INTRODUCTION: BUILDING THE BRIDGE
August 27, 1987
God has given me insight that this date will forever mean more than just the day I made my arrival into this world. This date has led me to not only appreciate what movements came before me, but to also share in the experiences, frustrations, and battles that seem evidently unfinished in pursuing true equality and peace for not just blacks in America, but for every culture who is struggling with the levels of progress in these regards. Although I am old enough to soak up and identify with the history of black pride, achievement, and progress we have made, I am also young enough to feel the pain of a young generation. A young generation who feels as if those movements from prior generations at times feel purely like “fool’s gold”, which seems like a gift and a curse at times. Sometimes it feels like there is a fine line between being the proud children of those who have fought to open doors for us, and feeling like the offspring of a people that have taken small steps toward the fruition of true equality.
As I look back on our history as a young black male, observing how we have continuously and vigorously fought inequality and segregation in America, nothing has pierced my soul more than the disconnection that has been created between the generations that groomed us with the generation of today and those to come. As the loss of spiritual and moral connection between my generations and the ones before us seems to deepen more and more daily, no side can actually look as if one has failed the other, but must mutually get to the core of the problem that has led to this division within our culture.
When I look back and think about the struggles that our predecessors have fought and overcame, it is synonymous to a bridge being built over troubled waters. I am grateful for work that has been accomplished by those who fought and died in pursuit of achieving true equality on this earth for our people. To me, it represents getting the necessary tools and plans necessary to build a bridge to get from one destination to another that would seem impossible without them. One cannot just walk or drive physically over a huge body of water to get to the other side, and furthermore, the bridge that is built must be effectively constructed with lots of care. As I look back on every piece of stone, concrete, and steel that was set in place to build the bridge toward true liberation and equality. The names of Frederick Douglass, Harriet Tubman, Nat Turner, Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, the Black Panthers, and so on comes to mind, and I cannot help but to feel great connection and pride of knowing those characteristics innately run through my veins.
As those that came before us fought and gave their life to change things in America, to give their children the chance to fight harder and accomplish great things, a subtle path of division between the two is making it practically impossible to fight any other battle. I want to use this time to express my pain over the unspoken battle going on with a bridge that has all but collapsed. The spiritual, united, and triumphant bridge started from the foundation by our pioneers that once seemed unshakable and inspiring for ensuing generations now seems as if the earthquakes, fires, and accidents encountered have made it unrepairable.
The damage to this bridge of spirituality and bonding between my generation and our ancestors, specifically the great-grandparents, grandparents, and parents seems to be the Goliath that we must overcome before we even continue to try and knock down the barriers of inequality and predispositions that we face on this earth.
At this point in time, it seems as if the generations of today express the feelings of frustrations that tell our forerunners, “Your acts and movements toward equality didn’t work, so we have to do it our way, which is any way that’s different from yours.” While the older generations may look at us today with a heavy heart saying, “Everything that we fought and suffered for is being thrown away and stepped on by our children who have no grasp of what it took for them to even have these present opportunities. What deepens this division is the portrayal that today’s generation does not want to fight for or earn anything, but instead would rather seek all shortcuts and immediate gratification without achieving collective progress and success through faith, hope, and sacrifice.
When I think of this damaged bridge and the progress that has been made, the word seared is what speaks to my soul and frustration as I reflect on how far we have come. Seared reflects more than just something that is scorched. It means to dry out, dehydrate, wither, and harden. That is how I view the progress that has been made. It seemed to be something moving in the direction of true equality and the extinction of hate and division for our people, but now it seems like a burned out, dehydrated struggle just hanging on. As I read the antonyms for seared that represent bloom, moisten, and to grow, it confirmed exactly why seared was pierced into my mind. It seems like we are all stuck pondering on what’s the next best approach to do in attaining equality and fair life for every soul.
