Cycles of Violence

When I saw that the topic for the YM Blog-a-thon was violence, I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to actively engage in dialogue. I’ve never been directly affected by the violence that occurred in my neighborhood, which is more of a matter of extreme luck than anything else. I’ve never known anyone my age who was taken away as a result of gang violence, nor do I know anyone who is currently serving in Iraq. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I almost feel underqualified to speak about youth and the violence that constantly goes on around us.

However, last week in his monumental speech about Race in America, Obama said something that resonated through me:

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 pick-up and building code enforcement—all helped create a cycle of violence, blight and neglect that continues to haunt us.

As I remember the working class Black community in Chicago where I grew up, I recall the man who was shot down the block after a drug deal gone wrong, doing my homework and hearing fights going on in the street below my bedroom, and the stray bullet that came through my house on New Years’ Eve. The conditions that Obama so elegantly lay out all converge and snowball and even though I was fortunate enough not to experience these things directly, I know they’ve had an effect on the way I perceive the world around me.

I don’t think that the “Cycle of Violence” that Obama mentions is limited to members of the community. Because violence and fear are so racialized– that is, Americans carry their own stereotypes over who is and who isn’t to be feared, largely based on whether or not someone has dark skin– the cycle becomes difficult to break, and police violence becomes more pronounced. At least one study suggests that police insensitivity and lack of accountability are to blame for police brutality and shootings of people of color.

I hate that I live in a world where there is a war waged against people who look like me. Just as violence is racialized, it’s also largely gendered– because Black communities lack the resources and economic opportunities readily available in middle-class White communities, Black males often seek to regain power by nontraditional means. Largely related to the War on Drugs, the War on Black Males has led to increased rates of incarceration, public fear and even lowered life expectancy. The Black man is a dying breed, and the real shame is that the racial dialogue that Obama and the Wright Debacle has opened has been sensationalized as little more than a story about a radical, “neo-Islamist” Pastor scaring White people and pushing for Black Power.

I hate to be naive here, but sometimes I can’t help but wish for sweeping systemic change to come all at once. I know it won’t, but I have trouble imagining a world where I may someday have to struggle with how to raise a Black man while letting him know that the societal cards are stacked against him. How do we help our brothers, and our communities? How do we gain economic independence and provide better opportunities in the places we live? Jeremiah Wright may have said things in a tone of voice too harsh for some people to accept, but we can’t forget the heart of his message, nor should we ignore the painful history lessons that Obama gave in Monday’s speech.