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Shame on you, Dr. Huxtable July, 2004
I adore Bill Cosby. He is a magnanimous man and a wonderful role model for not only black America, but for all America. It should never be forgotten that Bill and Camille Cosby stepped up to the plate early on, contributing millions of their hard-earned dollars to the empowerment of black America through education and the arts. This, alone, merits the loyal audience from our community he has garnered over the last few weeks. But, even our most revered role models are sometimes wrong; and, this most recent tirade against black America is beneath the man I believe Mr. Cosby truly is. As he surely knows, the easy thing has always been to throw up our hands in exasperation when nothing seems to change, when our children continue to lag in just about every poll taken, when black parents are still the poorest and least educated. Blaming the victim, once again, is the way we assuage our own guilt, allow ourselves to sleep at night. It’s still the most popular American game around. And, when Bill Cosby speaks, America listens. Why not? He is always at the top of his game - a genius at crossing over, and getting paid royally for it. His success is even more amazing given the fact that he refuses to be placed inside a box, to be given strict boundaries. That is most certainly a testament to his childhood and grounding. I was captivated early on by his portrayal of the handsome, debonair, funny and engaging character, in "I Spy." Even then, he was playing against character, in a role made for any man.
The consummate funny man’s foray into political punditry and social analysis is not only peaking the interest of black America, but all of America is stopping and taking heed to what he has to say. Unfortunately, Bill Cosby’s disparaging remarks about black America are oiling the right wing political machinery that has historically turned the mirror from themselves and onto blacks, blaming us for the any and all of our problems ... erasing America’s blighted history, erasing blame that at least, partially, belongs elsewhere.
I listened and winced for weeks, as this discussion boiled across the airwaves and on editorial pages. I tried to listen, objectively, as the pros and cons went back and forth … convinced that my two cents was hardly needed. But, just last week, I sat and watched as an ultra-conservative news show commentator gave Bill Cosby kudos for `doing what black America had failed to do for far too long…baring the truth, and putting blame where it belonged.’ Bill Cosby’s position on the state of black America had started out as food for thought, but was fast becoming a tool to use against black America.
The conversation brings to mind a memory of my own childhood during the early `60s, centered around a PTA meeting. My parents, poor sharecroppers, served for many years on the school’s PTA and never missed a meeting. On one particular night, a younger brother’s teacher asked my parents to stop by her classroom before leaving. Confident that the talk had nothing to do with my brothers’ grades, my parents anxiously hurried to the woman’s classroom, to begin their talk. They would leave sad and humiliated. The instructor started off by assuring my parents their son was a straight A student, but arrogantly added that he regularly begged for her leftovers from lunch, and told her that my parents didn’t have lunch money to give him. Of course, this was true; but my mother was hurt beyond words, angry at my brother, at the teacher ... and, her circumstances. My brother was harshly punished that night, as tears streamed down my mother’s face. Yes, she was doing all she could to raise her children…but, given our dire circumstances, that was hardly enough. Her anger was that her son would share the truth of her struggles with the teacher, thus, the world.
Those memories haunt me as Mr. Cosby describes the demise of the black family and the black community. I want to cry, not say “Amen,” as he paints the disparaging truth of our communities. Like loving parents’ mixed emotions about the paths our children take, I am sad and angered. Yes, Mr. Cosby…and, no. There is so much more than what meets the eye. As an educator who once dealt with children on a regular basis, you must recall that oftentimes, the pitiful child who stood before you in class was a sum of all he or she left at home; and the mother or father at home was the sum of their own childhood environments.
As much as I admire Bill Cosby, the entertainer; I’m convinced Bill Cosby, the social analyst is allowing his gated mansion mentality to speak for him; showing the arrogance of money and fame that allows us to believe that life is either black or white. Maybe no one told him that, even in this new millennium, all Americans still don’t have the wherewithal to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps. Guess what? “The Cosby Show,” was just a Hollywood-produced concoction of black reality…and, it’s over. Tootie’s graduated from Spellman, Jamal wears dreads and recites poetry, and Clair’s gone on to win an award for portraying a woman trapped in the very harsh reality of black life you rant about.
I would be interested in knowing when was the last time Mr. Cosby walked the streets he so obviously abhor, talked to the mothers with broken English who lives in welfare-allocated housing, but finds the wherewithal to buy her son the hundred-dollar sneakers? Maybe, he would also find mothers like mine…doing all they can to give their children a good life, and still falling short; or children like my brother - who was only doing what he knew would work to quell his empty, growling stomach. Like most black Americans who either came from poverty, or who empathize with the plight of those still in it; I am torn when it comes to speaking out about the black community. I am torn because I know it is yet the whipping boy for all other races and communities seeking examples of how they are better. It is not that I believe black America deserves no blame for what we haven’t done right. Much of what Dr. Cosby spouts about black America is true. Yet, what do we gain by giving the rest of America only the ugly, one-sided truth about our world … just our dirty laundry?
Our communities, our children, their mothers, their neighborhoods, are all rooted in so many layers of harsh ugliness, and realities of American history. It’s unfair to throw around black and white blame as if there’s nothing in-between. Something in me makes me believe that not all of the children standing on the street corners slinging dope would turn down another path if they believed there was another path for them. Somebody at some point in their lives didn’t paint a picture of hope for them. Likely, no one had painted that picture for the parents, either. Nothing can convince me that our girls out in the school yards baring colorful bracelets to lure young men into dark rooms, is just about sex…that it’s not about a deeper need; something likely hidden so deep they don’t know how to begin looking for it.
It shows your concern, Mr. Cosby, to be angry and sad about the plight of black America. But, it is disingenuous to offer one side of that plight; to paint the picture black and white, and nothing in-between. In doing so, you dishonor our communities; you dishonor hard-working, caring parents like James and Ethel Kearney and, sadly, you do nothing to lessen the uphill struggle of a people saddled with 400 years of baggage. Janis F. Kearney is a Chicago writer, former journalist and diarist to President Bill Clinton. A Harvard W.E.B. Du Bois Fellow, she is currently completing William Jefferson Clinton from Hope to Harlem; and a personal memoir, Cotton Field of Dreams.
Kearney Communications 5138 S. Kenwood Ave.#2 Chicago, IL 60615 (773) 493-2007 --ph (773) 493-5747 -- fax janisfk@aol.com |
