Each week, I receive several correspondences from black people calling me an Uncle Tom, a race traitor and that sort of thing.
The most recent epithets came as a result of my column asking Tampa Bay Buccaneers defensive tackle Warren Sapp to shut his mouth, stop acting like a child and get back to playing the exemplary football that made him a repeat Pro Bowler.
Weeks later, I am still being accused of dissing not only Sapp but African-American culture itself. So, the question is: Exactly what is African-American, or black, culture?
According to my critics, the likes of Sapp and the late rapper Tupac Shakur epitomize African-American culture. If they are right - although I believe that some are simply venting out of anger - then I primarily dislike their brand of black culture.
What do I mean?
Although I appreciate Tupac's poetic genius, I dislike his gangsta persona. Remember, Tupac was a violent brother, and he died in a hail of automatic weapon rounds. I like Sapp's work ethic (which I would advise all youngsters to emulate) and his love of the game, but I dislike the nasty image, on and off the field, he has faithfully cultivated.
Again, if these two men represent African-American culture, then I have major concerns with my culture.
Now, to the essential point of this column: We - African-Americans - should strive to be admired for all the right reasons. I obsess over who we are as a people, about how we fit into a nation that continues to treat us as outsiders after all this time. I obsess over our survival. Sure, we will survive like everyone else. But what will be the status of our collective health in another 100 years, or 50 years even?
These are questions I ponder daily. I have convinced myself that the time has come for mature African-Americans to redefine black culture. Mature blacks must wrest back from the Sapps and Tupacs the values that sustained our people during the long years when de facto and de jure practices guaranteed our third-class citizenship.
We must relearn the sentiments of self-determination and introspection. We should not tolerate another black-on-black killing, another neighbor's house being invaded, another ounce of cocaine being sold on our streets, another adult luring a boy into a deadly confrontation with the police, another child lollygagging and never opening a book.
Mature blacks should unapologetically teach the values their elders taught them. Earlier generations of blacks were taught, for example, the practical power of simple politeness. A "yes, sir" still opens doors of opportunity. A "thank you" still commands respect from others. An "I apologize" still forges trust. Allowing someone else to "go first" in line still paints a smile on the other person's face. "Please forgive me" still elevates the worth of everyone involved in a given conflict.
Blacks nationwide plead for economic development, and we complain of discrimination in the workplace and elsewhere. Well, I have a radical solution for many of our complaints - at least where we have control: We, as a people, need to apprehend the subversive efficacy of the intellect and formal education.
The most subversive act an African-American child can commit in school is to demonstrate a mastery of standard, formal English. Imagine a boy mastering algebra and chemistry. Suppose the same boy completes all of his assignments with excellent grades? Suppose he stays on top of current events? Suppose his teachers and principal like him?
This boy would take away every excuse for whites to legitimately deny him anything. At the same time, he would be admired for at least one good reason: He values learning.
Being intellectually capable is black people's most important possession. Acquiring knowledge and using our intellect to better ourselves are the most powerful and most useful acts we can commit to subvert a system that has kept us down.
My fraternal and maternal grandparents were quiet, determined subversives. I loved listening to them talk about the "days before welfare." I remember how these unflappable people put their families before everything else; how children dared not insult an elder inside or outside the home; how doing well in school was taken for granted; how "cutting up" in public and "shaming the family" were not tolerated.
Calling me old-fashioned and an Uncle Tom does not change this simple truth: If African-Americans are to succeed and enjoy the benefits of this rich culture, mature adults must persuade our children to strive to be admired for all the right reasons.
