One thing I’ve learned over the years is that most people are casual political onlookers who pretend to be experts. They pay attention around election time, pick up a few talking points, and suddenly think they understand the electorate better than anyone else.
People like me geek out over politics the way other people geek out over sports, Dungeons & Dragons, and high-fantasy book series. I haven’t been a casual onlooker for many years. I eat, sleep, drink, shit, and breathe politics. Since I was a child, I’ve felt that staying informed was part of my civic duty. That means paying attention to who is running, why they are running, and what they actually stand for.
I shouldn’t be special in this way. For a long time, I assumed that plenty of people approached politics the same way I did. A peace rally and demonstration I attended in 2003 helped shake me out of that assumption.
Since then, I’ve watched people repeat bullshit talking points from the major cable news networks over and over again until they mistake repetition for knowledge. They believe what they’ve been fed, then treat anyone who questions it as politically naïve.
Meanwhile, too many of these supposed experts have no real feel for working-class and middle-class America. They don’t understand how squeezed people feel, how angry they are, or how tired they’ve become of being told to accept less while the people at the top keep getting more.
The certainty that Bernie Sanders is “unelectable” reminds me of the same certainty I heard about Barack Obama before he started winning primaries. People swore up and down that America wasn’t ready for a Black president. They treated that assumption as a fact.
I disagreed.
When I was tapped to work with Obama’s campaign in the summer of 2007, I committed to it. That wasn’t because I thought Obama was a messiah or because I belonged to some political cult. Dennis Kucinich was my first choice, based on principles. But I also understood that Kucinich had a snowball’s chance in hell of winning, while Obama had the political talent to pull it off.
I could distinguish between the candidate whose positions I preferred and the candidate whose ability to win I believed people were underestimating. Apparently, that distinction is difficult for people who assume that supporting a campaign means worshipping the candidate.
What frustrates me is how often political conventional wisdom gets passed off as expertise. People inside the same circles repeat the same assumptions, reinforce one another, and then act shocked when voters do something they didn’t expect.
At some point, we have to ask whether these people understand the electorate or just understand each other.
Too many political commentators, party insiders, and casual observers are living in a bubble. They underestimate the anger of American workers while overestimating the authority of the people who tell them what is politically possible.
We saw that in 2016. I hoped that election would force the media, the Democratic Party, and the people who followed their predictions to examine what they had missed.
Instead, too many went right back to the same assumptions and the same dismissive bullshit.
Working people are telling us how angry they are. They are telling us how squeezed they feel. If our response is to lecture them about what they should accept, we shouldn’t be surprised when they stop listening to us.
Pay attention. The people repeating conventional wisdom the loudest are not automatically the people who understand what is happening.
I have been a fan of Shaquille O’Neal for decades. I bought Shaqs (his shoes)back in the day. I have defended his hip-hop career against people who act like he was a garbage rapper. I even listen to his EDM music. I love seeing him continue to get endorsements and get paid, and I have praised his generosity and down-to-earth persona.
But being a fan does not require me to ignore behavior that disappoints me. And being generous does not make someone immune to criticism.
That is where too many conversations about Black celebrities fall apart. The moment someone criticizes a wealthy, famous Black person, people start counting donations, comparing bank accounts, and asking what the critic has done for the community. Apparently, whoever writes the biggest check gets the final word on Black people and our liberation.
I do not accept that.
Many Black people were angry that Shaquille O’Neal would happily accept an honorary badge from an administration that many of us perceive as hostile and antagonistic towards the overall Black community.
My frustration with Shaq comes from the distance between the man I admire and some of the positions he takes publicly. I can appreciate his generosity and still question his politics. I can celebrate his success and still be disappointed when he lends his voice to narratives that undermine legitimate Black grievances.
Those things can exist at the same time.
When I described Shaq as having “coon tendencies,” some conservative White people and non-Black Latinos responded by attacking my name, my skin color, and my Blackness. Others reached for a conveniently selected Malcolm X quote. Very few seemed interested in understanding the criticism itself.
And I think it is hilarious that people who claim to oppose identity politics suddenly become experts on who is Black enough when a Black person says something they do not like.
My criticism is about behavior: Black people reinforcing anti-Black narratives, seeking approval at our community’s expense, or treating proximity to White power as more important than Black self-determination. It is not a declaration that every Black person who disagrees with me is a sellout. It is also not a label I reserve for Republicans.
Many Black activists and other Black people saw Jay Z’s deal with Roger Goodell as a selfish and self-serving move that would create goodwill for the NFL but would not give Colin Kaepernick his job back nor protect players from being punished for speaking out for Black issues.
Democrats get criticized too. Over the years, I have criticized Barack Obama, Jay-Z, Hakeem Jeffries, Jim Clyburn, Kamala Harris, and others. There are plenty of Democrats I do not like or trust. A party affiliation does not purchase immunity from me any more than a donation does.
I see Republicans as more overtly hostile to Black interests, but that does not mean I am obligated to defend every Black Democrat. In a hypothetical election, I would gladly support a better White or other non-Black third-party candidate over two Black candidates whose politics fail my community. The question is whether that person’s values align with mine and whether their policies would bring tangible improvements to our lives.
Many Black artists and athletes are indirectly complicit in the mistreatment of our community when they agree to protect their celebrity and pay and perform for white crowds that are hostile to their overall community. Their responsibility and allegiance to the community take a back seat to potential paychecks and career advancement.
Black skin alone does not establish a commitment to Black people.
That applies to people who terrorize our neighborhoods too. Killers, rapists, muggers, burglars, and robbers are destroying the same communities I want to see liberated. I should not have to attach a paragraph condemning them every time I criticize a celebrity or politician.
Law-abiding Black people do not enjoy losing loved ones. We do not enjoy discovering that somebody stole our catalytic converter and that we have to replace it with money we do not have. We do not enjoy being afraid in our own neighborhoods. The suggestion that we tolerate or celebrate these things is racist as fuck.
Black people are the people most negatively affected by Black criminality. We do not like criminality any more than other communities. Most crimes, violent or otherwise, happen within communities. In fact, many of the draconian laws of the 1990s, which led to mass incarceration of Black men, were requested and supported by many in the Black community at that time. However, there are grassroots efforts by many organizations in the Black community to bring awareness and fight against this criminal element. This is mostly goes ignored by the local and national media.
