One Writer's View Of The Best And Worst Of Black Nonfiction Books In 2006

Got this from Kalamu. It’s from a site of which, before today, I had never heard.

And while you’re at it, check out this list. There is some overlap.

 

The 10 Best (and 5

 Worst) Black Books of

 2006

Revisiting a Banner Year for

Black Writers

by Kam Williams 

2006 turned out to be an explosive, coming-of-age year for African-American writers of nonfiction. Proof for me was that there were so many phenomenal texts to choose from when compiling this list that I found it quite a challenge to settle on the final 10. What’s probably most interesting about the authors who did win is that half of them are relative unknowns, either self-published or associated with modest-sized book companies.

Displaying a variety of unique voices and covering a wide spectrum of subject-matter, the only thing that these gifted craftsmen have in common is an unbridled passion and a soul still intact. For they are able to express themselves on paper in a recognizably black, and larger-than-life fashion, doing with words what Aretha can do with her voice, and what Coltrane could do with his horn.

Since nothing I say in this limited space could possibly do justice to these welcome additions to the field of black literature, I strongly suggest that you consider reading any whose descriptions pique your curiosity.

10 Best Black Books of 2006

1. Diary of a Lost Girl by Kola Boof

 Diary of A Lost Girl: The Autobiography Of Kola Boof

This alternately heartbreaking and brutally-honest autobiography is not only my top pick of 2006, but just might be the most brilliant deconstruction of the plight of present-day African-Americans yet written. Born in The Sudan in March of 1972, she was orphaned at the age of seven after her parents were murdered for speaking out against the government’s involvement in the revival of the slave trade. After being abandoned by her grandmother for being too dark-skinned, Kola eventually found her way to the United States where she was adopted by a kindly African-American couple with a big family.

Diary of a Lost Girl is a welcome addition to the genre of African-American memoir for it represents the unalloyed emotions of an intelligent, defiant, controversial, frequently profane and proud black woman, a survivor who somehow overcame one of the worst childhoods imaginable to share an abundance of intriguing, if debatable insights about her adopted homeland.

2. Deconstructing Tyrone:A New Look at Black Masculinity in the Hip-Hop Generation
by Natalie Hopkinson & Natalie Y. Moore

 Deconstructing Tyrone: A New Look at Black Masculinity in the Hip-Hop Generation

A superb, thorough, and intellectually-honest examination of the latter-day African-American male. Leaving no stone unturned, the co-authors assess how such phenomena as homophobia, the incarceration rate, brothers on the down-low, abandonment by baby-daddies, gangsta rap’s influuence, academic underachievement and underemployment have contributed to what they see as an unfortunate schism between brothers and sisters.

The fundamental question the book raises repeatedly, but in a myriad of ways, is “How can you love your culture, hip-hop, but love yourself, too?” Can a self-respecting black woman embrace the typical black male in spite of the gender frictions without capitulating and accepting the “video ho” label? An excellent, urgent study designed to initiate a healthy, long-overdue debate about the prospects and direction of the Hip-Hop Generation by exposing its prevailing male imagery as unacceptably misogynistic, and as more emasculated than macho.

3 Not in My Family: AIDS in the African-American Family
Edited by Gil L. Robertson, IV

Not In My Family: AIDS in the African American Community

This urgent, informative and groundbreaking book takes AIDS out of the inner-city closet by initiating an intelligent dialogue designed to shake both brothers and sisters out of their complacency and thereby inspire everyone to action. Among the sixty or so contributors to this timely text are entertainers, such as Patti LaBelle, Jasmine Guy, Sheryl Lee Ralph, Mo’Nique and Hill Harper; physicians, including Dr. Donna Christensen, DR. James Benton and Dr. Joycelyn Elders; AIDS activists Phill Wilson and Christopher Cathcart; ministers, like Reverend Al Sharpton and Calvin Butts; best-selling authors, such as Randall Robinson and Omar Tyree; and Congressmen Barbara Lee, Jesse Jackson, Jr. and Gregory Meeks.

But just as moving as the clarion call sounded by any of these celebs, are the heartfelt stories related by ordinary folks without any pedigree. Filled to overflowing with almost sacred moments, Not in My Family is a must read, but not merely as a heart-wrenching collection of moving AIDS memoirs. For perhaps more significantly, this seminal work simultaneously serves as the means of kickstarting candid dialogue about an array of pressing, collateral topics, ranging from homophobia to incarceration to brothers on the down low to low self-esteem to the use of condoms to the role of the Church in combating this virtually-invisible genocide quietly claiming African-Americana.

4. White Men Can’t Hump (As Good As Black Men): Race & Sex in America, Volumes I & II
by Todd Wooten

White Men Can't Hump ,as Good As Black Men: Race & Sex in America

White Men Can't Hump (as Good as Black Men): Volume II: Sex & Race in America

Not only can’t white men jump, but they apparently can’t hump either, at least according to Todd Wooten, a Marine-turned-self-appointed expert on mating habits across the color line. To his credit, the sagacious, salacious sex historian makes up for his lack of credentials with an infectious enthusiasm for his material and a colorful ability to turn a phrase, even if he is prone to profanity.

