Stifling, suffocating and stereotyping Black men and Black boys, but not White men and White boys

No matter what an African American male or boy does it never meets with the approval of White folks. There is always the proverbial: “He must have committed a crime, or the police wouldn’t have shot him. He was arrested because . . . ” This inbred attitude has been the beast living in the belly of Black communities for decades. I feel comfortable in saying that Black people are not seeking acceptance or approval from White folks. Black Americans just want fairness and equality as promised them in 14th Amendment.  They want equal access to the American Dream. American Dream

AtlantaBlackStar attempted to explain why White folks are fearful of Black men. “Since the days of slavery, the propagation of the myth of the predatory Black man has been used to instill fear in Whites and to justify their brutality and violence against Black individuals, communities and continents. The narrative has been passed down from one generation to the next and is still used to underwrite injustice against Black people”. 

 Black males walking down the street--unlike White males-- are expected to walk a certain way if a White cop is patrolling the area. The Black man or male teenager should walk slowly with his hands at his side. He should never run or look behind him while walking fast or jogging. Heaven forbid if he is jogging, a common exercise! But Whites, especially cops, do not believe that Blacks jog or exercise. No matter the consequences or environment the African American male is under constant suspicion. That suspicion eventually gives birth to anger and resentment and death of innocent Black males of all ages. 

White folks are the first to ask: “Why are Black men so angry?”  They never look  past the anger and reasons for it. They never ask why Whites are so angry.

 Paul Butler, professor of law at Georgetown University said, “When you're in an elevator or walking behind somebody, and you feel like you have to perform to make them feel safe, it's like apologizing for your existence. So I am in an elevator with a White woman and I have to look down to make her feel comfortable. It's like 'excuse poor Black me.' And you get angry and you get tired”.   

 That very real anger may be due to the White woman’s own projection of anger and fear of African American males. It is likely she would ride an elevator with five White criminals, feeling completely safe, as opposed to riding with one Black man, feeling that her life or womanhood is in danger. The woman, without knowing if the professor was dangerous or angry was reacting to years of indoctrination and vividly painted profiles of Black men and boys as told to her by the angry White men in her life.

“The psychological defense mechanism called projection [occurs] when one accuses someone of having traits they refuse to acknowledge in themselves may also explain why White people fear violence from Black people. Instead of acknowledging the past and present forms of violence Black people have suffered at the hands of Whites, it is projected onto the victim themselves”. (AtlantaBlackStar)

In Psychology Today, Mark Goulston, M.D. states: “Believing that Black males must be angry causes Whites to feel fearful of them. To make matters worse in the case of White policemen who are very much about control, they have a psychological refusal to be afraid, and so instead turn it into resentment, distrust and a very short fuse that can blow and cause the tragic shootings that are occurring all too often”.

Brandon McKean

A couple of years (2014) ago in Pontiac, Michigan, a young African American man named Brandon McKean, 25, was walking down the street with his hands in his pocket because it was cold. It was around 4:30 p.m., still daylight. McKean was walking from a friend’s house, on his way to his own home. The young man’s instinct to keep his hands warm on a snowy, wintry day made a store owner nervous. He was stopped a deputy

Deputy sheriff who stopped McKean

sheriff.

Later this is what he was told a deputy sheriff. "You were walking by … well you were making people nervous," the deputy says in the video McKean recorded. "They said you had your hands in your pockets".

In disbelief McKean responded: “Wow, walking by having your hands in your pockets makes people nervous [enough] to call the police when it’s snowing outside”?

“The sheriff said before McKean was questioned, a business owner called 911, audibly frightened, about a man who had walked by the shop six or seven times looking in the windows with his hands in his pockets. The caller believed the man was casing the business and that a robbery could be imminent. The business and its employees had reportedly already been robbed seven times.

“Bouchard would not name the deputies who were dispatched to the business, but said they had determined the person the 911 caller described was McKean, "without question." After the furor over the video, the sheriff's office posted their own video, which the deputy had also recorded with a phone.” (Huffington Post)  

McKean was not the man the store owner said he saw. But that did not matter. McKean was a Black man with his hands in his pockets. He was suspicious enough to cause fear. McKean videoed the incident and posted it on YouTube.

Stifling, suffocating and stereotyping Black males in movies, magazines, books

When I tire of the glitz, glamour and violence in today’s movies I look in my library of old and new movies and pop an old movie in the VCR or DVD. Watching old movies I noticed something. Characters played by Black male actors were dehumanized and caricatured. Black actors in early movies were wide mouth grinning buffoons. The only emotions they could freely express was love and adulation for the White family they worked for, or White folks in general.

White actors were 100 percent humanized. They were free to be who they were without restrictions. In the early movies White male actors were portrayed as good looking superior characters. The reason roles for Black males in old movies were emotionally suffocating is because movie producers had to satisfy the racial whims of White moviegoers. They did not want Black male actors straying from the “they are too violent and brutish to be human” urban legend. The more they looked like the infamous Hong Kong the better.

Lebron James, famed basketball player, was heavily criticized for this Vogue cover. Someone produced a counter cover comparing James to a big black gorilla that fell in love with and captured the "beautiful" White woman in the movie King Kong.

