I have to keep writing or I will go insane. I really don't know what to say though because sometimes I don't even know who I am writing this for. Should I go on and on about why my family does The Empowerment Experiment? Should I give you more updates on how much bigger EE is than the last time we talked and how much more media attention its gained? I guess I should do that. After all, The Empowerment Experiment is about preaching - through creative activity and media - the necessity and power of self-help economics. So I'd better keep preaching. And of course I need to present media updates... otherwise most of you would not follow the project.
That's why I'm a little bewildered today. EE is supposed to be, was designed to be, is positioned to be, a social service initiative and an academic experiment. It is starting to feel like a well-attended, bumpin' party with awesome food, music and drinks, but no one really knows the host or what the hell they're celebrating.
The point is that you all should be paying attention to this regardless of the media's coverage and in spite of it's lack of coverage. You should be the lifeblood of EE, not BET or The Chicago Tribune. I am finding myself measuring the success of this project by website hits and media inquiries. I want to hear from you. I want to know that you care about this. I want to feel your passion about energizing our collective sense of worth, and about what you are willing do to activate and demonstrate that passion. I want to discover your potential - not Brian Williams' or Anderson Cooper's or even Oprah Winfrey's - to make a difference in our community's economic future and sociological outlook. I live, EE lives, through your undying hope in the possibility of a new reality for us... one where we don't feel broken, beat up, angry and ashamed when we walk or drive through a Black neighborhood in America. I crave your, YOUR sincere belief that our businesses and talents will be respected, valued and sought after in this country, and that OUR people will soon represent the American Dream through high quality standards of living.
This is why we are here. But you don't see that. And if you do, I don't feel it.
I am wholly beholden to the media. That's pathetic. If they leave me, EE is nothing.
But that's just me. And fortunately, I am not EE.
I don't think you got that. Yep, you heard me right. I am not EE.
You are The Empowerment Experiment. You are EE. Black people. Black culture. America's promise to Black people. America's pledge to the world. All that's EE.
But for now, EE still needs me. The Empowerment Experiment needs me to stay strong and smile pretty... to buy Black and be proud. I gotta be a smart, tough soldier. Because soldiers do their duty. Soldiers represent their nation.
EE. EE. The EE nation. That's you AND me.
So I will wait. I'll keep waiting for the EE nation to stand up with me and show me something worth defending, fuel the fight worth fighting. I want to fight for a cause and a culture, not headlines and press inquiries.
Will you be there? Will you stand up with me even after the media has moved on? Will you support Black business and talent, and honor and love your people because it's righteous and makes sense - and not because some celebrity or media-magnet family tells you to? Will you refute, will all your heart, mind and money, the notion that your people are destined to be at the bottom of the socioeconomic totem pole forever? Will you work and sacrifice so that our people can sincerely, finally, and with good reason, feel included in the American mainstream? Will you show our children that, somewhere in this world, even if it is just on your block, people who look like them are not always just the workers and consumers whose money and labor strengthens other communities and fulfills everyone else's dreams... but that many of those people who look like them are successful, prominent professionals, tradespeople, and entrepreneurs? Will you also prove to them that those who are don't have to be exceptions - that soon, if we come together, they can become a standard? Will you teach them and anyone else who wants to listen that EE, that the goal of more successful Black-owned businesses and professionals being proudly supported by Blacks, and blindly, yet steadily supported by all people, is the goal that all of America should want and the story that this country should want to tell the world about the people it once enslaved?
Will you do that for me? Oh, I'm sorry. Not me. No,no, no. Not me.
Will you do that for EE?
Now if you did... that would be something worth partying about.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
It's official...if the AP and MSNBC say you have a movement, then I guess you do!
see the story here: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30707142/
I didn't know this was a movement!
and we are not radical! proactive and progressive - but not radical!
My French Connection
I must first apologize for being away for so long. Everyday I think about all of you, thank God for you, miss you and promise myself that I’m gonna talk to you the next day. Been too many days of that. Please know that I have been really busy living life in the EE Zone. I’ve been maintaining my pledge to find, support and uplift quality Black businesses. I’ve been trying to uphold my pledge to inspire my community to use the love and pride we have to finally do something about our problems.
Much easier written than done! Trust me folks, that’s a lot of work. And never forget that I have a family to take care of …I am still Mommy, Wifey, Head of Household, Auntie and Daughter of a sick woman.
But since we had this new media push (see next post), I am expected to take on this new role. Teacher. Yes teacher. Here’s what happened between the French journalist with the Black husband (she had to make sure she advised me of that as she admitted she thought my family’s project is racist.) and me.
