James Walker: Color? A rap on race is long overdue

I grew up in a country where equality was inked on parchment and generations have fought to ensure that justness remained in place long after the ink dried and the parchment aged. I grew up amidst the assassinations of peaceful leaders, the murders of peace activists, the chaos of violent riots sweeping across the country and the march for civil rights.

And I grew up in an era where the men and women in blue who swore an oath to protect and serve all citizens turned dogs loose on blacks and whites for seeking equality.

It was pretty depressing growing up and made to feel white people I talked to everyday and went to school and played with everyday looked down on me and thought I was less simply due to the color of my skin.

It left me and other blacks doubting the validity of the Constitution, the Bill of Rights and the American flag that flied so brightly after the Greatest Generation helped solidified America’s presence as a world power and was still basking in the glow decades later. And it was enough to make any black kid doubt his or her self-worth as they reached adulthood and set out to bring the bacon home.

But I also grew up with a generation of white men and women who walked, talked and sang of peace, love and harmony — and many who solidified that harmony by sitting crossed-legged in a circle and passing around a pipe of peace in unity. It was white men and women who burned the flag and demanded that America live up to her promises.

They were the ones who made me believe in my self-worth to America. They were the ones who reinforced my confidence that I belonged standing shoulder-toshoulder with them.

And despite racial tension, I grew up at a time when many men of all races sought peace with an embrace and adopted the phrase “brother,” which was used even when they were talking to men of other races. That is still true today. At the time, it was a phrase largely popularized by black men to show solidarity to each other during a turbulent time.

And out of that mix of hate and love during the ‘60s and ‘70s came a shared camaraderie for many.

But in 2018, if you are eavesdropping on Americans, the racial divide has come roaring back with words that spit out like acid, meant to scar and debilitate. Depending on who or what you are, if it’s not white this, then it’s black that — and when that same old clash runs out of steam, it is on to the Mexicans, and when they have been cursed and damned to no end, then it’s on to the illegal immigrants.

And when we’re not screaming and hollering about who and what is or is not an American, we make up tales of hate and blame other races for our own shortcomings.

Maybe it is time to bring back the peace pipe.

The 28 days celebrating Black History Month in America are about to come to an end.

I will be at Bernard Environmental Magnet School in New Haven on Wednesday with other guests to help them close out the month where kids for another year learned about the blacks of yesteryear.

But I wonder how much having a separate month to learn about blacks actually hurts and divides us as it keeps our histories separated when they should mesh. Black history is American history — the good, the bad and the ugly — and there shouldn’t be separate books or a month set aside to teach and acknowledge it.

I think it leaves little black kids subliminally thinking there is only one month out of 12 when they are relevant and it keeps little white kids feeling guilty for the sins of their fathers.

Carter G. Woodson began the month because blacks at the time only knew about their history of slavery and not of the achievements and contributions blacks had and were making to America. That has changed over the decades. Since 1976, every president has acknowledged February as Black History Month.

But it is the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., whose face and words represent most of the images or literature about black Americans’ struggle for equality and unity.

King was a man who believed in equality and unity for all people. He was shot dead for that belief. There is a holiday named after him for that belief. There is a statue of him on the National Mall in Washington for that belief. That is why I think Black History Month should be retooled into a month-long celebration of the different cultures that make up America — and use the time to have a rap on race. After all, other than saying hi and goodbye, many of us really don’t know a lot about one another other than what we see and read in the news.

I believe we would all be better served by such a change. Since I began writing columns, many people have contacted me to share their thoughts on race and express dismay this is still an issue. So I know, we are all pretty much on the same page; we just have to turn it.

But we don’t need a St. Bernard with a barrel of peace around its neck to lead us down from the mountain so there can be peace in the valley.

We just need to take a trip to the lost and found to find our way again. Because what has been lost can be found and what can be found can be saved.

I don’t know whatever happened to the peace, love and harmony that once defined my generation but I do know there are still peaceful leaders and a bevy of peace activists.

Color? A rap on race is overdue.