There is constant work happening in Black communities to prevent violence, support young people, and improve conditions. Much of it happens without cameras, national recognition, or a celebrity’s bank account. People who only drive through these neighborhoods on their way to work often know nothing about that work, yet feel qualified to lecture the people doing it.
This is why the “What have you done?” response annoys me so much. Someone’s unfamiliarity with my work does not mean that work does not exist. I do not owe a stranger my résumé so they can weigh it against a multimillion-dollar check.
I prefer not to brag about my work or post too much about it. I do what I do out of love for my community, not for recognition. However, my service to my community was questioned by those who don’t know me. I am active. Can I be more active? Yes. But there are many things in this collage that I could add because there are no photos of that work.
My work is my work. It is for the love of my community, not my personal glory.
With Shaq, one of the moments that really disappointed me was his appearance on Fox & Friends criticizing Colin Kaepernick’s national anthem protest. Shaq questioned the protest’s timing and method. I remember that appearance because of what the protest represented and where he chose to criticize it.[1]
There is a rule that Black people do not attack other Black people in media that is hostile and antagonistic toward the collective Black community. The way that conservative media, such as Fox News and the Rush Limbaugh Show, normalized and legitimized thinly veiled anti-Black racism should be studied for future generations. Shaq is entitled to his personal opinion, and part of me understands why he feels the way that he does. However, Shaq appearing on Fox and Friends to make it and legitimize their racially biased stances was a cardinal sin for many of us.
I understand that Shaq grew up in a military family. I understand that he may feel a particular reverence for the anthem. But Kaepernick was protesting injustice, and I saw that appearance as another opportunity for a hostile audience to dismiss Black concerns instead of confronting them.
To me, Fox & Friends has repeatedly helped turn legitimate Black criticism of this country into a debate over our behavior, our gratitude, and whether we are showing enough respect. That is a platform I would expect someone with Shaq’s influence to approach with care.
It left me feeling that protecting his public image and business relationships mattered more than standing ten toes down when Black people needed support. That is my criticism of his public choices. I cannot read his mind, and I am not claiming to know everything he does privately.
But I can respond to what he puts in front of the public.
And no, pointing to his philanthropy does not settle that conversation.
Money helps. Those of us who organize and fight these battles appreciate every cent we can get. A donation can feed people, keep a program open, or pay for something a struggling family desperately needs. I am not minimizing that.
What I reject is the assumption that generosity automatically proves a commitment to liberation, or that a wealthy donor has done more than everyone who has sacrificed years of time, effort, and personal resources.
Philanthropic work helps and is appreciated, but they are also done for good public relations and for cameras and recognition. Many people quietly do a lot for the community by donating their time, energy, and limited resources.
Philanthropy can come from compassion. It can also produce favorable publicity, protect a reputation, or serve business interests. Sometimes those motives overlap. The existence of a donation does not tell us everything about the donor’s politics or character.
History gives us plenty of reasons to keep that distinction in mind. In 1914, the Ludlow Massacre killed striking workers and family members in Colorado. Eleven children and two women died after fire swept through the tent colony. The conflict involved the Rockefeller-controlled Colorado Fuel and Iron Company, and the aftermath included efforts to repair John D. Rockefeller Jr.’s public reputation.[2]
The Ludlow Massacre led to the birth of modern public relations.
The lesson I take from that history is that a wealthy person’s public generosity should not make us forget the other ways their power affects people.
I am not equating Shaq with the people responsible for Ludlow. I am also not saying that his donations are a scheme to launder his image. I am explaining why “he gives money away” cannot be the end of every discussion about his public behavior.
I appreciate the money. I still have questions about the politics.
The same applies to other Black celebrities, including Stephen A. Smith and Bill Cosby. Too often, money and fame become shields against criticism. People act as though generosity erases every harmful statement, every bad decision, and every legitimate concern.
It does not.
Many conservatives weaponize cherry-picked words of past Black leaders against Black people who fight for justice, fairness, equity, inclusion, and liberation today. Yet, they often miss the context of those weaponized quotes.
This confusion also shows up in the way White conservatives invoke Malcolm X. They love his criticism of White liberals and the Democratic Party, but somehow lose interest when his criticism turns toward White conservatives.
That takes some serious caucasity.
Malcolm’s criticism of liberals came out of his frustration with White political power, manipulation, and promises that did not produce freedom. In his 1963 speech “God’s Judgment of White America,” he compared White conservatives to wolves and White liberals to foxes. The fox’s apparent friendliness did not make it safe, and the wolf’s open hostility did not make it an ally.[3]
Quoting the part about the fox does not turn the wolf into a friend of Black people.
Malcolm’s positions developed over time, and his life deserves more attention than a meme or a clip stripped of context. But Black people thinking for ourselves and deciding our own course remained central to his politics. That is part of what I admire about him.
The most important message from Malcolm X is often ignored by conservatives who quote-mine him. This most important message was Black self-determination and liberation through Black nationalism.
And I take that seriously when dealing with the White left, too.
I do not get my marching orders from White people. Period. Dot.
I have criticized White liberals, progressives, and leftists for racism, for treating Black struggles as opportunities to advance their own agendas, and for assuming they have the right to direct movements they did not build. Being on the left does not exempt anyone from that criticism.
I experienced some of this firsthand in Ferguson in 2014. I remember members of the New Black Panther Party and White anarchists giving conflicting instructions through bullhorns. The Black organizers I heard were urging people to respect the curfew to avoid arrests and bloodshed. The anarchists were urging the crowd to ignore it and confront the police.
What stayed with me was the willingness of outsiders to encourage a confrontation whose consequences would fall on Black people and the surrounding community. From where I stood, one group was thinking about protecting the people in front of them. The other seemed much more interested in confrontation.
Black bodies are not disposable material for someone else’s revolution.
My account of that night does not explain every protest or every person involved. But it explains why I do not automatically trust someone just because they claim to share my politics. Solidarity requires listening, accountability, and respect for the people who have to live with the consequences.
