Reflections: Mr. President Obama

Could this be true? America has a Black president

There is an emotional catch in my throat as I look and listen to all the commentaries and analyses, historical comparisons to Abraham Lincoln, Franklin Delanor Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, who was spot on when he said the U.S. would have an African-American president in 40 years; and Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., who suggested a Black president in about 25 years, and contemporary parallels: the economic crises with Bank of America needing money to help them stay afloat; the three automotive industry giants needing money to keep more than half a million employees and subsidiary concerns, two of them forecasting being unable to stay in business come March; the second half of the promised $750 billion appropriated as a financial bailout of the finance sector: people are asking where has the first half gone, has it evaporated?There is no evidence financial institutions have resumed inter-bank lending, that businesses have been getting the advance credit they need to operate and produce, and an average 500,000 homes per month are going into foreclosure, there has been no mortgage renegotiation.

In recent days, there has been no mention of the issue of immigration. It was touching indeed to see his paternal grandmother who traveled from Kenya sharing the dais. Obama himself knew that without the strong support of the Hispanic community, who had grown to despise the Bush administration for the draconian immigration policies and renditions, the Berlin-like wall along the border between Mexico and the U.S.; that he would not have won.

Looking at television close up shots of the faces of people who had gathered on the National Mall, many men and women whose eyes welled with tears, many women their mascara running – haven’t they heard of waterproof mascara, or for many for whom the tears brim over their eye lids, like the waters of Lake Pontchartrain cresting the banks of the levees and inundating the basin below – sliding down their cheeks? Tears which hold not just the salt from their bodies, but the expectations commingled with longing, for all those who are Black in America, who struggled and endured ignominies and humiliations of every kind, yet did not live to see this day, when a Black man is president. The tears flow as many think of those Blacks who still endure slave like conditions, whose lives are inextricably bound to their white counterparts, and who dare not murmur a word or breathe a sigh of discontent or disagreement for fear of a disengagement or termination, which would reduce them to penury.

In a commentary on the eve of the Inauguration on BBC America’s Notes to Obama, national poet Maya Angelou said that she was not presenting a poem, she was presenting ruminations or reflections of what an Obama presidency means to and for her. She said that while the nation needs him, it is he who needs us more.

“We need him, the race needs him, the banks need him, and the economy needs him. He brought to us something we cannot live without, hope. He offers us the chance to have a great president, with whom we can identify, not as a Black president, but a president who would speak for the voiceless, for the poor black, poor white and for the disadvantaged Hispanic person.

I believe he needs us more than we need him. I believe that each of us has to do something more. I believe that we Americans deserve the most we can get. I will work alongside being of use and I will look for you working alongside, being of use,” she said.

During the Inauguration, when Obama took the oat of office, was there a hint of petty vindictiveness and partisanship, even subtle racism? Could it be that because Obama opposed John Roberts’ confirmation as Chief Justice, that Roberts felt to get back at Obama, to fumbled the words of the oat of office while the world looked on, as if to remind the President that he is still subject to the White establishment? Roberts’ subsequent apologies to the President, even re-administering the oat of office, have only highlighted the shadow of incompetence of the Bush administration, but which with tiny wisps and tendrils are trying to reach out to contaminate the new administration. What a mark on an historic and memorable day. Did anyone see the television close up of Obama’s expression during the fumbling? No doubt if it hadn’t been re-administered, constitutional lawyers would have had a field day on the legitimacy of the President.

As he promised, Obama has issued executive orders closing Guantanamo Bay within a year, which while keeping a campaign promise to the American people and assuaging the Islamic world, opens up other problems: reports suggest that some of the detainees would be brought at imprisoned at Levanworth prisons, which is on U.S. soil and places the detainees under the dictates of the Constitution: is there justification to holding them, how are the rules of evidence applied and exercised, what proof is there of involvement or collusion, except for some of the 250 detainees, who were held on hearsay or suspicion, and what about the Patriot’s Act? He has also ordered troops home within 16 months, and outlawed torture.

Reflections: Obama, a President

Interregnum: the between time

Obama, should remember only too well the Roman observation: how fickle the populace of Rome – who briefly rejoiced in the victories of Pompeii and before the last sound of praise could be heard in his honor, turned against and reviled him. If he cannot deliver on the promises, like every politician before him, he has made, he would be hounded out of office in infamy. He is a lawyer and like all of his profession, he has over the last several weeks, since the elections, when the campaigning was over and he became starkly aware that his rhetoric had now to become practical, began to cover himself with a disclaimer. Not wanting to seem as though he has stepped away from his promises of change, he has begun to temper the expectations he created in the people of what HE would do. In the later days of the interregnum, he has changed his tune, repeatedly he has cautioned that in the first 100 days of his administration, he may not be able to meet all the expectations people have of him, not that he has created in a people thirsty and desperate for a new American direction, and more importantly, being able to fulfill the promises he made to win; admitting to the possibility of making mistakes and missteps. His electoral victory was a demonstration of who could fool all of the people better; everyone saw through Sen. John McCain’s weak political strategies and rejected his posturing as a continuation of a Republican party steeped in the corrupt machinery born and developed since the Regan presidential era.

Many Black leaders, after the euphoria of the electoral victory and the prospect of a Black president in the White House had worn off, have admitted that he cannot achieve and accomplish all he promised. They recognized that they were fooled, but preferred to abandon their righteous anger of being deceived by one of their own, to celebrating the accomplishment of one of their kind; as opposed to the anger if John McCain would have won. Can anyone imagine what would have been the national reaction if McCain had won, the abject apathy of many Black people – many of whom would have said, “see I could’ve told you the White man would never allow a Black man to get higher,” “Did that Black man, Obama, think he is better than the Whites,” or the disgust and increased disrespect of the wider international community, who laughed at and mocked Americans for reelecting George Bush for a second term, what would they say should McCain have won the elections?

With the vapors of his electoral victory’s honeymoon quickly dissipating under the heat and starkness of the light of people looking for satisfaction, Obama has acknowledged that closing Guantanamo Bay may not be as immediate as he first thought, it would take the better part of the year. Why, this new administration has to find a way to either bring the inmates to a fair trial – grounds which so far are dubious – or to export them to other countries, many of whom the outgoing administration was looking for help, and as recent reports revealed, many stalled on committing to the Bush administration, but have now agreed to accept prisoners; he won’t be able to bring the troops home from Iraq as soon as he had originally planned, because now the Iraqi government has locked the Americans in a contract binding their presence up into 2011, yet some battalions may be withdrawn; there is doubt in Congress, where once he felt he was confident in bipartisan support, about passing his proposed $850 billion economic stimulus package, which has raised fears of at least a $2 trillion budget deficit, which would be visited on the next two generations; but held true to his word he would make torture illegal for the armed services.

Reflections: Obama – A President

Election: hope and change mantra

As the celebrations from the night, when it was announced that Sen. Barack Obama, by majority of the electoral college and later confirmed by pronouncement by the combined houses of the legislature, had won the elections and was named President-elect, had given way to the stark reality of daylight, in Washington Heights trees lining the streets were festooned with toilet paper hanging from branches as if it was the morning after a festival, presenting a surreal image as if New Years had arrived early on November 5.

