By Mario Bonas
Popular in 1970s, the television sitcom Good Times featured a black two-parent household with three children and their attempts to overcome poverty in a high-rise project in Chicago. From my recollection when it aired most members of my small community sheepishly crowded around their television sets to watch – with me along with them, gesticulating and mimicking my idol at the time J.J. Evans. I can recall being enlivened by each episode and personally identified with these voguish black characters who were, as the gospel-influenced theme song suggested, “Keeping their heads above water, (and) making a wave when they can”. They portrayed a similar lifestyle to my own, growing up black and impoverished in the West Indies, but still, with an abundance of close family, rich in culture - Black culture. As an adolescent I observed an overwhelming tendency to celebrate and embrace, however tacitly, black culture and African heritage.
Despite being criticized for being stereotypical and reductive, Good Times was largely considered one of the few positive examples of African-American representation in modern American media culture for that time. At the height of its popularity I cherished especially one episode of this situational comedy, whereby Keith, played by Ben Powers was set to marry then TV heart throb Thelma, played by Bernadette Stanis. It’s hard to forget the heart-felt anguish I experienced when Keith, who was destined to a lucrative career playing football in the NFL, broke his leg, as he walked down the aisle on his and Thelma’s wedding day accidentally tripping over sitcom star Jimmie Walker - most notably-known as J.J. Evans. This, as the story was written, tragically ended Keith’s career. In anticlimactic fashion, all hopes of overcoming abject poverty, and lifting the family from the depths of project housing, were dashed; and not to mention those of devoted fans all rooting for the “Good Times” that the show’s theme song melodically promised.
These feelings of devout pride and loyalty were common among blacks when juxtaposed against the dominance of white culture and was a direct response to racism in the Americas. So it is out of these feelings, experienced by the descendants of African slaves that gave birth to this unique movement - a movement that was unified by a history of disenfranchisement, segregation, apartheid, lynching and slavery. As a result, blacks were no longer genteel when facing discrimination and being labelled as undesirable, be it socially, culturally or legally. They began to assert their identity in contrast to previous trends and rebelled against mores deemed fashionable to the white mainstream. Blacks began to embrace all that was considered dark, wretched, ugly and illegitimate about themselves and railed against predilections that marginalized them because of their skin tone. It sparked a movement that welcomed all things black; black skin, black hair, black love, black beauty, Black Panthers, black power and inspired songs like, “Say it Loud, I’m black and I’m proud!”; Or Issa Rae bluntly saying “I’m rooting for everybody black.” From fist-handled afro picks to the Rastafarian movement, from Martin Luther King to Malcolm X, from James Brown to Nina Simone, from Muhammad Ali to Barack Obama, they all helped galvanize the emergence of a movement better known as Black pride.
Without a doubt this movement that boldly indulged in the pleasure and satisfaction of black achievement, black possessions and characteristics - whether overtly or covertly admired, was the catalyst to many ideologies that followed in the decades to come. From it came black-nationalism, black power, Black Panthers, black supremacy and Afrocentrism. One could argue the beliefs and attitudes behind black pride were logical, justifiable and understandable especially since the embers of racial intolerance still smoldered in the enclaves of societal penetralia.
This overarching perspective shaped the lens in which I and blacks in general viewed the world and our position in it. Blacks and white liberals among them were content in their belief that the machinations of white supremacy were solely to blame for our deleterious path and languishing strides towards advancement. Now here’s the thing—that perspective informed and defined our identity as victims and subconsciously placed limitations on our trajectory towards reaching our full potential. As a result some blacks chose to disassociate with that mode of thinking and took the path of education, entrepreneurship and skill development while continuing their pursuit of addressing discrimination and racial injustice. But for others what came to be their modus operandi for black advancement in the following decades was the application of an unbending pressure on greater society to take responsibility for the plight of black people. Look. There are plenty of reasons to feel anger and resentful towards the fuckery handed down by countless institutions and their clandestine stratagems of; exploitation, insidious government policies, incarceration strategies, policing tactics, voting shenanigans, exclusionary housing schemes and the war on drugs. But maybe feelings are part of the problem. So much so that it helped usher in a form of identity that evolved from a unifying comradery to a self-destructive contempt. For blacks the feelings of victimhood legitimizes a short sightedness or a suspension of reason that allows them to make excuses for counterproductive, self defeating behaviour and promotes the belief that racism was and is the root of their issues.
