Over the weekend I was hanging out with my good friend Walton, professor extraordinaire. We saw Passing Strange on Broadway, the fourth time for both of us. We hob-knobbed with a few of the actors from that show at a bistro across the street [yeh, I got it like that. uh, not really]. We parlayed over to Brooklyn for some French grub with my photographer buddy Tracy, and then off to the Afropolitan Society's launch of Fader Magazine at Frank White's [yeh, Biggie's moniker cafe on Atlantic Avenue]. It was a swinging night for a couple of literary heads with a taste for party.
But things turned. We left the Afropolitan Society in search of a spot to chill [by this time our friend Shuma had joined us]. We found this lounge nearby and the conversation catapulted into the incarcerated and the absence of father figures. Now I can tell you right off I don't support the notion that black men in this country suffer economically, criminally or socially due to the absence of a male parent. I know many of female-reared black men who shimmer under any light you put them under, and I know plenty of male-raised black men who express much difficulty with the demand of life in a democracy. And vice versa.
Well, Walton and Shuma blasted my so-called naive stand and basically informed me I was living in a fantasy. I was even asked about my astrological sign. When I answered The Goat, the response was: well of course, Goats always have their heads up in the clouds. Rough, I know, but I can hang with the best of them. These brothers nailed me to the chair with facts, figures: 83 percent of incarcerated black men come from single-parent homes; when there's not two parents to sustain a standard income, the men grow up and become criminal. Blah, blah. At one point someone pulled out their Blackberry to consult Google. I sat there, slurping on my water with lemon, fighting hard against their crusade. My agenda as a storyteller is to pull back the sterileness of facts and find the story. I write to humanize everything.
I finally told my barside literary heads that I was finished with the conversation. That I understood and knew the percentages of incarcerated black men existed, but I didn't buy into it. They looked at me like I was the Bubble Boy who just took his first breath in the real world.
Maybe I was being a bit naive, or simply devil's advocate. But the point I didn't seem to articulate well was the incarceration of black men [many of whom are falsely imprisoned or profiled and born into a societal witch hunt] is one of many challenges. There's AIDS, bankrupt schools, bad eating habits, prostate disorders, front line in the War, hell, recognizing Obama as someone to aspire to. Goat or not, I will not acquiesce to the notion that single-parent households are criminalizing black men. From where I muse, it just seems a lot more complicated than that.