In a country steeped in racism, both subtle and overt, what really does an Obama win actually mean for Americans: Native Americans, Blacks, Hispanics, Asians and Whites? What did his win against a weakened religious conservative political right mean for immigrants, those from Central and South America, from the Caribbean, from Africa, from Asia, minor and major?

Did the White majority in the country say that by electing a Black man as president that they have moved pass the bigotry for which they are known, that they now recognize that Black people are capable of thinking, of governing, of being responsible and are not lazy, lay-abouts, welfare dependents? Is the White establishment now saying that they are willing to take orders from a Black man, consoling themselves by the fact that the president is half Black and half White, and that they had in fact voted for his White half?

As a friend, Clarence Reynolds, a book editor and an English professor at Brooklyn College in Brooklyn said while watching the results come in from across the country that he felt overwhelmed by the experience that here is a Black man becoming president of the United States.

“I’m excited that this will change the psyche, the way people think, the way they see themselves and the way they are perceived. For Black people, this would give them an opportunity to rethink their attitude and a newness of pride in themselves, to at least pull their pants up,” he said.

Since bursting on the national stage at the Democratic National Convention in 2004, his star has continued its meteoric rise. Large crowds have followed him since he declared, speaking to both whites and Blacks, in a statement that single handedly removed the stigma attached to educated Blacks and challenged the perception that only whites are educated – that a Black child reading is not acting white. Obama’s charisma has drawn crowds, from the time of his announcement that he was putting himself forward as a candidate for the presidency in Springfield, IL, to his acceptance speech in Denver, CO and to his gracious victory speech in Grant Park, Chicago, IL on the night of November 4.

Everyone agrees that not only is the country eager and desperate for a change, but a startling phenomena is the perceptible shift in the American attention span: more than 83 million people watched his acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention at the Mile High Stadium in Denver, CO, millions watched on their televisions and an estimated 125,000 people crammed into Grant Park to hear his victory speech, which was not as gloating as one would have expected from a contest that celebrated negativity, divisiveness, and attacks ad hominim; but was magnanimous and conciliatory, saying that those who did not vote or support him should know that change has come to America. And, for Americans known for their sensationalist mentality, Obama has not faded into the background of politics as usual. Rather, on Sunday, November 16 an estimated 24 million viewers looked on as he was interviewed by Steve Croft on the CBS Sunday magazine, 60 Minutes. Surprising too, as Gwen Ifill commented in the Newshour on PBS on the following Monday evening, that contrary to the politics as usual where politicians are known to shift or change their messages in the interregnum, after they are elected and sworn in, that Obama has remained true to his campaign messages and reinforced them in intended executive orders: an uncompromising stance on closing the U.S. military base at Guantanamo in Cuba, forbidding torture as a U.S. military practice so as to restore America’s morality on the global stage, and his withdrawal of U.S. troops from Iraq.

Puzzling, however, is why he chose not to attend the global leadership summit held in Washington, D.C. over the weekend of November 14 – 16? As usual there would be speculations, but interestingly enough, none of the main news outlets have ventured to comment on his absence except for brief mentions that he would not be attending. Is it that he wanted to ensure that when he contacts those heads of state that his interaction is free of the blight and the dross of the incumbent, soon to be former president? Was the meeting just simply window dressing, since even in the communiqué produced by the 20 heads of state, no decisions were made until when they meet again in April and by which time Obama would be present? By not attending the G-20 summit, did Obama miss out on an opportunity to meet his major global counterparts, or did he prefer not to seen in George Bush’s embarrassing shadow?

According to Neil Ferguson being interviewed by Matt Frei on BBC World News-America on Monday, November 17, alluding to Obama’s absence from the G-20 summit not being particularly helpful, he said that with the global economy in crisis and with a protracted American transition period, the world needs immediate action and intervention, and everyone was looking to Obama to pick up the reigns of leadership. Ferguson said that Bush’s comments at a speech on Wall Street in New York on Friday, November 14, where he spoke of support for a “free market system” literally sounded a death knell for that system, and suggested that anything Bush touched turns to ashes.

If this was truly a more global village, how many people from around the world would have joined lines, like Americans did on Election Day, to exercise their vote, their democratic right, and perhaps, the fact that they want to vote is a cry from the hearts of those many who long for the winds of democracy to blow in and through their respective countries? But what responsibilities does Obama have to the rest of the world?

No doubt Obama knows that is he bound by the shackles of his race, his paternal ancestry in Kenya, who are looking to him to make changes, as if he is the American representative of Africa in America, of those who in America claim association with him because of his skin color to lift them up not so much with a wave of his hand, but more of doing what he promised, after he himself has witnessed and experienced the suffering, downtrodden state, and systematic disenfranchisement of those like him in America; he has the sword of Damocles hanging over his head, a sword of extraordinary expectations from a nation and a world tired of duplicity and forked-tongue speaking, where promises are made with ulterior motives, brazen as they are revealing that they weren’t made in the best interest of those to whom they were made, and though he has good intentions, he would be beset by a machinery that has been grinding inexorably for more than 20 years, producing in the nation’s capital corruption, deceit, and secrecy. Really, rot at the core. And, as he assumes office, he himself would be stepping into this mire. The hope, a word which he has been trumpeting throughout his campaign, is that he would not be sucked into and be consumed by the god-like or quasi-monarchial status conferred on a president, but rise above it, perhaps hovering over the muck, to effect change, another word in his campaign mantra.

Experiencing a Food Pantry, is it for me?

I stood on the uptown platform on Christmas Eve afternoon with two food-laden blue plastic bags waiting for the #1 train to arrive. Two women I recognized as being where I had just left, came toward me, heads bent and with bags hanging from each of their hands, their blue bags encased in upscale shopping bags, hiding the fact that they had just come from one of the city’s food pantries on the Upper West Side, where they were able to get raw packaged and canned food supplies to take home to their families. A thought flashed through my mind, in these days, what is it to be ashamed of if a person has to go to a food pantry for assistance and to augment their food stocks? It is necessary to get food where ever one can, with out too much hassle or cost.

This experience may seem mundane or ordinary to some, and to others, unusual, as it undoubtedly was for me. But when I considered the recent announcement by New York Governor David Patterson that he would make available $1 million to assist food pantries in the state, then the idea of going to a food pantry didn’t seem all together too much of a issue, except it would if I put pride before my stomach.

With economic constraints around the city hitting non-profit organizations, the governor’s announcement may be welcome news to those non-profit organizations with food pantries who have seen a significant drop in donations from individuals, other organizations and corporations; some may complain it’s not enough to provide for the burgeoning number of unemployed or under paid people seeking help with basic food, and some may not be able to accept it, because they no longer have pantries. But I wonder, with hundreds of food pantries in existence and many more organizations starting them as a social response, akin to the era of soup kitchens, but with less overhead and operational commitment; how much out of the $1million would any food pantry statewide receive to effectively stave off people clamoring for help and facing empty shelves? In this experience, I realized, that whether or not a person was employed, accessing the services of a food pantry is not restricted to the unemployed, but is equally available to those whose income makes it necessary for them to find other means of supplementing their food; putting pride or social status aside in the interest of obtaining food, especially if its free.