If Black actors got roles in which they had physical or verbal confrontations with a White character he could expect to die at the hands of the White character. This scenario was more acceptable than a Black character killing a White character. 

When Sidney Poitier starred in “In the Heat of the Night” in 1967, he broke the color coded mold. He refused to be a buffoon to a White actor. The cast was all White except for Poitier. The setting was in the South, where the atmosphere was always racially charged. Poitier was the star in the movie with a White co-star. In one scene, Mr. Tibbs, Poitier’s character, was slapped by a wealthy White businessman. Poitier’s character instinctively slapped him back. That was unheard of in a real life let alone in a movie! The physical patty-cake was deemed “the slap heard around the world.”

Reportedly, Poitier agreed to accept the role on the condition that he slap back when slapped by his White co-star. Such was the case with Poitier in all the movies he appeared in. He did not take roles that made him appear less intelligent than White actors. He refused to be a song and dance clown. Sidney Poitier refused to be stifled, suffocated and stereotyped.

More stereotyping and suffocating

I was watching a late night talk show on cable TV not long ago, and I learned that even in pornography Black men are discriminated against. They were/are depicted in adverse images. I decided to do some research on Black men in the porn business. To my surprise I learned that some White women refuse to perform sexual acts on video with Black men. It was explained that such a decision can end his “career”. White connoisseurs of pornography do not want to see a Black man having sex with a White woman, no matter her status or profession.

A White woman willing to participate in a porn video with an African American performer can and do demand double pay compared to Black women. Stereotypes strikes again, even in porn. Black males are sometimes portrayed as a burglar in porn flicks. In the scenes the White female is alone, and subjected to getting raped by the great Black brute who violated her space. Black porn performers are also portrayed as thugs, brutes and pimps, who are insensitive and abusive to Black women that performs with them.

To audition for  porn roles African American males must look and talk a certain way. On the other hand, White male performers banging Black women is acceptable and popular among porn lovers. White performer are expected to treat Black females roughly, disrespectfully, pulling their hair, calling them unflattering names.

Charles H. Smith stated in 1893 that “a bad Negro is the most horrible creature upon the earth, the most brutal and merciless". Clifton R. Breckinridge, a contemporary of Smith’s said of Black people, “When it produces a brute, he is the worst and most insatiate brute that exists in human form".

George T. Winston wrote in 1901, “When a knock is heard at the door [a White woman] shudders with nameless horror. The Black brute is lurking in the dark, a monstrous beast, crazed with lust. His ferocity is almost demoniacal. A mad bull or tiger could scarcely be more brutal. A whole community is frenzied with horror, with the blind and furious rage for vengeance.” (Jim Crow Museum, “The Brute Caricature”)

The description above very much applies to Black boys and males in America. They are not allowed to experience normal childhoods like their White counterparts. African American males of any age are criticized for the way they express themselves through music, mode of dress, their manner of speech. Of course, they automatically look dangerous and threatening; therefore, when a White cop sees a lone Black male or a group of Black males he instantly fears for his life, and must shoot to kill to save his own life.

African American males and boys are automatically labeled thugs, criminals, and gang bangers by the media. The media—newspapers, blogs and TV—push these images every day. Reality shows like “Cops” and “The First 48” are notorious in describing African American teens and men as gangbangers, killers, robbers. Seldom are Whites seen on these shows in the same negative light.

“The First 48 shares its voyeurism and bloodlust with other reality shows, but differs from them in that it has destroyed, and even ended, the lives of people who never agreed to be involved. Another distinct feature of the show is that almost all of the suspects in it are Black. Portrayals of non-Black criminals are so rare that it's become something of a social media joke". (The Guardian)

Darren Wilson, the White cop who shot Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri, describes how he felt when he came in contact with Brown, who was unarmed.

 “When I grabbed him, the only way I can describe it is I felt like a 5-year-old holding onto Hulk Hogan. That’s just how big he felt and how small I felt just from grasping his arm”. 

Darren Wilson is 6’6 tall, 210 pounds. Brown was so monstrous, threatening and dangerous that he made the cop with the law on his side, a loaded gun and Taser feel like a helpless child. His testimony worked like a charm during the grand jury hearings. It handed down a no indictment. The prosecutor did not try to convince them that Darren was embellishing his version of the fatal incident. The White pubic accepted the story as told by Darren. They even blamed Brown for causing his own death.

Tamar Rice, 12-years-old was shot and killed by a cop in Cleveland in 2014. He was playing with a toy pellet gun in a park across from his house. Someone in the park called police. The dispatcher told responding cops that the pellet gun was probably toy, and that Rice was an adolescent. Two cops rushed on the scene gangbuster style, one of them shooting Rice. Neither cop helped the young boy lying in the snow dying, a gunshot wound to his stomach. The shooting cop said Rice “looked older.” Both cops feared for their lives. The 12-year-old African American boy looked like a dangerous monster with a real gun. All Black boys look older to White cops.

Washington — “Black boys as young as 10 may not be viewed in the same light of childhood innocence as their White peers, but are instead more likely to be mistaken as older, be perceived as guilty and face police violence if accused of a crime, according to new research published by the American Psychological Association.