Taking no prisoners, the author is an equal-opportunity offender, and an admirable in his effort to close the human divide by addressing a litany of uncomfortable issues with the goal of eradicating both intolerance and underachievement. Overall, the book happens to be quite an entertaining page-turner which rests on the basic premise that the legacy of slavery has left black males both devalued and blamed for their collective lower station
in life.

5. The Covenant with Black America
Edited by Tavis Smiley

 The Covenant with Black America

Every February, talk show host Tavis Smiley has convened some of the most brilliant black minds around to assess the State of the Black Union. Feeling that an annual symposium simply exchanging opinions wasn’t enough, he decided to come up with a blueprint addressing the most critical issues confronting the African-American community.

The Covenant with Black America amounts to an exhaustive, encyclopedic assault on the litany of woes presently plaguing African-Americans. What makes this treatise unique is the plethora of practical guidance it provides in terms of the undoing the persisting inequalities. In advocating evolutionary as opposed to revolutionary solutions, this inclusive, optimistic opus ought to inspire anyone who reads it to get involved personally, and to lend their talents to the eradication of the seemingly intractable impediments to black progress.

6. Mixed: My Life in Black and White
By Angela Nissel

Mixed: My Life in Black and White

Halle Berry’s blurb on the front cover of this poignant memoir misleadingly describes it as, “Hilarious!” A must read, yes. Halle was ostensibly quoted not as a literary critic because she has a black parent and a white parent, just like the book’s author. Nevertheless, while Angela Nissel’s autobiography has more than its share of humorous moments, its prevailing tone is stone cold sober.

Brutally honest in tone, her heartbreaking tale begins when she was abandoned at an early age by her Jewish father to be raised alone in West Philadelphia by her African-American mother, Gwen. Unfortunately, for Angela, this meant that she had to grow up fast during her formative years, negotiating her way in a community where many challenged her blackness because she was not only light-skinned, but half-white.

Mixed graphically relates her battle with depression and suicidal tendencies, her stint as a stripper, her being threatened with a gun by a neighbor, and her post-collegiate decision to date white guys after being unable to interest black professionals. Given how low she had to go before bottoming-out, it’s a minor miracle this survivor is still with us, let alone flourishing, having finally found both the man and job of her dreams.

7. Getting It Wrong – How Black Public Intellectuals Are Failing Black America
by Algernon Austin

Getting It Wrong: How Black Public Intellectuals Are Failing Black America

The author’s primary contention, here, is that ivory tower blacks, who have lost touch with the community, now feel comfortable indicting less fortunate black folks they left behind for exhibiting symptoms simply long-associated with poverty. Such blaming of the victims is destructive, Austin suggests, because it relies on a stereotyping which makes it convenient for Middle America to see skin color rather than a racist, exploitative economy as the explanation for the plight of the least of their brethren.

He goes on to indict the legal system as “the most anti-black institution” in the country arguing that it defines “criminality as an inherent characteristic, as a trait, of blackness.” Consistently separating myth from fact in this fashion, Getting It Wrong is an excellent opus in that it deliberately deconstructs the unfair and color-coded stereotypes which the both the black bourgeoisie and the white mainstream culture have come to resort to when referring to African-American ghetto-dwellers.

8. Letters to a Young Brother – MANifest Your Destiny
by Hill Harper

Letters to a Young Brother: MANifest Your Destiny

Lately, it seems that everyday another study is announced sharing some sobering statistics about the dire straits of the African-American male.

Whether it has to do with employment, parenting, education, incarceration, or any other factors correlated with success in this society, all indications are that the black male is currently in crisis. For this reason, Hill Harper, star of CBS-TV’s “CSI: NY,” was inspired to publish Letters to a Young Brother, a priceless, no-nonsense, step-by-step guide out of the ghetto, provided it reaches a pair of receptive ears with a support team prepared to help him achieve his dream. The salient message being delivered by this how-to primer is that education is power, that material possessions do not ensure happiness, and that it’s important to be the architect of your own life.

9. Black Cops Against Brutality: A Crisis Action Plan
by DeLacy Davis

 

The book is an invaluable, police encounter survival guide, for it offers plenty of sound advice on how to handle the situation, if you are unlucky enough to get detained by a cop for whatever reason. Obviously, as a recently-retired, veteran police officer, the author has some sage insights to share, such as to remain calm, roll down your car window, turn on the ceiling light and keep both hands on the wheel during a motor vehicle stop.

He also lets you know how to handle the situation when the authorities arrive at your door, whether with or without a warrant, or if they simply begin questioning you right on the street.