Many leftists use Black issues to wage their own personal revolutions while ignoring the many costs to the Black community. They don’t necessarily have to live with the fallout from fires, looting, and vandalism in predominantly Black communities.
I am a Black leftist because of my own values, experiences, and study. That position does not require permission from the White right or instructions from the White left.
It also does not require me to defend my Blackness every time someone dislikes what I say.
Yes, I am light-skinned. So were Malcolm X, Frederick Douglass, and plenty of other people whose commitment to Black people is difficult to dispute. What, exactly, is attacking my complexion supposed to prove?
My skin color doesn’t make me less Black.
My skin color does not erase my ancestry, my experiences, or my identity. Neither does my name.
My name is Mario. There are plenty of Marios and DeMarios in the Black community. Does a Black man named William become English? Does a Black woman named Natasha become Russian? Was Kobe Bryant Japanese because of his first name?
I am Black. I am Black American. I am not Italian, and my olive complexion is not evidence that I am secretly Mediterranean. My family history includes African, European, and Indian ancestry. I do not need to turn my genealogy into an exhibit every time somebody wants to dodge my argument.
If the criticism is about my position, address my position. My complexion is not a rebuttal.
And disagreement with a celebrity does not automatically mean jealousy. I have had a good life. I am educated. I have not starved. I have great children. I do not need Shaq’s wealth or fame to appreciate my own life.
In fact, part of my affection for Shaq comes from something we have in common: we were both raised by stepfathers who loved us and treated us as their own.
My father was an entrepreneur, a leader, and a pillar in the community where I grew up. He provided a good life for our family, but he also helped people around us. I watched him help pay for funerals when families could not afford to bury their loved ones. I watched him feed hungry children. I watched him clean up our street and alley and make sure we took responsibility for the place where we lived.
I watched him help raise other people’s children. There are people in my community who still thank him for what he did.
I have tried to follow that example the best I can. When Shaq talks about his father, Phil, I recognize something in that relationship. Two children raised by Black men who taught us about responsibility, manhood, and service to the community. That matters to me. I feel the same way about my dad that he does about his, even though we are not the their biological children.
One of the things that drew me to Shaquille O’Neal was his relationship with Phillip Harrison. O’Neal is not biologically related to Harrison, but he considers him his father. To Shaq, Phil is not a stepdad. Phil is his father and is respected and honored as his father. This is something that O’Neal and I have in common. Although our situations may be a little different, we both consider our stepdads our “real” fathers. The love that Shaq has for his dad is good to witness. Phil Harrison’s guidance made Shaq the man he is today and pushed him toward success.
It is one reason my criticism comes with disappointment. There is affection behind it.
I am also not placing myself above the problem I am describing. I have to check my own thoughts, feelings, and assumptions all the time. White supremacy and the idea of Black inferiority are taught throughout this society. Being Black does not automatically protect us from absorbing them.
All of us struggle with White bias and anti-Black thoughts. I am not immune to this way of thinking. We have been conditioned in many ways since birth to see Whiteness more positively than Blackness.
I do not believe any of us should assume we are finished unlearning those lessons. I certainly am not.
That is why I want us to be able to discuss anti-Black behavior without immediately turning the conversation into a defense of someone’s fame, bank account, or party affiliation. If I am reinforcing something harmful to our community, I need to examine it too.
Shaquille O’Neal is a celebrated athlete, entertainer, businessman, and philanthropist. Those accomplishments are real. They do not automatically make him a leader of Black people, or make his judgment on our political struggles more valuable than the judgment of people doing the work every day.
I want us to stop treating celebrity status as a qualification for community leadership. Selling products, winning championships, and becoming wealthy do not necessarily prepare someone to guide a people toward freedom.
Malcolm X’s biting commentary regarding the elevation of celebrities as Black leaders has a lot of truth in it. It is the white power structure that elevated their status, and many of these celebrities don’t want to bite the proverbial hand that feeds them.
I am unimpressed by Black obedience and respectability politics. Celebrating Black excellence or Black capitalism does little for me when the celebration ends with a few individuals becoming rich while the conditions facing the rest of our community remain intact.
What I respect is Black liberation and self-sufficiency. I want Black global advancement and autonomy. I want us to build the institutions, knowledge, resources, and collective power to stand on our own and make decisions about our own people.
My dream and my goal for the future is true Black liberation. This is not an anti-White vision. This is a world in which Black people have parity with White and Asian people. Black people building, owning, and deciding our own future. Education, healthcare, food, technology, media—and collective power across the diaspora.
That commitment runs through much of what I admire in Malcolm X and the broader history of Black self-determination. It is why I am an unapologetic Pan-Africanist and a proud Black American. It is why I study Malcolm, Dr. King, and the other giants whose shoulders I stand upon, even when their approaches differed and even if I disagree with each of them on minor details.
My loyalty is to my people and our liberation. No politician, party, celebrity, or donor gets to place themselves above that commitment.
I can love Shaq and still be disappointed in him. I can appreciate his generosity and still expect more from his public choices. I can criticize him without hating him, envying him, or denying the good he has done.
And I should not have to write a whole damn dissertation to explain that.
I’ve realized that White conservatives love Black people who tell them exactly what they want to hear about other Black people. These people get away with saying the shit that their White supporters can’t say without being correctly labeled as racist. So they need Black mouthpieces to label Black people as “EBT Americans,” “ghetto,” and “hood rats,” while conveniently ignoring how many White people receive assistance or engage in the same behaviors they condemn in Black people.
But “redneck” culture and poor White culture are often celebrated in country music and the mainstream, while similar expressions of poor Black culture are treated as subversive and problematic. Apparently, the behavior isn’t always the problem. Sometimes, it’s the color of the people doing it.
Being a Black person who produces anti-Black content online is an easy way to get notoriety and profits very fast. Many conservative White fans laud them as “freethinking” “truth-tellers,” but, these people’s connection to the Black community is permanently marred.
I was watching a video compilation of Black people responding to allegations that Texas Roadhouse employees had posted about spitting in Black patrons’ food. The controversy has prompted calls for a boycott. And sure enough, there was a Black man celebrating the idea of White employees spitting in the food of Black paying customers.
In his Uncle Ruckus-style rant, he called Black patrons the names I mentioned earlier and said Texas Roadhouse should “keep doing what they are doing” to keep Black people out so others could dine in “peace.”
