[Durham INC] A perfect storm, Carl Kenney

[Carl Kenney]

To all,

Before I respond to Christine let me set the record
straight.  I am not an angry black
man.  I’m not blaming “the white man” for
keeping me down.  My intent is not to
fight for the continuation of the type of rhetoric that keeps people fragmented
due to some past evil.  I regard myself
an advocate for peace and understanding. 


 

I have used my own grapples as an illustration regarding the
ways race and racism pops up in our fine city. 
I have offered a perspective.  My
hope has been to generate a deeper conversation involving the covert nature of
racism.  My point has been simple. If a
man like me has a hard time making those ends meets, what about those with less
to bring to the table.

 

These conversations began after a blogpost.  For those who don’t know, I began writing
columns for the Herald-Sun in 1997. 
Since then I have dedicated my life and work to helping people see
beyond their assumptions.  That process
has offered me the benefit of opening my own eyes to the malice immersed in my
assumptions.  I have grown.  My prayer is that others have down the same.

 

My journey has been an amazing one.  The man I have become is one that I love more
than the one who began writing back in 1997. 
I see the world different because I have taken time to listen.  I’m a better Christian now.  I have traveled around the world to discover
the rich diversity of faith. I have embraced people who don’t look or think
like me, and, as a result, admitted that my world view was too small.  My journey has become a quest for
understanding beyond my on enculturation.

 

I am incredibly comfortable in my skin.  I love it while refusing to worship it.  So, with that being said, let me talk to
Christine.

 

Christine,

 

Your argument is an affirmation of my point.  I thank you for that.  What you have failed to consider is how you
serve as the embodiment of everything I have attempted to teach.  Yes, I said teach.  Why that word - because each of us has a
lesson to be shared.  My hope has been to
help you and others understand what it means to be me.  I conceded that my experience, as a black
man, is a unique experience.  It would be
hyperbole to suggest that every black man has experienced things the way I have.  We are individuals.  Each brings a set of issues that weigh heavy
in how the rest comes to bear.

 

You say I am a mess. 
I say you have failed to listen. 
Let me begin with my hair.  Your
comments are rooted in, once again, an assumption of your own privilege.  You base your claim on a thought regarding
legitimate culture.  In your mind my hair
is nasty and, as you put it, needs to be cut. 
You follow that up with a reminder of what happened to black men who
refused to be called “Toby”.  You want to
spank me for my rebellion.  Sorry dear,
my name Kunte Kente, and I refuse to bow to your conception of how I should
look or think.

 

What you have not considered, due to your lack of
understanding, is why I have locked my hair. 
We call them locs, not dreadlocks. 
Why? Because that label implies something to be dreaded. So, let me give
you a history lesson.  Take notes.  You may need them.

 

The first known example of locs date back to ancient
Egypt.  Mummified remains of ancient
Egyptians with locs have been recovered from archaeological sites.  Spiritualist of all faiths and backgrounds
incorporate them into their paths as a way to symbolize a disregard for
physical appearance and vanity.  In the
West, the Nazarite is known for locs. In the East, Yogis, Gyanis, and Tapasvis
of all sects are famous bearers of locs.

 

The Ashanti people and other related Akan groups of Ghana
reserved locs for their spiritual leaders or okomfo.  The warriors of the Massi nation of Kenya are
famous for their long red locs.  In
various cultures what are known as Fetish priest, sangomas, or shamans,
spiritual men and women often wore locs. In Benin the Yoruba priest of Olokun,
the Orisha of the deep ocean wear locs. 
The Himba people in the southeast Congo-Kinshasa, the Fang people of
Gabon, the Mende of Sierra Leone, and the Turkana people of Kenya all have hair
like me.

 

You also find it among Sadhus and Sadhvis Indian holy men
and women.  They consider it a religious
practice and an expression of their disregard for profane vanity as well as a
symbol of their spiritual understanding that physical appearance is
unimportant.  It is found within Tibetan Buddhism,
a few Sufi groups such as Qalandari and folks like me.

 

What you have failed to regard, due to a lack of understanding,
is the deep spiritual statement connected to my decision.  Your assertion that I cut them, albeit rooted
in a lack of understanding, confirms my contention about positions of
privilege.  You, and your black friends,
are asserting that black identity and the celebration of that rich heritage
must be stripped if one is to make it in this society rooted in white cultural
expressions.

 

What fuels your indifference? Is it the fact that a black
man is bold enough to question your authority? Is it the possibility that your
privilege stands in the way of others versus your view that they lack more due
to something they have failed to do? Why your drive to confirm your contention
by using black folks to fight that other black boy? Does their journey negate
my own?  Why the need to make me
wrong?  It’s a perspective rooted in my
own experience, but you are bent on minimizing the implications of those
assertions? Why? What drives your need to defeat those claims.

 

I’m not going to call you a racist.  I don’t know you well enough to do that. And,
although you have attacked my character and taken more time than necessary to
confirm your contention that I am a “mess”, I refuse to call you a racist.  That’s your own cross to bear.

 

What I am is a free black man.  Unlike others you may seek out to confirm
your thoughts, I’m free to write and think free from the potential consequences
that come with freedom.  I pay a price
for that, and that was the point I made about being a man with an agenda.  My agenda is to be a prophet who remains
free.  

 

Freedom means standing with the rejected.  I take on the image of those who you claim
suffer because of all those stereotypes you spit.   I have chosen to become the rejected for the
sake of sharing in their suffering.  I’ve
decided to let go of my privilege to confront their rejection.  I need for you to understand this, no one has
taken it away, I decided to remove myself from what could be mine to advocate
for those who look like me.

 

That’s what freedom looks like Christine.  Deal with it. 
As for those black friends you go to, tell them I’m proud of them for
their achievement.  With that being said,
I’ll place my own against anyone I meet. 
I take no pride in what I have achieved. 
I’m willing to sacrifice it all for my brothers and sisters who suffer
due to the way they are viewed.  That
means anyone poor, unemployed, underemployed and it means my standing for the
LGBT community.  I do so because that’s
what it means for me to walk by faith. 
It means picking up this cross for them. 
Even if it means I die.

 

As for you cutting my hair – read the Bible. That’s what got
a dude named Samson in trouble.  This is
a spiritual decision.  Deal with it.

Date: Sun, 3 Jun 2012 17:49:23 -0700
From: christinebbd at yahoo.com
To: joymicklewalker at gmail.com
CC: inc-list at rtpnet.org; inc-list at durhaminc.org
Subject: Re: [Durham INC] A perfect storm, Carl Kenney


Joy Mickle-Walker said, "Then come back with an educated assessment and not just you asking
your black friends what they think..."


... my black friends couldn't possibly have an educated assessment because it disagrees with your assessment. Got it!  
_______________________________________________
Durham INC Mailing List
list at durham-inc.org
http://www.durham-inc.org/list.html 		 	   		  
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://rtpnet.org/pipermail/inc-list/attachments/20120604/7c968f7b/attachment-0001.html>