All things are possible

Wednesday, May 1, 1996

On one of those $5 posters they sell around North Campus, I saw
a little African American boy sitting on a basketball in a gym. He
was staring off into the air. Only the basketball hoop behind him
told you he was in a gym. Bordering this picture were the words,
"All Things Are Possible." Immediately, I became just a little
disturbed.

All things are possible? Or some things? Like being the next
Magic, or Jordan, or Hardaway? All things are possible? Or were
they talking about the things that African American males are
generally expected to excel in … like athletics?

Maybe I should make a poster of my own. It would show a little
black boy geared up in Karl Kani. He would be sitting next to a
turntable in a studio. And surrounding this picture would be the
words, "All Things Are Possible." Or maybe it would show him with a
mike in his hand practicing a comedy routine. Or maybe it would
show him jumping over a hurdle. Or something like that. Something
that has to do with entertainment or athletics, because aren’t
those the things that we’re talking about? Aren’t those the things
referred to in the word "all"?

When I see that poster say "All Things Are Possible," why don’t
I see that young boy next to a chalkboard with chemistry formulas
written on it? Or next to the space shuttle? Or anywhere else
besides a basketball court? The answer lies in the expectations
America has for young African American males.

When I contemplate the state of African American males in the
United States, I feel like we’re in trouble. Although the Million
Man March did a lot to dispel the notion that African American
males lack the solidarity needed to change this backward system, I
still feel weird.

Maybe it’s because the leading cause of death of African
American males between the ages of 18 and 25 is homicide. Perhaps
it’s because my fellow brothers tend to stare me down in public.
Maybe it’s because many brothers I know aren’t in college, and if
they are, they’re fourth-year students at El Camino. Perhaps it’s
because there are more black males in prison than in college.

And when I ask the question why, my mind envisions that pathetic
poster. Our young men, often encapsulated in a violent society
where death is common and survival is essential, see a high
vertical leap or an ability to make everybody laugh as their only
ticket to wealth and success. If not that, crime and illegal
activity are sometimes chosen as the paths to success. And I feel
for them. Because, even if that poster says "All Things Are
Possible," they know that those things don’t include corporate
America, entrepreneurship, medicine and law.

Even I am guilty of having lessened expectations for my
brothers. How many times have I seen a young African American male
in a Lexus or BMW and wondered if he was dealing drugs? Do I wonder
the same thing if I see a young white or Asian male in the same
type of car? No. And that’s my point. The influence of the media
has affected every segment of the American population. And it has
fostered beliefs about the capabilities of certain segments of our
population.

The media tells us that the things it is possible for African
American males to be are murderers, rapists and robbers. Yes, it’s
possible for us to act like clowns on television and provide
comedic relief for the rest of our population. It’s possible for us
to catch footballs and dunk basketballs.

But if all things are possible, why is it so hard to find us
coaching the same sports we excel in? If all things are possible,
why aren’t we seen behind the scenes directing and producing? Why
aren’t there any black shakers and movers in the movie industry? To
get his movie on Malcolm X financed, Spike Lee had to go to Oprah
Winfrey and other black entertainers for support. His movie studio
told him "it wasn’t possible for them to allocate that kind of
money." That kind of money being an extra $6 million or so. Yet
when no-actin’ Kevin Costner needs close to $200 million to finance
his wack movie, the money is there.

Some things never change. As a black man, I am force-fed
ideology that tells me discrimination is close to non-existent, and
that race no longer matters. Well, I’m here to let you know that
discrimination is still rampant, and race still matters. If race
didn’t matter, we wouldn’t be looking at this stupid three strikes
law that’s sending folks to prison for 25 years to life on their
third offense.

Someone said, "It seems to me the only ones who are worried
about three strikes are those who already have two strikes against
them." That is probably true. But when it is documented that the
legal system is harder on African Americans, and it is proven that
blacks are sent to prison at a higher rate than whites ­ even
though their arrests rates are largely the same ­ I have a
problem.

My problem is that on one hand, our males hear the phrase, "All
Things Are Possible." But when black men are marginalized and
discarded by white America, leading them to a life a crime, America
is in a rush to spend our tax dollars keeping them locked up
forever.

I know one man who has a family, and because of the three
strikes law, he’s in prison for at least 25 years for using a
stolen credit card. Yes, he was wrong. But if all things are
possible, why can’t we include rehabilitation or concern under that
umbrella? Why can’t we as a nation include measures that address
the problems that are eating away at African-American communities?
Instead, affirmative action is snatched away. Now we’re telling
young black men it’s not possible for you to have an equal chance
as whites to receive a higher education.

Every time I hear that another young black man has died from
violence, I hurt on the inside. Every time a precious life is taken
away, I want to run and tell all my brothers that "All Things Are
Possible." That they don’t have to live the way they’re living. But
who am I to tell them anything? I’m a blessed young man who has
both parents in the home. I was raised in a strict Christian
household by two parents with graduate school degrees. I was raised
by a family who made "those things" possible for me. They exposed
me to opportunities and experiences many other black males don’t
have.

So, what about them? What about those who don’t have any hope,
and aren’t that good in basketball? What about those who can’t sing
R&B or rap? Who am I to tell them they can do anything they put
their mind to when America sees them as bodies whose places are
behind bars? Who am I to tell them the world is theirs when you can
hardly find a black chief executive officer of a Fortune 500
company? It’s my job, but is it only mine?

Maybe it’s time that America wakes up from her apathetic slumber
and helps her own people maximize their potential instead of
rushing to condemn and marginalize them. If being black was seen as
being a good thing, a lot of problems African Americans face would
be removed. You think that Michael Jackson would look like that if
he thought there was intrinsic value in being black? I don’t think
so.

So after all this, now what? I know that "All Things Are
Possible" because for all those who don’t make it, many do. I know
we can’t depend on America or anyone else to care about black
folks. So those of us here at UCLA who are determined to succeed
must go back to our communities and take the good news to them.
"All Things Are Possible." But that young man in the picture needs
to put that basketball down and pick up a book. We at UCLA have to
care. We don’t have a choice. Extinction is our only other option.
Peace.

Howard is a fourth-year anthropology student. His column appears
on alternate Thursdays.