We no longer have that true sense of the old uniting with the new for the common goal of true equality and God-given rights as human beings but have separation, the old judging the new and vice-versa. I could go on about the divisions of black America by referencing black on black crime or the foolishness of the proud black man labeling the next as a sellout and so forth. This battle that I am speaking on refers to magnifying the damage of the spiritual foundation that is evident between the past and the present. This same spiritual foundation that endured a load of obstacles to get us to this point and another level seems very tainted now. This is the same spiritual foundation that has reared our young generations to overcome whatever is thrown at us through the connection with the Higher Power. This is the same spiritual foundation that originally gave us the strength to endure the injustices, inequalities, and hatred we all face. The built foundation that God is in control and will fight our battles for us while we strive for righteousness and dignity seems to be the only way towards true victory. Somewhere along that road towards the building of this bridge, my generation has shared some of those same injustices, inequalities, and hatred we were told didn’t exist anymore. This has led us to question if it is really worth it to carry out old traditions that seems to not have as much power in this day and age.
The genuine spirit of self-love, self-pride, self-worth, inner strength, self-determination, hope, faith, and ambition geared the start of building the foundation of spiritual bonding toward true freedom and equality. Those foundational characteristics have been passed on to following generations past and present. As we have repeatedly taken devastating blows living in today’s times, this foundation has been tested daily, beaten, and worn down. Those traits previously stated have been overshadowed by self-hate, hopelessness, lack of self-worth, faithlessness, lack of ambition, and self-destruction.
Now as we go on with our daily lives, momentarily getting upset when tragedy strikes as reminders of the system we face, we must get to the core of what is now another bump in the road toward black unity. I cannot separate the two, as both collectively are means that hinder the progress of constructing this bridge of equality, love, and success for every God-given life. It is so easy to magnify blacks killing blacks, but my soul is also grieved over what has become lost between those that have paved the way for us and those who are so frustrated and hurt that we don’t necessarily know what to do with the torch that was passed down to us.
My very inspiration for writing this book has been feeling the pain of that young little boy who is proud of our history and how far we have come against inequality and injustice, blended with the pain of a generation that has been shown that we are still looked at as less than human still today at times. The very source that is the cause of our frustration, division, destruction, and regression in regards to our generations spiritually is the pain of seeing battles fought that were won and lost, the deaths of innocent people/leaders, and being treated inhumanely. Those very types of events that should have made us more of a tight-knit bunch seem to have made us some sort of distant relatives.
As I look back on our history and the monumental movements that were started by strong, powerful black men and women in the past, I can’t help but visualize them now. I see them as architects and construction workers laying the groundwork using their tools to start the building of a bridge to get us over to the new state of true freedom. I say bridge to depict the notion that we still have a long way to go as if we are building a bridge to heaven. Whatever state of movement we are in as the new generation holding the baton, we have to look back at the qualities possessed by those pioneers that formed the spiritual foundation of black self-pride and worth. While we were working collectively on our bridge toward true liberation, the supporting force between ourselves, the connection between the predecessors and successors has broken.
From slavery to segregation to lynching’s, black men and women always looked past their surroundings and realized their self-worth and self-pride even when their situation was trying to convince them otherwise. From being beaten and sold as property to being raped, hung, and assassinated, our ancestors and leaders looked deep down inside and were determined that nothing could break them or take away their self-worth. They knew that there was a higher power and that the fight within them was immeasurable. As long as these were on their side, there was no battle or obstacle that could not be overcome. Nothing seemed impossible, and nothing ever would be. Nothing is everlasting or invincible except God himself, and all sufferings were only temporary no matter how long they seemed which geared the faith to fight for something worth dying for in order to give future generations something to strive better for.
Since the times of slavery to the times of having police blasting peaceful marchers with water hoses and being attacked by police dogs, I could still look at those times and feel that those same people saw the true king and queen within themselves, not the animals they were told they were. As I was taught our history from the generations that raised me and even in school, there was one thing that I knew, and it was that those courageous pioneers could not do it without the spirit inside that mirrored the God in them. The belief that we are not just mortal beings, but beautiful souls who are to stay in touch with our God, our Creator at all times, that we should never let this perishable world get the best of us.
Though I am speaking as a young Black male who was raised in the Baptist-Christian church, I was just as proud of our Muslim leaders who stressed the royalty we come from. I will explore more of the difference in religion later, but I want to acknowledge the main book, the Bible and spiritual songs that were used as tools by leaders during the slave movements and leaders during the Civil Rights era and so on.