Rewinding to about an hour and a half before I stood on the uptown subway platform, at about 12:30 pm, I had followed a suggestion from one of my friends and headed downtown to the food pantry to see if I could get help with food. Taking the #1 train from my stop at 168^th Street, I disembarked from the downtown #1 train at the 86^th Street and Broadway stop, walked west to the corner of West End Avenue to the church of St. Paul and St. Andrew.

I walked resolutely through the misty rain, tiny drops of water falling from an overcast sky, remnants of ice and snow littered the sidewalk. I approached the wrought iron green-painted box like enclosure with steel steps leading down to a basement under the massive concrete structure of the church where a young Latina woman was closing the gate after escorting another woman out. When I enquired about the food pantry, she replied that the pantry was closed for lunch, from noon to 1:00pm and suggested that if I wanted pantry services, I could wait inside the church. A sign connected to the wire meshing detailed the pantry’s hours of operation, Monday to Friday, 8:30 am to 12:00, and 1:00pm to 3:00pm.

As I had no umbrella, and my only protection against the December cold and rain was a wool hat and a pea coat, I took the young lady’s advice and sought shelter in the church. When I entered the building through a side door, I felt as if I was suddenly transported to another place: inside the shadows seemed darker and deeper, and the silence noticeable. Where was anyone, I asked myself? Wandering around unhindered, I found myself in the church, proper; I had in fact entered into a vestibule cum office or reception area. The church seemed cavernous, its pews were aligned at a slight angle, not the traditional straight forward looking to the front set-up, but a semblance of a semi-circle, as if embracing the vacant sanctuary ahead. Above in the darker gloom of the church’s barrel vaulted ceiling, the occasional patches of white revealed where the darkened, sooth stained paint had peeled, and over the sanctuary was a large gray banner with black letters speaking to harmony existing between brothers and sisters. The yellow or gold stained glass windows that lined the walls, in three rows at differing heights, all bore similar generic patterns at each level, but which in themselves were devoid of character, except one, which showed a man kneeling before another who was seated throne like, and carried a plate below crediting the family who donated it to the church.

When the time arrived, I ventured out of the church’s warmth and protective gloom into the rain, and walked to the green painted steel steps, descended and through a door, entered into a vast hall. Pausing mid stride, I looked around, oriented myself, my senses attuned, observing, analyzing and processing this new experience. At a table in front of an opening which led to an office, a woman stood there as if guarding the objects on the table, which were a sheet that clients sign and a stack of clip boards with application forms with bank styled chain-attached pens affixed to the metallic clasp. I asked the woman, who struggled to speak and be understood in English, what to do as a first timer to the pantry. She pointed to a sheet of paper, said I had to sign in and then handed me an application on a clip board. The application itself asked questions which included, race, social security number, date of birth, income, employment status, and so on. I thought, the only thing missing from this application is a box to tick off that I was willing to provide a specimen for DNA and that with the social security number and date of birth, as well as name, address and phone number, I may as well be giving away my identity for the sake of food.

After I’d completed the application, writing on the social security line a bold N/A, not applicable, I waited for a short moment and was invited by another Latina woman to sit in a chair in front of a desk, where she proceeded to conduct an interview. Before she began, I was asked to sign my name on another sheet of paper, which she explained was to log the clients seen by a counselor. I never knew what was the purpose of signing my name on the first sheet of paper, perhaps that was also a log to count the number of people who had entered the pantry, and perhaps the two log signings was to see if there were any discrepancies, between the clients who had come to the pantry and those who had actually entered the pantry.

The counselor mentioned that the information on the application was not shared with anyone, but was used by the organization for statistical purposes, to determine the number of clients, and to assist with coordinating the food supply. What became apparent by the end of the interview, was that the counselor simply wanted to verify that the person sitting before her was the same person who filled out the application for assistance. Not once during the interview did she look at the form, but asked questions that were already asked and answered on the form, boxes ticked off and lines written on, such as what was my apartment number, my date of birth and if I had completed college and possessed a four-year degree. Then she asked if I had medical insurance and if not, would I be interested in a hospital offering low rates, at which suggestion I added that I didn’t want another bill. But thought to myself, who was she kidding? A low cost hospital in New York City? I wondered what this organization was getting in return for the hospital referrals.

When she was finished with the interview, she reached over to a side of her desk and selected a plastic badge holder with a blue sheet of paper on which was printed a shopping list, of sorts, where instead of prices, there were points alongside the items. As briefly as possible, the Latina counselor explained what little she knew of the pantry’s food points system, as in what form are the vegetables, canned or loose, and what quantity constitutes how many points, questions she couldn’t answer, but referred me to one of the attendants in the pantry, and told me that I was only able access the pantry’s services once a month. It also occurred to me that there were different color lists for families of different sizes; one woman had a yellow paper list, which allowed her to collect food for her and her family of three, and another had a green papered badge, which allowed her different food allotments.

The actual pantry was a study in independence. This was a pantry unlike others with which I was familiar, where you are handed a plastic shopping bag with food the distributing organization thinks you should have. Here, clients entered a large room containing metallic shelves laden with packaged and canned food, a loose vegetable area, and two large upright glass sliding door cooler, one containing dairy products and the other with various types of meat. On one side of the pantry were glass panels, where anyone in the pantry area could clearly be seen and monitored by the staff from the outside. Based on the plastic badge colored paper shopping list, a client selected what he or she wanted from the shelves.

Being a novice to this experience, one of the pantry’s attendants accompanied and assisted me in choosing items from the list that were on the shelves. When he saw I had understood the system, he left me to continue selecting, but hovered behind me to ensure I had really got the hang of the pantry. Because I was a single man, my shopping list was blue, only allowing food for one person. According to the list, I could only get three cans or three pounds vegetables worth three points; two one pint bags of rice and a box or oats, worth three points; dairy, meat, and fruit, one point each. I was allowed to have pasta, but on a shelf was a single box of spaghetti, which I reached for, but quickly retracted my hand. The box had been opened. The attendant assured me that it was okay, but when he saw my hesitation, he said I didn’t have to take it and that the staff would put the box of opened spaghetti in a plastic bag, tie the top, and place it back on the shelf where someone else would take it. I looked at him in horror, thanked him for his help and turned away.

While I was selecting food items from the shelves, I checked the ingredients of many of the canned foods for mono sodium glutamate, MSG, or other types of preservatives. I was determined to scrutinize each can to ensure that, not because I was getting free food, I had to have unhealthy food. I looked at one can of tomato sauce and noticed that there was a supermarket price label on it. It occurred to me that for many food pantries around the city, when they have reached below their established threshold level of food, donated, they actually go out and buy food from supermarkets to augment their stocks.

