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The Choice: Why I Choose to Work at an H.B.C.U.

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Although the intrusive and loaded question is a familiar one, its appearance never ceases to amaze me for reason that I hope are apparent to you.

The alluded to question of “Why are you working at an H.B.C.U.?” never fails to rear its ugly head in the moments following some speaking engagement, panel discussion, or lecture delivered in one of my courses.

The question arrives via routes of communication such as the following:

  • You’re much to smart to be at this school.
  • You’re wasting your time working there. Those students aren’t capable of learning.
  • I’m going to go back to my campus and tell them about you. I’m going to push them to recruit you and get you over there where I am.
  • You’ve done your time there. It’s time for you to move on to bigger and better things.

I have grown so weary of this offensive question that I am going to answer it once and for all in this space.

Undoubtedly, the inquisitors asking the daunting question were not attempting to be offensive. In fact, I am certain that they have no idea of how offensive their words are as their gross devaluing of the H.B.C.U. is inextricably linked in my heart-and-mind to a daunting view of poor and working-class Black folk; my folk.

Those who have made either subtle overtures or unabashed attempts to prod me toward reconsidering my commitment to Black America and by extension H.B.C.U.’s surely do not understand that the foundation of that commitment flows from a conversation with my mother. Kathryn Jones was a woman who was determined that her children would have an understanding of what our ancestors experienced as they fought for the right to exist on this planet and what was owed to them by those who were gifted with life in this nation wracked by racial strife. The following verbal exchange — which I shared this week on the blog talk radio show Who Did It To You (please feel free to join us every Wednesday at 7:00 est, the call in number is 563-999-3682) — is tantamount from my mother.

Me:                      What exactly do I owe those that died for me                                to be here today?

My Mother:       Your Life!!!!!!

This single exchange serves as my guiding principle to this moment.

Trust me when I say that the decision to service the young people whose parents possessed enough wisdom to send their children to an H.B.C.U. was the best career decision I ever made.

Although the following may sound cliché, my relationship with my students is a Love affair under girded with unending respect. My students’, and not all of them are Black — many are Brown and a few are White — who have made it into my inner-circle are much more to me than former students, they are an integral part of this thing called life. For me, the expectation that our association would extend beyond the classroom and well into their arrival and engagement of the various stages of life is to be expected. No other relationship would make any sense at all.

My engagement with an H.B.C.U. has been a never-ending learning experience that has taught me not only the utility of relationships, but also the dangers of navigating the ebbs-and-flows of life alone. In hindsight, it is obvious that my mother’s advice has come full circle for me. The decision to dedicate my professional life to uplifting those students who attend Prairie View A & M University has provided me a unique life that was only realized via my association with them. My path and association with H.B.C.U. students is best summed up by Huey P. Newton’s poem Revolutionary Suicide.

By having no family I have inherited the family of humanity.
By having no possessions I have possessed all.
By rejecting the love of one I have received the love of all.
By surrendering my life to the revolution I have found eternal life.
Revolutionary suicide.

I can think of no better way of living “a life worth living.”

Dr. James Thomas Jones III

© Manhood, Race, and Culture, 2019. ڬ�

African-American History

An Unnecessary and Burdensome Load: Why Black America Must Shed Any Shame Associated With Slavery

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During a recent event celebrating the work of a fantastic collective of African-American artists addressing ‘Afro-Futurism,’ I listened intently during the Q & A session that followed. All that I can say is “out of the mouths of babes” because the most poignant inquiry raised came from one of the youngest in the audience.

The poised middle-school-aged African-American female was undoubtedly wise beyond her age, an “old soul,” so to speak. This child shared a heart-wrenching account of how uncomfortable she becomes when the issue of slavery arises in any of her classes. This impressive young sister shared the following.

When we talk about slavery, all of the white kids turn in their seats and stare at me. It is uncomfortable. I wish that my teachers would not talk about it at all, mainly because I am the only Black person in the class.

Unbeknownst to this young lady, the vast majority of African-Americans, regardless of age, educational attainments, and socioeconomic status, experience the “shame” when the topic of chattel slavery arises. It would not be a stretch to argue that the subject matter haunts them like an unwanted haunting. I will never understand why the descendants of those victimized by American chattel slavery choose to carry negative connotations regarding the African Holocaust on their sturdy shoulders.

The burden is not theirs.

If anyone should shudder at the mention of America’s original sin, it is those who have Anglo-Saxon blood flowing through their veins. They are not difficult to find as they proudly lay claim to this eternal transgression by claiming sole ownership of this nation. Unbeknownst to them, their claim carries a foreboding history that should guarantee one’s place in the hottest portion of Hell. Rest assured that this thought is not new, as evidenced by the words of an American Patriot who advised his countrymen of the desperate need to shed the sin of slavery in the following manner.

If God is just, and I believe that he is, we will burn in Hell for this shit.

White Anglo-Saxon Protestants claim to this nation identify them as the descendants of a people who perpetrated untold horrific deeds during this nation’s darkest period. As if that were not enough, the same boasting and bragging convicts their kind as the perpetrators of multiple Holocausts on the North American continent. If only we could get others (Polish, Japanese, Italians, Ghanaians, Brazilians, Nigerians and a host of others) to join in the process of laying such atrocities at the feet of White Angl0-Saxon Protestants, racial matters would become less convoluted in this nation. 