Of equal import is how Delacy addresses what to do when you’ve become the victim of a profile stop, an unlawful arrest or an unfair search and seizure. Here, he delineates each step of the subsequent civilian complaint process, from keeping a log sheet, to finding an attorney, filing charges, and contacting the press and your political representatives.Finally, because the author sees the issue as a nationwide crisis, he stresses the need to develop strategies for eradicating police brutality once and for all. Overall, this arrives readily recommended as a legally-sound, morally-upright and most practical guide by a brother who breaks the blue wall of silence to help hip the people about how to deal with the criminal justice system most effectively.

10. Lynched by Corporate America – The Gripping True Story of How One African-American Survived Doing Business with a Fortune 500 Giant
by Herman Malone and Robert Schwab

Lynched by Corporate America: The Gripping True Story of How One African American Survived Doing Business with a Fortune 500 Giant 

In 1969, shortly after being honorably discharged by the Air Force, Herman Malone returned to his hometown of Camden, Arkansas. One evening soon thereafter, the 21 year-old vet was profile-stopped by two white cops who took him for a ride during which they warned that he might find himself floating dead in the swamp if he didn’t leave town immediately.

That’s how he ended up in Denver where he started a company called RMES Communications, Inc. By 1990, RMES was flourishing, generating about $10 million in annual sales as an approved vendor for US West, one of the seven Baby Bells. At this juncture, it looked like happily-ever-after for Herman and his family. But unfortunately, their version of the American Dream soon turned into a neverending nightmare when a new CEO took control of US West a couple of years later.

For, according to Malone, the new chairman systematically began backing out of its established agreements with black-owned businesses. So, the suddenly-disenfranchised African-Americans filed a class action suit alleging racial discrimination against the Fortune 500 mega-corp. And it is that frustrating, drawn-out legal battle which is oh so painstakingly recounted in Lynched by Corporate America.

As an attorney, I found this cautionary tale about the justice system rather riveting. Filled with copious quotes ostensibly recounted from court transcripts, Mr. Malone makes a very convincing argument that a combination of racism and a judicial kowtowing to corporate interests played a significant role in the resolution of the case. While discouraging, this should come as no surprise to anyone familiar with the age-old legal maxim well-known to lawyers, “In the halls of justice, the only justice is in the halls.”

Honorable Mention

Mama Made the Difference:
Life Lessons My Mother Taught Me

By Bishop T.D. Jakes

Mama Made the Difference

Forty Million Dollar Slaves:
The Rise, Fall, and Redemption of the Black Athlete

By William C. Rhoden

Forty Million Dollar Slaves: The Rise, Fall, and Redemption of the Black Athlete

Jokes My Father Never Taught Me:
Life, Love, and Loss with Richard Pryor

By Rain Pryor

Jokes My Father Never Taught Me: Life, Love, and Loss with Richard Pryor

Life Out of Context
By Walter Mosley

Life Out of Context

Living Black History:
How Reimagining the African-American Past Can Remake America’s Racial Future

By Manning Marable

Living Black History: How Reimagining the African-American Past Can Remake America's Racial Future

A Hand to Guide Me:
Legends and Leaders Celebrate the People Who Shaped Their Lives

By Denzel Washington with Daniel Paisner

A Hand to Guide Me

Don’t Shoot! I’m Coming Out:
How to Man-Up & Set Heterosexuals Straight

By Benn Setfrey

DON'T SHOOT! I'm Coming Out ~ How to

Stripped Bare:
The 12 Truths That Will Help You Land the Very Best Black Man

By LaDawn Black

Stripped Bare

Color Him Father:
Stories of Love and Rediscovery of Black Men

Edited by Stephana I. Colbert and Valerie I. Harrison

Color Him Father: Stories of Love and Rediscovery of Black Men

Historical Dictionary of African-American Television
By Kathleen Fearn-Banks

Historical Dictionary of African-American Television (Historical Dictionaries of Literature and the Arts)

Don’t Make a Black Woman Take Off Her Earrings:
Madea’s Uninhibited Commentaries on Love and Life

By Tyler Perry

Don't Make a Black Woman Take Off Her Earrings: Madea's Uninhibited Commentaries on Love and Life

Words to Our Now:
Imagination and Dissent
By Thomas Glave

 Words to Our Now: Imagination and Dissent

5 Worst Black Books of 2006
1. The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream
By Barack Obama
  The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream 

This tame tome was ostensibly carefully crafted with the intent of enabling Senator Obama to be all things to all people. Unfortunately, it ends up reading like little more than the transparent game plan of a guileful politician. When discussing racism, he comes off as no liberal, but more in the “content of your character” camp as advocated by African-American neo-cons like Shelby Steele and John McWhorter. In this regard, he has no problem putting the onus on blacks to accommodate themselves to the mainstream culture, because “members of every minority group continue to be measured largely by the degree of our assimilation.”

Obama goes on to conclude that “the single biggest thing” we could do to reduce inner-city poverty “is to encourage teenage girls to finish high school and avoid having children out of wedlock.” If these sort of simplistic “blaming the victim” pronouncements are truly Barack’s best ideas on how to reclaim the American Dream, I suggest he keep dreaming.