A large French cable network came to Chicago to do a documentary on the city. They wanted to focus on some of the city’s problematic stereotypes, like political corruption and racial segregation. They had heard about EE and asked could they spend an hour with me shopping and to do an interview. I’ve done a few of these now, and I figured the French are progressive enough to understand what we are doing, cover us fairly, and help us generate some exposure overseas.
During our time together, she asked the question every White journalist asks, “Isn’t this racist?” I’m OK with answering the question. What bothers me is when they ask it. (more on that later) They always start off the interview with “How did you come up with this?” … “Why are you doing this?”… “What do you hope to accomplish?” … “How is it going so far?” So I answer all those questions. You all know what I say, because you understand why I do this. But just in case you need a refresher, here’s what I say. Here’s what I feel. Here’s what in our hearts.
Here are the ABCs of EE:
How did you come up with this?
The concept of Buying Black is not new. We did not "come up" with this. We decided to do create The Empowerment Experiment because, like millions of other middle-class Black people in America, we wanted to do something about the problems disproportionately impacting our kids and neighborhoods. We want to give back. And although we are not millionaires, celebrities, or politicians, we can do something with what we do have. We can invest the money we earn and spend everyday into those communities we care about, go to bed crying about. We came up with a year-long commitment because we wanted to see whether prolonged, targeted investment could actually make a difference. We made the pledge public because we hoped that, through this journey, we could also dispel some of the negative stereotypes about Black business. We could finally prove, scientifically, that the talent, services and products coming from Black Americans are just as good as anyone else’s. We are sick of the asymmetry between Black talent and resources and what’s actually represented and reinvested in the Black community.
Why are you doing this?
We do this because we care about what’s going on in Gary, Benton Harbor, Detroit and the West Side of Chicago. These communities are all Black. We care about the kids there. We are tired of crying every night because we heard of another kid getting shot in those neighborhoods because those kids don’t have role models, their parents are unemployed, and their communities are dirty and ravaged by gangs, drugs and crime. I care about that. I’m tired of crying about that, shaking my head, and waking up and living my great life in Oak Park, having my great education and my great job Downtown, and driving right over and around all those places where Black kids are suffering from lack of good schools, parks, clean streets, because their town does not have the tax-base that mine has. I could have just kept living my life. I decided to act. I decided to take a stand and say that this... THIS IS NOT the end of the road for my people in America. I do this because I believe that if our community was economically empowered, if our people started believing in and investing in our own talent and businesses, most of other problems would just dissolve away.
What do you hope to accomplish?
I hope that our experiment puts the issues facing Black businesses and our communities back into the national dialogue. I hope that we can raise awareness about the disparities in those markets and industries where Black people represent such a significant portion of the consumer base, but have no business owners. I want to show people how important it is for Black American children to feel like someone who looks like them has more choices in America than being a ball player, rapper or a gangbanger. They need to see more success stories in their own community from the business and professional sectors. I do this because right now, for the average Black kid in America it is absolutely inconceivable that a successful grocery store, drug store, hotel or restaurant could be owned by a Black person… or that someone Black could produce and distribute toys, beds, software or cheese… or that a Black person can be successful just by being an entrepreneur. And finally, I hope that other Black middle class families, with the time and wherewithal to make some small changes and sacrifices, would consider making the effort to find and support Black business.
How is it going so far?
It feels great living like this. It feels wonderful to know that I am serving my community by doing something as simple as buying bananas. But it is a huge sacrifice because there are not enough Black-owned businesses. There should be more. Most of the businesses in the Black communities I want to invest my money in are not Black-owned.
So after all that… after I just talked about the kids I am trying to help, the communities suffering with no hope in sight, the Americans who live in second- and third-world conditions that no one seems to care about… after all that, she has the nerve to ask me, “Isn’t this racism?”
As I said before, I’m OK with the question. Most interviewers ask it. I accept the question because I assume the interviewer has not been exposed to places like Gary, has never heard the term ‘buy Black’ and only focuses on the snippets and sound bites that portray me as an advocate of buying based on race - and that’s it. I usually don’t give credence to the idiotic question and I just restate what my intentions and hopes are:
I want to promote entrepreneurship in the Black community. I want more role models for Black kids in underserved communities to come from the business world. I want more Americans, of all races, to become aware of and have more access to the wonderful talent and businesses coming out of the Black community.
This time, I was upset when the racism question popped up. This woman had spent two whole hours with me, had heard the ABCs of EE, and was still thinking me a kooky racist.
She needed to be educated. And I needed to be her teacher. She could not believe that there could be neighborhoods that were totally Black, but overwhelmed by non-Black businesses. She was baffled to learn that there was only one Black-owned grocery store in the entire great state of Illinois. She could not understand.
