their accomplishments, I headed off on my own path down 125^th to Sylvia’s Soul Food Restaurant. As I took this long walk, I was surprised to find that Harlem USA welcomed me with open arms. I was being shown more love than I was shown on Columbia’s campus, and just as much love from the people as they would have shown a ball player. One after another the congratulations began to come my way. People stopping me and told me how proud they were of me, and how they want to go to school and get their degrees too. The congrats came from the “sistas” and the bruthas” the older ones and the younger ones. The ones who looked like they were just getting off work, and the ones who looked as if they had no work to go to. Even the “bruthas” on the block who prompt people to clench their pockets as they pass by took the time to tell me congratulations. Actually though I was not counting I will say more bruthas congratulated me that anyone. One brutha in particular named Karem stopped me to show his admiration and asked if he could take a picture of me – the picture included in this blog. Then he shared with me how as a kid, he and his friends used to go up to Columbia and just sit on the campus lawn and dream about attending a school “like that”. He said he always wanted to be in an intellectual environment like that but he never made it, so seeing me was inspiring and gave him hope even at the age 52. Although I knew that graduating form a school like Columbia was a big deal to my classmates, it served as a collective source of inspiration to the masses of people in the community who had grown up like me.

The sharing of this moment with the people in the community who had been denied the opportunity, meant that much more to me. I knew that I stood on shoulders of people of Harlem from the past like Marcus Garvey, Paul Robeson, Zora Neal Hurston, James Joyce and Malcolm X who ironically would have turned 89 on May 19^th, the day of my graduation. To share my graduation with them and a host of many others was the most fulfilling reward to me. These are the very people who I fight for. They are the reason I applied to Columbia, and when I am there, not a day goes by that I don’t walk to Harlem to breathe in the air of past sacrifice and current struggle. As I looked into the eyes of the young people who were looking at me in my cap and gown, I somehow knew that the dreams they dreamt at night - the ones that seemed so distant from their reality, were a little closer as I walked with them down the streets of Harlem. I will continue to work to help the kids of Harlem and in two years I will be finishing up my PhD so I look forward to taking that walk with my people again in my Doctoral cap and gown.

Thank you Harlem though I am not from here I was embraced and celebrated as one of your own and that was an honor, and I’m so proud that you allowed me to share this walk with you. 

Richard Sherman is America’s Dream and America’s Nightmare

By Joseph Mathews

“America is the greatest country in the world!” If you are an American and have red blood running through your veins you have heard this over and over again from the time you were old enough to breathe without an umbilical cord. Growing up in the patriotic Midwestern military town, Midwest City, Oklahoma, I heard this phrase more than the average kid. Like everyone else, at a young age it was impressed and ingrained in me that everything we engage in is competition and you are supposed to be the best at whatever you do. This is and always has been the American way because “we are America”. And “If you don’t agree with how we do things over here then you should leave”. As I have listened to the national discussion going on about Richard Sherman and his now “infamous” postgame response, I find myself just as amazed (not really) at the irony and double talk of those who reacted to his response.

You see the same people who responded so strongly to Richard Sherman by calling him a “thug” and “classless”, as he spoke about how great he was after the biggest play of his life are the same people who symbolically wrap themselves in the American flag of Patriotism singing Lee Greenwood songs like “Proud to be an American” as they gloat about how great this country is, and how great they are because they’re American. This is a belief grounded in America’s obsession with competition and domination of others in every way. This widely held belief is deeply embedded into the psyche of "not all" but many kids especially those with  white privilege from the time they enter this world. They’re taught that those who excel to the top should be bestowed with riches and spoils that come along with being the best or obtaining the most through competition. One of these spoils is the “privilege“ to be extremely proud, aka arrogant, about ones accomplishments. But Sherman, who participates in football, the ultimate “competition” which is truly an American value was not afforded that same privilege and freedom to express that he believes he is a superior competitor without public backlash. Instead, he was treated the opposite of what America says it stands for.