2. White Guilt: How Blacks & Whites Together Destroyed the Promise of the Civil Rights Era
By Shelby Steele

White Guilt: How Blacks and Whites Together Destroyed the Promise of the Civil Rights Era

This very spirited, anti-African-American screed repeatedly blames the victims for their lot in life at every turn, and in a sadistic fashion, almost as if he savors the smug cruelty suggested by his insensitivity. He tempers his caustic commentary with constant reminders that he, too, is black, invariably juxtaposing each criticism with an autobiographical aside in which he makes flip comments concluding that if he could avoid this or that pitfall and pull himself up by his bootstraps, anybody else can.

Euphoric in his having achieved the American Dream which has proven to be so elusive for most blacks, Steele repeatedly proclaims himself to be cured of the schizophrenia he says has a destructive hold on most other African-American intellectuals. “Tired of living a lie” in order to be black, he has found bliss in a Negro Nirvana free of the “corrupting falseness” of the pressure to identify with folks who look like him and with prevailing black points-of-view.

Since Shelby Steele has apparently found not only a psychic, but a physically comfy, suburban refuge from the rigors of what he terms “race fatigue,” perhaps this arrogant Republican apologist ought to consider refraining from delivering condescending lectures to those unfortunates still stuck in the slums.

3. Enough – The Phony Leaders, Dead-End Movements, and Culture of Failure That Are Undermining Black America and What We Can Do About It
By Juan Williams

Enough: The Phony Leaders, Dead-End Movements, and Culture of Failure That Are Undermining Black America--and What We Can Do About It 

Juan Williams is best known for his appearances as a panelist on the Fox News Channel. So, it comes as no surprise, that the political pundit might publish a right-wing diatribe which basically blames African Americans themselves and their Democratic leaders for the assortment of ills which still beset the community. Williams has rather harsh words for everyone from Reverend Jesse Jackson to Julian Bond to Randall Robinson to Reverend Al Sharpton.

When not indulging in character assassination, the author devotes his attention to topical issues such as the handling of Hurricane to Katrina. Enough’s most mind-boggling passages are those covering the tragedy, especially since the book is dedicated to “the people rising above Katrina’s storm.” Yet, rather than question how the city, state and federal authorities could have all abandoned thousands upon thousands of poor black folk for days on end, Williams conveniently concludes that, “The government response was the result of ineptitude, not racism.”

Meanwhile, he has issues with black “paranoia” about New Orleans and sees the black church, strong families, and a tradition of “self-help” as a viable solution to rebuilding the devastated Lower Ninth Ward. Reads more like a series of Republican talking points than an honest assessment of the state of African-Americana. Enough is enough!

4. Hokum: An Anthology of African-American Humor
Edited by Paul Beatty

Hokum: An Anthology of African-American Humor 

When I cracked open this collection of black jokes with a watermelon on the cover, I frankly expected to find material far funnier than a pathetic mix of goofball commentaries which devotes entire chapters to losers like Mike Tyson, a functional illiterate who probably wasn’t even trying to make people laugh when he went on the diatribes recounted here.

To the press, Iron Mike once said this about Lennox Lewis: “I want to eat his children. Praise be to Allah!” The ex-champ is later showcased at his best when simply rambling like a cross between a punch-drunk boxer and a mental patient with diarrhea of the mouth: “At times, I come across as crude or crass. That irritates you when I come across like a Neanderthal or a babbling idiot, but I like to be that person. I like to show you all that person, because that’s who you come to see.”

Where are the examples of the acerbic wit of Richard Pryor, Paul Mooney, Godfrey Cambridge, Dick Gregory and other brilliant African-American comedians known for their biting social satire? Not here. Maybe I missed something, but Hokum strikes this critic as a ho-hum hoax perpetrated on the public, since it’s ostensibly designed more for those interested in laughing at black folks than in laughing with them.  Buy this book and the only joke’s on you.

5. Secret Daughter: A Mixed-Race Daughter and the Mother Who Gave Her Away
by June Cross

Secret Daughter: A Mixed-Race Daughter and the Mother Who Gave Her Away 

Ten years ago, PBS aired a documentary entitled “Secret Daughter,” a gut-wrenching bio-pic about the life of little orphan June, abandoned by both of her parents at an early age to be raised by strangers in Atlantic City. What made Ms. Cross’ story so compelling was not the fact that her father was black and her mother was white, but that her mother was such an ice princess when her long-lost daughter tracked her down with a camera crew to ask her why she had dumped her on the doorstep of people she barely knew so many years ago.

June came off as oh-so masochistic trying to kiss-up to her cold-hearted mom who did little to hide her annoyance that this sepia skeleton would come jumping out of her closet at a time when she was happily-married and had a white daughter. After hitting an emotional dead end retracing her roots, one would think that Cross would drop the “Love me, Mommy!” act and move on with her life.