The connection of the Bible and those spiritual songs emphasized not only ways of meditation and speak during unsettling times, but also stresses the culmination of Jesus Christ being the Lord and Savior that will be the way to Heaven, eternal life after the exhausting, mortal life lived here on earth. The foundation that Jesus Christ is the only peace amongst those who are treated spitefully was emphasized by a lot of our leaders through Christianity. He was the only way for us to not only love ourselves but to love everyone— family, strangers, and enemies more than we love ourselves, which would eventually lead to true peace. It was those principles that came into teachings that the more we do this, the more power, unity, and bonding all races would have.
I don’t want to just emphasize Christianity and Jesus Christ as the main gateway to that self-love because I have seen that same self-love and pride in other religions, which have bred many great leaders. I am just speaking as that young boy who not only grew up in the setting of these beliefs but also as the boy who throughout history has seen some of our greatest leaders emphasize their beliefs and hope in Jesus Christ. I stress this as a result of most of my generation today, the black culture and the youth, have been bred in Christian homes and churches due to our great-great grandparents, grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts, etc.
In regards to the black community and neighborhoods, from the generations before me, to mines and the ones after me, there was always the routine of going to church every Sunday singing songs, praying, and listening to the preacher. Faith was always the number one principle believing that Jesus is the Son of God and the only way to eternal life. {To rejoice and be glad that we still have life and that we can overcome anything while we strive to live right and do the right things.}
This foundation has taught us that no matter how bad the world is or how dark life may seem, we will overcome and be victorious if we believe and that we could move mountains while pushing through our mistakes and shortcomings. We were brought up to be faithful and pay our tithes every Sunday in route to receiving that overflowing blessing that would come right on time. We learned of the unconditional love that our Creator has for us, the plans of success he has for us, and how to be Christ-like since we all are indeed little gods and goddesses. We were reared to always respect our elders and hold them in the highest regard while striving to put our stamp on the world in positive ways. It was taught that religion is the only way to achieve these things while seeking true peace. We were brought up to carry ourselves in the highest regard, to hold our heads up with pride, to speak with dignity and manners, and to present ourselves as someone who wanted to be respected and admired. We were brought up in Christian homes and churches to know that it is not always how much we have but how we maintain and get through those tough times of not having much.
As I look back on some of those principles, I remember the strong connection and bonding with those generations that go back as far as my great-grandmothers with that of my brothers and myself. I felt proud to be under these strong, positive, and upright black men and women. I truly saw them as role models and now know they were proud of us back then before we even accomplished anything. They believed in us and our potential as young gods and goddesses while displaying what it meant to be Christ-like. The connection was still strong between generations at that time, the church was always packed full, and the highlight of the start of a new week for adults and children. There was rarely any talks of scandal in the black church that drowned the media, great, genuine leadership, and the traditional routines that go on in the church always seemed to electrify us no matter how many times we heard or seen something in the program. We felt the pride of knowing that someday we would be carrying the torch spiritually and mentally for these great role models that were teaching us the importance of self-love and not only black pride but self-pride.
We were taught to keep our heads to the sky and focus on Jesus no matter how corrupt, or sick the world may be. We were taught to be the light in a dark world, the salt of the earth no matter what injustices and cruelties we may face as a people. We were taught to change the world and not let the world change you through the strength of Christ Jesus, the Son of God the Father and Creator. We also believed that as we grew in these principles, that we as a people would make incredible strides and progress toward actually being looked at as equal and that we could do whatever the dominant race who frowned upon us could do but better.
We were taught to walk upright with honor and pride because we have come a long way and that we are black and beautiful. No matter if you were poor, broke, just getting by, or living paycheck to paycheck we were taught to count our blessings and be thankful because better times are ahead. As the young black children growing up in these surroundings, we believed that for a very long time. We believed that everything would just be all right, that things are actually changing, and that we were on our way to being treated as equals in this world. We believed that it is okay to be content with stagnation as long as our hearts, mind, and soul were in tune with what the Bible said.
Self-love and pride have turned to self-indifference. Black church scandals, police brutality and killings in the black community, and negative images of blacks in media all contribute. Worse are the conditions that young and old blacks have to endure daily. We witness our older faithful servants of the Lord suffer and struggling to make ends meet. This has led to some straying from the church. This has led to our spiritual foundation representing a bridge that is damn near in a collapsed state. This makes me examine the factors that can make a bridge collapse.
