By Mansfield Frazier
Excuse me if I sound cynical, but Gov. Kasich’s meeting with so-called black leaders on May 31 strikes me as something designed and orchestrated by someone in the backroom of a Wall Street brokerage firm. The attendees were, for the most part, black “Republicrats”… folks who pretend to be Democrats to gain stature within the black community, but act more like Republicans when dollars are on the table.
Interestingly, one of the issues the governor supposedly was touting was his sentencing reform efforts and plans to repeal some collateral sanctions which prevent formerly incarcerated persons from obtaining employment… issues State Senator Shirley Smith has been pushing for years, but alas, she was not in the virtually all-male room. Also absent was anyone else that knows something about (and fights for) these types of concerns.
The reason for the omission was simple: this was a handpicked group that would not ask any questions (tough or otherwise)… or point out that reform in the criminal justice/reentry arena has virtually nothing to do with a sense of fairness as the governor was pretending; it’s all about saving tax dollars. Some states are on the verge of bankruptcy due to over-spending on needless incarceration of low-level offenders — who are, in the main, youthful blacks… and mostly for petty drug cases.
How any self-respecting true conservative (who supposedly loves liberty and hates wasteful spending) can support a carceral system as inefficient and wasteful as the one we’ve developed in this country over the last half-century is a question for the ages. The disconnect between their stated beliefs and the reality they’ve created is nothing short of breathtaking.
No one in the room was going to ask the governor about the pimping of prisoners and their families by the prison/industrial complex, as exhibited by the exorbitant rates charged by private, Republican-owned phone companies that make it very expensive — and in some cases cost-prohibitive — to stay in touch. And this scurrilous practice of unconscionably overcharging people because they at the mercy of the state continues unabated in spite of the fact clear evidence exists that prisoners who do keep in contact with family members have a lower recidivism rate once they exit prison. This is classic “saying one thing and then doing another.”
But the meeting really wasn’t about prison-related issues — that was merely a fig leaf; the meeting was about access to power and money, period. Trust me, I get it: The best thing you can do for poor people is to not be one of them… but the question is, just how much money is enough, and how much selling out of the black agenda will some people engage in pursuing the almighty dollar?
I’m certainly not going to cry poverty; I’ve always lived pretty well and have every intention of continuing to do so. But again, how much money is enough? People whose only goal in life is to accumulate wealth should not pretend to be black leaders; the problems of our race are too great for such pretense.
With fully one third of the black race in America wallowing in poverty and despair, the last people the black race need as leaders are those whose eyes are so permanently fixed on gaining more and more money (in spite of the fact they are already, by anyone’s standards, very well off) they only pay lip service to the black agenda… and often don’t even bother to do that.
Is it possible to earn a comfortable living without selling out your principles? Certainly. Can middleclass blacks live well while staying focused on the uplifting of the race… rather than gaining membership in exclusive country clubs and further distancing themselves from their lest fortunate brethren? Well, we haven’t done so well on that point. Most assuredly not all blacks of means fall into the greedy, hard-hearted category — some are indeed doing their part and then some.
But know this: Until the members of the majority culture witness more blacks with the financial wherewithal doing more to help lift their less fortunate brothers and sisters out of poverty, they’re going to continue to shrug their shoulders and ask: “If they don’t care about their own, then why should we?”
No Shirts, No Shoes, No Sagging, No Service
When the news recently broke that the newly-opened Horseshoe Casino had quietly instituted a dress and conduct code, I knew my phone and email would blow up with messages alleging racism since the “new rules” specifically targeted sagging pants and the wearing of hoodies. But while both manners of dress obviously are more associated with young, urban black males… it’s certainly not exclusive to them.
Last week I was stopped at a traffic light in the virtually all-white suburban enclave of North Olmsted and there they were, ambling down the street: an all-white crew of five “whiggers.” “Snoop Dog” Kolwalski and his road dogs (road puppies was more like it). Pants sagging down almost mid-thigh, oversized hoodies swallowing their bodies up, and too large baseball caps askew and half-assed backwards, they looked as silly as similarly dressed young blacks.
I couldn’t help it: I rolled down my window and yelled, “Wazup, dawgs?”
One of them gleefully pumped his clinched fist into the air in a modified Black Power salute while the rest of them were beaming because the genuineness of their street creds was being recognized by a dude of so melanosome a hue. I then pulled over, pretended I was lost, and asked them for directions to the specialty tool store I’ve been to more than a dozen times over the years. I simply wanted to hear their voices, their cadences… to see if MTV and the other culture-shaping TV outlets had completely done their job. They could walk the walk, but I wanted to see if they could talk the talk: they could, and with a vengeance.
As they all rushed up to give me directions to the store, all I had to do was close my eyes and I would have sworn they were all from deep down in the Garden Valley housing projects… one of the meanest, most destitute, and most dangerous parts of the ‘hood. Each of them was attempting to sound more “down” than the other; it was all I could do to keep a straight face.
Which left me to wonder: Were these white youth — all from a good neighborhood with decent schools and middleclass advantages — merely going through a pretend phase in their lives… or were they going to drop out of high school and get a prison number or two early in life — just because TV rap videos tells them it’s a cool thing to do?
But no matter, so much for racism being the driving force behind the casino’s new rules… these white youth would be subjected to them also… perhaps even more so for looking like silly little imposters to the police guarding the doors.
Instead of questioning if the treatment of wearers of saggy pants is racist, perhaps we blacks should be paying more attention to getting this demographic work ready. I recall that as the casino was being constructed black organizations were questioning if hiring for the facility would be done on a fair basis… which, by all appearances, it was.
But some young people — white, black and Hispanic — knock themselves out of contention for employment at the casino or anywhere else. I know, since at my vineyard I use young men from a nearby halfway house who have to complete X number of hours of volunteer work. It doesn’t take long for me to get to know them up close and personal after I tell them I have five prison numbers and once resided in the same facility they currently are in.
But the hard part is convincing many of them that working on grapevines (or even flipping hamburgers for that matter) usually requires two hands, and few tasks can be accomplished while having to use one hand to attempt to keep your pants from falling off your ass.
Now here’s the amazing part: Many of these black, white and Hispanic youth look at me as if I’ve revealed some deep dark secret of the universe when I jokingly tell them this; but it’s all in how the message is delivered, I guess. I make a joke out of it… since I’m O.G. I can do that.
I inform them that I care little how low they sag their pants at other times, when they are not trying to learn from me how to tend vines… a skill that can pay thirty grand a year once they learn it (and no one cares about a prison number!). But getting through to some of them is more than a notion, yet I still have to try… this is part of my giving back.
But the folks who run the Horseshoe Casino are undoubtedly going to enforce their new rules… no questions asked (or answered). For them it’s all about the Benjamins, baby, and they’re not about to allow some thuggish-looking dude (black, white or Hispanic) get in the way.
Hey, maybe we should just let casino owners rule the entire world since they’re getting ready to prove they can do the impossible: Get young dudes to pull up their sagging pants… that is, if they want to gain entrance to the fun and games of life.
From Cool Cleveland correspondent Mansfield B. Frazier mansfieldfATgmail.com. Frazier’s From Behind The Wall: Commentary on Crime, Punishment, Race and the Underclass by a Prison Inmate is available again in hardback. Snag your copy and have it signed by the author by visiting http://www.neighborhoodsolutionsinc.com.