But instead she decided to write a memoir which, unfortunately, is not nearly as riveting as the already televised account of her ordeal. For the orphan is far too inclined to give her absentee-mom a pass, ostensibly because the woman was white, and because segregation is an acceptable explanation for her being abandoned.

June just doesn’t understand that there’s no excuse for the way that racist witch denied and mistreated her till the day she died. Before she tries to convince the world that her mother was misunderstood and actually really loved her, June needs to convince herself of it, and then figure a way to erase the monster we witnessed on that damning PBS broadcast from our collective memory.

Lloyd Kam Williams is a syndicated writer whose articles appear in 100+ periodicals around the country. In addition to his legal background, he has degrees from three Ivy League schools: a BA from Cornell, an MA from Brown and and MBA from The Wharton School. He lives in Princeton with his wife and son.

 

Independent Audio/Video You Should Check Out (Fifth In A Long-Running Series)

 

From my friend Malik Russell.

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THE DOCUMIXOLOGIST published a new podcast entitled “AMOS WILSON: MIND-WARRIOR” on 12/10/2006 4:23:18 AM, posted by Melki.

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AMOS WILSON: MIND-WARRIOR

The late Dr. Amos Wilson, noted pyschologist, drops serious science on the issue of racism and white supremacy. He addresses the particular issues of raising Black children without passing down an inferiority complex.

Book Review: Chronicling Black Realities, Solidifying Black Perspectives

Black Voices In Commentary
The Trotter Group
[Editorial Team: DeWayne Wickham, Wayne Dawkins, Rochelle Riley, Cheriss May]
August Press, ISBN: 0963572091
128 pp., $15.95

Reviewed by Todd Steven Burroughs

Trotter Group members are neither irreverent nor famous. Although known to other journalists, they are hardly household names. Unless he does a national forum on print media coverage of Black communities, most will never get a call from Tavis Smiley’s booking agents to be on those February C-SPAN rhetoric marathons. That’s because the vast majority of Trotter members are seasoned print journalists who work(ed) hard at major white newspapers every day, far away from the national infotainment spotlight. The privilege to speak their communal Black-but-objective journalistic mind for their respective Metro or Op-Ed pages was a hard-earned one, back in the mass media era that now seems to have peaked. So, for as long as they can, they use their salaried opportunities to document their lives and opinions through their Black perspectives, educating white readers and re-affirming Black ones.

The 23 columnists here—among those who gather every year in the name of William Monroe Trotter, an agitating, early 20th century Black newspaper publisher—meld the past and present by making sure important local, regional and national Black stories got told. Even though most of the columns here range roughly from 2004 through 2006, collectively they weave strands of African-American history from Jim Crow up through “Hustle And Flow.” Pieces of memory, fragments of encounters, reporting of current events—all are here, dispatched from Boston, Detroit, Virginia, and other regions, intersecting in a multi-faceted piece of geography called Black America. This amalgamation allows the brief tale of a 23-year-old voter in Milwaukee to share space with the account a 103-year-old Tulsa, Oklahoma riot survivor preaching a revival in Seattle. The book’s slightly heartbreaking coda, “Memories,” contain the final first-person goodbyes from the Trotter members who are now Ancestors. Asante Sana, Vernon Jarrett, Norman Lockman, Peggy Peterman, Gregory Freeman and Lisa Baird, and other prominent Black journalists who seem to be dying every month.

 

Vernon Jarrett, One Of My Scribe Ancestors 

This collection adds well to Wickham’s own Black columnist anthologies, “Fire At Will,” his 1989 solo effort, and his 1995 edited work, “Thinking Black: Some Of The Nation’s Best Black Columnists Speak Their Mind.” This book, an unnamed sequel to the latter, keeps good company with the small group of first-person books written within the last two decades by Black journalists who have toiled in the journalistic mainstream. Many of these authors and columnists injected African-American perspectives in America’s public sphere while Smiley was still getting coffee for Tom Bradley and Michael Eric Dyson was cooped up in a library researching his master’s thesis.  🙂

But as 2007 approaches, these Black establishment voices seem, well, too traditional (read: old) in the blogging age. The tight newspaper spaces work against, not with, these pieces. The lack of intensity throughout reveals that these writers either do not have, or regularly use, the power to really witness in the ways The Village Voice, The Nation or I.F. Stone’s Weekly, to name three examples, made famous in the middle of the last century. The almost unvarying middle-of-the-road political perspectives read very corporate, restrained; none of the independent, righteous rage of, say, a Mumia Abu-Jamal or an Ann Coulter—or a Trotter, frankly!—is found here.

Many of the journalists included here would, for the most part, consider that last criticism somewhat of a compliment. They have sought broad community attention to educate and illuminate, not to provide fodder for Bill O’Reilly. They are proud of their white mainstream affiliations and the power they have traditionally carried. They are not trying to be cute, popular, or controversial. They would not fit well between Tom Joyner’s old-school jams and “Melvin’s Love Lines.”