So we went for a drive through the West Side. As we drove, class was in session. No more ABCs. She needed EE 301. Take notes pupils:
One.
As a race, Black people suffer disproportionately in every measure of social and economic progress - highest incarceration rates, highest dropout rates, highest unemployment rates, highest rates of gang, drug, and AIDS penetration. EE has never said and will never say that those horrible facts are racist or due to racism. It would be very easy to do that. Instead of crying racism, we cry for self-help economics.
Two.
As painful as it may be for some to accept and admit, self-help economics is a practice of economic empowerment where consumers of a certain group try to support and invest in businesses from the same group. We hope that instead of crying racism, waiting for a hand-out, or ignoring and accepting the status quo, we can rally people to start investing in long-term solutions that can mitigate the causes and effects of the problems affecting our race. Self-help economics enhances the collective self-esteem, provides more role models... while creating jobs, promoting entrepreneurship, and converting tax-burdens into tax-payers.
Three.
Our race is suffering and we cannot depend on the government or lofty statements and ideals like “There is no Black America. There is no White America. There is only the United States of America.” to fix that. Those pronouncements and virtues need to be backed up with action and answers. We owe the student who has to join a gang to stay alive, or sell drugs to keep his lights on much more than that. We say that maybe one answer lies in the consumers and businesses allocating their resources and talent to fix the problems our race faces - since many of those problems stem from black neighborhoods being economically deprived.
Is it ok for the problems to be associated with this race, but not the solutions?
Just as the problems and crises that disproportionately impact our race and have to do with our history, our environment, and our culture, maybe some of the solutions have do with our race not coming together enough to solve them.
We do not advocate NOT shopping at a business owned by a White person or an Asian person because you do not like people of other races. We do advocate looking for and shopping at a business that it is owned by a Black person because it might lead to increasing wealth in communities that are economically deprived and increasing the chances of more Black role models for at-risk youth. Our whole focus is the economically deprived communities where Black kids are killing each other and are more likely to go to jail than college. Our whole focus is finally doing something about the children who have no role models besides gangsters, rappers, and ball players.
I wish all I had to do was shop in those underserved communities to help the kids who live in them. That doesn’t work because the Asian, White, Hispanic, and Middle-Eastern business owners there, who represent the majority of the businesses in those underserved communities, take the money out and back to their own neighborhoods. And because most of the businesses in the Black community are not owned by Black people, for every dollar earned and spent in the Black community, five dollars leave. We can call that racism, but we don’t. Instead, we just want to find a strategic and creative way to keep some of that money there so it can start working against the social crises killing our families.
After she rode with me through the West Side, and I showed her how these good people were being neglected and rejected, and were made to feel that even in their own neighborhoods (much less anywhere else in America) they were not good enough to own the businesses that could drive and provide the vitality the community so desperately needed. I looked at her and said, “What can I do?” She said, “I understand now.”
I hope so. Because what we do is no more racist than buying American, or LGBTs buying from gay business owners to support them, or women seeking women-owned businesses.
This French woman got it in under three hours. How long will it take some of you?
Much easier written than done! Trust me folks, that’s a lot of work. And never forget that I have a family to take care of …I am still Mommy, Wifey, Head of Household, Auntie and Daughter of a sick woman.
But since we had this new media push (see next post), I am expected to take on this new role. Teacher. Yes teacher. Here’s what happened between the French journalist with the Black husband (she had to make sure she advised me of that as she admitted she thought my family’s project is racist.) and me.
A large French cable network came to Chicago to do a documentary on the city. They wanted to focus on some of the city’s problematic stereotypes, like political corruption and racial segregation. They had heard about EE and asked could they spend an hour with me shopping and to do an interview. I’ve done a few of these now, and I figured the French are progressive enough to understand what we are doing, cover us fairly, and help us generate some exposure overseas.
During our time together, she asked the question every White journalist asks, “Isn’t this racist?” I’m OK with answering the question. What bothers me is when they ask it. (more on that later) They always start off the interview with “How did you come up with this?” … “Why are you doing this?”… “What do you hope to accomplish?” … “How is it going so far?” So I answer all those questions. You all know what I say, because you understand why I do this. But just in case you need a refresher, here’s what I say. Here’s what I feel. Here’s what in our hearts.
Here are the ABCs of EE:
How did you come up with this?
The concept of Buying Black is not new. We did not "come up" with this. We decided to do create The Empowerment Experiment because, like millions of other middle-class Black people in America, we wanted to do something about the problems disproportionately impacting our kids and neighborhoods. We want to give back. And although we are not millionaires, celebrities, or politicians, we can do something with what we do have. We can invest the money we earn and spend everyday into those communities we care about, go to bed crying about. We came up with a year-long commitment because we wanted to see whether prolonged, targeted investment could actually make a difference. We made the pledge public because we hoped that, through this journey, we could also dispel some of the negative stereotypes about Black business. We could finally prove, scientifically, that the talent, services and products coming from Black Americans are just as good as anyone else’s. We are sick of the asymmetry between Black talent and resources and what’s actually represented and reinvested in the Black community.