“Children in most societies are considered to be in a distinct group with characteristics such as innocence and the need for protection. Our research found that Black boys can be seen as responsible for their actions at an age when White boys still benefit from the assumption that children are essentially innocent,” said author Phillip Atiba Goff, PhD, of the University of California, Los Angeles. (American Psychological Association, 2014)

White men and boys are never stifled, suffocated or stereotyped; they have ‘mental problems’  

Every time White males and boys execute mass shootings, killing and wounding multiple people in one spree, within hours of the carnage the shooters are declared “loners with mental issues” by the media and those who knew them. The media does not await for a psychological examination before parting with their amateur diagnosis. The majority of White juries find it difficult to sentence young White males to prison for life. Not so with an African American males, who  tend to get the book thrown at them. Black boys and men do not get or deserve second chances. They are too angry and dangerous. Involuntary manslaughter will get them sentenced to prison for life.

A prime example of what I have stated so far is akin to the American born terrorists in Arizona that commandeered the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in Harney County in Oregon. These hoodlums operated on the notion that the government owed them land that should have been handed over to cattlemen to graze their cattle without paying the required fees.

This gang of homegrown terrorists led by Cliven Bundy, his sons and their armed "patriotic" buddies intended to use their wives and children as human shields just in case the Oregon sheriffs decided to fire on them. These American terrorists have been arrested and charged with a number of crimes.

The media called these armed White males with criminal records “militiamen”. They were not referred as thugs, threatening, monstrous or dangerous despite them saying at a press conference that they would shoot and kill local police and government marshals if they tried to arrest them, or run them off the Refuge. 

Some White folks said had these thuggish renegades been African Americans males with guns they would have been shot and killed the first day they seized the refuge. It took the FBI almost a month to finally arrest the “patriots” and charge them with crimes. One of the thugs was shot and killed by federal agents. He is being hailed as a hero by his fellow thugs. The media have not referred them as thugs, criminals, monsters, dangerous or burglars.

“Underlying much of that subconscious racial bias is the most enduring, corrosive racial stereotype in America: the black-as-criminal mindset. Historian David Levering summarizes it: ‘Whites commit crimes but Blacks are criminals.’ While Whites can and do commit a great deal of minor and major crimes, the race as a whole is never tainted by those acts.
 
"When Blacks violate the law, all members of the race are considered suspect. I used to be an anchor on Court TV. When we heard about a new arrest for some horrific crime, my African American co-host would whisper, ‘Please don’t let him be Black.’ It would never enter my mind to wish that a bad guy not be White, because no matter how sick the crime, other members of the White race are not impugned". (Alternet, from the book “White People Commit the Most Heinous Crimes, So Why Is America Terrified of Black Men?”)

Black males are routinely profiled by cops; but not White males. They are free to be citizens without a hassle. Black males and boys are stopped on suspicion of committing crimes that have not been committed. White cops love exercising their control over Black males and boys, knowing they are helpless to react without there being dire or fatal consequences. Cops have permission to do whatever they want in African American communities. After all, “these people” live in poverty, are perpetually unemployed, deal drugs, partake in drugs, are full of rage, uneducated and extremely violent. Black males and boys have to be contained, retained and controlled, unlike violent White males and boys.

Prison system and jails are filled with African Americans who have committed nonviolent crimes. Many young White males are given lesser sentences for committing serious crimes. Some White juries have been noted to say they did not want to ruin the lives of young White males. They deserve a second chance. Black males and boys do not get the same consideration. White males are capable of self-correcting themselves. Black males are allowed the time to self-correct.

It goes without saying that detrimental images of Black males and boys have been successfully delivered to the public by the media. Foreigners get their impression of Black males and boys from TV, movies and the print media. I would be remiss if I did not say that rappers in their videos also create the same detrimental images.

A Wall Street Journal story titled “Racial Gap in Men’s Sentencing”, states that, “Prison sentences of Black men were nearly 20 percent longer than those of White men for similar crimes in recent years, an analysis by the U.S. Sentencing Commission found”.

Eleni Delimpalttadaki Janis, public opinion and research coordinator, The Opportunity Agenda in New York, said of the media: “You see few images of Black men and boys being good students or being good fathers. There are really fewer images of men those roles are compared to reality. It’s not just the news coverage. It’s also every type of media, including video games. They all do a good job at using negative images of Black boys and men for entertainment”.

A year ago I was watching a show in which two men in prison were up parole hearings. One was Black man, the other White. The Black man had robbed a White woman, beating her up pretty badly. The White guy had a criminal record, in addition to a bad attitude and anger issues. The Black male was a model prisoner. He had earned his GED, and a college degree. He helped other prisoners get their educations, plus he had strong family support. I forget how many years he had been in prison, but it was a long time. When he appeared before the board he was neatly dressed, well spoken, well mannered.

The White prisoner was belligerent, sloppily dressed, poor posture, full of anger, had not worked towards his GED, exhibited absolute distain for the board. The woman that the Black man robbed and assaulted was at the hearing. She said on camera that she had forgiven him, and wanted him to get paroled. She did not express this at the hearing. 