In the context of this country’s current social construct.  Sherman embodies the idea of what being an American is more than those who are his detractors. He puts many who have a problem with him in a conundrum because he is a mirror of America and what it represents. But on the other hand, subconsciously he’s something that they desire to be, but could not quite attain - the true essence of the “American Dream”.  Richard Sherman is a tall, dark, handsome, well-built, and athletic. America has always had an obsession with beauty. He is a great athlete, and we all know America’s obsession with sports. They say “he loves media attention”. Media has always been an American obsession too. They accused him of trying to get more attention so he can get more endorsements. This country is all about endorsements. They said “he’s in it for the fame”. If that is the case, he is no different than the reality TV stars that we pay millions of dollars for doing nothing. They say “He’s in it for the money”. Last time I checked this country loves money so much, we call ourselves Capitalist and worship money more than God. Regardless of how you may feel about him, you have to admit he is the ultimate competitor, a quality that America preaches, values and ingrains into its citizens from the time of birth.  Richard Sherman saying he believes “he is the best” because of his ability to dominate others in an American made sport doesn’t make him un-American. It makes him as American as American Pie. 

There is no question that all of the qualities that Richard Sherman has been demonstrating are American values. The problem is that these qualities are great as long as they are in the hands of persons whom America views as being “fully American” aka non-African Americans. The American dream quickly becomes a nightmare when it falls into the hands of people like Sherman – someone who is young, rich, talented...and black. As the old saying goes “it’s no fun when the rabbit has the gun”. See if one is aware of history, Richards’s bravado and claims to be the best are very reminiscent of a young big mouth cocky kid name Cassius Clay – later Mohamed Ali – who eventually became a national and world wide leader.  Historically, black athletes with extreme intellect like (i.e. Mohamed Ali, Jim Brown, Paul Robeson) were considered extremely controversial and scary to the establishment and those who subscribe to the idea that the American Dream is only for a certain group of people.

The biggest problem that not all but "some" white people have with this young man is that he is the embodiment of the American dream, manifested in a black man’s body, which to many in America, is a nightmare. When he said he was the best, he was talking about being the best NFL defensive back. But those infected with the disease of white supremacy just heard a young rich black male say “he was the best” and to those who subscribe to the ideology of white supremacy those are fighting words. In any other forum, contemporaries of young Mr. Sherman from a different race with his work ethic, intellect, educational attainment and talent would be touted as being quintessentially a wholesome “all-American” kid. But it still remains true that in this country, one of America's greatest nightmares is for young black athlete's such as Sherman and others to use their influence and platforms to speak forcefully because those willing to do so may eventually start doing so against injustice and inequality. With their platforms they would have the potential to mobilize the masses of young black males who look up to them, inspiring them to begin viewing themselves in a more positive light, causing a paradigm shift in the social order. This is the reason why this young man is so polarizing. They know Richard Sherman has the potential to be that athlete. And if they neutralize and vilify him and others like him before they can execute their potential then America’s Nightmare will never come to fruition.

In closing I want to personally speak to my brethren, who may have a problem with Richard Sherman and the success he has obtained. While I don’t agree with how this country goes about creating nightmares for some so that others can have the so-called American Dream under the disguise of Capitalism, I do feel that if you’re going to subscribe to these beliefs you should go back and listen to Lee Greenwood’s song again as it says “I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free!” and ask if this was meant for all of us or just for some? So don’t be jealous of Richard or others who have accomplished the American Dream without the comforts of privilege and often in the face of resistance. They have the freedom to do so just like you. And if this makes you mad, maybe you should revisit your Great American Dream hand book and re-read what you always said when you felt like you were on top and others were on the bottom:

“In this country you can become anything you want to become, because it’s the greatest country in the world and If you’re not living the America’s Dream,  just know that it’s not Americas fault, it’s your own, because you’re not working hard enough or you’re just not good enough. So go and pull yourself up by your own boot straps.”.

So y’all quit complaining about Richard Sherman and calling him names and go out there and work as hard as he did to get what he has. It’s all about competition - the American way remember?

“And if you don’t agree with how we do things over here then you should leave.” 