Why are you doing this?
We do this because we care about what’s going on in Gary, Benton Harbor, Detroit and the West Side of Chicago. These communities are all Black. We care about the kids there. We are tired of crying every night because we heard of another kid getting shot in those neighborhoods because those kids don’t have role models, their parents are unemployed, and their communities are dirty and ravaged by gangs, drugs and crime. I care about that. I’m tired of crying about that, shaking my head, and waking up and living my great life in Oak Park, having my great education and my great job Downtown, and driving right over and around all those places where Black kids are suffering from lack of good schools, parks, clean streets, because their town does not have the tax-base that mine has. I could have just kept living my life. I decided to act. I decided to take a stand and say that this... THIS IS NOT the end of the road for my people in America. I do this because I believe that if our community was economically empowered, if our people started believing in and investing in our own talent and businesses, most of other problems would just dissolve away.
What do you hope to accomplish?
I hope that our experiment puts the issues facing Black businesses and our communities back into the national dialogue. I hope that we can raise awareness about the disparities in those markets and industries where Black people represent such a significant portion of the consumer base, but have no business owners. I want to show people how important it is for Black American children to feel like someone who looks like them has more choices in America than being a ball player, rapper or a gangbanger. They need to see more success stories in their own community from the business and professional sectors. I do this because right now, for the average Black kid in America it is absolutely inconceivable that a successful grocery store, drug store, hotel or restaurant could be owned by a Black person… or that someone Black could produce and distribute toys, beds, software or cheese… or that a Black person can be successful just by being an entrepreneur. And finally, I hope that other Black middle class families, with the time and wherewithal to make some small changes and sacrifices, would consider making the effort to find and support Black business.
How is it going so far?
It feels great living like this. It feels wonderful to know that I am serving my community by doing something as simple as buying bananas. But it is a huge sacrifice because there are not enough Black-owned businesses. There should be more. Most of the businesses in the Black communities I want to invest my money in are not Black-owned.
So after all that… after I just talked about the kids I am trying to help, the communities suffering with no hope in sight, the Americans who live in second- and third-world conditions that no one seems to care about… after all that, she has the nerve to ask me, “Isn’t this racism?”
As I said before, I’m OK with the question. Most interviewers ask it. I accept the question because I assume the interviewer has not been exposed to places like Gary, has never heard the term ‘buy Black’ and only focuses on the snippets and sound bites that portray me as an advocate of buying based on race - and that’s it. I usually don’t give credence to the idiotic question and I just restate what my intentions and hopes are:
I want to promote entrepreneurship in the Black community. I want more role models for Black kids in underserved communities to come from the business world. I want more Americans, of all races, to become aware of and have more access to the wonderful talent and businesses coming out of the Black community.
This time, I was upset when the racism question popped up. This woman had spent two whole hours with me, had heard the ABCs of EE, and was still thinking me a kooky racist.
She needed to be educated. And I needed to be her teacher. She could not believe that there could be neighborhoods that were totally Black, but overwhelmed by non-Black businesses. She was baffled to learn that there was only one Black-owned grocery store in the entire great state of Illinois. She could not understand.
So we went for a drive through the West Side. As we drove, class was in session. No more ABCs. She needed EE 301. Take notes pupils:
One.
As a race, Black people suffer disproportionately in every measure of social and economic progress - highest incarceration rates, highest dropout rates, highest unemployment rates, highest rates of gang, drug, and AIDS penetration. EE has never said and will never say that those horrible facts are racist or due to racism. It would be very easy to do that. Instead of crying racism, we cry for self-help economics.
Two.
As painful as it may be for some to accept and admit, self-help economics is a practice of economic empowerment where consumers of a certain group try to support and invest in businesses from the same group. We hope that instead of crying racism, waiting for a hand-out, or ignoring and accepting the status quo, we can rally people to start investing in long-term solutions that can mitigate the causes and effects of the problems affecting our race. Self-help economics enhances the collective self-esteem, provides more role models... while creating jobs, promoting entrepreneurship, and converting tax-burdens into tax-payers.
Three.
Our race is suffering and we cannot depend on the government or lofty statements and ideals like “There is no Black America. There is no White America. There is only the United States of America.” to fix that. Those pronouncements and virtues need to be backed up with action and answers. We owe the student who has to join a gang to stay alive, or sell drugs to keep his lights on much more than that. We say that maybe one answer lies in the consumers and businesses allocating their resources and talent to fix the problems our race faces - since many of those problems stem from black neighborhoods being economically deprived.