When one thinks about this issue, it becomes evident that the “original settlers” of the North American continent (White Anglo-Saxon Protestants) have been able to shed what should be inescapable blame and responsibility for the deeds of their ancestors.

If nothing else, I have to tip my hat to the ingenious ways that White Anglo-Saxon Protestants have been able to convince persons of African descent that their ancestors were responsible for their victimization during the world’s greatest Holocaust. Similarly, “Whites” whose ancestors did not arrive in this land until well after the deplorable institution was established and operating have been duped into believing that a portion of their admittance to whiteness is paid in their joining the White choral whose favorite tunes are the denouncement of racial justice and resistance to reparations.

Arguably, this is the longest-running con on the North American continent. The most crucial element in its achievement is the astounding lack of historical knowledge that engulfs the vast majority of Americans. When viewed from a detached view, it is obvious that the greatest tie binding Americans together is the shocking level of historical illiteracy that governs their belief systems and worldviews.

Anyone who has studied the discipline of History in depth can tell you that the most powerful element in shaping the worldview and beliefs of people is “the narrative.” The narrative is merely the arrangement of facts to generate sympathy and support for one’s version of History. Experience has taught me that Black America, despite their oral traditions, have yet to learn that they must seize their historical record, just as persons of Jewish descent have, and wield it as an Excalibur against less than favorable “narratives” of History. I guarantee you that until that occurs, African-Americans will continue to carry the shame of slavery on their shoulders, there may be no greater manifestation of this unfortunate reality than the nervousness and insecurities that overtake Black children at the mention of slavery.

Dr. James Thomas Jones III

© Manhood, Race, and Culture 2019

African-American History

Why the Call for a Boycott of Harriet by Black Activists is an Unwise Decision that Threatens Us All

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Two decades of serving as an African-American Studies Professor has placed me on the frontlines of education. It is from this position that I have witnessed a most unfortunate shift in the educational arena.

Although I have worked primarily with African-American students, I believe that the alluded to disappearance of the serious reader has occurred among non-Black student populations as well. Put simply; many students possess neither the discipline nor patience to sit down, devoid of distractions such as cell phones, and engage a book in a substantial manner. As an educator, I can attest to the fact that this shift has been in a word, disheartening.

In many ways, it is laughable that this shift has occurred at the very moment that there has been unfathomable access to information via the internet. I am sure that I am not the only professor whose lectures have been altered by the stated resistance to reading. Not only have my lectures changed but also my understanding of the worth of scholarly studies that appear in University presses and academic journals. A trusted colleague recently stated after lecturing about a recent publication he spent years researching and writing.

“Man, ain’t nobody reading this shit.”

Although most academicians would love to push back against that sentiment, we each begrudgingly realize that there is much truth in such sentiments as the average citizen will never engage such intellectualism.

It is my students shortened attention span that led me to the belief that the arrival of films and documentaries such as I Am Not Your Negro, If Beale Street Could Talk, and Birth of a Nation would provide a path for this latest generation of African-Americans to be made aware of their history and the bounty of intellectuals who have dedicated their lives to illuminating our glorious, yet stony, past.

Alas, my optimism has been dashed by a call for a boycott of the recently released Harriet. As a historian, I cringe at the thought of what I believe is our most reliable means of reaching non-readers being criticized for befuddling reasons. I can do little more than sigh as the referenced population nitpicks at Harriet for things such as:

  • The appearance of a Black “slave catcher”
  • The murder of a Black female character by a Black Male
  • The insinuation of a romantic relationship between a slave-holding white male and Minty.
  • The absence of a visual display of the brutality endemic to the system of American chattel slavery.

The voluminous criticism of Harriet by a vocal minority speaks volumes regarding their inability to differentiate between a documentary and a Hollywood film designed to be edutainment — partially educational, yet overwhelmingly entertaining. Looming even larger is the unfortunate reality that the proposed boycott threatens to abort both in-progress and yet to be “greenlighted” projects dealing with the Black experience.

As the so-called “woke” community argues among itself regarding Harriet, they fail to remember earlier criticisms regarding the dearth of Black stories on the big screen. It is a wicked circular argument that they engage in that begins with (a) the criticism of Hollywood for not placing stories of Black (s)heroes on the big screen, (b) criticism of Hollywood for placing “whitewashed” Black History on the big screen. Not even the in-depth involvement of Blacks in the creation and debut of the film silences such foolishness. I guess that it is true that you cannot satisfy everyone.  

This unwise never-ending unfruitful course of action threatens to create an insurmountable roadblock for the sharing of Black stories in the technology-driven new millennium. It is time for us to face facts, movies such as Harriet are going to be the most accessible path to expose succeeding generations of Black children to the heroic stories and tales of our people. As mentioned above, these stories appearing on the big screen are merely edutainment, emphasis on entertainment, and therefore must be supplemented with lessons from parents, teachers, and the larger community. I hope that those who have unwisely chosen to call for a boycott of Harriet will abandon that endeavor and realize that it will be the most reliable means that Black children will be introduced to this grand ancestor.

I hope that we can agree that Harriet serves as the catalyst to a conversation that would have never occurred in many homes had she never made it to the big screen. However, if foolish boycotts that serve the interests of no one in our community are successful, the recent explosion in Black cinema may come to an abrupt and most unfortunate end.

Dr. James Thomas Jones III

© Manhood, Race, and Culture, 2019

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