Never mind the chaotic restaurant incidents involving White people. Never mind White people dining and dashing. Never mind all the examples that contradict this racist narrative. Somehow, when a White person acts out, it’s an individual incident. When a Black person acts out, it becomes an indictment of Black people as a whole.
Do you think conservative White people came after this “pick-me” for celebrating racial discrimination and alleged food tampering? No. They co-signed. And then they wonder why we call them racist.
Self-hating Black mouthpieces for White supremacy tell many conservative whites exactly what they want to hear. Many of these Black commentators downplay anti-Black racism in the West while painting White people as the victims of constant discrimination. The irony is that those who claim that marginalized people have a “victim complex” love to cosplay as victims themselves.
I don’t know whether this man believes everything he says or is chasing the attention and money that anti-Black commentary can bring. Either way, the result is the same: Black people are demeaned, and his audience gets a Black voice to validate its prejudices.
Liberal, progressive, and leftist Black people don’t want our dining experiences ruined by people acting out in public, either. But the difference is that many of us separate problematic behavior from race, ethnicity, and even class. And even when we are annoyed by the uncouth behavior of certain patrons, we are not going to celebrate someone tampering with their food based on race and the assumptions that come with it.
I tip well. I also have problems with the history of tipping in the United States and the way employers use it to shift responsibility for paying workers onto customers. Having worked for tips for years, I’m well aware of the stereotype that Black people don’t tip.
However, whether someone tips or not is not an excuse for poor customer service or mistreating anyone who comes into an establishment. An optional tip is a courtesy. It should not take the place of an adequate living wage. And it certainly should not determine whether someone’s food is safe to eat.
But I tip well anyway because I know it is appreciated, because it can lead to better service, and because I want to help people.
Although many of these Black commentators are conservatives… or PRETEND to be conservatives as part of their grift, it is NOT necessarily conservatism that is the issue with these people. Rather, it is the fact that many of these people are almost constantly contrarian and antithetical to issues that the majority of Black people champion.
Black people being anti-Black is never a good thing and should not be rewarded. Yet White conservatives are quick to embrace Black people who demean other Black people while treating White people as the exemplary model for humanity. Wrap it in a flag, call it “patriotism,” and suddenly contempt for your own people becomes a marketable personality.
Many of these commentators wear the backlash from other Black people as a badge of honor. Their White supporters call them “freethinkers” and “truth-tellers” for repeating the same racist talking points those supporters already believed.
What, exactly, is free-thinking about telling an audience everything it wants to hear?
You can criticize Black people. You can criticize public behavior. You can demand accountability. But celebrating racial humiliation and the idea of someone contaminating Black customers’ food is not accountability. It is anti-Blackness, and having a Black person deliver the message does not make it any less racist.
No one is the savior of Black people except Black people. And even then, only a few of us are dedicated to the upliftment and liberation of Black people. This is why we shouldn’t count on other people to rescue or even respect us. This is why, when I see ADOS and FBA fighting other Black folks over imaginary money that we may never get, I shake my head.
Reparations, although owed, will not help us. Black capitalism will not help us collectively. Begging White people will never grant us respect, liberation, and self-determination. What is needed is for Black people to unite. Black people need education (and not just in a few subjects) to become engineers, computer programmers, architects, medical doctors, and much more. Our aspirations cannot all be about being an entrepreneur, getting “the bag,” and living a “soft life.” Ultramaterialism and vulgar displays of wealth do nothing for our people as a whole.
The point is that we have to roll up our own sleeves. We have to clean up our own streets. We have to build and support our own schools. We have to build our own business hubs. We have to discipline our own. We need our own media. This is not about exclusion. This is about empowering ourselves.
This was the message of people like Malcolm X. The same people who love to quote-mine Malcolm X to attack Black liberals, progressives, and leftists conveniently ignore Malcolm X’s overarching message of Black self-determination and liberation.
When people in the LGBTQIA community make blanket statements about transphobia, homophobia, and other forms of bigotry against their community, and those statements are not directed specifically at me, I don’t get angry. I sit back and listen. Do I always agree? No. But I listen. I know that I have my own bigotry against the LGBTQIA community to work out.
When women talk about rape culture and misogyny, and their comments are not directed specifically at me, I don’t get angry. I sit back and listen. Do I always agree? No. I still have much to learn, and I know I need to check my own sexism and misogyny.
When my own people (Black people) talk about how Black people are cooning, and their comments are not directed specifically at me, I don’t get angry. I sit back and listen. Again, I don’t always agree… at first… but many times, I learn to adopt those positions. I know that I am guilty of cooning sometimes and have to check my internal anti-Black bias.
Hit dogs holler. If you are deeply offended by a post that is not about you, to the point of being belligerent and lashing out like an angry child, maybe that is because, deep down, you know you are guilty but don’t want to grow and change. Growth and change require that we first admit there is something wrong. Growth and change require that we be willing to feel the discomfort we’ve made others feel. It requires introspection. It requires asking ourselves hard questions and accepting honest answers we don’t like. It requires that we listen to the voices of marginalized people we’ve affected in ways that go beyond hurt feelings, including acts of violence.
I know that I am guilty of many things I don’t like. I know that I wrestle with many forms of bigotry. I was raised to be homophobic and transphobic. I was influenced to accept and participate in the exploitation of women. I was conditioned by society to believe that the White man’s ice was colder and his grass was greener. This was all programmed into me from birth and through childhood, and I’ve spent nearly a lifetime trying to deprogram myself.
So our job is not to pout, cry, bitch, moan, complain, and act out when people are informing us about not only their own experiences with bigotry but also the proven pervasiveness of that bigotry and the continued and accepted marginalization of their communities. Our job is to see, listen, learn, and, most importantly, accept our roles and change. Yes, it is a long process. Yes, we do backslide. Yes, it is uncomfortable and demands that we take responsibility for actions we initially thought were benign. But the goal is growth. The goal is being a better human being.