After listening to the prisoners make their cases for parole, the board made its decision. The majority ruled that the Black man was not ready to be paroled. His accomplishments meant nothing. Despite apologizing for the crime that he committed when he was a young man on drugs, and accepting responsibility for his crime, the board denied his request. The implication is that he was still a danger to society. Both he and his family were disappointed. They were sure he would get paroled this time around. They had walked down this road for many years.

The angry White prisoner was granted parole. He had to promise that he would enroll in anger management classes to control his temper. A board member, a White male, looked at the White woman sitting across the room. They smiled at each other. She got what she wanted. She did not want to see the Black inmate paroled. She was there to see that he never gets out of prison for what he did to her.

Stifling, suffocating images of Black men and boys in the media  

During the O. J. Simpson trial, the media made the ex-football player the poster boy for men who kill and abuse their wives and girlfriends. This is the case whether the Black male is in sports, entertainment, just a regular guy. He is thrown in the spotlight as an abusive brute.

 O. J. Simpson's original and altered photo

When White males physically assault or kill their wives or girlfriends reporters tend to remove the rough edges in their reporting. They try to find something good to say about the perpetrator; a reason for his actions. Magazines and newspaper do not darken the White male’s face to make him look sinister the way Time magazine darkened O. J. Simpson’s face.

In 2011 a daylong conference was held at a Pittsburg University. The discussion covered African American males in the media. The conference theme was "Evolving the Images of the African American Male in the Media". Larry Davis, dean of the School of Social Work, spoke about the “damaging psychological effects that negative media images have on African American males.

“Overwhelmingly, White Americans learn about African Americans not through personal relationships, but through images shown by media. Unfortunately, Blacks, too, consume these same images. Black males are facing increasing difficulties obtaining positive life outcomes and avoiding negative ones,” Davis said in estimating the importance of the conference. “We must change the way Black males are perceived and perceive themselves”.

A Newsweek article titled “The Media Narrative of Black Men in America is All Wrong”, written by Larry Downing, revealed what is often printed and promoted by the media about African American males not getting college educations. He writes that more than ever Black men are enrolling in college. And, yes, Black fathers do tackle the duties of caring for their children. Another much touted myth by the media is that Black fathers are not involved in the lives of their children. This also applies to White fathers, but that is less believable, given that the media readily implies that all White men are fathers to their children from beginning to end.

“Black fathers living with their children are more likely to take on everyday childcare duties than fathers in other demographic groups. Of fathers who live with their children, Black men are more likely to be intimately involved in their lives. For example, Black men living with their children are more likely to bathe, dress, diaper or assist their child in the bathroom than fathers in all other demographic groups. Additionally, a survey shows that black fathers living with their children are more likely to help them with homework on a daily basis”.

Downing concluded that it is time for the media to get past the stereotypes of African American males. “Despite these impressive improvements in various indicators of success, the media continues to highlight a negative narrative that associates Black men with violence, crime and poverty. It’s time for the media to report the true story—not the outdated stereotype”.

At the conference Dr. Larry Davis explained that media coverage describing African American males as “lazy, dumb and violent can have an effect on their life trajectory”. 

Citing comparisons from TV news Davis said mugshots of Black males likened to White males are four times as likely to appear on local TV news. Their names are twice as likely to be shown on screen. In addition, a Black male or boy arrested for a crime is twice as likely to be shown in handcuffs. 

“The Black community has recognized [that] these negative images in the media have been going on for decades. More than four in five Blacks say that representation of Blacks in television and movies has a negative impact on society’s views of African Americans”.

The projection of unfavorable images, which are seen by both Whites and Blacks, creates a cycle of negativity. “This affects the way Whites see Blacks, the way Blacks believe Whites see them and the way Blacks see themselves", he said.

A lot of truth in the old adage: 'The more things change the more they remain the same'

Seven years ago presidential candidate Barack Obama made a speech that covers many of the same ills that still sickens America today. Obama talked about race, his biracial background, affirmative action, Rev. Jeremiah Wright, who was a live boogeyman according to the media and pundits, particularly Fox. Obama touched on segregated school and inadequate educations, legalized (government) discrimination (see Poet With An Opinion article titled: Government sanctioned racism and discrimination kept Black out of White neighborhoods), lack of health care, reasons for White anger and Black anger, poverty and more. Candidate Obama’s speech reveals that change is hard for some Americans to accept, and how the GOP decided it would slow roll the train as it headed towards progress and change. I italicized some paragraphs to signify problems that are stopping America from becoming the sum total of her intended deed, not the absolute total of her misguided creed.

 March 18, 2008: Obama Campaign Speech on Race

(Cheers, applause). Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you. (Applause continues). Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you. Let me begin by thanking Harris Wofford for his contributions to this country in so many different ways. He exemplifies what we mean by the word "citizen." And so we are very grateful to him for all the work he has done, and I'm thankful for the gracious and thoughtful introduction. "We the people, in order to form a more perfect union." Two hundred and twenty-one years ago, in a hall that still stands across the street, a group of men gathered and, with these simple words, launched America's improbable experiment in democracy. Farmers and scholars, statesmen and patriots who had traveled across the ocean to escape tyranny and persecution finally made real their declaration of independence at a Philadelphia convention that lasted through the spring of 1787. The document they produced was eventually signed but ultimately unfinished. It was stained by this nation's original sin of slavery, a question that divided the colonies and brought the convention to a stalemate until the Founders chose to allow the slave trade to continue for at least 20 more years and to leave any final resolution to future generations.