Please check out Mr. Lee Greenwoods song "Proud to be an American" being played at a Football game below:

 

Thug is the New "N" Word: The Criminalization of Richard Sherman and Black Youth

by Joseph Mathews

Thug - a tough and violent man; a criminal

It wasn't five minutes after I posted my thoughts on Facebook that many of my white childhood Facebook friends went in one me about him. Their comments were so full of hate I had to rewind my TiVo to make sure that I had not missed something, like him shooting or stabbing another player. As I began reminiscing about what it was like to be black and playing sports while growing up in Oklahoma, this country’s most conservative and what many would argue one of the most racist states in America, my memories were haunting. I have seen more than my share of young black males killed, incarcerated, discriminated against, harassed and criminalized in the name of being a thug, including myself. And the comments being made on my page represented the larger narrative going on simultaneously around the country and the feeling of many people in very low and high places.

Man! Richard I wish you would have told them that you graduated 2nd in your class from a high school in Compton and went to Stanford where you graduated with a 3.9 GPA! I wish you would have told them you were working on your Masters Degree! I wish you would have told them that you were not a thug but a hero to your hood because despite the odds, you accomplished your dreams! This is what I was thinking they should have had him saying as I sat in front of my TV and watched the Beats by Dre Head Phones commercial that set the stage for what was about to transpire around the country. During the NFC championship game between the Seattle Seahawks and the San Francisco 49ers, as the reporter on the commercial said to him “what do you think of being known as a thug around the league?" I shook my head as he just put his head phones on, because I knew what was coming. NFL defensive back Richard Sherman’s character was about to be assassinated, he was about to become the latest victim of the dreaded New N-Word “Thug”.

The racist venom reached a fever pitch after he gave the post-game interview. I watched as negative comment after negative comment poured in - every last one of them questioning his character and calling him every name in the book, stopping just short of calling him the “N” word. But the foundation had already been laid. They could not get away with calling him a no good “N” but they could get away with calling him a no good “Thug” which was the word of choice being used to characterize him nationally. Unlike the painful racially charged N-Word, which carries much historical baggage, the usage of the “T” word is not publicly frowned upon at all nor is it politically incorrect and in many cases its often used as a means for justifying the mistreatment and criminalization of black youth.

This guilty by characterization and classification mindset has been at the center of many recent racial controversies that have resulted in those who committed acts of violence against unarmed black youth being free to walk away, because in death the victim’s character was put on trial, and in life they were all found guilty of being thugs, which in the court of public opinion is punishable by death. You see no one really cares about what happens to kids that are not fully viewed as human beings, who are guilty of something. But I think it would be an insult to the intelligence of those who now know Richard Sherman’s background and continue to call him a thug. Because I truly believe that they believe he is not a thug. They know exactly what they are saying and where their hearts truly are. They understand very well that people are treated like they are viewed, and that historically the practice of stripping away young black males humanity, through giving them names that automatically cast a shadow of guilt and suspicion over them makes them more susceptible to harassment and discriminatory practices. Now that the word thug has taken on a new meaning, white folks who now call black kids thugs and young men like Richard Sherman thugs are really saying we don’t care how smart and educated you are, how much money you make, or how great you are at doing something we love, we still hate you and you're still a “N". We'll just change the word to thug.

The indiscriminate labeling of black males as thugs has created an atmosphere of disdain and insensitivity and has made them targets of crime with very slim chances that they will get justice, compassion and least of all protection under the law. In the name of neutralizing so-called thugs, police have been allowed to shoot and kill unarmed black men like Oscar Grant and trigger happy citizens have been allowed to get away with with murdering unarmed children like Trayvon Martin.

The reality is that most people who subscribe to this white supremacist ideology don't believe that Richard Sherman is a thug, but they do want him to be guilty of something because that would reinforce the negative raciest stereotypes of young black males that they hold onto to feel better about themselves. Richard Sherman is not guilty of being a thug. He is guilty of being something much more dangerous. He's guilty of making certain white people uncomfortable. He is young, black, rich, educated, and cocky, feels he is the best, and is the best at what he does. But worst of all he is not afraid to let the world know. That is why in many ways Richard Sherman simultaneously represents the American dream and the American nightmare. He has the bravado, drive, and leadership abilities that are often touted as quintessentially American BUT one of America's greatest fears is for one of its black athlete's (i.e. Mohamed Ali, Jim Brown, Paul Robeson ) to use their influence and platform to speak out against injustice and inequality. Richard Sherman has the potential to be that athlete. If they neutralize him with the "T" word before he recognizes his true potential then their fears will be put to rest - for now. So be careful not to think too much of yourself or you might be the next “N” Word, I mean thug.