[Introduction: Right now, I am watching a campy episode of The Twilight Zone (2024 Series). The alien space ship has crashed landed and the aliens are decamping. The hapless couple are scared out of their minds. I know this movie. I have seen variations of this story hundreds of times before since I was a pre schooler on Twyman Road in the 1960s. All who love the old science fiction tales are my people, my community.]
Earlier today, one of my favorite readers sent me this e-mail message — I'm struck by the fact that, for you, ancestry is much more vivid and individualized than it is for most folks. It's Twymans and Browns in you family. It's pioneering lawyers like Charles Hamilton Houston. It's real people, not vague "communities" (with self-appointed spokespeople) like
the so-called "Hispanic community" or whatever.
Let’s discuss for a moment. If there are over 40 million black Americans, there are over 40 million stories, experiences and perspectives. I asked my reader this question — Why do you think my ancestry is much more vivid and individualized than it is for most folks? You offer a great observation but I wonder why? Also, what are the downstream consequences for me of perceiving my ancestry as I do? Does my perception separate me from vague "communities," however defined? I might write about your insight tonight. I never use the slogan "black community" to understand myself since, if there are over 40 million black Americans, there are over 40 million stories, experiences and perspectives. How could anyone be in community with over 40 million individuals?
Am I missing something? (I love Madison Keys. My intuition tells me she is the wave of the future as I have written.) “I’m Me. I’m Madison.”
Madison Keys
There are forces in the larger world that desire an unthinking embrace of Black Community. Out of curiosity (and query whether curiosity is wrong thinking within the Black Community), I wondered whether search engines steer the public in the direction of life as Black Community. I ran a yahoo search for the term “Black Community.” I turned up 169,000,000 search results. I ran a search for the term “Black Individual.” I found 23,100,000 search results. Might there be bias in at least one search machine to understand life as Black Community as opposed to Black Individualism?
More closely to the reader’s great observation about me, I don’t feel “community” with over 40 million individuals. Why should I if one thinks about it? Community means a group of people living in the same place. 40 million individuals have never lived in the same place. I have lived in places unique to my life trajectory — Twyman Road, Irvington Street, Jean Street, Charlottesville, Cambridge, Philadelphia, Arlington, Somerville, Northwest Washington, D.C., Brookline, Alphabet City, Yorkville, Spanish Harlem, Gaithersburg, Alexandria, La Mesa, San Diego, Las Vegas. I don’t even have family members who have lived in the same places that I have. Why would my living places equal a sense of community with over 40 million faceless and unknown people? To quote a young podcaster, make it make sense y’all.
Community also means having a particularly characteristic in common. Other than my physical appearance which doesn’t even match my wife or mother-in-law or distant second and third cousins, what is the particular characteristic that compels community for me with 40 million unknown others? It is not taste in music or movies or love for the monastery at Big Sur or desert views or ocean waves. As you know, many among the 40 million black Americans need large numbers of other black Americans around to feel aligned and normal. I do not. So, what is the particular characteristic in common that compel me to think of myself as a Black Community first and foremost? I am an individual due to personality and temperament. I have no evil cop stories, no racial horror stories to speak of in this century that have made a material difference for me. This factor for community is not satisfied.
What about the factor that community means a group of people living together in one place? Once again, I am not living with 40 million strangers at once so this factor is not met.
What about the factor of common ownership? I am not practicing common ownership with 40 million other souls. My wife will do.
Some might argue that I am united by common interests with over 40 million black Americans. Ergo, I am part of the Black Community. What would these common interests be? As you recall, I recoiled at the black books at the swank establishment in Napa. I believe reparations for American slavery is a profound wrong which runs counter to the support for reparations found in a majority of black Americans. My interests are small-town, suburban. I do not think of major cities as home, unlike my wife and many other black Americans. I do not like rap or hip hop. I love Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring, Sweet Caroline, Mandolin Rain, Autumn in New York and When We Dance by Sting. My heart doesn’t check in with the Black Community. My heart is moved by the intangibles of music transcending racial group. I don’t see the united common interests. We are not living in 1624 or 1724 or 1824 or 1924 anymore. I am living my life of 62 years at the end of the water’s edge in San Diego. The year, 2024.
There are additional definitions of Black Community one might argue to rein me back into the fold. Black people are a collective and a collective equals Black Community. End of story and end of discussion. Well, I disagree. I know myself by this stage in life. I am a thoughtful, introspective, open to experience, intuitive, curious soul. Those personality traits do not co-exist with collectivism. I share more in common with fine artists and poetic souls than mindless collective sheep. My closest uncles and aunts were the same way, so I am always annoyed when writers and intellectuals demand all black people must be collectivist. Not my experience. My neural pathways were molded by quirky and independent minded people long before I knew there was such a thing as a Black Community. So, there you go.
Another definition for Black Community might be “a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals.” Let’s talk, shall we? I am a free loving guy whose racial consciousness switch is turned off by default. I never think of race when I am feeling close to nature at the top of the San Jacinto Mountains or on the beach in Manchester by the Sea or strolling through downtown Julian. I suspect most black Americans have a racial consciousness switch stuck in the “on” position at all times. And that is cool for them but that is not me. This material difference means there is no feeling of fellowship. Similarly, when people are drawn to celebrate the faux holiday of Kwanzaa, I am annoyed and can’t wait for the faux ceremony to be over. Another example of a lack of feeling of fellowship on my part. I do not need black classmates or teachers to achieve or excel. This lack of racial consciousness separates me from a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals. I have no evil cop stories and I am always suspicious when black men claim “every black I know has a police story.” Once again, there is no feeling of fellowship. So, the Black Community concept doesn’t draw me in.
A final definition of Black Community might be a group of interdependent black people growing or living together in a specified environment (presumably of permanent racism and eternal oppression). Suffice it to say I am not at that place in my life today. The more I encounter dogma and slogan words, the more disaffected I become from those living unexamined lives.
Conclusion: Of course, I love Black History and have for nearly all of my life. I love my close family, all black and living in dogma. That’s great. Oftentimes, people go along with slogan words like Black Community to get along. I don’t feel those feelings for 40 million people I do not know as individuals. Why would I? Why should I? Would you? I like the human before me. If we click, that’s wonderful. If I am disheartened by an unexamined life, we don’t have to be friends. Here’s to you, Klingon, a reference my long-time readers will get.
I will find my community with those who are forever young as The Twilight Zone and Star Trek and The Outer Limits plays on television. These are my thoughts this evening.
Good night!