Of course, the answer to the slavery question was already embedded within our Constitution, a Constitution that had at is very core the ideal of equal citizenship under the law; a Constitution that promised its people liberty and justice, and a union that could be and should be perfected over time. And yet words on a parchment would not be enough to deliver slaves from bondage, or provide men and women of every color and creed their full rights and obligations as citizens of the United States. What would be needed were Americans in successive generations who were willing to do their part-- through protests and struggle, on the streets and in the courts, through a civil war and civil disobedience, and always at great risk -- to narrow that gap between the promise of our ideals and the reality of their time.

This was one of the tasks we set forth at the beginning of this presidential campaign -- to continue the long march of those who came before us, a march for a more just, more equal, more free, more caring and more prosperous America. I chose to run for president at this moment in history because I believe deeply that we cannot solve the challenges of our time unless we solve them together; unless we perfect our union by understanding that we may have different stories, but we hold common hopes; that we may not look the same and we may not have come from the same place, but we all want to move in the same direction: towards a better future for of children and our grandchildren. And this belief comes from my unyielding faith in the decency and generosity of the American people, but it also comes from my own story. 

I am the son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas. I was raised with the help of a white grandfather who survived the Depression to serve in Patton's Army during World War II and a white grandmother who worked on a bomber assembly line at Fort Leavenworth while he was overseas. I've gone to some of the best schools in America, and I've lived in one of the world's poorest nations. I am married to a black American who carries within her the blood of slaves and slave owners, an inheritance we pass on to our two precious daughters. I have brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, uncles and cousins, of every race and every hue, scattered across three continents, and for as long as I live, I will never forget that in no other country on Earth is my story even possible. It's a story that hasn't made me the most conventional of candidates. But it is a story that has seared into my genetic makeup the idea that this nation is more than the sum of its parts; that out of many, we are truly one. 

Now, throughout the first year of this campaign, against all predictions to the contrary, we saw how hungry the American people were for this message of unity. Despite the temptation to view my candidacy through a purely racial lens, we won commanding victories in states with some of the whitest populations in the country. In South Carolina, where the Confederate flag still flies, we built a powerful coalition of African-Americans and white Americans. This is not to say that race has not been an issue in the campaign. At various stages in the campaign, some commentators have deemed me either "too black" or "not black enough."

We saw racial tensions bubble to the surface during the weeks before the South Carolina primary. The press has scoured every single exit poll for the latest evidence of racial polarization, not just in terms of white and black, but black and brown as well. And yet it's only been in the last couple of weeks that the discussion of race in this campaign has taken a particularly divisive turn. On one end of the spectrum, we've heard the implication that my candidacy is somehow an exercise in affirmative action; that it's based solely on the desire of wild and wide-eyed liberals to purchase racial reconciliation on the cheap. On the other end, we've heard my former pastor, Jeremiah Wright, use incendiary language to express views that have the potential not only to widen the racial divide, but views that denigrate both the greatness and the goodness of our nation, and that rightly offend white and black alike. I have already condemned, in unequivocal terms, the statements of Reverend Wright that have caused such controversy and, in some cases, pain. 

For some, nagging questions remain. Did I know him to be an occasionally fierce critic of American domestic and foreign policy? Of course. Did I ever hear him make remarks that could be considered controversial while I sat in the church? Yes. Did I strongly disagree with many of his political views? Absolutely, just as I'm sure many of you have heard remarks from your pastors, priests or rabbis with which you strongly disagree. But the remarks that have caused this recent firestorm weren't simply controversial. They weren't simply a religious leader's efforts to speak out against perceived injustice. Instead, they expressed a profoundly distorted view of this country, a view that sees white racism as endemic, and that elevates what is wrong with America above all that we know is right with America; a view that sees the conflicts in the Middle East as rooted primarily in the actions of stalwart allies like Israel instead of emanating from the perverse and hateful ideologies of radical Islam. 

As such, Reverend Wright's comments were not only wrong, but divisive, divisive at a time when we need unity, racially charged at a time when we need to come together to solve a set of monumental problems -- two wars, a terrorist threat, a falling economy, a chronic health-care crisis, and potentially devastating climate change --problems that are neither black or white or Latino or Asian, but rather problems that confront us all. Given my background, my politics and my professed values and ideals, there will no doubt be those for whom my statements of condemnation are not enough. Why associate myself with Reverend Wright in the first place, they may ask. Why not join another church? And I confess that if all that I knew of Reverend Wright were the snippets of those sermons that have run in an endless loop on the television sets and You Tube, if Trinity United Church of Christ conformed to the caricatures being peddled by some commentators, there is no doubt that I would react in much the same way.