Is it ok for the problems to be associated with this race, but not the solutions?
Just as the problems and crises that disproportionately impact our race and have to do with our history, our environment, and our culture, maybe some of the solutions have do with our race not coming together enough to solve them.
We do not advocate NOT shopping at a business owned by a White person or an Asian person because you do not like people of other races. We do advocate looking for and shopping at a business that it is owned by a Black person because it might lead to increasing wealth in communities that are economically deprived and increasing the chances of more Black role models for at-risk youth. Our whole focus is the economically deprived communities where Black kids are killing each other and are more likely to go to jail than college. Our whole focus is finally doing something about the children who have no role models besides gangsters, rappers, and ball players.
I wish all I had to do was shop in those underserved communities to help the kids who live in them. That doesn’t work because the Asian, White, Hispanic, and Middle-Eastern business owners there, who represent the majority of the businesses in those underserved communities, take the money out and back to their own neighborhoods. And because most of the businesses in the Black community are not owned by Black people, for every dollar earned and spent in the Black community, five dollars leave. We can call that racism, but we don’t. Instead, we just want to find a strategic and creative way to keep some of that money there so it can start working against the social crises killing our families.
After she rode with me through the West Side, and I showed her how these good people were being neglected and rejected, and were made to feel that even in their own neighborhoods (much less anywhere else in America) they were not good enough to own the businesses that could drive and provide the vitality the community so desperately needed. I looked at her and said, “What can I do?” She said, “I understand now.”
I hope so. Because what we do is no more racist than buying American, or LGBTs buying from gay business owners to support them, or women seeking women-owned businesses.
This French woman got it in under three hours. How long will it take some of you?
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Luisa's daughter came home to Atlanta.
In any given year, we spend most of our 'vacation' time with family. Unfortunately, most of our family is far away... in Washington, DC, Detroit, and Atlanta. Fortunately, for The Empowerment Experiment, most of our family is in Washington, DC, Detroit, and Atlanta - three of the most powerful Black business centers in America. What a coincidence! The year we dedicate to buying Black and trying to elevate the issues facing Black business; the economic, corporate, and commercial disparities we accept as a community; the stereotypes and systems that keep all that going... the year we commit to creating an honest and empowering dialogue between ourselves, the struggling and the successful, the rich and the poor, the hoodie and the suburbanite... that's the year my mother decides to beat pancreatic cancer.
She and my Papa live in Austell, a suburb of Atlanta. Everything I am or ever will be springs from her wisdom, guidance, courage and indominatable character and dignity. All those degrees don't mean a damn thang! I am Luisa's daughter. That's who I am. That's where EE comes from. Luisa, my mother, was supposed to die many times last year. She hangs on for us. She hangs on for EE. She knows we need her. And this is her dream too.
So as you can imagine, this year, the year of EE, I am spending a lot more time in Atlanta. It's my second home. And that means it's EE's second home.
My trips to Atlanta are very emotional now. Mima is frail. It saddens me. Mima is still here. That makes me happy and grateful. But now the trips are even more emotional because I've been talking to Atlanta about EE. I've been on the radio there, done some interviews, and met hundreds. EE hosted events at two Black-owned wine shoppes. People from all over the city came, just to meet me, just to talk about EE. All they know is that I am a woman who has pledged to support Black businesses. That's all. But you know what? For some folks, those who are starving for change, who are suffocated by the status quo, who are stifled and stranded by the hopelessness they fear is infinite... those folks think that anyone who would make that kind of commitment must be a superstar.
Who is this hero? Who is this brave soldier who would dare make small efforts to find and support quality Black businesses and then go out of her way to promote them? Is she a politician, a radical? Who is this heaven-sent champion spending her time, money, heart and mind on trying to prove and tell anyone who would listen that it is beautiful to buy Black? Who is paying her? Why would she do this? "Will you come back to Atlanta and run for Mayor or Governor of Georgia?" asked Frank of the famous "Frank and Wanda Morning Show."
They flooded our events contemplating these questions. They stood in line and on tippy-toes just to hear me speak or shake my hand or hug my neck. One man was ready to fight another man just for thinking he could disagree with the words coming out of my mouth. "We love you." "We got your back." "Thank you." "Thank you for doing this." "Thank you for standing up." Can you help me?" Could you talk to my son?" "Will you speak at my church?" "Keep going sister. We will help you." "Thank you."
Thank you.
Who me?