When I had completed my selections, I arrived at a long aluminum covered table where two women, dressed in aprons, performed a simulated supermarket check-out, except there was no cash register, moving conveyer belt or card scanner. The older woman who had given me the application at the beginning was there to check me out, looking through my blue bag to ensure that I had taken my blue shopping list allotment, nothing more or less. Noticing that I was new and unfamiliar to the pantry and since it was Christmas Eve, she offered me two additional cans of Campbell’s Tomato Soup and a box of assorted herbal teas. My foray into the world of food pantries and donated food complete, I left the pantry, climbed the green metal stairs to the street and headed across Broadway to the subway entrance and to wait for the train on the uptown platform.

Thanksgiving night, Dinner and Subway ride home thoughts

(New York, NY) My sister, who was visiting from Maryland, and my nephew, who lives in New York City, had invited me to accompany them to see the Christmas Spectacular at Radio City Hall, on the eve of Thanksgiving and after to his house in Rockaway Park, Queens, to cook Thanksgiving dinner.

Though hastily contrived, sometime betwixt the hours of late Thanksgiving eve’s mad and panicked dash to the supermarket, and early the next morning, my sister-in-law, my brother, my younger nephew and his most recent girlfriend, my sister and my older nephew came together to cook for a Thanksgiving dinner far exceeded any of our expectations. From the turkey, which was baked to a golden brown color, stuffing that was so rich my sister complained it was had a trifle too much salt and was too peppery, to the collard greens with ham hocks, candied yams, carrot and ginger soup, good ole Uncle Ben’s wild rice and my nephew’s indomitable mashed Idaho potatoes, the boiled corn, the warm spiced clove and cinnamon stick apple cider, and the apple pie with sugarless, but Splenda sweetened ice cream, all washed down with glasses of red or white, heavy in sulphites, Napa Valley wines, lots of conversation and a television stuck on CNN International where there were constant flashes and reminders of the carnage in Mumbai, a world away, all juxtaposed against a backdrop of reggae music, pulsating through speakers at my older nephew’s house.

At the end of this gastronomic gourmandizing, more food than any of us had had occasion to be near in the most recent past, we departed for our respective houses: my brother, sister-in-law, younger nephew and most recent girlfriend to their apartment, my sister staying with my older nephew to head to her house the next morning, my older nephew remaining in his house and retiring to bed, to sleep off the turkey, and I to my apartment.

I was dropped off at the subway station and after a short, but seemingly interminable wait on the platform, which was surprisingly populated, I boarded a local train to make a connection to an express train at the juncture of Utica and Fulton Streets in Brooklyn. When the A train arrived, Manhattan bound, odd assortments of people embarked and disembarked as the train made its express stops through neighborhoods, yet any given time, there were no more than 16 people sharing the car I occupied.

While sitting on one of the side facing seats, two young men came into the train, one at one of the lower stops in Brooklyn, just before heading through the tunnel under the East River to Manhattan, and the other at another station, also in the riverain bordering stations. Trying to read the latest issue of the New Yorker, I glanced up took notice of them both. One sat opposite me and the other, in one of the forward facing seats across from me. As the train barreled along its tracks the young man sitting facing me reached across to ask a question of the one in the forward facing seat. Not understanding what he was saying, the forward facing passenger looked in my direction and seeing that I was interrupted from my reading by this sudden and unusual activity: speaking to a stranger on the subway, he asked me in Spanish if I understood and spoke the language and to translate what the other young man was saying. Turning to him, I asked him of his problem and he explained that he had just been evicted from the apartment where he was staying and was asking the other young man if he could spare him a dollar to help him get to someplace. Translating the request, the Spanish-only speaking young man replied that he was “broke” and didn’t have money, the begging young man looking crestfallen and disappointed, leaned his head against the glass panel separating him from the doorway and closed his eyes.

Immediately, the thought occurred to me: I’ve written recently about lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) homeless youth, and shelters like the Ali Forney Center and the planned True Colors Residence to provide permanent housing, but what to tell a homeless LGBT young person if one encounters one who is in need of shelter. Conscious of the falling temperature outside, the coldness in the air, the realization that this was Thanksgiving night, I was stumped. I racked my mind for what and where to tell this young man of a place he could go that would at least provide him with shelter, perhaps a warm place, if only for the night.

The Spanish-only speaking young man asked me where he could get a connection to the Bronx, and as I told him where he could get trains, the D or No. 4, the other young man expressed that he too was heading to the Bronx. He said that he had just moved from Philadelphia to the city to take a job which didn’t work out, his girlfriend had just thrown him out of the apartment, and he was heading to the Bronx, to a family member, with whom he hoped he could stay, at least, for the night.

My mind racing while he told his tale, I could only come up with a suggestion that if his family were unable to accommodate him, he could try calling the city’s help line, 311, and to ask about temporary shelter. The question, however, haunted me: where and what does someone who is either lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender do or go if they suddenly found themselves without a place to live?

At Broadway/Nassau Street station, both young men disembarked the train and headed for the No. 4 train. Yet, throughout these dramas, I still was able to read my magazine, until the train arrived at my station stop much further uptown.

When I arrived home, I immediately called my older nephew and my brother, answered by my sister-in-law, to tell them I had arrived safely home. Briefly, with each, we marveled at how we were able to put together a full three-course Thanksgiving meal in a less then 24 hours, reminisced and acknowledged the feeling of family we experienced and shared, how special and reinforcing it was to all of us. As a true journalist, I found the hint of a story and plan on following it, not only to see where it leads, but to provide information for the wider community.

Jonestown 30years later – what about Guyanese people?