But the truth is, that isn't all that I know of the man. The man I met more than 20 years ago is a man who helped introduce me to my Christian faith, a man who spoke to me about our obligations to love one another, to care for the sick and lift up the poor. He is a man who served his country as a United States Marine and who has studied and lectured at some of the finest universities and seminaries in the country, and who over 30 years has led a church that serves the community by doing God's work here on Earth -- by housing the homeless, ministering to the needy, providing day care services and scholarships and prison ministries, and reaching out to those suffering from HIV/AIDS. 

In my first book, "Dreams From My Father," I describe the experience of my first service at Trinity, and it goes as follows. "People began to shout, to rise from their seats and clap and cry out, a forceful wind carrying the reverend's voice up to the rafters. And in that single note -- hope! -- I heard something else. At the foot of that cross, inside the thousands of churches across the city, I imagined the stories of ordinary black people merging with the stories of David and Goliath, Moses and Pharaoh, the Christians in the lion's den, Ezekiel's field of dry bones. Those stories --of survival and freedom and hope -- became our story, my story – the blood that had spilled was our blood, the tears our tears -- until this black church, on this bright day, seemed once more a vessel carrying the story of a people into future generations and into a larger world.

Our trials and triumphs became at once unique and universal, black and more than black. In chronicling our journey, the stories and songs gave us a meaning (sic) to reclaim memories that we didn't need to feel shame about, memories that all people might study and cherish, and with which we could start to rebuild. "That has been my experience at Trinity. Like other predominantly black churches across the country, Trinity embodies the black community in its entirety -- the doctor and the welfare mom, the model student and the former gang-banger. Like other black churches, Trinity's services are full of raucous laughter and sometimes bawdy humor. They are full of dancing and clapping and screaming and shouting that may seem jarring to the untrained ear. The church contains in full the kindness and cruelty, the fierce intelligence and the shocking ignorance, the struggles and successes, the love and, yes, the bitterness and biases that make up the black experience in America.

And this helps explain, perhaps, my relationship with Reverend Wright. As imperfect as he may be, he has been like family to me. He strengthened my faith, officiated my wedding and baptized my children. Not once in my conversations with him have I heard him talk about any ethnic group in derogatory terms, or treat whites with whom he interacted with anything but courtesy and respect. He contains within him the contradictions, the good and the bad, of the community that he has served diligently for so many years. I can no more disown him than I can disown the black community. I can no more disown him than I can my white grandmother, a woman who helped raise me, a woman who sacrificed again and again for me, a woman who loves me as much as she loves anything in this world, but a woman who once confessed her fear of black men who passed her by on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe. These people are a part of me, and they are part of America, this country that I love. 

Now some will see this as an attempt to justify or excuse comments that are simply inexcusable. I can assure you it is not. And I suppose the politically safe thing would be to move on from this episode and just hope that it fades into the woodwork. We can dismiss Reverend Wright as a crank or a demagogue, just as some have dismissed Geraldine Ferraro, in the aftermath of her recent statements, as harboring some deep-seated bias. But race is an issue that I believe this nation cannot afford to ignore right now. We would be making the same mistake that Reverend Wright made in his offending sermons about America: to simplify and stereotype and amplify the negative to the point that it distorts reality. The fact is that the comments that have been made and the issues that have surfaced over the last few weeks reflect the complexities of race in this country that we've never really worked through -- a part of our union that we have not yet made perfect. And if we walk away now, if we simply retreat into our respective corners, we will never be able to come together and solve challenges like health care or education or the need to find good jobs for every American. Understanding. (Interrupted by applause). 

Understanding this reality requires a reminder of how we arrived at this point. As William Faulkner once wrote, the past isn't dead and buried; in fact, it isn't even past. We do not need to recite here the history of racial injustice in this country. But we do need to remind ourselves that so many of the disparities that exist between the African American community and the larger American community today can be traced directly to inequalities passed on from an earlier generation that suffered under the brutal legacy of slavery and Jim Crow. Segregated schools were and are inferior schools. We still haven't fixed them, fifty years after Brown versus Board of Education. (Applause)  And the inferior education they provided, then and now, helps explain the pervasive achievement gap between today's black and white students. Legalized discrimination -- where blacks were prevented, often through violence, from owning property, or loans were not granted to African American business owners, or black homeowners could not access FHA mortgages, or blacks were excluded from unions or the police force or the fire department -- meant that black families could not amass any meaningful wealth to bequeath to future generations. 

That history helps explain the wealth and income gap between blacks and whites, and the concentrated pockets of poverty that persists in so many of today's urban and rural communities. A lack of economic opportunity among black men, and the shame and frustration that came from not being able to provide for one's family, contributed to the erosion of black families -- a problem that welfare policies for many years may have worsened. And the lack of basic services in so many urban black neighborhoods -- parks for kids to play in, police walking the beat, regular garbage pickup, building code enforcement -- all helped create a cycle of violence, blight and neglect that continues to haunt us. This is the reality in which Reverend Wright and other African Americans of his generation grew up. They came of age in the late'50s and early '60s, a time when segregation was still the law of the land and opportunity was systematically constricted. What's remarkable is not how many failed in the face of discrimination but how many men and women overcame the odds, how many were able to make a way out of no way for those like me who would come after them.