What are you thanking me for? I'm just visiting my Mima! I'm just buying bananas and coffee. I'm just going out to eat. I'm just getting my nails done! I'm just talking about how proud I am to be Black and be able to support the wonderful talent coming out of my community. What the hell are you standing in line to talk to me for?!! I'm no hero.
Me?
Look, I'm just like all of you. I am a mother who worries about her babies, looking for more chances and ways to protect and love them. I am a wifey who takes good care of her husband, is proud when I look good for him, and lives for his smiles and kisses. I am a daughter who strives to represent all the strength, principles and wisdom my parents instilled in me. That's all I am.
I'm you. Just as you are me.
I went to Atlanta to see Mima. Before I left we had started our first EE affiliate chapter - The Empowerment Experiment of Atlanta. I went to sip on some fine African wines and I left with a movement at my back.
But I aint nobody special. You may feel that way. That's only because I got you thinking about a new kind of future for us. That's what's special. That's what's powerful. Those possibilities, that chance to taste the apple-pie, picket-fence dreams that so many Americans take for granted. That's the feel-good stuff that has your eyes welling...that new quality of life for a people that has suffered so much and given so much to America. And in return we ask for pies and fences. Pies and fences. PIES AND FENCES!!
So think about that. Not me. I'm just Luisa's daughter. Luisa. The Cuban immigrant who, regardless of her virtually white-skin, never abandoned, diminished, or negated her Blackness, her Africanness. The mother of three, who gave up everything she had, including the wedding ring she refuses to replace, so her family can have a better life in the land of opportunity. The laborer whose vacations were defined by her children's and grandchildren's weddings and graduations... who managed to send all of her children from the gang-infested streets of Liberty City to college and their individual success stories. That's me. I'm her daughter. That's all I ever will or ever want to be.
So think about the pies and fences. Think about all the Luisas who fight for us.
And don't think about me. I'm just Luisa's daughter.
Think about us. Think about what we all can do together.
Then who will the real hero be?
She and my Papa live in Austell, a suburb of Atlanta. Everything I am or ever will be springs from her wisdom, guidance, courage and indominatable character and dignity. All those degrees don't mean a damn thang! I am Luisa's daughter. That's who I am. That's where EE comes from. Luisa, my mother, was supposed to die many times last year. She hangs on for us. She hangs on for EE. She knows we need her. And this is her dream too.
So as you can imagine, this year, the year of EE, I am spending a lot more time in Atlanta. It's my second home. And that means it's EE's second home.
My trips to Atlanta are very emotional now. Mima is frail. It saddens me. Mima is still here. That makes me happy and grateful. But now the trips are even more emotional because I've been talking to Atlanta about EE. I've been on the radio there, done some interviews, and met hundreds. EE hosted events at two Black-owned wine shoppes. People from all over the city came, just to meet me, just to talk about EE. All they know is that I am a woman who has pledged to support Black businesses. That's all. But you know what? For some folks, those who are starving for change, who are suffocated by the status quo, who are stifled and stranded by the hopelessness they fear is infinite... those folks think that anyone who would make that kind of commitment must be a superstar.
Who is this hero? Who is this brave soldier who would dare make small efforts to find and support quality Black businesses and then go out of her way to promote them? Is she a politician, a radical? Who is this heaven-sent champion spending her time, money, heart and mind on trying to prove and tell anyone who would listen that it is beautiful to buy Black? Who is paying her? Why would she do this? "Will you come back to Atlanta and run for Mayor or Governor of Georgia?" asked Frank of the famous "Frank and Wanda Morning Show."
They flooded our events contemplating these questions. They stood in line and on tippy-toes just to hear me speak or shake my hand or hug my neck. One man was ready to fight another man just for thinking he could disagree with the words coming out of my mouth. "We love you." "We got your back." "Thank you." "Thank you for doing this." "Thank you for standing up." Can you help me?" Could you talk to my son?" "Will you speak at my church?" "Keep going sister. We will help you." "Thank you."
Thank you.
Who me?
What are you thanking me for? I'm just visiting my Mima! I'm just buying bananas and coffee. I'm just going out to eat. I'm just getting my nails done! I'm just talking about how proud I am to be Black and be able to support the wonderful talent coming out of my community. What the hell are you standing in line to talk to me for?!! I'm no hero.
Me?
Look, I'm just like all of you. I am a mother who worries about her babies, looking for more chances and ways to protect and love them. I am a wifey who takes good care of her husband, is proud when I look good for him, and lives for his smiles and kisses. I am a daughter who strives to represent all the strength, principles and wisdom my parents instilled in me. That's all I am.
I'm you. Just as you are me.
I went to Atlanta to see Mima. Before I left we had started our first EE affiliate chapter - The Empowerment Experiment of Atlanta. I went to sip on some fine African wines and I left with a movement at my back.