Last evening, at 9pm EST, CNN showed a documentary that was hosted and presented by Soledad O’Brien, who did Black in America, on the 30th anniversary of the Jonestown massacre. Many of us would recall the effect and impact of this event on the Guyanese national consciousness.
Prior to Jonestown, Guyana’s impact on the world’s stage was restricted to vague references such as the Dryfus Affair, the 1963-64 race riots, and a few notable personages, such as Sir Shridat Ramphal, who was Secretary General of the Commonwealth and one of Guyana’s best scholars and representatives, and the semi-autobiographical novel of E.R. Braithwaite’s To Sir With Love.
Guyana, as we who lived through the Prime Minister-ship, Presidential turned dictatorship of L. Forbes S. Burnham era know only too well, was a country by northern hemispherical classification standards a third world underdeveloped country, that was provincial and rural, but to its Caribbean counterparts, because of the fertile land, was considered the bread basket, rated one of the highest in literacy and a steady ship of state. It was anything but bucolic. Rather Guyana was a country caught up and living in a post-colonial ideological confusion: couldn’t quite decide how to define its republic self whether as socialist or just simply anti-American and by extension to the British, anti-imperialist.
We who have lived through the evolutions of Guyana’s history, despite our present allegiances, are still proud of our heritage – our parents, close friends, the unique amalgams of African, Indian, and Amerindian foods – holding fast to gastronomic maxims such as a person who ate labba and drank creek water was bound to return, our particular lilting sing-song Creolese speech, our conversations that sound like full-scale disagreements as each of us tries to out speak the other, to make our point, and our intelligence, general knowledge and education, which placed many of us at odds against those with whom we work or attend schools; made us undeniably and identifiably Guyanese. It is a history and heritage we share to the extent that we still shudder at the memory of the 1963-64 race riots, telling ourselves that we would not ever and warning our children, against a repeat; where we cringe at the shame the recent allegations of two of our fellow Guyanese accused of plotting to blow up the John F Kennedy Airport in New York; and we shake our heads in horror at “Fineman’s” rampage through the country. We who live afar but still retain contact with our family, friends, or business associates in Guyana shake our heads uncomprehendingly at the economic state of affairs, asking ourselves: how could this be, why are prices so high, how are people making it and surviving, isn’t there a government committed to serving the people instead of their own interests, how is it that there is such a bloom and narcotic pervasiveness, which has seemed to become and support a sub-economy? These are some of the questions we ask each other and ourselves.
But have we asked what was behind the deal that Burnham made with the “Reverend” Jim Jones to lease 3,800 acres of virgin land, a turn off from the railroad that plied between Port Kaituma and Arakaka in the Kaituma region, for a commune. As rumors go, which undeniably contains a modicum of truth, Burnham received coveted U.S. dollars for allowing Jim Jones into Guyana. What really was the arrangement that not only gave Jones land in the Northwest region, but a house and land in Prashad Nagar, at the time an affluent section of northeastern Campbelville? Was there an enquiry into why did Guyana have the shame and stain of 918 deaths on its national pride? How was Guyana perceived then and how is it seen now? Guyana’s attraction to Jones was, as Burham was reported to have said after the tragedy, “he wanted to use cooperatives as the basis for the establishment of socialism, and maybe his idea of setting up a commune meshed with that,” and that coming to Guyana “would afford black members of the Temple a peaceful place to live.”
Every year, there has been some mention of Jonestown, but this year marks 30 years since the murder-suicide happened. We who live in the U.S. have witnessed the holding on to and dredging up of the memories of the past: Pearl Harbor, Jonestown, and September 11; incidentally, only those which were caused by others, and which rekindle memories and make healing and forgetting that much harder. How do we as Guyanese feel about this re-hashing of an event we would rather forget? Isn’t healing supposed to involve forgetting and allowing the past to remain in the past? While many of us know that Guyanese, in the main, had no active part in this blot on our country’s pride, are we somehow culpable by our passivity?
I could feel the bile rise in me when I listen to O’Brien recount, in a behind the scenes interview of the making of the documentary, the experience of Traci Parks, a survivor of Jonestown, who was 12 years old at the time and who returned to the area for the documentary. Parks, according to O’Brien said that as it was then, so it is now, she is still trying to wash off the oppressive heat, the sweat and the smell of Guyana from her skin. Parks speaks of the darkness and fear she experienced as she fled for her life in the jungle bordering the airstrip. Earlier this week, MSNBC carried a two-hour long presentation of Jim Jones and the Jonestown massacre.
While Guyana has come a long way since the events of Nov 18, 1978 on that turn off from the stretch of railroad between Port Kaituma and Arakaka, questions still linger. Just as in the U.S. there were investigations into what happened and who caused September 11, was there ever an enquiry by Guyanese into all that was Jonestown?

Ref: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonestown

Excerpt from Slavery of Faith by Leslie Wagner-Wilson: http://www.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/wayoflife/11/12/jonestown.wilson.excerpt/index.html?eref=rss_latest

Raven: The Untold Story of the Rev. Jim Jones and His People

Seductive Poison: A Jonestown Survivor’s Story of Life and Death in the People’s Temple

Dear People: Remembering Jonestown

Jonestown – The Life & Death of Peoples Temple

Recapturing the Black Male Image

This is the text of a speech given at the 3^rd annual men’s conference hosted and sponsored by the York College Male Initiative Program on the theme of “Recapturing the Male Image,” held on September 18, 2008 at York College, City University of New York.

The conference was organized by Jonathan Quash, director, York College Male Initiative Program and the Master of Ceremonies was Roger Scotland, president, Southern Queens Park Association. Other speakers were Dennis Rahiim Watson, president, National Black Youth Leadership Council; Alex O. Ellis, author and motivational speaker; and Minister Abdul Hafeez Muhammad, CEO, Center for Self Improvement, and Minister, Mosque No.7, Harlem, NY.

Speech:

Thank you Mr. Quash and Mr. Scotland for affording me the opportunity to speak on and examine what it means to recapture and restore not only the male image, but from a deeper level what it means to be masculine. I’d also like to express my admiration and the honor I feel in sharing a podium with Minister Kevin Mohamed, who leads a religious faith at Masjid No.7, a place I learnt about after reading of one of our most recent African-American leaders, Malcom X, Alex Ellis, whom I met in June when he was honored for his work and commitment to the uplifting of African-Americans as one of The Network Journal’s 2008 40 Under Forty Black Achievers; and to Dallas Lee Bell, who has become a close friend.

Gentlemen, there is reason enough, given the history of struggle and suffering of Black men, not only in the United States, but the world over, for us to sit here to listen to speeches on restoring the Black image and Black masculinity. This is a discussion that is long overdue, not only because many of our leaders have addressed the issue before, but with particular emphasis on the Black man’s journey forward as this century unfolds. With the US and the global economies rapidly spiraling downward, most of us are preoccupied with either preserving our jobs at all costs or doing whatever is necessary to identify solutions to the individual economic crises in our lives. I commend you who are here, because your presence says that you are interested in not only redefinitions of Black masculinity, how you can do so for yourselves.

Gentlemen, while I will attempt to highlight patterns in male behavior and examining those issues intrinsic to masculinity, I am more interested in assisting with advancing discussion of the psychological health of men, at the fundamental level, which impacts on their outlook on life, their attitude, relationships and those factors influencing their behavior, and ultimately what it means to be masculine.

Men have struggled with a multitude of issues, chief of which are challenges to their masculinity from other men, who are competing for the attentions of women and from women, whose fundamental purpose is the continuity of the species. Today men see how women are assuming more direct, up front leadership roles. As Wendy Williams speaking on 107.5 WBLS yesterday afternoon said, that men are intimidated by progressive, strong and intelligent women. In truth, women have always been in charge. Our culture and society, our literature, art, music and our life experiences are replete with examples of women actually in charge. We know of the extraordinary examples of leadership from our mothers, especially our Black mothers, who have juggled, balanced, scrimped, saved and sacrificed for their families to keep the family unit together.

BLACK WOMEN DEFINE BLACK MASCULINITY

Who better to ask about the Black male, than a Black woman?

One of the subjects of conversation at a recent post wedding lunch I attended was about how Black women defined masculinity. One woman said that Black masculinity can be seen in three distinct ways: men accepting themselves, accepting responsibility for their actions and men taking care of their children. But when asked what could Black men do to correct their image, she replied that Black men have been “let off the hook” by Black women who have made excuses for their men. Black men, she added, need to step up and take charge. She admitted that culturally, from the perspective of her parents and grandparents, especially her female lineage, that men have to be taken care of. She added that Black men need to recognize that first and foremost they will never understand women, and that men have to understand and accept that as a species, there is and will always be a tension between the two sexes.