But for all those who scratched and clawed their way to get a piece of the American dream, there were many who didn't make it --those who were ultimately defeated, in one way or another, by discrimination. That legacy of defeat was passed on to future generations, those young men and increasingly young women who we see standing on street corners or languishing in our prisons, without hope or prospects for the future. Even for those blacks who did make it, questions of race and racism continue to define their worldview in fundamental ways. For the men and women of Reverend Wright's generation, the memories of humiliation and doubt and fear have not gone away, nor the anger and the bitterness of those years. That anger may not get expressed in public, in front of white co-workers or white friends, but it does find voice in the barbershop or the beauty shop, around the kitchen table. At times, that anger is exploited by politicians, to gin up votes along racial lines or to make up for a politician's own failings. And occasionally it finds voice in the church on Sunday morning, in the pulpit and in the pews. The fact that so many people are surprised to hear that anger in some of Reverend Wright's sermons simply reminds us of the old truism that the most segregated hour of American life occurs on Sunday morning. That -- (Applause) -- that anger is not always productive. 

Indeed, all too often it distracts attention from solving real problems. It keeps us from squarely facing our own complicity within the African-American community in our own condition. It prevents the African-American community from forging the alliances it needs to bring about real change. But the anger is real; it is powerful; and to simply wish it away, to condemn it without understanding its roots only serves to widen the chasm of misunderstanding that exists between the races. In fact, a similar anger exists within segments of the white community. Most working- and middle-class white Americans don't feel that they have been particularly privileged by their race. Their experience is the immigrant experience. As far as they're concerned, no one handed them anything; they built it from scratch. They've worked hard all their lives, many times only to see their jobs shipped overseas or their pensions dumped after a lifetime of labor.  

They are anxious about their futures, and they feel their dreams slipping away. And in an era of stagnant wages and global competition, opportunity comes to be seen as a zero sum game, in which your dreams come at my expense. So when they are told to bus their children to a school across town; when they hear an African American is getting an advantage in landing a good job or a spot in a good college because of an in justice that they themselves never committed; when they're told that their fears about crime in urban neighborhoods are somehow prejudiced, resentment builds over time. 

Like the anger within the black community, these resentments aren't always expressed in polite company, but they have helped shape the political landscape for at least a generation. Anger over welfare and affirmative action helped forge the Reagan coalition. Politicians routinely exploited fears of crime for their own electoral ends. Talk show hosts and conservative commentators built entire careers unmasking bogus claims of racism while dismissing legitimate discussions of racial injustice and inequality as mere political correctness or reverse racism. (Applause.) And just as black anger often proved counterproductive, so have these white resentments distracted attention from the real culprits of the middle class squeeze: a corporate culture rife with inside dealing, questionable accounting practices and short-term greed; a Washington dominated by lobbyists and special interests; economic policies that favor the few over the many. 

And yet, to wish away the resentments of white Americans, to label them as misguided or even racist, without recognizing they are grounded in legitimate concerns, this too widens the racial divide and blocks the path to understanding. This is where we are right now. It's a racial stalemate we've been stuck in for years. And contrary to the claims of some of my critics, black and white, I have never been so naive as to believe that we can get beyond our racial divisions in a single election cycle or with a single candidate, particularly -- (Applause) – particularly a candidacy as imperfect as my own. But I have asserted a firm conviction, a conviction rooted in my faith in God and my faith in the American people, that working together we can move beyond some of our old racial wounds, and that in fact we have no choice -- we have no choice if we are to continue on the path of a more perfect union. For the African-American community, that path means embracing the burdens of our past without becoming victims of our past. 

It means continuing to insist on a full measure of justice in every aspect of American life. But it also means binding our particular grievances --for better health care, and better schools, and better jobs -- to the larger aspirations of all Americans: the white woman struggling to break the glass ceiling, the white man who's been laid off, the immigrant trying to feed his family. And it means taking full responsibility for own lives, by demanding more from our fathers, and spending more time with our children, and reading to them, and teaching them that while they may face challenges and discrimination in their own lives, they must never succumb to despair or cynicism; they must always believe -- (Applause) -- they must always believe that they can write their own destiny. Ironically, this quintessentially American -- and yes, conservative -- notion of self-help found frequent expression in Reverend Wright's sermons. But what my former pastor too often failed to understand is that embarking on a program of self-help also requires a belief that society can change. The profound mistake of Reverend Wright's sermons is not that he spoke about racism in our society. It's that he spoke as if our society was static; as if no progress has been made; as if this country -- a country that has made it possible for one of his own members to run for the highest office in the land and build a coalition of white and black -- (Applause) -- Latino, Asian, rich, poor, young and old -- is still irrevocably bound to a tragic past. (Applause continues).