But I aint nobody special. You may feel that way. That's only because I got you thinking about a new kind of future for us. That's what's special. That's what's powerful. Those possibilities, that chance to taste the apple-pie, picket-fence dreams that so many Americans take for granted. That's the feel-good stuff that has your eyes welling...that new quality of life for a people that has suffered so much and given so much to America. And in return we ask for pies and fences. Pies and fences. PIES AND FENCES!!
So think about that. Not me. I'm just Luisa's daughter. Luisa. The Cuban immigrant who, regardless of her virtually white-skin, never abandoned, diminished, or negated her Blackness, her Africanness. The mother of three, who gave up everything she had, including the wedding ring she refuses to replace, so her family can have a better life in the land of opportunity. The laborer whose vacations were defined by her children's and grandchildren's weddings and graduations... who managed to send all of her children from the gang-infested streets of Liberty City to college and their individual success stories. That's me. I'm her daughter. That's all I ever will or ever want to be.
So think about the pies and fences. Think about all the Luisas who fight for us.
And don't think about me. I'm just Luisa's daughter.
Think about us. Think about what we all can do together.
Then who will the real hero be?
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
To be or not to be...
I bet you all think I spend my days shopping, taking care of my family and doing interviews all day. Not true. EE is tougher than that, better than that, realer than that.
You need to know that while I enjoy doing this... love doing this... could not breathe without doing this, I endure some very painful moments along this journey. The pain comes from talking to entrepreneurs and discovering that in many ways, my people, Black people, business people - the ones who believe in the American ideal of hard work paying off, and who thus actually try to succeed as entrepreneurs - are helplessly stuck in a Jim Crow version of the business world.
More pain comes from then having to accept that some of us are stuck with Jim Crow minds. That hurt comes from listening to my people bash our businesses, even as they realize that not supporting them sends a chilling effect throughout our community... that not even trying to find a Black business to meet our needs tells our children that we are not good enough to create, distribute and sell quality goods... that it makes the world believe that that kind of thing, you know, having a successful business, should be left to Whites and other ethnic groups, and we should stick to hooping and rapping... that their negative impression came from an isolated experience and had that same kind of incident happened with a White business they would not even consider castigating that damaging view upon all White businesses. The torture stems from walking around the South Side of Chicago and asking a kid whether they knew if a certain business I was considering going into was Black-owned, and seeing in his face a look of heart-attack surprise, immediately followed by a sigh and low-hanging, slow head shake. I know that look. It's the "Are you insane? Black-owned?" face, followed by the "We'll never own anything like that," sadness.
That's a lot of pain.
Now, you should also know that I am free to use that pain as an excuse to cut 'n' run, or violate our pledge, or give up on all of you and shut this down... no website, no blog, no foundation trying to raise money for a national campaign where all of us our doing a little bit everyday and posting/showcasing to the world our Black dollars online. I could easily do that.
Fortunately, in a weird, twisted, wicked way, those anguish-filled episodes are the essence of my enlightenment, the source of my strength, and the fuel for my fire.
John and I received a note from John Clark, the owner of Reggio's Pizza. His enterprise is extremely successful. His brand is a household name in the Black community. He has been recognized time and time again for his leadership in the industry and the excellence his operation demonstrates. He is a role model, a true pillar of hope and integrity in Chicago for all people, regardless of color... for anyone who believes that hard work, education, and principles are the keys to success in America.
So why is it that I can only find his pizza in the Black Walgreens? Are Black people the only people who like pizza? I understand certain 'ethnic' hair care products - we use products that most others do not. But why is it that he has to beg, blackmail, bully and bribe to get a major retailer to carry his product, and then when he lands the deal, they relegate him to 'urban' markets? Would that happen if it was the same pizza, been around for the same 35 years, had the same tens of millions in annual revenue, but was owned by a White family instead?
Don't waste your time on that one. We already know the answer. Now here's a real tough question for you. Would he have made it that far if he hadn't announced and proclaimed his minority-ness? I wish I could say yes. I want to boast, as I chomp on this unbelievably scrumptious pizza, made with that awesome, one-of-a-kind butter crust, "Of course! John Clark is an extraordinary man, with an extraordinary plan, who has the work ethic and quality product required to guarantee success!" Y'all know I want to shout that from the mountain top!
But...
wait a minute. I just have to finish this slice. Damn, it's good!
OK. I'm back.