But in a new-media world of tens of thousands of amateur journalists using new toys that provide worldwide distribution without having to paint within established white lines, it might be difficult to make future opinionated Black scribes care about this important distinction. Then again, maybe the illusion of white power, coupled with steady green power, would be enough for many of them, after all. Choices abound because of the barrier-busting work of the Trotter Group. It’s just too bad those options don’t include a Black equivalent of Slate or Salon—some professional journalistic forum that would allow these veteran writers to stretch out and loosen up.

If the platform-shoe-d journalistic generation fails to inspire its multi-platformed media successors, however, it can at least pass into eldership knowing it succeeded in telling important African-American stories to, and for, teachers, churchgoers, politicians, bakers, dentists and supermarket cashiers back when the authority of a major metropolitan newspaper still meant something. That temporary glory is more than enough for it.

The Adventures of Melki: Glocks and Cops

 

By Malik Russell

Note From Malik: This column was written originally in 2000. I’m re-issuing it in response to the recent police shootings of Sean Bell, an unarmed African American man in Queens, New York.

“The Adventures of Melki” is a fictional hiphop/social commentary column that addresses social problems from the perspective of a young Black male.

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The fictional adventures of Melki represents one of the various manifestations or alter-egos of FLUID: The Mental Realm of Hiphop. Melki, otherwise known as DJ Fluid, must make mixed-tapes to live. Trapped in the “NOW” and judged by the public aka “Da Heads,” he must constantly outdo his previous mix or disappear into the dimensional void of  “WUZ.”


Melki lay there bleeding from eight bullet holes, staring at the wide-eyed cops. His eyes pleaded WHY? But, he barely had the strength to stay conscious, much less say something. The color from the ever-increasing amount of squad cars blended in the night sky like a patriotic sherbet. Damn, thought Melki, I just bought this sweatsuit with matching kicks. Now I’ve got to clean blood out of them. What could I use to get these stains out? Refusing to give up the ghost, he held on, supplementing his own breath with that of the ancestors, clinging to life like a blade of grass surrounded by cement, he clutched tightly the final copy of his demo tape on disc.

Cops stood around him joking. “I thought he had a gun,” he overheard one say.

His thoughts drifted back to six hours earlier in the studio laying tracks for his upcoming album. He thought he was on his way to meet a rep from Def Jam, instead Death sent his.

SIX Hours ago… “Yo, Sun, I want you to bring those lyrics again. This time with more emotional content,” demanded Melki.

Ra stared at Melki in a confused state. “’Emotional content’? Kid, you got break down what ya saying.”

Melki took a deep breath. “You know, the same type of energy that you’d bring if this was a fight with someone that tried to take ya cake or Game Seven of the NBA finals. Emotional content, Sun, you feeling me? After this cut, we through and I can bring my demo to the reps from Def Jam on time,” spouts Melki. 

“Okay, Okay, Fluid, I gotcha, let’s do this again, ’cause I gots to get my lady something for our 3-month anniversary,” said Ra.

Melki, otherwise known as DJ Fluid, kicks up the speakers and brings in the baseline, as RA gets ready to release his verbal barrage. Ra starts swerving his head back and forth and with emotional content, catches the beat like clockwork:

“Till I begin, in it to win it
The flow, impacts in a minute
We travel with comets like Bennett
Flip rent like project tenants
Moreover I snatch the pennant
Grammar—I break and bend it
Tell Lies, just like the Senate
Nose grows, Pinocchio
I implode
Where can U go?
For Justice….

TWO Hours ago…Melki pulls out his cellular, anxiously dialing the digits to stardom. His demo was done. He was now officially on his way to Bling-Bling Land, and wondered what designer jean suit he’d wear to the Soul Train Awards. Akademic or Sean John?

“Yo, Who dis?”

“It’s me, Melki. Yo, kid the demo is done! I should be able to drop it off around ten, Cool?”

“Cool.”

Grinning, Melki packs his gear and carefully slides his demo into the pocket of his black hoody. “Yo, Ra, let me catch a ride uptown.”

Ra stares at Melki. “I told you I got to make a few runs, you ready? Cause I’m ready,” spurts Ra, biting on a chew stick.

An HOUR ago…Joe Soldin and Mickey sat in their unmarked squad car, checking out honey dips passing by. Mickey had followed his father into the police force and after 4 years of patrolling the black community, he knew them better than they knew themselves. In his mind, he was the Thin Blue Line preventing complete chaos. They wuz animals, he thought. Most of them, ‘cept my partner Joe. Joe had come up in the hood and now escaped it. He loved his suburban community, and hated anyone or anything reminding him of where he came from. He’d risen above that now. He knew how to keep these fools in check. The only thing they respect is a glock.

THIRTY Minutes ago… Melki and Ra zoomed uptown in Ra’s new SUV. In-between emceeing and writing lyrics, Ra had worked three jobs to achieve this piece of American pie. Melki threw in one of his old mixed tapes and Ra bopped his head wildly in accord with his normal behavior. Melki looked at Ra and realized why Ra never drank or smoked—he didn’t need it. 

