Clearing up the myth that ‘Blacks don’t work well together’ | Guest Opinion
Over the course of the last few weeks I’ve overheard several people, both Black and White, quietly, regrettably and innocently share the perception that “Black people don’t work all that well together,” and that “We’re so divided.”
That’s a myth and a lie that needs to be addressed and cleared up due to the fact that it is simply not true.
Two years ago I saw The Links (an all Black non-profit) raise over 50K for scholarships for Black students. I’ve seen the board of the African American Community Cultural & Education Society pull off several successful fundraisers, all while working together Black. The two new Black leaders that took on Urban Poets Society appear to be doing well and working together just fine, and the Tri-City Juneteenth Community Council has been working well together while Black for over 40 years now.
So where does this misnomer arise from?
Well, I believe it is seeded deep in the psyche of the American consciousness that Black people are a monolith, that we all think, speak, eat, dance, sing and act the same. Therefore, whenever there are instances of us not “working well together” — like any other group of people — we are scrutinized, criticized, and doubted to possess the spirit of community that all other groups of people are presumed to have.
Nobody ever questions why the founder of PETA and the NRA don’t work so well together — it’s a foolish thought. It’s just as foolish to assume that Candace Owens and Ijeoma Oluo should be working well together.
Bottom line, Black people are not afforded the privilege of our individuality the way White people are. I’ll explain.
One of the last lectures that I gave at Columbia Basin College was simply titled “Racism in the Tri-Cities.” I touched on my basic talking points about racism, such as why “All Lives Matter” is so offensive, and what it feels like to get pulled over by police while being a Black father — the usual.
During the Q&A, a White male student in his mid- to late 20’s stood up and asked me if I had seen the new movie NWA starring Ice Cube and Easy E, and I said, “Oh yeah, I’ve seen it”, and casually and harmlessly he followed his first question with a question that I saw coming 400 years away: “Well, don’t you think those guys and those kinds of movies make you all look bad?”
I didn’t wince or flinch, nor did the fifty or so other White students in the class.
In everybody’s mind this question was totally legit and didn’t seem to set anyone’s racial alarms off, accept for my own. “I’m glad that you asked that.” I said. Then I answered his question with a question: “Do you think the KKK is making you and the rest of the audience members here today look bad?”
He looked up and to the right with a puzzled look on his face, and as I scanned the audience I saw that others also shared that confused expression that he had on his face.
They found my rebut to be uncouth and somewhat offensive, but saw nothing out of the ordinary with his question. I waited. Finally, a glint of clarity and epiphany washed over his face and he let out a long, drawn out “aaahhhhh” like a sigh of relief. A light came on.
I followed up with, your White skin grants you the most powerful privilege that’s hard to detect at first, but once you see it you can’t unsee it, and that’s your privilege to be an individual.
Privilege affords White people the invisible wealth of their individuality. As an individual you are never considered to be responsible for the transgressions or misdeeds of others that resemble you, whereas all Black people resemble the Black person on the proverbial “wanted poster” no matter what space we enter, no matter our status, our creed, or any other merit you might think would grant us individuality.
On top of that, some of us will get accused of “not being Black enough” if we don’t live up to the negative stereotypes that come with the idea that we are a monolith.
White people are granted a liberty here in America that Black people never get to experience unless we’re in a room full of just us Black people.
When we are just in a room full of our own, we feel safe to like or not like one another for legitimate reasons, and none of them are because we are Black. Black people care about the content of character of those we work with just as much as any other person that wants to work well with any other person or group of people.
I would find it impossible to work alongside Ben Carson due to ideological core differences, and I know that if I ever had to work with Kanye West on a community-based project, we would most likely argue the whole time and eventually abandon the project. I can’t support him wearing MAGA hats. At the core we are different, but on the surface I defend his right to be who he chooses to be as a Black person.
Though, due to the fact that as a group that is systematically targeted and historically oppressed, the pressure to work even better together out of necessity of survival would be wise to adhere to. But again, we are are just as much individuals in hard times as we are in joyful times.
To clear up the confusion, there is no such thing as a “divided Black community.” There is, however, a community of Black individuals.
Each of us work better with some people than others. Why? The list of reasons is just as long, varied and diverse as Black people are. We have different views, beliefs, personalities, and some of us mesh and clique and some of us don’t; just like White people.
Jordan Chaney is a Tri-City poet, columnist and author who works with youth in the community.
This story was originally published July 9, 2020 at 12:58 PM with the headline "Clearing up the myth that ‘Blacks don’t work well together’ | Guest Opinion."