There is, however, something noble in victimhood that feels virtuous and altruistic. When left unchecked it provides a supercilious sense of moral superiority and promotes a false perception of empowerment and comfort. Ta-Nehisi Coates wrote in The Atlantic - The False Nobility of Victimhood, “believing that you have fallen because of actions outside of your control, or the collective control of your tribe, rewards you with an unearned sense of the cosmic. It allows you to fashion yourself as heroic--a Hercules robbed by the smallness of Gods. It fills you with an anger which is, at its root, a sort of false power, a weak righteousness that turns your enemies into demons.” What’s worse, is that for those blacks who chose to disassociate from the victim mindset and pursue wider cultural exposure through education and other aforementioned means to socioeconomic success felt the need to conform to a more narrow view of the world so as to avoid not being ostracized from the group or worst yet; considered race traitors.
My father had always preached the importance of applying yourself and reminded me that we had to be twice as good (as white people) to "make it" as black people -- a narrative that never sat well with me. While I am certain what he meant was, in order to achieve, your merits and achievements must speak for you and you must make yourself undeniable (in the job marketplace). What was difficult to ignore was what it implied - that we (as blacks) had to try so hard because we were inherently no damn good. I have since outgrown such notions as I have learned the difference between being innately inferior and being in an inferior position. But it is that position that remains a sticking point of divisiveness and deters us from true solidarity towards determining our own fate. Sadly, to many blacks the message of self-improvement and perseverance like the mantra instilled by my father are naive, and fruitless in a system that was allegedly rigged against them. In contrast, popular among a growing minority of blacks, real black pride comes from their ability to compete equally with all others and reject programs of recompense, remunerations and lowered qualifying standards. This conservative philosophy rests on a suspicion of liberal agendas that threaten to wrestle away responsibility from them and encourages grievance and stokes illusions of racism that see them not as blacks but as black victims.
Candice Owens political commentator and activist, espoused as the new face of black conservatism, called Donald Trump “the savior of the West” and called for the exodus of blacks from the Democratic Party as “Blexit”. While it’s difficult to know her true beliefs and motives, views like hers and others who claim to sway towards more conservatism ideologies practiced by Candice Owens are not new. Booker T. Washington the great author, educator and orator, preached a similar philosophy that encouraged blacks to accept discrimination while simultaneously elevating themselves through education and devices that would build wealth and economic gain. Even Malcolm X, with his own version of black militancy, preached self-help, delayed gratification, initiative, and entrepreneurship. Even though he too was skeptical of what others (including whites) could do to rescue black people, he believed the foundation of hope was personal responsibility. Candice Owens and those of her ilk, many of whom identify themselves as free-thinkers, may represent a new era of diversifying opinions in the black community. However there remains a peculiarity that seems to be linked to them that can not be overlooked. Sure, their considerations are smart and forward thinking, but let’s give this its overdue attention. They, contrary to the likes of say a Barack Obama, are usually not very cool people. More often than not, these “free-thinkers” are not relatable, or likable and seem disconnected from the tenets that bind the black community. What is most bewildering is this apathetic reluctance to confront racism at all; yet still indulging wildly in the antagonizing ambiguities of MAGA hats and confederate flags. These traits all seem to undermine their overarching agenda and off-putting to any cause they were intended to advance.
Freedom itself, still requires discipline and responsibility. It is debatable whether black folks have fully realized what to do with it – the daunting task of assuming responsibility of our own development regardless of our own ideologies and differing political persuasions. Shelby Steele wrote in his novel White Guilt, “The greatest black problem in America today is freedom. All underdeveloped, formerly oppressed groups first experience new freedom as a shock and a humiliation because freedom shows them their underdevelopment and their inability to compete as equals. Freedom seems to confirm all the ugly stereo-types about the group – especially the charge of inferiority”. Without the oppression that has historically plagued us, much like a chained elephant who is now tethered by a simple rope, we are still restricted psychologically by implied limitations. The fear of the responsibility of freedom seemingly has a schizophrenic effect that either cripples us with incapacitating victimhood or an uncompromising apathy. Historically change comes slow and cruelly; and that's the good news. Hopefully these are all stages necessary along the path towards true power; complete responsibility. I am moved to say that I am optimistic of our future as blacks with the budding signs of change. While I may not live long enough to see the better days, despite the quarrels and slowly evolving dialogue, I am keeping the faith that the Good Times of black pride will return. Cue the outro.