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Editorials/Columns
FLORIDA SENTINEL BULLETIN
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Black Man Please You Can’t Win
ll over this nation rouge
white policemen are shooting UNarmed young Black men to death. I have warned Black men in past arti- cles that no matter what they may say, think or do they can’t win.
You see, what used to be your streets, are now the po- lice’s battleground. They have big guns strapped on with fatal bullets that they don’t mind firing. They got large numbers on their side. Most impor- tantly, they have the law. I say to you young Black man. I beg of you please listen, you just
can’t win.
What happens is a Black
male is pulled over for a tail- light violation, a loitering vio- lation, a drug accusation or just anything that will goad you Black men into an alterca- tion.
The next thing you know out comes his pistol and before you know it you are shot to death.
Whose fault was the shoot- ing? The cop tells his side and the shooting was your fault. Every bit of it was your fault. You can’t tell your version of what happened because you
are dead.
Black men it is not my in-
tent to frighten anyone. I am just trying to paint a picture of what the world is like for you.
I can give you all a long list of dead men whose only crime was being in the world and being Black. It matters not how many witnesses there are who dispute the policemen’s version, you are still wrong.
They don’t care whether you are 12 years old or 30 years old. All I am trying to do is have Black men save them- selves from a senseless killing.
What does the Black com- munity do when one of these shootings occurs? They do the usual. They demonstrate, protest, have candlelight serv- ices and burn and loot. When that is all over you are still dead.
The moral of this story is, Black men you can’t win. Don’t even try.
POSTMASTER: Send Address Change To: Florida Sentinel Bulletin,
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C. Blythe Andrews 1901-1977 (1945)
C. Blythe Andrews, Jr. 1930-2010 (1977)
Ears Of Discrimination That Never Listen
n 1946, Rev. Martin Neimoller wrote the following
words: “First they came for the Communists, but I was not a Communist, so I did not speak out. Then they came for the Socialists and the Trade Unionists, but I was neither, so I did not speak out. Then they came for the Jews, but I was not a Jew, so I did not speak out. And when they came for me, there was no one left to speak out for me.”
As we read Neimoller’s poem, we thought about Indi- ana’s so-called Religious Freedom Bill, and while recalling what its governor tried to say in the bill’s defense, we won- dered if the words of that poem had ever entered the gover- nor’s ear.
In a nutshell (an apt reference), Indiana’s so-called Reli- gious Freedom Bill says that a small business has a consti- tutional right to serve or not to serve a customer based on that business’s religious beliefs. Therefore, if a business- owner’s religious beliefs do not support athletes, artists, pork-eaters, or comedians, then by law, said business-owner has the “religious freedom” to deny such potential cus- tomers. Gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender Americans swear Indiana’s bill is leveled against them. In truth, it could be. Indiana’s governor swears it isn’t. Florida’s former gov- ernor who may be one of America’s future presidential can- didates supports the Indiana governor’s denial.
But we would advise Indiana Governor Mike Pence, for- mer Florida Governor Jeb Bush, and others who support the Religious Freedom Bill to update the last lines of Niemoller’s poem so that they read, “Then they came for gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgenders, but I was neither Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, nor Transgender, so I did not speak out. And fi- nally when they came for me, there was no one left to speak out for me.”
Ears of discrimination, listen. Your turn may be next.
Hip-Hop’s Butterfly
consider myself a big fan of hip-hop music. Every since I was a mischievous 7- year-old listening to The Sugar Hill Gang spit the words "Hip-hop/hippity-to- the-hippity-hip-hop" while making references to "super sperm" and "Superman look- ing like a sucker" in the song Rapper's Delight, I was
hooked.
There was just something
about what they were saying and how they were saying it that registered with something deep within me. The cadence, the lyrics and the break beats all came together to make an infectious tune that was like sonic candy to me ears.
Over time, the songs from this gritty new genre of music began to compose the sound- track of my life. The style and culture it created soon defined my generation.