Many White people love to deny the role that race and racism play in our society. For example, I erroneously posted about White convicted felons making more money than college-educated Black men with no criminal records on my Facebook profile. But I was wrong. It wasn’t necessarily pay that was the issue (even though pay disparities are an issue when looking at the overall populations of White and Black men). Rather, it was who gets contacted more frequently for job interviews. Either way, every factor and excuse in the book was offered instead of an examination or admission of White bias.
Here is the thing: If White convicted felons are contacted more for interviews or potential employment than Black men with no records, based solely on applications and résumés, what is the factor? Studies show that applications and résumés with certain ZIP codes or “Black-sounding” names are rejected at very high rates. You cannot gauge work ethic from someone’s name, especially when the applications show identical work histories. And if someone has to choose between a person who was disciplined enough to never get into any serious trouble with the law and someone with a criminal record, chances are that most people would choose the person with the clean record over the person who served time.
Now, this is not to say that convicted felons (sorry for the language) aren’t deserving of good jobs after paying their debts to society. This is not to say that convicted felons wouldn’t make good employees with strong work ethics. But this is to say that choosing White convicted felons over Black men with no criminal records… for the same jobs, with the same work histories… is troubling. Especially when the comparison between White men with no record and White convicted felons shows a strong preference, by more than double the rate, for White men with no record, while Black men with criminal records have a very hard time getting hired.
How else does one explain this discrepancy?
This has nothing to do with work ethic, white-collar jobs versus blue-collar jobs, choosing liberal arts degrees, or any number of other excuses offered.
What’s worse is that when I presented the study showing this, no one actually read it, and a few dismissed it outright with no real argument about why it should be ignored. There was no argument about methodology. No argument about results. Nothing. There were plenty of racist assumptions. Ironically, those assumptions basically proved the premise of my post and even the conclusion of the study (or studies) used as evidence.
Over 1,000 people responded to it, most of them with childish insults and racist comments. Others were defensive. I can count on one hand the number of people who were actually interested in the study. And when they couldn’t refute the claim I was making, they went silent. No apologies. No further comments.
“You just need someone to blame for your failures!”
I don’t post these things to blame White people for my own personal failures. This is what I keep saying all the time. Despite my focus on racism, I had plenty of opportunities. I had access to a vehicle and reliable public transportation, so I could get a job anywhere in the metropolitan area. I’ve mentioned a few times that my olive (or beige) skin color may have opened doors that were closed to my darker-skinned brothers and sisters and gained me access to places and social circles. This is what privilege looks like. My name is ambiguous, and people don’t know what I am from an application. My ZIP code is in a somewhat affluent and racially diverse part of the city.
So this was never about me. Most of my posts aren’t personal unless I specifically say they are. If I am talking about societal issues, they are usually not about me.
I am not a member of the LGBTQIA community, but I sometimes post about their struggles. I have never served time in prison, but I sometimes post about people who have. I have never lived or worked on a farm, but I post about farmers’ issues. I didn’t grow up on welfare or need it as an adult (except financial aid for college, if you want to count that), but I constantly advocate for people who receive public aid. I am not a woman, but I speak out about rape culture and misogyny. I talk about relationships, and although my marriage failed, it was not due to many of the issues I discuss when talking about relationships.
Like I’ve stated many times before, the motivation for my posts can come from anywhere. I have ADHD, remember. Videos I watch could spark a post. Seeing something happen can spark a post. Hell, a random thought on the porcelain throne while pinching a loaf could spark a post (sorry for the visual). And most of the time, it has nothing to do with my personal life, which I try to keep as private as humanly possible.
For example, posting pictures from Ethiopia on Facebook was unusual because I usually hide my traveling. I don’t like many of the questions.
But I digress.
On White bias and Anti-Black racism
White bias is normal in a country that has made Whiteness the exemplary model for humanity for the last four or five centuries. Mentioning this is not an attack on White people, per se, because they are not the only people mentally infected by this… condition. Truthfully, we all are infected, including Black people. This is how we have all been conditioned to think after 400-plus years of pro-White propaganda and the twin philosophies of White supremacy and Black inferiority. You cannot imagine the number of Black people I’ve had to check personally for spouting anti-Black racist ideas and talking points. There have been plenty of times when I needed to be checked, too. It’s just the way it is.
The Repeating of Charlie-Kirk-Style Crime Statistics Without Adequate Context or Examination of Other Factors for Racist Reasons
But anti-Black racism isn’t imagined. It is real. Even the skewed crime statistics are a product of racism. For example, FBI Table 43 is not about who committed a crime or who was convicted of crimes. It is about who was arrested for certain crimes. What FBI Table 43 proves is not Black criminality but the perception of Black criminality and systemic racism in the criminal justice system. This claim is backed up by the OLL (Online Library of Liberty).
Let me hit you with some issues:
The FBI’s Uniform Crime Reporting (UCR) program, which collects the statistics used in Table 43, is strictly voluntary, not mandatory, according to FBI.gov.
Although 87% of law enforcement agencies participate, the vast majority of those agencies are from big cities and their metropolitan areas, which all participate. Many small towns and rural areas don’t participate at all.
Participation is high in heavily populated areas but lower in more sparsely populated areas.
Black people are 7.5 times more likely to be wrongly convicted of murder than White people, according to the Death Penalty Information Center. This does not include total arrests.
The rate and risk of wrongful convictions for Black defendants are even higher when the victim is White.
Only around 70% of people arrested and charged with murder are convicted of murder.
Black people are much more likely to be exonerated for most crimes than White people, with the exceptions of child sexual abuse and white-collar crime, for which White people are arrested and convicted more often, according to the Syracuse Law Review. As a matter of fact, over half (53%) of all people exonerated since 1989 were Black.
Several White people have committed crimes and reported that someone Black committed them, leading to the arrests of Black men before it was determined that someone White—usually the person reporting the crime—had committed the crime and lied. It happened so much that the phrase “Blame a Black Man Syndrome” was coined.
I don’t post all of this to deny that many Black men have a problem with conflict resolution that leads to homicides. Nor am I saying that the Black murder rate isn’t still too high compared to our percentage of the overall population. However, what I am saying is that the crime statistics used to construct racist narratives all over the internet and in White supremacist circles are misinterpreted and grossly exaggerated. Arrests are treated like convictions. Partial numbers are treated like the whole story. Numbers are weaponized without any examination of the factors, other than DNA, contributing to them.