Another woman who has been working with men in social service roles for more than 10 years said that Black men have long term trauma to deal with, which is the combination of past and recent injustices, the lack of education, and absence of mentors and support for other men in leading roles or positions in society. The male ego, she said, is a big part of their problem and it prevents men from being able to receive feedback, support and help, because, many have never been taught to be sensitive to their own emotional needs.

But, I believe that for the Black male, as opposed to any other ethnic grouping, understanding his rather weak or non-existent efforts at finding himself, he has to begin to heal from within.

DEFINITIONS OF MASCULINITY

In Robert Bly’s 1990 book “Iron John” as he examines masculinity, he puts forward succinctly that: “We are living at an important and fruitful moment now, for it is clear to men that the images of adult manhood given by popular culture are worn out; a man can no longer depend on them. By the time a man is thirty-five he knows that the images of the right man, the tough man, the true man which he received in high school do not work in life. Such a man is open to new visions of what a man is or could be.”

Bly suggests that many of the fairy tales and myths in which we find glorifications of manhood and masculinity, such as Zeus and the Greek pantheon, and the stories of Hans Christian Anderson, have lost their luster, because through our experiences we have seen them to be false, but that representations of positive leadership still do exist, as in the value of King Arthur’s influence as a mentor to young men, forming and strengthening bonds that value and celebrate masculinity, though tied to violence; and from the story of Iron John, of moving from the mother’s realm to the father’s realm. Bly states that he does not want to turn men against women or to return men to the domineering mode that has led to the repression of women and their values for centuries, as a challenge to the women’s movement. He suggests that the male movements and female movements, though related, move on separate timetables; alluding to the psychosocial damage men endured at the start of the Industrial Revolution, a grief which now cannot be ignored.

The dark side of men is clear, says Bly. Man’s mad exploration of earth’s resources, the devaluation and humiliation of women, and the obsession with tribal warfare are undeniable. And, while genetic inheritance contributes to their obsessions, culture and environment, particularly, defective mythologies that ignore the depth of masculine feelings and emotions, assign men a place on a pedestal or in the sky instead of the earth, teach obedience to wrong powers, work to keep men boys, and entangle both men and women in systems of industrial domination that exclude both matriarchy and patriarchy.

THE BLACK TOUGH GUISE

In support of Bly’s position of how under siege Black men were and are, Jackson Katz in his documentary film, Tough Guise, examines the place of men in today’s society, arguing against stereotypes and providing concrete solutions. Katz says that men often wear masks to hide their vulnerability. He suggests that the concept of real men is based on physical strength, the ability to intimidate, being a sexual stud, and being perceived as tough and strong. Any male not measuring or conforming to this narrow box defining manhood, is called a pussy, bitch, soft, girly, queer, wuss, and fag, among many names, which are also used to keep men boxed in, in those definitions. The media, too, has helped to propagate the stereotype that the definition of masculinity is the connection between being a man and being violent.

We learn from our family, friends and from the prevailing media, that men are represented in positions of dominance and control who use masks or guises to hide their insecurities. In Black communities, this is usually strong because there are very few positive images to challenge those masks and as James Baldwin said, when men can no longer love women, they also cease to love or respect or trust each other, which makes their isolation complete. Where it is impossible to have either a lover or a friend, the possibility of genuine human involvement has altogether ceased. When this possibility has ceased, so has the possibility of growth.

Statistical definitions of American masculinity show that 85 percent of all murders are committed by men and the majority of all female murders are women defending themselves from being battered. An estimated two to three million women are battered in their homes every year. It is estimated that one in four men will use violence against women in their lifetimes, 90 percent of serious violence is committed by men, 95 percent of domestic violence is committed by men, 95 percent of all dating violence is committed by teenage men, 85 to 95 percent of child sexual abuse is committed by men, and 99.8 percent of people convicted of rape in prison are men.

But, by calling attention to these problems, one is not anti-male, one is simply focusing attention on the problems plaguing the lives of men and which have been affecting us for millennia. While we acknowledge that women have made strides and progressed significantly, men are responsible for at least 24 percent of all crimes against women, and men on men crime is a staggering 76 percent. There are many men who are walking wounded, walking traumatized by violence acted out on them by other men, from bullying in schools, on the job, or on the block where they live; from their siblings, friends, family members, and notwithstanding in these numbers, thousands of boys are abused annually.

This statistical data show that large numbers of men and boys are inflicting pain and suffering on themselves and others, where most of this violence that is perpetuated is cyclical – at least 81 percent of men who commit domestic violence were either abused themselves as children or witnessed it in their homes. Dr. Jeannine Bookhardt-Murray of Harlem United, a non-profit agency here in New York City, wants the discussion of post traumatic stress disorder, PTSD, in adults who were affected by some type of trauma as children, to be increased. She suggests that in children, the effect of trauma, whether it is psychological, physical –witnessing violence or abuse, or sexual abuse; leads to a compete rewiring of that child’s neurological system and as that child grows into adulthood, their particular outlook on life is determined by that traumatic experience – they see life through the filter of whatever was their experience, taking it as normal. She’s pushing for greater treatment for adults who have come to recognize this as a particular problem that can be addressed with talk therapy, to help them realize that the way in which they see life, the choices and the decisions they make are affected by that early experience and it is not a healthy way for them to live. There have been successes in reversing the effects in child growing to adult PTSD sufferers and in adults who have themselves experienced a serious trauma. When I wrote a four part series on domestic violence, I saw the perpetuating effects of childhood abuse and trauma, and the combined attempts by Connecticut’s family and criminal courts to break that cycle.

MASKING

Masking, says psychologist Derek Hopson is that we still react to images of what we believe we are. In relationships we get caught up in presenting an image or a mask. Men want to come across as strong and confident and in control, and really tone down soft emotions. Men would rather appear powerful and capable, but in doing so, not acknowledging the common fears and hurts. Many men put on masks to act tougher and more macho when they are around a lot of people, as if they have something to prove. Little do they know, or perhaps they do know and don’t care, that everyone can see right through them, can see the facade behind which they are hiding. Isn’t that why men don’t cry, or not supposed to cry, much less in public? As Jay-Z says, “I can’t see ‘em comin down my eyes. So, I gotta make the song cry.” Or, as 50 Cent says, “After a while, it’s not acting when you have to suppress your feelings. Everybody has feelings, but there are some people who have trained themselves over time not to be out crying and doing all kinds of shit. Where someone else would cry, we replace those feelings of anxiety and get angry instead.” Many women state that when alone with one person or in an exclusive setting, their man becomes soft, revealing his vulnerability. It is our society and culture, some argue, that cause us to put on masks in order to survive in whatever peer society we are in. A direct result, however, of suiting up in the macho armor is that the person behind it is transformed into someone else who becomes entirely un-recognizeable, even to themselves; they no longer know who they are or are unable to separate the macho persona from the real person. It is in our best interest as individual men, to pull back the curtain, lift the mask and remove the tough armor, to reveal, to see not only what’s happening to the man inside, but to help him heal. Perhaps the aware man is one who is not afraid to let others see him shed tears, even if he’s on national television. Some women actually say they prefer a man who displays his emotions because not only is he in touch with himself, the feminine side, but with someone who is sensitive and can empathize with them.

