riding with michael thomas anderson.

As I ride with Michael Thomas Anderson, I think. Alot. About problems, but more importantly, the solutions. Recently, I've been thinking about black in higher education. Many people look at the number of black women and men in college and smile. We've made to the big leagues, we have access to education. Our predecessors fought for this right, sacrificed and struggled, faced indignities that we could only imagine for the simply right to be respected as a human being, and American citizen. Much love goes to the ones that came before us. As I look around however, I do not believe that this is what they had in mind. As with the characters in Requiem for a Dream, they never thought a little dope and a carefree nature could lead to a arm-stump action, jail, and a man named "Big Tim". Our ancestors could not have forseen this. I'm not talking about the degredation of our women, or the blood-lust that has manifest for the love of material goods. Not the rims, dope boys, 13 year old mommas, glorification of everything negative, the fall of the black family, dead beat daddies, 50 Cent, video-vixens( or their "Confessions"), incarceration rates, baby gangsters, STD rates, modern day minstrels, or Katrina. They knew that the struggle wasn't over for us. What I do not think they could ever fathom is that we, our generation would be unable to combat. Maybe not unable, but most certainly unwilling. Those in the best position to make drastic positive changes, those bright and shiny college student and graduates degreed-up from head to toe, black, lets not forget, seem not to care. Oh, they care enough to go to meeting, talk about the "plight of our people", write some papers, stunt for some peers to be the "intelligent" one. Might even do an intership for a non-profit. And thats where it stops. Somewhere between middle school and college graduation, that essential part of humans that allows them to see themselves as simply a part of a larger community, has been weeded out of them. Selfishness becomes the theme of the rest of their lives. Dress up to be as less threatening as possible so hopefully (please lord, I sho do need this job!) some white person won't be to scared to give them a job. Then its keep your head low, and work until you die. In between, you may raise some kids, look out for your wife or husband, and go to church. Meanwhile, dopefriends nod off on busses, little girls become little mommas, lil' Tavon gets a life bid, inner city neighborhoods die. These are our supposed saviors. I'm thinking that now all that "booklearnin'" gets in the way. There needs to be balance so the black, young and talented never forget. That one bad weekend, and one bad decision, and its you nodding off on the bus, chasing that white horse. Or thats your future daughter going to get WIC. So if you help them, in a way, your helping yourself. And more important, something bigger than yourself.