“All The Factors” Except When Being Racist
And this brings me full circle to what I was talking about at the beginning of this post. Various factors were presented as reasons for the disparity in hiring rates between White convicted felons and Black men with no criminal records. Many people rejected the premise and the numbers while saying I had to look at “all of the factors.” However, these same people were more than happy to spout crime statistics without any examination of “all of the factors.”
They are not totally wrong. All factors do need to be looked at. But it is hard to deny the conclusion of a controlled study in which the only real variable was race… or perceived race. There are not too many White men named “Quontavious Davis” from the Riverdale neighborhood of Chicago (the name and place were more than likely not used in the actual study). But “Brayden Braithwaite” from the Mount Greenwood neighborhood of Chicago could have a felony burglary or rape conviction and get a callback for a job over Quontavious, who navigated poverty, ever-present gangs, and various vices found in financially struggling communities with no criminal history other than speeding tickets.
What’s worse (and even more ironic) is that the same people who were pissed off and lambasting me for being an anti-White “bigot” were the same people who either ignored or positively reacted to comments about “chimping out,” skewed racist crime statistics, assumptions that White men with felony convictions had a better work ethic than Black men who overcame the many traps set in “the hood,” and many other racist posts. This actually supports the point I was making. But many of them were “too high on their own supply” to see that.
Well, well, well. Republicans around the country, especially in Arkansas, are upset that Sarah Huckabee Sanders’ new political ad shows a young White man as a “welfare queen.” They are now turning against her for portraying a White man on welfare. They argue that White people have been discriminated against for decades (who has the “victim mindset” again?) and that the commercial should have shown a woman, particularly a Black woman (or a Black person in general), as the problem welfare recipient.
And part of me agrees that the welfare recipient in the ad was not an accurate portrayal… but not for the racist and sexist reasons they are citing.
The trope of the lazy young gamer is problematic by itself and many of these unemployed gamers are not on welfare. If they are not actively looking for work, they are usually being financially supported by parents, spouses, domestic partners, siblings, or other family members. Plus, most people who game regularly are employed.
As for actual welfare recipients, more White people are on welfare than Black people. This is the part where the racists start talking about per capita. But in this case, per capita doesn’t matter. Most people in Arkansas who are on welfare are White (54%). Only 31% of welfare recipients in Arkansas are Black. This means that the face of welfare in Arkansas should more than likely be White, since more White people are on welfare than Black people by sheer number.
The trope of lazy welfare recipients was popularized in the 1960s after Black people were allowed to participate in those programs. This was also when many conservative Southern politicians from both parties started imposing eligibility rules for welfare that removed men, especially Black men, from the home. Contrary to a popular talking point, it was not President Lyndon Johnson who removed Black men from the home. It was conservative Southern and Midwestern legislatures and governors, most of them Democrats, who started these policies locally and pushed for them to be implemented nationally. These policies were designed to punish Black families for participating in programs originally intended only for White families. Since then, Black people using public housing, housing assistance, food stamps, and other programs we collectively think of as “welfare” have been classified as “lazy” and saddled with other negative stereotypes. This happened despite many of them working low-paying jobs and despite many White families receiving welfare for generations.
White conservatives need the narrative of Black welfare abuse to advance White supremacy and mask their own dependence on government assistance. In their minds, they use assistance because they need it. Black people use it because they supposedly lack morals and diligence. That is what they think. And then they wonder why they are constantly called “racist” and “bigoted.”
They also hate that the commercial didn’t feature a woman. Because, Lord knows, you can feature a man with a chronic disability receiving Social Security benefits while mostly appearing able-bodied, and that disability never seems to bother them except when asked to work. But let’s demonize the woman he had children with while ignoring his failure to provide for them. Behind many women who need welfare is a deadbeat father who doesn’t provide for his children.
This is not to shit on people receiving any form of welfare, including disability benefits. However, we need to stop with the racist and sexist tropes, stereotypes, and narratives around welfare.
Do people abuse welfare? Yes. All types of people abuse welfare, including the rich…especially the rich. Elon Musk is one of the biggest “welfare queens” out there, spending much of his time playing video games and reposting Nazi propaganda on X. But no one talks about him or gets angry at him. “But Elon Musk is a ‘job creator!’” So are the Somali daycare owners you are now demonizing based on a deceptively produced and edited video by a conservative, made to make the whole community look bad. Again, you wonder why we think of you as “racist” and “bigoted.”
The point is that all tropes are bad, especially when they are used to demonize the economically downtrodden. Whether it is a Black family, a single White mother, or a young unemployed gamer (of any race), these tropes and stereotypes need to go. We need to stop trying to punish individuals and families for being poor. We need to stop defining and demonizing whole groups of poor people based on the actions of a relative few. We need to stop the exploitation of labor and theft of wages by large corporations that underpay their employees and make them need welfare to live.
This is my problem with Sarah Huckabee Sanders’ campaign commercial. It’s the same old conservative pastime of punching down. With Sanders, the targets are unemployed gamers and all welfare recipients. With her conservative critics, the targets are women and Black people. It all has to stop.
One of the biggest mistakes I see in some corners of the Black community is the tendency to give white people far too much credit.
White people are not omniscient.
They are not omnipotent.
They do not spend centuries carrying out flawless master plans that unfold exactly as intended. History simply doesn’t support that view.
Most governments, corporations, and powerful institutions don’t operate like the cartoonish villains in a Hollywood movie. Their conspiracies (when they exist) are usually messy, short-sighted, reactive, and often exposed much sooner than people imagine. They make mistakes. They fight among themselves. They pursue immediate political or economic gains without fully understanding the long-term consequences of their decisions.
History is full of examples where powerful people achieved one objective only to create entirely new problems they never anticipated.
That doesn’t make oppression any less real. I am certainly not arguing that. Rather, it simply makes the oppressors more human.
Unfortunately, some people have embraced a worldview where every historical event is interpreted as evidence of an elaborate, centuries-long conspiracy that only a handful of self-proclaimed “enlightened” YouTubers can supposedly decode.
I don’t buy it.
Ironically, this kind of thinking can become a form of white supremacy itself.
Why?