“Yo, Melki, peep this, our first video, we could be coming out the sky in a spaceship….” Suddenly sirens erupt behind Ra and Melki. “Damn,” says Ra, looking at Melki. “What these fools want? Melki, you ain’t got no warrants or nothing, right?”

“Naw, fool, I ain’t no criminal, I just do music.”

 

Melki and Ra sit there hands on the wheel, while the unmarked car behind them sat there for what seemed like hours. Finally two officers came out the vehicle, one white, the other black. Glocks drawn they scurried to the car and pointed their pistols point blank at the two occupants. Sweat began to drip from Melki’s eyebrow to his nose to the floor.

“Get out, punks. How you pay for this jeep? Huh? These are our streets, Nigga, so I’m gonna say this once, get out slowly and onto the ground, you know the position.”

Melki and Ra slowly crawl out and squat on hands and knees on the cold cement. Without warning, Joe Soldin clubs Ra with the butt of his glock and just starts beating him senseless.

“See what ya friend got,” says Mickey. “We got something for you to, so tell us what you got in the truck.”

“Huh?” Melki says, “I ain’t got nothing, idiots, nothing, just this,” quickly pulling his demo tape out, half-blinded by the siren lights and moans from Ra. 

He hears Mickey scream, “He’s got a gun!” Before Melki could respond, the two cops blast away 22 shots, eight of which strike Melki in the back. Melki lay there in a pool of blood, wondering which would come first—an ambulance or death. This ain’t the way the video supposed to end, he thought.

“Every respectable, half-way competent social scientist who has paid attention at all to the issues of crime and delinquency know: that crime is endemic in all social classes: that the administration of justice is grossly biased against the Negro and the lower class defendant; that arrest and imprisonment is a process reserved almost exclusively for the black and the poor; and that the major function of the police is the preservation, not only of the public order, but of the social order—that is, of inequality between man and man. To blather on and on about the slum as a breeding place of crime, about lower class culture as generating milieu of delinquency—a presumably liberal explanation of the prevalence of crime among the poor-is to engage (surely, almost consciously) in ideological warfare against the poor in the interest of maintaining the status quo. It is one of the most detestable forms of blaming the victim.” – “Blaming the Victim” by William Ryan

Malik Russell is an activist, journalist and criminal justice expert.

Remembering 13th and Locust, 25 Years Later

A sad anniversary approaches—the 25th anniversary of the fatal shooting of Daniel Faulkner. Mumia Abu-Jamal, a former member of the Philadelphia branch of the Black Panther Party who was convicted of the crime in 1982, has been under lock and key for 25 years this month.

The NNPA News Service originally distributed this story in December 2001. Here is the full version, with some pictures added from the Web.

For the record, I did try to find Maureen Faulkner at the time. I was unsuccessful. 

Special thanks to Linn Washington for making this story happen.

There have been some changes since this story was published. Lydia Barashango’s husband, the Rev. Ishakamusa Barashango, joined the Ancestors. Abu-Jamal has written two more books since this article. (Here are links to all of his books thus far.) And to the relief of many of his supporters, Abu-Jamal’s legal team and strategy have significantly changed.

Meanwhile, you might find this interesting.

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Mumia Abu-Jamal’s Family Faces Future While Fighting Fear
20th Anniversary of 1981 Shooting Approaches

By Todd Steven Burroughs
NNPA News Editor

[ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED DECEMBER 2001]

PHILADELPHIA (NNPA)—A poster of Mumia Abu-Jamal, Philadelphia radio newscaster-turned-international death penalty cause celebre, hangs at a gathering of relatives in a local hotel suite.

At times, Lydia Barashango, Abu-Jamal’s sister, held the camcorder. Her husband, the Rev. Ishakamusa Barashango, knelt down to a potted plant in the center of the room. As he began to pour libations, he began to call on the ancestors, “known and unknown.” Family members responded by repeating the word, “Ashe,” a West African term loosely meaning “the power to make it so.”

The name Edith Cook, Abu-Jamal’s late mother, was called. They had gathered in her name, proclaimed Rev. Barashango, “because everybody in here is either related to her. And if not directly related to her, spiritually related to her.” She died during Abu-Jamal’s second decade in prison.

It was the day after Thanksgiving, and Lydia had organized a get-together in Philadelphia to renew family ties, begin discussions about purchasing a family estate outside of the city, the making of a family quilt, and updating all about the latest in Abu-Jamal’s case.

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Next Sunday will mark the 20 years behind bars for Abu-Jamal, the 47-year-old former Black Panther. He is on death row in Waynesburg, Pa. for the killing of Daniel Faulkner, a White police officer, on the early morning of Dec. 9, 1981.

Abu-Jamal and Faulkner were shot after the former journalist tried to stop a confrontation between his brother, William Cook, and Faulkner on a Philadelphia city street early in the morning of Dec. 9. Faulkner died at the scene.

