Ujima: Collective Work and Responsibility
I want to be very clear as I reflect on what collective work and responsibility looks like in the Black community. There has always been evidence of collective work within our communities. I want to be very clear that not one piece of me is invested in the notion that we do not collectively want to see each other thrive and be well. We as Black people are sadly connected through a history of trauma in this country but we are also connected through a history of perseverance. We’ve worked hard, collectively, with one another in order to create the changes that we could control. People who look like us, sound like us, and who are attached to us spiritually have risked their lives and the lives of their families because of their belief in our freedom to exist and live in this world. I want to be very clear that I do not believe we as a people are “crabs in a barrel”. We are stolen people who fought consistently for survival, fought consistently to be seen as human, and fought consistently for our own freedom. I will not allow myself to be told differently by anyone.
This year, I’ve avoided speaking too much about the concept of anti-Blackness here in America. I have avoided many topics due to the feeling of being burnt out from watching and hearing about another Black person brutally murdered by police. I’ve been burnt out and tired from seeing the statistics of how many Black people are forced into the prison pipeline and are detached from their families. I am burnt out and tired of speaking to white people about this topic. I am tired of the intellectualizing that comes with these topics and how the experiences of Black people have become think pieces and artwork. I was burnt out from watching Breana Taylor’s death being turned into memes and artists making songs to “bring awareness”. I was tired of the theatrics. I was burnt out from being in a pandemic that significantly impacts the community I serve and love. A community that does not have access to healthcare in the same way those folks on the Upper East Side do. I stayed away from these conversations this year out of self-preservation. For the first time since sophomore year of college, I could no longer jump into the pit of racial discourse with people who were not there to understand, empathize, nor listen. I had very little energy.
I know I am not the only one who has been feeling this way. Feeling burnt out to the point where any small inconvenience or mishap is magnified and intolerable. There were many days when I felt alone this year but my spirit kept reminding me that I was not alone in these experiences. Many times, I have felt hopeless and could not imagine a world without White people in government positions, intentionally creating laws to oppress Black people. This country will kill your spirit if you let it. Thus, we cannot try to do this on our own or by ourselves. Our progress will not come from one cis gender straight Black man leading us to the promise land. It will have to come from all intersections of our community. It will have to come from a collective effort to see one another. In order to see one another, those with privilege in our community, including myself, must work diligently to unpack harmful and dangerous ideologies. We must dismantle the misogynistic patriarchal capitalistic homophobic transphobic doctrine that we as a community internalized. That is the only way we can create true collective work.
It is my responsibility as a cis straight Black man to unpack and dismantle all the harmful and hurtful things I have been taught. I must extract what I have chosen to keep in efforts to align myself closer with white supremacy and capitalism, so I can have the ability to be in community with others sharing a common goal of freedom while understanding freedom looks different for everyone and there is no monolithic definition to freedom for us as Black people. In order for me to be in community with other Black people who experience Blackness differently, I must also be prepared to sit with myself and point out the parts of me that need to change. I have to learn from reading the experiences of others who came before me. I am continuously challenging myself in order to be open to collective work for our people. I have to be willing to take a step back and know when to follow instead of lead if I truly want to participate in community and collective work. Collective work cannot happen if I come to the space with ego and pride. Ego and pride will only recreate the cycle of power dynamics that have been historically harmful for those who are not cis straight Black men. Instead, I have learned to approach spaces like my mentor: with humility.
I believe in our community and I believe that we can create change within our community by rejecting the teachings of white supremacy, capitalism, homophobia, transphobia, and ableism. The optimist in me believes that we have the ability to chisel away at what separates us through each generation. I genuinely do not have the answers nor do I believe that I am the one that is the source of change individually. Bell Hooks speaks about Black men searching for love within ourselves and humanizing ourselves. I agree with her and her perspective on bringing cis straight men back to community. There is a need for me as a Black man to see everyone else’s struggle as my struggle as well. It is important for me to be in sync with the struggles of those around me so I can listen to and collectively work with them toward their liberation even if the work looks like me getting out of their way and taking a seat. The collective work is possible and vital to our survival as a people: spiritually, culturally, and physically.