Because it assumes that Europeans and their descendants possess almost supernatural intelligence and foresight, and that every outcome in history happened exactly as they intended. It turns them into all-knowing masterminds while reducing everyone else to passive spectators with no agency of their own.
History is far more complicated than that. Empires rise, and empires fall. Wars produce unintended consequences. Economic systems evolve. And, technology changes societies in unexpected ways.
Entire civilizations have been transformed by accidents, disease, environmental changes, and decisions that looked reasonable at the time but produced completely unforeseen results.
The world we live in today wasn’t built from one perfect blueprint. Instead, it emerged from countless successes, failures, conflicts, compromises, and historical accidents.
The same applies to European dominance.
Europeans didn’t become globally dominant because they were biologically smarter than everyone else. Wealth, geography, trade networks, military competition, access to resources, political institutions, and centuries of technological development all contributed to that outcome. And let’s not forget the unfortunate accidental “luck” of wiping out most of the people on two continents with new diseases. The Innovation tends to flourish where societies have the resources, security, and incentives to pursue it.
More importantly, what we choose to believe affects what we choose to do.
If we convince ourselves that every aspect of our current reality was perfectly engineered hundreds of years ago, we risk believing that nothing can be changed. This fatalism has never liberated anyone and saps people of any real empowerment.
This is one reason I have little patience for theories claiming that the countless slave ledgers documenting the forced transportation of Africans across the Atlantic are all fabricated because “they” supposedly want us to believe we’re Africans instead of Native Americans or ancient Israelites.
The historical evidence overwhelmingly points to the fact that Black Americans are primarily descendants of West and West-Central Africans. Accepting that reality doesn’t diminish us. It does the opposite. It connects us to one of the richest, oldest, and most diverse regions in human history.
Instead of spending our energy chasing increasingly elaborate conspiracy theories, we should be asking far more practical questions:
How do we build stronger Black-owned businesses?
How do we create institutions that outlive us?
How do we increase homeownership?
How do we educate our children about African and African American history?
How do we develop economic relationships with countries throughout Africa and the wider African diaspora?
How do we build wealth instead of merely talking about it?
These questions are much more important than hanging on to weird conspiracy theories.
Nation-building is harder than conspiracy-building. It requires discipline instead of speculation, investment instead of internet debates, and cooperation instead of division.
If we truly want liberation, then our greatest challenge isn’t uncovering another secret plot.
Our greatest challenge is building communities that are economically independent, culturally confident, politically organized, and connected to the broader African world.
That’s work worth doing. Everything else is just a distraction.
I meant to write this post a long time ago, but I wanted time to think before adding my voice to one of the most emotionally charged and controversial conflicts in the world.
The horrific October 7, 2023 Hamas attack on Israeli civilians shocked the world. More than a thousand people were killed, many others were injured, and hundreds were taken hostage. The deliberate targeting of civilians is a war crime. It was morally wrong then, and it is morally wrong now. It deserves condemnation from governments, human rights organizations, and anyone who claims to value human life.
Before I go any further, I want to make something absolutely clear because I know how discussions like this often unfold.
The opinions expressed here are mine and mine alone. They do not represent my family, my friends, any organization I’m affiliated with, my political allies, or anyone else in my life. If you disagree with what I’ve written, direct your criticism toward me. Don’t harass people who have nothing to do with my opinions. I am fully capable of standing behind my own words.
I also want to address something else before anyone tries to define my position for me or paint me as something that I am not.
I have no hatred toward Jewish people.
I have never embraced the claim that Ashkenazi Jews are somehow “not real Jews.” Even during periods of my life when I listened to voices like Louis Farrakhan, I never accepted that belief or similar conspiratorial ideas. I have always recognized the tremendous sacrifices many Jewish-Americans made during the Civil Rights Movement. Some literally gave their lives alongside Black Americans in the fight for equality. That history matters, and it deserves to be remembered.
My appreciation isn’t just historical.
Jewish-Americans played meaningful roles in my own life. A Jewish businessman helped mentor my father as he became an entrepreneur. Jewish educators and peers encouraged my academic growth and helped put me on the path toward college. When I entered a new school district in a largely unfamiliar community, some of my very first friends were Jewish students who welcomed me.
Throughout my life, I have also spoken out against antisemitic conspiracy theories and stereotypes. I’ve challenged them publicly because they are false, harmful, and fundamentally incompatible with my values.
So when I criticize the actions of the Israeli government, understand that my criticism has never been rooted in hostility toward Jewish people.
I want Jewish people everywhere to live safely, practice their faith freely, preserve their culture, and enjoy the same dignity and security that every human being deserves.
But supporting Jewish people does not require me to support every action taken by the Israeli government.
It never has.
For years, I have opposed the continued expansion of Israeli settlements, the occupation of Palestinian territories, discriminatory policies that many respected human rights organizations have criticized, and the unconditional military and diplomatic support the United States often provides regardless of the circumstances.
None of those positions come from hatred. They come from applying the same moral standards that I apply everywhere else.
Israel has a right to defend its citizens from armed attacks.
And, Palestinians also have the right to live free from oppression, occupation, and collective punishment.
Those two statements are not contradictory. They are an equal application of consistant morality to different groups on either side of this issue.
As a Black American, I understand something about oppression and about how oppressed people are often condemned whenever they resist systems that deny them freedom and dignity. History is full of examples.
Enslaved Africans in the United States were portrayed as criminals whenever they rebelled against slavery. Nelson Mandela and the African National Congress were once labeled terrorists because they resisted apartheid. Haiti’s successful revolution frightened colonial powers so much that the new nation was economically punished for generations. The Mau Mau in Kenya, Vietnamese resistance fighters, Irish republicans, and countless other liberation movements were often remembered primarily for their violence while the violence of the systems they opposed received far less attention.
Recognizing that history does not excuse atrocities committed by those movements. The deliberate killing of civilians is wrong regardless of who does it and why.
But understanding why violence emerges is not the same thing as celebrating violence. Too often people confuse explanation with justification. I don’t.
The same moral standard that leads me to condemn Hamas for intentionally targeting civilians on October 7, 2023, also leads me to condemn the immense suffering inflicted upon Palestinian civilians throughout this conflict by the Israeli government.