Locust

Abu-Jamal’s family continues to fight to prove his innocence while seeking to live normal lives. It’s a difficult balance to maintain. Although they have not been behind bars, his relatives have also been locked up—chained to the country’s best-known death row prisoner by blood and by choice.

“I feel my life has been in limbo for the past 20 years,” explains Lydia. “I would really like to move out of Philadelphia, but not until Mumia is free.”

The feeling of suspension, with strong tinges of fear, permeates the air around the family of the man born Wesley Cook. Abu-Jamal has four brothers—Keith, Ronnie, William, and his twin Wayne-and a sister, Lydia. He has three children-Jamal, Lateefa and Mazi (Mumia’s hyphenated Arabic surname means “father of Jamal.”). Jamal, the oldest of the trio and one of the most outspoken family members, has his own wait; he is serving a near 16-year sentence on weapons possession.

Lateefa and Mazi were able to attend the post-Thanksgiving family meeting. Mazi—a tall, dark-skinned man with his father’s build, presence and smooth baritone—made a rare visit to the city for the family. Lateefa, more petite than her older brother, lives in Philadelphia. Both display a sense of directness and reserve.

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Abu-Jamal’s only daughter Lateefa is married with two children. Lydia’s husband, Rev. Barashango—pastor of the Temple of the Black Messiah, an African-centered interfaith church in Philadelphia—performed the wedding ceremony.

“I always said Lateefa was a little princess waiting for her daddy to come home,” says Lydia. It’s been a long wait. Lateefa was 8-year-old when her father first went to jail. She is now 28 and doesn’t closely follow the case because “sometimes it’s unbearable.”

At one point in the family ceremony, Keith softly addressed the small group of about 15 family members and close family friends. A correspondent for the National Newspaper Publishers Association, a federation of more than 200 Black newspapers, was the only journalist allowed to attend the family gathering. Keith outlined the family’s history. He talked about how losing his wife last year made him “want you to know who I am, and I want to know who you are.”

Then he talked not about one of the world’s most famous leftist causes, but about his little twin brothers and a family charge.

“When we (Lydia and I) were younger, we were given the twins” by their mother to watch over and take care of, he says, struggling to maintain his composure. Keith then recalled that his mother made Wayne’s well-being Lydia’s responsibility, while Keith was given Wesley.

Regardless of the family assignments, Keith said: “It has impacted all of us that he has been incarcerated for these 20 years.”

Lydia grabbed Keith by the waist, and said, “We’re in a very, very precarious position…We’re in a position where they would rather have Mumia than the man that confessed to the murder.”

Abu-Jamal’s legal team earlier this year produced an affidavit from Arnold Beverly, a man who says he was hired by the mob to kill Faulkner because the White police officer had been interfering with department-approved mob activity on Faulkner’s beat. Abu-Jamal’s 1982 prosecutors, his former legal team, and a city judge all have dismissed Beverly’s claims.

Philadelphia’s Fraternal Order of Police and other Faulkner supporters have long called Abu-Jamal a cop-killer—a murderer who got convicted after a fair trial. Believing Abu-Jamal is stalling the inevitable, they are angry that many anti-death penalty activists call him a “political prisoner.”

Lydia recalled how in the first years after Abu-Jamal’s 1982 conviction, she battled her journalist brother using his favorite weapons—pen and paper.

“Get your [explicative] out of there and come on home,” she wrote. “I don’t want my brother to be a martyr.” She was so mad she didn’t visit or write him for two years.

“I thought that he could say something to make the system let him go,” Lydia says. She says she knows better now. “He responded as if nothing ever happened,” Lydia recalled when she re-established the relationship.

The family talks more about battling the American justice system than Maureen Faulkner, the slain officer’s widow. Lydia claims Faulkner knows Abu-Jamal is innocent and is allowing herself to be used as a “poster child” for wives of police officers.

The widow and the Fraternal Order of Police have made the same charges about Abu-Jamal’s supporters. They claim Abu-Jamal’s supporters know he’s guilty and are using the author of three books as a poster child of the radical left.

A plaque in Faulkner’s honor is scheduled to be officially unveiled in Philadelphia at 13th and Locust—the corner where he was fatally shot—at a ceremony this Sunday.

Keith and Lydia are making their own plans for the future.

At Lydia’s request, Abu-Jamal has designed a family crest. Work on a quilt has also begun. Lydia also introduced the idea of family fundraising for an estate in her mother’s name. Migration once again equals familial security, as it was for Edith, who migrated with her brother to Philadelphia from segregated North Carolina in the 1940s.

It’s time to move away from the city, Lydia says.

“We’re fearful. We’re fearful of the police officers,” says Lydia. “My nephews, my sons—especially all the males in our family—we advise them not to be in Philadelphia.”

© Copyright 2001, 2006 by the National Newspaper Publishers Association and Todd Steven Burroughs, Ph.D.