“I fear I may have integrated my people into a burning house.” – Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
By William A. Foster, IV
For my parents and grandparents not many years ago, it was the White Citizens Council, Ku Klux Klan, Bull Connor, George Wallace, and more. Today, it is MAGA, ICE, Donald Trump, Charlie Kirk, and more. African America long held out hope that we would be in someway accepted into America’s fabric. We contributed centries of free labor capital, centuries of cultural capital, and did it all under an umbrella of racial terrorism. This hope was held without so much as an apology or reparation. The Civil Rights Movement of which much of my family was a part of from my mother’s letter to Dr. King himself that now sits in the archives of Boston College to part of our family that was forced to relocate to Jamaica by the US government, likely Hoover’s FBI. They fought for equal protections and equal opportunities, but it was and has always been a fool’s errand. A group in power will never voluntarily relinquish that power and European Americans are no exception to that rule. The problem is and has always been that only African America was fighting for reconciliation. It has been a dance between two dance partners where one is constantly stomping on the feet of the other, stealing money out of our pockets as they swirl us around, and smiling at us while putting a knife nine inches in our back and pulling it out six inches while calling it progress.
As a child, my sister and I had the privilege of attending Wee Care, an African American primary school in Prairie View, Texas in the town where our family’s illustrious HBCU, Prairie View A&M University is located and where my mother has taught students, developed faculty, and served in leadership for almost five decades. Unfortunately for us, the school only went up to the first grade at which time my mother was forced to choose her “best” option. My mother’s best option was an overwhelmingly European American Catholic school in the heart of Tomball, Texas, at the time a fairly known small Texas town – with all of the small town Texas dynamics when it came to race. Only my second and fifth grade teachers were nice to me. One was really young and the other a hippy. In sixth and seventh grade at another predominantly European American Catholic school I would experience the first time being called the N word by a fellow classmate. Even in the resulting aftermath of the fight I was blamed by the principal for being violent. Imagine that. The African American private schools were limited and given the distance from where we lived almost impossible for my mother to change us to an African American school where we would be culturally safe. That though was not the whole story. You see my classmates through elementary in particular were thought to be lifetime friends, but in my later years I would learn a valuable lesson from a graduate program I would attend in Boston at a Jewish institution. Do not confuse friendship and loyalty. I am thankful to this day for the lessons from that institution because it opened my eyes to so much in the world of navigating power dynamics. It was in those lessons that I realized that many of my so called friends from elementary were also loyal to causes that would see me and my family back on a plantation if the winds blew in the right direction and they saw no moral or ideological conflict.
From that point on, I realized that what I must lean into is the institutional development of my own people. From African America to the African Diaspora and that the connectivity of our institutions would be our strength and saving grace. But alas, many of us still yearned for acceptance into PWIs, European American corporations even though we do not think of them as such that is exactly who they are owned by when you examine their ownership, and predominantly European American neighborhoods. To access whiteness is seen as progress and success. In every place we lived, I largely remember us always being the only African American family in the neighborhood. Something I know that none of my childhood “friends” ever thought about or crossed their mind. Their families would never move into an African American community and be the only one. They saw our spaces as hostile even though we have always been overly welcoming even to our detriment, but as I said being the only African American family in a predominantly European American community was often seen as “progress” for many in our community. It was a mistake, a violent psychological mistake that still harms many of us to this day. The same way Ruby Bridges, a six-year old child, had to be escorted by Federal agents into a school because we assumed the fight for desegregation was making America true to its values. We were wrong then and we have been wrong about what Ameria’s values actually are.
Dr. King said in his famous speech, “I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed. We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal. I have a dream that one day out in the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by their character. I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; that one day right down in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today.”
The dream is dead. It was a dream that required two parties to reconcile their past with only one willing to do so while suffering the brutality that has persisted since 1619. Dr. King’s speech was given on August 28, 1963 and two weeks later on September 15, 1963, the KKK bombed 16th Street Baptist Church and killed four African American girls: Addie Mae Collins (age 14, born April 18, 1949), Carol Denise McNair (age 11, born November 17, 1951), Carole Rosamond Robertson (age 14, born April 24, 1949), and Cynthia Dionne Wesley (age 14, born April 30, 1949). My mother was born in 1949. It could have easily been her. There are countless African American deaths at the hands of racial terrorism that we will never know about. The Red Summer of 1919 when the most African Americans (on record) were lynched. An entire Civil War just decades prior was waged over whether or not the United States should or should continue to be a country rooted in the slave economy. The complexity by which the North and South were guilty of profiting from – looking at you Harvard and others and have never rectified. The bloodshed, terror, and violence has been endless and it has not receded.
“I wouldn’t give it no more thought than wringing a cat’s neck! And there ain’t a court in Mississippi that’d convict me for it.” Frank Bailey’s, a character in Mississippi Burning, quote in regards to killing African Americans. This is and has been America’s attitude towards African America in its entirety. Not just individuals, but our institutions and communities as well. The underfunding of HBCUs or the burning of countless towns from Rosewood to Tulsa, our death and demise is sport and entertainment. African America has constantly believed that we could appeal to the morality of fellow Americans and “Christians”. We could work hard enough and show them our humanity. Imagine us thinking we need to prove to them we were hard working, civil, or human. It is both comical and insulting. But like many centuries ago, we have since the end of the Civil Rights Movement returns to working hard for everyone but ourselves and our institutions. That time needs to be over and we need to return to the principles and efforts that built towns like Rosewood, Greenwood, 100 HBCUs, 100 African American boarding schools, and over 500 African American owned hospitals. It is time to abandon any hope that peace can be achieved. Our sovereignty and survival is all that matters going forward. There are no more olive branches to be had. Not even from those that call themselves moderates or liberals because far too often we have seen them fall silent or pushed us to assimilate into spaces that did not empower us, did not provide institutional ownership to us, and often were spaces that were paternalistic and just as hostile to us as their conservative cousins. No, there are no more olive branches to be had because our survival depends on it.
Dr. John Henrik Clarke, a noted Pan-African historian, and someone who I consider an unofficial mentor said that any African American who is looking to devise a plan must look at our communities as nation-states and therefore must consider these fundamental pillars:
How will my people be housed?
How will my people be educated?
How will my people be fed?
How will my people be defended?
The answers to these questions can no longer be grassroots, they have to be institutional and they have to be thought about in a way that recognizes that our sovereign nation-state is adjacent to an adversary who has and will invade us. It is not a question of if they will, but when will they because they have so many times before. Unfortuantely, we cannot ask Dr. King what his thoughts about his “Dream” for America would be today because at the age of 39 he was assassinated. He was assassinated three years after his contemporary Malcolm X was assasinated and five years after Medgar Evers was assassinated in his driveway. Medgar Evers just two months before the “I Have A Dream” speech would take place. He was not blind to what America was for African America and he was certainly not blind to how our adversaries saw us or the lengths they were willing to go to in order to silence us. For the last 50 plus years since Dr. King’s passing African America has tried to make a peace that we should now see is not possible. It is time for the Dream Redefined and that dream should start and stop with actions that provide for the institutional sovereignty and survial of African America period.
HBCU Money 