Monday, January 19, 2015

The Darkest Hour Before the Dawn


“If I answered all criticism, I’d have time for nothing else.”
President Abraham Lincoln


Hotep,

Why are we so in tune with using a fast food drive thru rather than going inside of the establishment to order our food?  Have we forgotten the monumental “sit-in” of the Civil Rights era?  

Now tell me: at what point did sitting in the back of the bus become the general placement for the cool kids?  Without the legal ramification of being removed from the bus, we will by-pass the empty seats at the front and walk directly to the rear – subconsciously perpetuating the racial injustice that led to the infamous bus boycotts in Montgomery, Alabama during the 1960s.

At the age of 14, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. won an oratorical contest in Dublin, Georgia sponsored by the Negro Elks.  Ironically, the subject matter of his speech was “The Negro and the Constitution.” On the bus ride back to Atlanta, he and his schoolteacher, Mrs. Bradley, were forced to stand in the aisle for the duration of the 90 miles. 

The white bus driver insisted they give up their seats to white passengers.  In an interview with Playboy Magazine (1965), Dr. King describes that moment as the angriest he had ever been in his life.  Obviously, this was a dark period that preceded the dawn of the Montgomery, Alabama bus boycotts, and the historical achievements that labeled Ms. Rosa Parks as the first lady of the Civil Rights Movement. 

The darkest days these pioneers were forced to endure have made way for the dawn of a new era.  An era in which so many of us have elected to stem the progression of civil disobedience by rationalizing the plights of inequality and racial injustice as being the norm.

The persistence of a leader is what gets him/her through their journey.  A leader will reach their potential the best way they can.  It doesn’t matter if the road of travel is paved, riddled with potholes, or leads to a bridge road blocked by angry racist.  The leader will meet his/her destination because there is a purpose etched within their journey. 

In the process, a trail is blazed for upcoming generations to evolve – not regress.  As an elder of the “upcoming generations,” I am obligated to articulate the similarities between today’s platforms for activism (death penalty debate, culturally biased voter registration laws, and same sex marriage) and the quest for seeking equality under the umbrella of civil rights (integration of schools, local sit-ins, the right to vote and interracial marriage).

Dr. King’s legacy is the blueprint for being a societal thermostat; one who changes an environment and molds the popular opinion.  I do not have the luxury of discussing my personal journey with Dr. King, but for some reason I can hear him advising me through his words from 1965:

            “You can’t ride a man’s back unless it’s bent.”

I choose to walk upright as we embark on the 5th years of the W2TM journey.  This brand of journalism is an ongoing homage to the memory of the great Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and his belief in nonviolence being a powerful and just weapon.  I am the change I wish to see in the world.

Peace and Love,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2015 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

The Demise of a Transcript


My physical appearance is as simple as black and white.  What you see is who you’ve become.

I am a record that sets the tone for the rest of someone’s life, because whether they like it or not; I am their life.  It is me who decides whether they live or die.

My internal organs are the embodiment of the lies told by courtroom thespians, which periodically makes me a lifesaver when these flaws are discovered before the 11th hour. 

But where’s the fun in that?  I really enjoy being the decisive lie.  At times the pulse within my paragraphs enhance the sting of family secrets or failed relationships.

My retaliation to, No Justice! No Peace! Is inconspicuous compared to the fires burning in Ferguson, or an unoccupied cop cruiser being capsized by justice seekers. 

My sentences have stared into the eyes of the mightiest of men.  The tears I draw from their souls makes my print worthy of bestseller status. 

But there was something different – something oh so rare – on the last day I looked into the eyes of Willie Ervin Fisher.

You see, normally my appetite for disheartenment is satiated by the lack of a will to live.  Men will spend decades dissecting my words to no avail.  The realization of their fate is the unending feast to which I am always receptive. 

But there was hope in Fisher’s gape.  As he ripped me to shreds he looked as if what I had to say would not be the final word.  I could see his hopes for shedding the red jumpsuit for a medium custody placement.

I felt powerless as the weight of my existence decreased as he tore away at my deadly punctuations.  The sound of my dismantling drew the attention of his comrades, emotional supporters.

The truths behind their pupils stirred the exclamation within my remaining pages, then my power is restored.

I laughed as he attempted to console them.  His emotional supporters knew very well that my demise was the sound of his expiration. 

The pause for a pound and some kind words gave me time to decide which set of watery eyes would be my next “vic.”

Everyday I will be the replay of a man’s final judgment.

It’s just him and me behind the closed door, and a condemned man has no say; only my words count.

No one knows more than the transcript.

Still Livin’

MannofStat
Copyright © 2014 by Leroy Elwood Mann