I credit hip-hop for instilling in me a sense of self-awareness and teaching me, at a young age, the perils of street life from the perspective of far- away places like New York and Los Angeles. And, with my own father being absent dur- ing my formative years, what I heard through the lyrics of rappers like Chuck D. KRS- ONE and Rakim shaped my way of thinking (for better or worse) by inspiring me to pur- sue knowledge of self while embracing the beauty and strength of Blackness.
Back then, that is what
made hip-hop so special. It spoke to an often overlooked segment of the population who, while invisible to society, bore the weight of the world around them.
Of course that was a long time ago, way before corporate America saw Hip-hop's money making potential and major record labels decided to use the music's powerful influence to work their own agenda.
These new gatekeepers saw no need in further allowing the promotion of Black thought or addressing societal ills. In- stead, they put their focus on the party and bull---- aspect of the sound, grooming the artists, who were willing to sell their souls for a record deal, to dance to the beats already pro- vided for them.
For the last 15 years true fans like myself have been forced to endure wave after wave of corny trends, that sprung up as a direct result of this mainstream inclusion, as mediocre MC's were deemed superstars for, basically, say- ing nothing. Though there's no denying that some of these en- tertainers had talent, their range of content seemed lim- ited to the four corners of your average city block. I mean, se- riously, how many different ways can a person brag about being a "trap star" moving bricks of cocaine while being surrounded by bad "b-----?"
I bring all of this up be- cause after listening to a new
recording called "The Blacker The Berry," by one of my new top 5 favorite rap- pers, Kendrick Lamar, I re- alized that hip-hop's heart still has a solid beat. Theme wise, his song is a throwback to a time when artists actually wrote about what was happen- ing around them.
In his music the glorifica- tion of "swag" is replaced by his vision of a reality where wealth has no bearing in the fact that Black people still live in a world where their lives hold no more value than the common bug who finds itself at the wrong end of a flyswat- ter. And he doesn't refrain from pointing out our hypocrisy for coming together when one of us is killed by a white, while looking the other way when the perpetrators' skin tone matches our own.
This kind of deep introspec- tion is exactly what the game has been missing. Hip-hop was an avenue designed for people like Kendrick Lamar. A platform where in- dividuals who invoke the courage, awareness and spirit of poets like Gil Scott- Heron, Tupac Shakur, James Tokely and Life can express themselves freely.
For me, it was good to dis- cover that there's a surviving sample of this kind of energy still thriving in the music I've always loved. And since I'm well aware that it could disap- pear at any minute, I think it would be wise for all of us who appreciate this kind of real- ness, to enjoy it while it lasts.
Reality On Ice is © by the Florida Sentinel Bul- letin Publishing Com- pany. Anyone wishing to contact Clarence Barr can email him at: realityon- ice@yahoo.com.
Gunsmoke In The Classroom
hree cheers for Senate Education Committee Chair-
man John Legg, a Florida Republican who continues to believe firearms have no place in the classroom. In fact, so sincerely does he carry his opinion against a current State of Florida Amendment which would allow designated teach- ers to bear weapons in the classroom, that the Trinity, Florida Republican states, “Deputizing private citizens to protect a school is not an avenue I want to go down.” Though Hollywood has already broached the subject of what it would be like to have macho, Glock-toting “Welcome- Back, Cotters” in a public school environment, the reality of such a mutton-headed idea has already proven what hap- pens when deadly weapons are introduced into situations where firearms might only make matters unbelievably worse.
Imagine what might happen if tempers flared in a class- room and wrong decisions are made by either teachers or students. Consider the message sent to students, as well as parents, if teachers were allowed to become Matt Dillons with the power to teach, as well as to shoot. What would come first, the book, or the bullet?
Yes, we commend John Legg for standing on his own two feet and for using his common sense on an issue infused with political Dirty Harrys.
As for Gunsmoke where the name of the teacher is Matt Dillon, or Festus Hagan, keep such nonsense out of the public school classroom.
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PAGE 6-A FLORIDA SENTINEL BULLETIN PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY AND FRIDAY FRIDAY, APRIL 3, 2015