The New Black Attitude: First “WHY?”, Now “Who Cares?”

May 9th, 2009 | By Sonnie Johnson

Why? Why is the sky blue? Why is the grass green? Why am I wasting my time asking silly questions?

Bingo…………..

Why is a question posed by those who chose to do the wrong thing for the wrong reason. Pity should be treated as a season and allowed to past. Hoping spring will bring answers to questions unasked.

A bunch of mumbo jumbo or real talk. I happen to think it’s quite inspiring, especially since I wrote it. LOL

I guess in every thing there are reactive and proactive forces. Shots fired on the block, the reactive question, why? The proactive question, why not start a neighborhood watch to cut back on the crime. But before either gets a chance to act or react, what about the person that fired the shots? Do the same forces hold dominion over him?

Is he being proactive in stopping someone from coming to his block or is he being reactive, retaliating because he was hit first? Or truly, does it matter? It doesn’t.

But those are the “WHY” boys and we give credence to their questions. We grieve momentarily for the victim and his family, but we fight relentlessly to make sure the “shots fired” have an excuse. When the police catch the shooter, it’s the police who were picking on a black man.

So I ask, do you even remember crying for the black mother that lost her black son to that black man?

And for asking this question, I will be called a traitor, an uncle Tom, or a myriad of other names that bounce off my skin like raindrops. I’m prepared for that. I know full well putting a dissenting voice will cause criticism to fly my way.

But where are the rest of the people who aren’t afraid to speak up? Over the last couple months, I’ve found quite a few who are willing and currently fighting to take back their cities, but they have to fight the common sense, get up and go to work everyday people. And the one’s committing the crime are free to roam while we fight amongst ourselves.

I have a very old friend I talked to a couple weeks back. He was the man. When I was sick, I mean spending an entire week every month in hospital, he helped me with my bills. He made sure I got my medicine and he frequently stopped by to see if I was eating properly.

But he also worked in weight. He wasn’t loud or flashy, but he was caked up. Right around the time I was leaving Richmond, he was arrested and sentenced to 4 1/2 years in jail.

This was our first conversation since then. Being that I have changed, I assumed that he had made some changes as well. He made changes all right, but not like I had expected.

He told me he no longer sells to niggers. That’s what got him in trouble last time. Black people just don’t know how to keep their mouths closed.

And of course being the person I am, I question “Maybe you got in trouble because you were selling drugs and that’s what happens to people that sell drugs.” And then I got truth.

He said, “I know what I do. And I know where it’s going to lead me. It is what it is.” His girl’s grandma left them a house and she keep the money he saved, so there was no need to continue hustling. The more I tried to press the issue, the harder he laughed.

Now, I feel like a jackass. I’m praying to God to help me find a way to communicate the destruction in our communities and the criminals are laughing. To make matters worse, he commends he on my efforts and predicts big things in my future.

And I’m wondering, do you know what your asking for? If I succeed, you go outta business permanently. But I let the conversation go and spent weeks trying to wrap my brain around it. Until my breakdown on Wednesday, when I tried to tell this story, and the release of my thoughts in yesterday’s blog, I couldn’t decipher the lesson learned.

If you’re young, black, and in the hood, I’ll give you a free “WHY”? Why does no one care about me? See, we used to start community groups to bring jobs and opportunities into black areas. Now, to take a job that pays you enough to pay for rent and food and not much else is looked down upon. WHY? Because the same groups that once vowed to protect us are now giving crack to mothers, turning sons into runners, and killing anyone who gets in their way. No matter the color.

We don’t cheer for them but we stare enviously when they roll up, decked out. We get up and go to work everyday, just to make ends meet, and they don’t have a care in the world. Until they get hit with the consequences of their actions, then we find outrage and a reason to protest.

And the real niggers are laughing. You work your ass off and then you fight for them like your plight is the same. They count on “Let T-Dog Free” and public outrage so they can get back to the street and back to making money. And we oblige.

So what happens to that kid that wants to do the right thing? He sees the world around him quite clearly and he’s smart enough to know just standing out can get him killed. That’s why in every single group of niggers, there is a pretender. Not in the scared to act sense, but the give me one opportunity to get away and I’m gone.

They do what they have to do to make it and then they become Jay-Z, Baron Davis, and Barack Obama. And we cheer their success. But we point out that they are only the exceptions to the rule. The truth is, if we eliminated their need and necessity to fit in, they would become the rule.

And that’s where we are. We are telling our kids that we don’t care what happens in their everyday life if it involves people that look like them. We don’t want to talk about black on black crime, we’ll wait until a white person does something and then we’ll fight.

And while we put our heads in the sand, black men are dying, going to jail, or creating situations that will cause them problems for the rest of their lives.

But we don’t care. If they floss, we’ll admire. If they kill, we’ll overlook. If they steal, so what. Let it happen in your inner circle and it’s different. The police don’t care, the politicians don’t care, and the media doesn’t care. But like the initial question, before any of the people above have a chance to act or react, what about you?

Were you proactively trying to make a better community? Where you proactively trying to encourage your friend to stop selling illegal drugs that cause thousands of black to be incarcerated every year? Where you proactively trying to get them to go back to school or to pick up a trade?

Or are you being re-active and questioning “WHY”, even though you are well aware of the answer?

But here’s the kicker. If you are proactive and are trying to put positive influences around those you love. How’s that working out? Are they ignoring you and continuing to follow their own path, no matter how hard you try? Do you feel like it’s a waste of time, even though you continue to encourage and enlighten?

To you I ask, what about when you’re not talking about someone in particular. Say, just some random news story about a murder in your city. Do you question why the victim was there, instead of why that neighborhood has had a murder every weekend for a year? Do you question police tactics, instead of number of crimes criminals get away with because no one is willing to speak up?

The point is, if you tell a black man to get a job and become a part of society, then turn around and justify the actions of those who are doing the exact same thing, why would they listen to you? You tell them to work hard but laugh along with the guys that pick on the poor dude. What are you truly saying to them.

As long as I you’re nothing, I got your back. But the minute you decide to change your life and have to struggle with the consequences of that change, you no longer fit in. Since you no longer have the chain, the whip, the girls, or the dough, you are no longer worth fighting for. Come back when you are the victim of a white crime.

And that’s the black attitude. Who cares how many die, if they die by black hands? Who cares how hard you work if you don’t roll a Benz? Who cares how much you suffer, if it’s not done by the hands of government or the white man?

Gotta go for now, but far from finished.