Thousands of Palestinian civilians, including children, have lost their lives. Entire neighborhoods have been destroyed. Families have been displaced repeatedly. Hospitals, schools, and refugee camps have become targets and battlefields. Humanitarian organizations have documented extraordinary levels of suffering.
No child deserves that.
No civilian deserves that.
When leaders use language that appears to dehumanize entire populations or suggest that innocent civilians are acceptable collateral damage, it should concern all of us. History has shown repeatedly that dehumanization often precedes enormous human tragedy.
Some people will point out that anti-Black racism exists within segments of Palestinian society in a cynical effort to get Black people to excuse the disproportionate violence against them. They’re right that anti-Black racism exists within segments of the Palestinian and greater Arab community. But, anti-Black racism also exists within Israel, the Israeli population and the Jewish diaspora around the world.
It exists in Europe.
It exists throughout Africa.
It exists in Asia.
It exists throughout the Americas.
It exists almost everywhere.
But my opposition to the killing of civilians cannot depend upon whether the victims hold enlightened views about race.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. famously wrote that “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”
I’ve quoted that statement for years because I believe it.
If I oppose injustice only when it affects people who agree with me, or only when it affects people who look like me, then I don’t actually oppose injustice. I’m simply choosing sides.
That isn’t who I want to be. My moral compass requires consistency.
I condemn Hamas AND Israel for murdering civilians. I condemn the taking of hostages. I condemn terrorism. I condemn collective punishment. I condemn indiscriminate attacks on civilians. And, I condemn violations of international humanitarian law regardless of who commits them.
That standard applies equally whether the victims are Israeli or Palestinian.It should apply to every government and every armed group.
Ultimately, I don’t believe this conflict will be solved through endless retaliation.
Violence creates more violence. Trauma creates more trauma. Children raised amid war often become adults who know nothing except war.
The world desperately needs diplomacy, accountability, humanitarian relief, the protection of civilians, the release of hostages, and a political solution that recognizes the humanity of both Israelis and Palestinians.
Peace cannot be built upon revenge. Justice cannot exist without equal value being placed on every human life.
One of the most frustrating parts of talking about racism in America is how often people act as if it is either exaggerated, isolated, or long behind us. Every time I say that most white Americans have, at minimum, participated in or benefited from racist systems and behavior, there is always a predictable backlash. The conversation shifts from the reality of racism to defensive utterances, including people charging me with racism, exaggerated claims of Black culpability in slavery, sloppy attempts to “both-sides” racism, and arguing that racism was a past reality that black people need to get over.
But history (and the present) tell a very different story, and I’m not pulling that conclusion out of thin air.
I’m looking at history,voting patterns, where people choose to live, how they react when Black people move into their neighborhoods, what they tolerate politically, and what I have personally watched happen over and over again in this country.
In 1991, David Duke, a former Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan, won 55% of the white vote when he ran for governor of Louisiana. Let that sink in. A man whose public identity was openly tied to white supremacy won a majority of white voters, including 40% of white Democrats. That was not the distant 1800s. That was the early 1990s.
And this pattern is not an isolated one. Since the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965, Democratic presidential candidates have consistently struggled to win the white vote. Even in 1976, when Jimmy Carter performed unusually well among white voters, Gerald Ford still won them overall. That should force us to ask uncomfortable questions about what racial backlash has looked like in American politics for the last half-century.
These are not random or meaningless occurances. And it is not just “economic anxiety.” This is racism built into the bloodstream of American politics and manifest through voting decisions and patterns.
The same dynamic has shaped where people live, where they send their children to school, and how they define “good” neighborhoods and “bad” neighborhoods. White flight did not happen by accident. It was not simply about “better schools” or “quality of life.”
For decades, study after study (and plain old lived reality) has shown that white people love to talk about diversity until Black people actually start moving in next door. White families will say they want “good communities” and “nice neighborhoods,” but once a place becomes “too Black” (usually with a Black population at or above 10%), all of a sudden the moving trucks come out and the “For Sale” signs start multiplying like weeds.
In community after community, once Black families moved in, white families moved out. I have seen it with my own eyes. Entire white communities expanded further and further outward, into what had once been farmland, not because they were escaping crime or collapse, but because too many Black people had moved nearby.
And it did not matter if those Black families were educated, professional, stable, or middle class. Their Blackness alone was enough for those white families to flee further into the suburbs.
We want to act like racism was just Bull Connor, George Wallace, fire hoses, and white robes. We want to tell ourselves that racism was a regrettable chapter that “we overcame,” and now the only real racists are a few cartoonishly evil people at the margins.
That is a lie.
Racism in America was never just about the loudest extremists. It has always depended on ordinary white people making racist choices in ordinary ways: where they live, who they vote for, what schools they support, what fears they indulge, what policies they excuse, and what kind of treatment of Black people they are willing to rationalize.
I saw white parents rage against school bussing while talking about Black children as if they were grave threats. I saw anti-Black hostility dressed up as “concern” and “standards.” I saw white resentment toward Barack Obama, a man raised largely by white family members, treated as if he were some dangerous racial radical simply for existing in the White House while Black.
So no, I was not surprised when Donald Trump rose to power by openly winking at white grievance and white nationalism. I was not surprised when racist attacks on women of color energized parts of his base. I have seen this movie before.
A lot of white Americans want to be absolved without being examined.
They want credit for not wearing a hood while still supporting racist politicians, racist policies, racist housing patterns, racist school systems, and racist cultural assumptions.
That’s not how this works.
America’s racial problem has never been confined to a handful of extremists in white robes. That is the lie people tell themselves so they do not have to examine the everyday racism embedded in housing, education, politics, media, and social life. Racism in America has never just been about “bad people.” It has been about a society that trained millions of ordinary people to see whiteness as the norm, the standard, and the default.
And that is the real issue.
If white Americans are tired of being associated with racism, then the answer is not to get offended when people point it out. The answer is to stop supporting racist policies, racist politicians, racist assumptions, and racist social arrangements. Stop demanding that people of color quietly assimilate into a system built to marginalize them. Stop treating whiteness as the universal model of what is “normal,” “civilized,” or “American.”
Because America’s racial problem is not ancient history. It is not dead. And pretending otherwise is part of the problem.