BONDING -GENETICS

We know that as a species, living in isolation is not only unhealthy, but down right antisocial. As fundamentally social beings, does masking our feelings and emotions affect our inability to commit and bond with another, and is it written in our genes? A recent article in The New York Times “Bonding Gene’ Could Help Men Stay Married” by E.J. Mundell that was published in Health Day News, discussed a report issued by Swedish scientists into the male genetic predisposition toward monogamous or “husband material” behavior in men. To understand monogamy, scientists examined differences in the vasopressin 1a gene of male and female voles and discovered that variations in the gene influences activity in the male vole. This made the scientists wonder if it would be the same for men when they looked at the same gene in 552 pairs of male twins. What they discovered was that all of the men were currently in a relationship that had lasted at least five years, and 18 percent of the men had remained unmarried. The men were subjected to psychological tests assessing their ability to bond and commit. They found that men with a certain variant, known as an allele, of the vasopressin 1a gene, called 334, tended to score especially low on a standard psychological test called the Partner Bonding Scale. They were also less likely to be married than men carrying another form of the gene. And carrying two copies of the 334 allele doubled the odds that the men had undergone some sort of marital crisis (for example, the threat of divorce) over the past year.

Dr. John Lucas a clinical associate professor in the Department of Psychiatry at New York City’s Weill Cornell Medical College said that the findings made sense, because it’s well known that genes help drive much of human behavior, including mate bonding, but the vasopressin 1a gene is likely not the only factor influencing a man’s ability to form true and lasting bonds. And, it is unlikely that a single gene is the cause of an inability to maintain monogamous relationships, rather it is likely to be multiple genes that are expressed incompletely and interact with the environment. Lucas pointed out that what psychologists call “temperament”—the individual palette of emotions and behaviors that even babies display—is probably “hard-wired” by our genetics. Temperament, through training and experience, becomes personality, and personality is a complicated situation, because it involves the ability to commit, which men would readily use this single genetic inability as an excuse not to commit to relationships. But as another scientist said, taken together, the effect of the studied gene variant on human pair-bonding behavior is rather small, and it can not, with any real accuracy, be used to predict how someone will behave in a future relationship.

DEPRESSION

From this perspective, of commitment and bonding, the lack or inability to bond, to commit to another or receive acceptance from family, friends and even loved ones, has led to many Black men spiraling downwards into a depressive funk. Some of the signs of a person suffering from depression are withdrawal from friends, family, co-workers; no longer taking pleasure or joy in things or activities they once did, they appear sad, have a pessimistic out look on their lives – see the glass as half empty rather than half full, and in many cases have become secretive – most likely into some type of substance abuse, including drugs and alcohol, have become sex addicts, and are sometimes violent.

According to Terri Williams, who examines depression in Black men and women in her book, Black Pain, Black men who live the reality of the statistics have adopted a “who cares” attitude to guard against the disappointment of dashed hopes and the lack of chances of becoming someone in a culture that at every step says the color of their skin means they are inferior, not worthy, or just nothing. She quotes Erin Texiera of the Associated Press who said that everyday African-American men consciously work to offset stereotypes about them – that they are dangerous, aggressive and angry, smiling a lot, dressing conservatively and speaking with deference: Yes sir, No sir or ma’am, and many are mindful of their bodies, careful not to dart into elevators or stand too close in grocery stores. Williams also quotes Vernon Slaughter, an Atlanta-based entertainment attorney and former music industry executive, who said that his depression was one of the causes of his marriage dissolving and accepted that it was the reason for some of his mistakes in his career. Describing his depression, he said that it was the real reason some people may have thought he behaved unusual at times, even for himself. He admits that is deathly afraid of becoming old and helpless because of what he feels is his chronic pain. He is afraid that his chronic pain and the depression it has caused him will leave him with no one to help take care of him and with very little savings, and that all of his education and professional achievements couldn’t save him from depression and the damage it does.

A depressed Black man doesn’t always look like he’s down in the dumps, instead he could be the most energetic person, on the go all the time. He may be accomplished in many socially acceptable areas – career, family, church, sports and school, or on the flip side, he may be the man who just can’t stop making everything worse for himself and for those around him. A depressed man, especially a Black man, is most afraid of ending up with unbearable feelings and not knowing how to handle or deal with it, which often explains the underlying and unexplored depression that leads to self destructive behavior and actions. How many men do we know who to deal with their emotions resort to intense alcohol use, become so intoxicated that they loose control, beating up their partners, lovers or wives? How many men do we know, or ourselves, who choose avoidance or other activities instead of dealing head on with the feelings welling inside us, confronting what is troubling us, saying that we don’t understand or don’t like something?

In our community, the numbers of Black men dying everyday from heart attacks, alcohol and drug abuse and addiction, from HIV, from violence, and from being incarcerated are not because they chose to live their lives on a destructive path, they have been forced to do so by the society and culture in which they live. But while this can be used as an excuse and a crutch to wallow in self pity, many men are eschewing the pressures of these oppressive factors: selling drugs, dropping out of high school or college, contributing to making babies with women they can’t support, spending most of their best years in prisons or their lives cut short. Added to this litany of woes men have to contend with, they also have to deal with the societal institutions that fail them: poor housing, none or inadequate healthcare, unchecked crime, poor or ineffective education, real and perceived injustices, and welfare programs that are like an addictive drug – hard to shake off.

As Nathaniel Brand said, self acceptance is my refusal to be in an adversarial relationship with myself. It is against these odds that many men are proving resilient: they are going to school and doing well academically, are embarking on careers, are entering into mature and healthy relationships – whether with each other or with women and are making a decent living: they are building and restoring their lives. Men are stepping up and taking responsibility, not only for their lives, but for their actions and choices – which are more informed.

BLACK GAY MEN AND HIV – THE NUMBERS

In recent months we have seen and heard the statistics of the number of Black men who are HIV positive. While the statistics is helpful for politicians and corporations to get more money for their pet projects, for Black men, it should serve as a clarion call to wake up. In late August, the New York City’s Department of Health and Mental Hygiene released some startling numbers. According to The New York Times, HIV is spreading in New York City at three times the national rate — an incidence of 72 new infections for every 100,000 people, compared with 23 per 100,000 nationally. Within New York City, whites were infected at four times the national rate, Hispanics at three times the national rate, and Blacks at almost twice the national rate. Blacks, and men who have sex with other men, are the groups at greatest risk of contracting H.I.V. Men accounted for 76 percent of new H.I.V. infections and women for 25 percent. Blacks made up 46 percent of the newly infected; Hispanics, 32 percent; and whites, 21 percent. Those under age 20 made up four percent of the newly infected; those 20 to 29 years old, 24 percent; those 30 to 39 years old, 29 percent; those 40 to 49 years old, 29 percent; and those 50 and older, 15 percent. Sex between men was the main cause in 50 percent of new infections; high-risk heterosexual sex in 22 percent; intravenous drug use in 8 percent; and unknown or uncertain causes in 18 percent. In the boroughs, Manhattan accounted for 35 percent of new infections; Brooklyn, 26 percent; the Bronx, 19 percent; and Queens, 17 percent. New H.I.V. infections among men under age 30 who have sex with men, 77 percent were Black or Hispanic men, as were 59 percent of new H.I.V. infections among men ages 30 to 50 who have sex with men. Nearly two-thirds of the city’s new infections occurred in people 30 to 50 years old.

