Get a copy Now!: http://www.amazon.com/Journey-Into-Mind-Black-Woman/dp/1468025228
*Part of book sale proceeds to be donated to The Trayvon Martin Foundation*
By the time I was 18 years old, 10 young Black males that I knew had died from tragedy. Murder was the leading cause for the majority of the deaths. Before the age of 25; more would soon follow. I didn’t really know what to make of this while I was maturing into a young woman. But it was having a tremendous psychological impact on me.
Every single summer, I expected someone to die. My generation was in peril. Hip Hop was the soundtrack of life in young Black America and its more negative components were taking root through the imagery of Gangsta Rap. Once party driven rhythms were being outplayed by angry bass tones, braggadocios Black masculinity, bold, angry, and unapologetic of depicting life in the inner city. This had great impact on the minds of young Black males around the world.
The drug culture was permeating American society and in my once quiet suburban community; I would soon see faces and things that would have a tremendous impact on how my neighborhood would be viewed and how it would change the way I thought. One day I woke up and literally realized that The American Black male was a brand which was largely created through the machination and minds of racist white males. Through the construct of media, the Black man would always be portrayed as the enemy–a predator to be feared, suspected and hated. It would seem that many Black males have believed this about themselves. This attitude has seemed to put them at war with the one ally they need: The Black Woman.
Someone once said that the richest place on earth was not an oil field or a gold mine; it was a cemetery. Why? Because cemeteries were filled with people who never lived up to their potential and I felt that every time a young Black man died from violence or tragedy; the Black community and the world suffered. So I posed a bold question: Do Black men know who they are? Do they know how much they mean to Black women? To their mothers, sisters, aunts, grandmothers? There is a battle being waged against the Black male in America. But is the real war against the Black man within? I wondered to myself if Black men really know how much they are valued?
A man that does not know himself is like tumbleweed: un-rooted, the wind blowing it through the desert in every direction without purpose.
So…Trayvon Martin’s death has become old news. The marching and protesting has ceased. Will his death really impact any change in this country? What about the Black community?
I asked the question: Does Anybody Really Give A Damn About Black Males?
I did. And I did something about it.
Fight the Power!