Guns, Chains and Buttered Whips

I just picked up Sistah Souljah's No Disrespect. I am not even on page 1 yet. In her prolouge, she speaks of the reprecussions slavery still holds for many of us today. She questioned the lack of love Black people seem to have for our own people. This got me to thinking about the book Beloved. In the book, Paul D said numerous times that "it is dangerous for a slave to love". Many of us think that slavery had long ago ended. We have to change that thinking. We are still held slaves. We are held slaves to the thinking that we cannot teach our own children and that in order to recieve the best education, we must pay schools rooted in European teachings to accept our children. We are slaves to the idea that we cannot worship God without going to a building. We are slaves to the idea that a man cannot do anything for us unless his car is shiny new and he wears a tie to work everyday. We are slaves who teach our children (either consciously or subliminally) that athletes, actors and rappers are to be worshipped. We are slaves who beat our children harder when Ms. Hobbs across the street catches them than we do when they break one of the rules set in place to keep them out of harm. We are slaves who instill the thinking that black = bad in our children by whispering "don't act your color" in public to them. We are slaves to the idea that our natural state - whether it be our hair, skin or shape - is simply subpar. We are slaves who subscribe daily to the "Bullshit Times", teaching us how to reach the "American Dream". We are slaves who call each other "nigger", "boy", "girl", "bitch", "ho" and "muthafucka" so much that the white man doesn't even need to say it to us anymore. We do it ourselves. We are slaves who glorify those who sell death on the same street corners where children wait for the bus. We are slaves who listen to fools, whose ultimate dream is to have a "chain and whip". (Thanks to Common for that) We are slaves who are afraid to hold our male children too tight, fearful that we will turn them soft. We are slaves who teach our daughters that laying on their backs more than they take stands on their feet is ok as long as "you bring me home some grandchildren with some pretty hair and eyes". We are slaves who separate ourselves by outside appearances and de-value our beautiful African features. We are slaves who kill each other because of jealousy. We are slaves with masters that whip us with hours and hold us hostage with paychecks. We are slaves.

Paul D was right, it is dangerous for a slaves to love. Especially today. How can we love each other when we live like slaves who remain true only to our masters. How did we get to the point where we have allowed ourselves to be controlled by slips of paper with dead white men on them overlooking our every move?

In Baby Boy, Ving Rhames talked to Tyrese about guns and butter. Where he got those two words from, I'll never know. But his logical holds true. The slaves who idolize the American Dream, spew hatred towards each other, cannot see inner beauty, pass ignorance to our children and refuse to believe that they are restricted and in bondage are holding butter - or as I like to call it, chains. The ones who try to enlighten, who realize that in order to love we must first get rid of hate, the ones who value human life above all material, the ones who realize that cars and clothes only mean something to other fools who value those things - these are the ones holding guns, or whips.

The reason I chose the words chains and whips, besides the obvious slavery ties, is because this is what we are doing to ourselves. The chain people are holding themselves back through regression, refusing to break free, wrapping their minds so tight that nothing can get in and nothing can get out. The folks holding the whips are the one who are trying to beat the system, trying to open up wounds that we thought had been resolved in order to let them properly heal, the whip folks are the ones who hold a weaponery of knowledge. Guns, butter, whips, chains, however you look at it, we are slaves. Held hostage not only to a master, but to our own thoughts. Shit, En Vogue said it best - "Free your mind and the rest will follow". You cannot get your feet to go where your mind tells them not to. Let's change our way of thinking so that we can walk.