I have encountered many teenagers and early 20-year olds who are HIV positive, and many who are in their 40s who have been positive for over 10 years. I have also encountered many young men who have become complacent by the advances in HIV treatment that they prefer to engage in unsafe condom-less sexual practices. But this is not confined to the Black same gender loving community. Yesterday morning I heard on the Steve Harvey Show, again on 107.5 WBLS, Steve Harvey reading a letter from a young woman with a young daughter who described herself as successful and accomplished, and who had met a man online – despite the criticisms, more and more people are turning to online sites to meet potential long term or instant sexual partners. After dating for a few weeks, she and the man had sex. Before going that far, she enquired whether he was HIV negative and he assured her that he was negative. She was apprehensive about not using a condom with him. And, as they continued to see each other, she repeatedly asked him to provide proof of his negative status, which he always avoided or brushed off. Then after a while he stopped returning her calls, responding to her messages, and when she called his job, he became verbally abusive to her. A few months ago she said she went for a HIV test and it came back positive. She was asking Steve Harvey what she should do.

BLACK GAY DEPRESSION

When Dr. David Malebranche was appointed to the President’s Advisory Council on HIV/AIDS, in an interview with Keith Boykin, he was asked what more the government should do to address HIV/AIDS. Dr. Malebranche said that there is need to focus more on the social factors to address HIV with two answers to the question.

“One would be the prevention and one would be the treatment. From a prevention standpoint, we need to focus more on the fundamental social causes that are driving the epidemic and things like poverty, mental health, substance abuse, as well as the education aspect, which always has to be a part of it. But I think people are missing some of the bigger issues around finance and mental health. There are still civil rights…issues in front of us both as black men and homosexual men…[but] the barriers we face are more internalized…oppression, disempowerment, low self esteem, discomfort with who we are…those kinds of things,” he said.

We have all, at one time or the other, struggled with these issues: self-esteem, self-confidence, identity, masculinity and sexuality or sexual orientation. Ours is a society that is money conscious, even our illnesses have profit margins. In all the hoopla about HIV and its devastating effects on Black gay men, the increasing numbers of Black women who are infected by Black men, and all the many different pharmaceuticals to treat the disease; prevention means testing, “scripting,” dispensing and the distribution of NYC packaged condoms, and for the many agencies that have become a kind of cottage industry, data collection for reporting means more funding. And, while there is some talk therapy on an as needed basis, not much is being done, as another element in the arsenal of prevention, to address the psychological needs of the Black gay community.

Many of us have seen the pain and suffering in family, friends and co-workers, or have experienced the pain striking at the core of who we are. In sharing in the lives of three close friends, I recognized their pain and I saw that the behavior of Black gay men, their attitudes, their decisions and life choices, and the effect of depression on their outlook toward life – all emanated from damaged psyches. One friend, a father of two, has been in and out of mental institutions as he struggled to get a handle on his depression, which caused him to abuse drugs and engage in unprotected sex. Another friend, a colleague, who has written openly about his depression, is still an unacknowledged alcoholic, who would on occasion, when the stresses of life become too much to bear, would withdraw and be un-communicative from friends and family for extended periods. And, another 25-year old friend, who attempted suicide four times, is already an alcoholic and as a sex addict, engages in unprotected sex.

After hearing the stories of these friends, I became aware that even though a number of books have been published about depression affecting Black people, men and women, Black Pain by Terri Williams and Standing in the Shadows by John Head, nothing, apart from academic papers and essays in medical journals, addressed depression as a mental illness in Black gay men and Black gay HIV Positive men. While the issue of depression, its symptoms, characteristics and treatment is universal, and accepting that ethno-socio-cultural elements are contributors, I recognize that for Black gay men and Black gay HIV positive men, differences do exist at the fundamental level.

Black gay men are still regarded as sexually irresponsible members of society who continue to engage in unsafe and risky sexual behavior; are still considered socially challenged – unable to maintain stable relationships and jobs; and indulge in abuses, whether drugs, alcohol, or sex.

Dr. Alexander Vington, a Brooklyn-based psychiatrist and head of Vaya Institute advocates a radical shift in addressing the pain at the core level of the experience of Black men. Dr. Vington’s program is a fundamental paradigm shift from conventional methods of treatment to more involved self evaluation, awareness and internalized healing, in people all over; with practical applications for Black men who are in pain. With treatment Black gay men and Black gay HIV positive men could live more wholesome, healthy and productive lives – improving themselves and making valuable contributions to their families, friends, relationships and communities. The National Black Psychological Association is one of many organizations where one can find Black psychotherapists who understand the Black experience and who are culturally aware – for African American, Caribbean American and African, to offer counseling to Black men, gay men and HIV positive men, regard less of age. If a person cannot afford the price of a therapist, he should ask about a sliding scale or look up one of the social service agencies, who often have a psychological professional on staff, to begin to address their issues.

Irony of divide

By A.B. Craigwell

New York, NY —Nov 14—Along the spectrum of the African-American community in New York a sharp divide is clearly evident.

On Tuesday night, the New York Police and Fire Widows’ and Children’s Benefit Fund held their annual fund raising benefit at the Hilton Hotel in New York and presented Russell Simmons with the organization’s philanthropist of the year award. Among those in attendance at this lavish event, were NYPD Commissioner Ray Kelly, FDNY Commissioner Nicholas Scoppetta and Rusti Staub, former baseball player turned philanthropist and founder of the organization.

The irony of this event is that while the Kheil Coppin’s family were mourning the injustice of his untimely death by police shooting two nights ago in the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn and a host of questions were being asked about the circumstances surrounding the shooting, Simmons and a plethora of African-Americans, including civil rights activist Benjamin Chavis, Hip-Hop entrepreneur Damon Dash and Jonathan Jackson, son of Jesse Jackson, were in a sense living it up.

It is not suggested that because of Coppin’s death the world should have come to a standstill. What is questioned is the appropriateness of Simmons accepting an award at that time, when instead the Black community should have been rallying around the family, providing support for them and working to get to the bottom of the shooting.

Despite previous and some persisting reports about whether the families do in fact receive help from the Widows Benefit Fund, the organization succeeded in raising over $1 million to provide assistance to police and fire men’s families killed in the line of duty.

A representative of a public relations firm for the law firm Weil, Gotshal & Manges, who was present at the event recalled thinking as she looked around the room how surreal the event was against the backdrop of the shooting. It was, she said, as if nothing was amiss.