What we know, what we have seen is that America can change. That is true genius of this nation. What we have already achieved gives us hope -- the audacity to hope -- for what we can and must achieve tomorrow. And in the white community, the path to a more perfect union means acknowledging that what ails the African-American community does not just exist in the minds of black people; that the legacy of discrimination -- and current incidents of discrimination, while less overt than in the past -- that these things are real and must be addressed, not just with words, but with deeds: by investing in our schools and our communities, by enforcing our civil rights laws and ensuring fairness in our criminal justice system, by providing this generation with ladders of opportunity that were unavailable for previous generations. It requires all Americans to realize that your dreams do not have to come at the expense of my dreams; that investing in the health, welfare and education of black and brown and white children will ultimately help all of America prosper. (Applause).

In the end, then, what is called for is nothing more and nothing less than what all the world's great religions demand: that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Let us be our brother's keeper, Scripture tells us. Let us be our sister's keeper. Let us find that common stake we all have in one another, and let our politics reflect that spirit as well. For we have a choice in this country.  

We can accept a politics that breeds division and conflict and cynicism. We can tackle race only as spectacle, as we did in the O. J. trial, or in the wake of tragedy, as we did in the aftermath of Katrina, or as fodder for the nightly news. We can play Reverend Wright's sermons on every channel every day and talk about them from now until the election, and make the only question in this campaign whether or not the American people think that I somehow believe or sympathize with his most offensive words. We can pounce on some gaffe by a Hillary supporter as evidence that she's playing the race card, or we can speculate on whether white men will all flock to John McCain in the general election, regardless of his policies. We can do that, but if we do, I can tell you that in the next election, we'll be talking about some other distraction, and then another one, and then another one. And nothing will change. (Applause).

That is one option. Or, at this moment, in this election, we can come together and say, "Not this time." This time we want to talk about the crumbling schools that are stealing the future of black children and white children and Asian children and Hispanic children and Native American children. (Applause.) This time we want to reject the cynicism that tells us that these kids can't learn, that those kids who don't look like us are somebody else's problem. The children of America are not "those kids," they are our kids, and we will not let them fall behind in the 21st century economy, not this time. This time we want to talk about how the lines in the emergency room are filled with whites and blacks and Hispanics who do not have health care, who don't have the power on their own to overcome the special interests in Washington, but who can take them on if we do it together.

This time we want to talk about the shuttered mills that once provided a decent life for men and women of every race, and the homes for sale that once belonged to Americans from every religion, every region, every walk of life. This time we want to talk about the fact that the real problem is not that someone who doesn't look like you might take your job; it's that the corporation you work for will ship it overseas for nothing more than a profit. This time -- (interrupted by applause.) This time we want to talk about the men and women of every color and creed who serve together and fight together and bleed together under the same proud flag. We want to talk about how to bring them home from a war that should've never been authorized and should've never been waged -- (Applause) -- and we want to talk about how we'll show our patriotism by caring for them and their families --(Applause) -- and giving them the benefits they have earned. I would not be running for president if I didn't believe with all my heart that this is what the vast majority of Americans want for this country.  

This union may never be perfect, but generation after generation has shown that it can always be perfected. And today, whenever I find myself feeling doubtful or cynical about this possibility, what gives me the most hope is the next generation, the young people whose attitudes and beliefs and openness to change have already made history in this election. (Applause.) There is one story in particular that I'd like to leave you with today, a story I told when I had the great honor of speaking on Dr. King's birthday at his home church, Ebenezer Baptist, in Atlanta. There's a young 23-year-old woman, a white woman, named Ashley Baia, who organized for our campaign in Florence, South Carolina. She'd been working to organize a mostly African-American community since the beginning of this campaign, and one day she was in a round table discussion where everyone went around telling their story and why they were there. And Ashley said that when she was 9 years old, her mother got cancer. And because she had to miss days of work, she was let go and lost her health care. They had to file for bankruptcy, and that's when Ashley decided that she had to do something to help her mom. She knew that food was one of their most expensive costs, and so Ashley convinced her mother that what she really liked and really wanted to eat more than anything else was mustard and relish sandwiches, because that was the cheapest way to eat.

That's the mind of a 9-year-old. She did this for a year, until her mom got better. And so Ashley told everyone at the roundtable that the reason she had joined our campaign was so that she could help the millions of other children in the country who want and need to help their parents too. Now, Ashley might have made a different choice. Perhaps somebody told her along the way that the source of her mother's problems were blacks who were on welfare and too lazy to work, or Hispanics who were coming into the country illegally. But she didn't. She sought out allies in her fight against injustice. Anyway, Ashley finishes her story and then goes around the room and asks everyone else why they're supporting the campaign. They all have different stories and different reasons. Many bring up a specific issue. 

And finally they come to this elderly black man who's been sitting there quietly the entire time. And Ashley asks him why he's there. And he doesn't bring up a specific issue. He does not say health care or the economy. He does not say education or the war. He does not say that he was there because of Barack Obama. He simply says to everyone in the room, I am here because of Ashley. (Applause.) I'm here because of Ashley. Now, by itself, that single moment of recognition between that young white girl and that old black man is not enough. It is not enough to give health care to the sick, or jobs so the jobless, or education to our children. But it is where we start. It is where our union grows stronger. And as so many generations have come to realize over the course of the 221 years since a band of patriots signed that document right here in Philadelphia, that is where perfection begins. Thank you very much, everybody. Thank you. (Applause.)