But I really don't know. I don't know how it happened for him. Half the time, I hear successful entrepreneurs say they had to, or chose to, hide that the business is Black-owned. They knew the product and everything else was tight. They knew they had a shot at the American Dream. Why ruin it by letting your customers know you are Black? Why risk losing customers who have never dealt with a Black business, and 1) fear that you don't have the skills and resources to last over the longterm, 2) just don't really like Black people, unless they are on TV singing, dancing, or throwing a ball? Why risk losing Black customers who will intentionally pass you by just because they accept and hold dear negative stereotypes about Black business OR the ones who prove they've 'made it' by relishing in the fact that they don't have to live off of Black businesses because their lush suburb does not have any? Why would you do that? Are you stupid??!!
But then if you don't wear that big, Black "B" on your chest, you might be missing out on those precious 'Minority Set-Asides' or 'Diversity Allocations' or 'Diversity Targets'... or possibly forego taking up a big chunk of the laudable 'Social Responsibility' or 'Corporate Citizenship' budget. How dare you miss out on that chance to show up at the press conference and be on the website to represent all 38 million of us? Seriously though, you are new, small, and Black? Why should you even try to compete based on merit? Brotha, you better get that certification. Sistah, you better show them that you are the gateway to the growing Black market. You better smile, be humble, be grateful, beg, settle and take whatever scraps they give you, because one contract is better than none. And you better hurry up because they have only set aside .08 percent of their budget for all minorities, and no way is it even conceivable that they might exceed that??!!
I know it kinda sucks. That's the new millennium Jim Crow paradox. But don't worry. I know you just want a chance to demonstrate your value based on your brains, plans, goods and services. I know, I know. I know and you know your heart. So it's alright. You gotta do whatcha gotta do... right?
To be to not to be?
To be Black or not to be Black?
John Clark, self-made millionaire, entrepreneur extraordinaire, proud Black man, and patriotic American did a little of both. His plan was to travel down set-aside street for a while, and then take that to allocation alley... then maybe, just maybe he could one day step out onto justice junction and cruise down the fairness fairway.
Didn't work out that way. We spent a day with John Clark at his production facility. It was amazing. Huge. State of the art everything. Friendly, knowledgeable, loyal employees all over the place. And y'all know how I feel about the end product. He talked about how difficult it is to just get the chance to make it. He has already proven himself. The pizza speaks for itself. So why does his race even matter? Why is placement of his product based on the race? But here's the problem, he has to play up his race, or he won't even get in the door. They are gonna notice. And when they do, he'll be reduced to what he is. A Black pizza man. Black pizza man. Pizza for Black people. Pizza in Black stores. Doesn't matter that he is the largest Black-owned frozen pizza company in the world.
But John Clark did not complain about that. His problem is that WE know that this is happening and WE do nothing about it. We demand nothing of these retailers and distributors. We don't even know or care about how many Black vendors they do business with or whether they even care about that sort of thing. We give them all our money and allegiance, and for all we know, they have never even considered giving a Black company a contract. That was his pain.
Now it's mine. That's my pain this week. That's the pain that will take me into another week of EE. EE is committed to advocating the issues of the Black manufacturers and distributors. They have the plants. They have the multi-location operations. That means they have the jobs. You know I have love for the three-man dry cleaning operation, or the mom-and-pop coffee shop. But EE is about us being smart and seeing the big picture. We have to think about the John Clark's and the Reggio's Pizzas out there.
We don't think about them. And that's why things don't change for us. That's why we are stuck in the Jim Crow business world. It's due to our Jim Crow minds. Imagine if we started paying attention. What if we started spending our money only with those retailers and distributors who respected our talent and businesses?
Do you see?
Do you want to see?
To see or not to see? That is a painful question.
To be or not to be? That is a difficult question.
To EE or not to EE? That is the question.
And the answer.
You need to know that while I enjoy doing this... love doing this... could not breathe without doing this, I endure some very painful moments along this journey. The pain comes from talking to entrepreneurs and discovering that in many ways, my people, Black people, business people - the ones who believe in the American ideal of hard work paying off, and who thus actually try to succeed as entrepreneurs - are helplessly stuck in a Jim Crow version of the business world.
More pain comes from then having to accept that some of us are stuck with Jim Crow minds. That hurt comes from listening to my people bash our businesses, even as they realize that not supporting them sends a chilling effect throughout our community... that not even trying to find a Black business to meet our needs tells our children that we are not good enough to create, distribute and sell quality goods... that it makes the world believe that that kind of thing, you know, having a successful business, should be left to Whites and other ethnic groups, and we should stick to hooping and rapping... that their negative impression came from an isolated experience and had that same kind of incident happened with a White business they would not even consider castigating that damaging view upon all White businesses. The torture stems from walking around the South Side of Chicago and asking a kid whether they knew if a certain business I was considering going into was Black-owned, and seeing in his face a look of heart-attack surprise, immediately followed by a sigh and low-hanging, slow head shake. I know that look. It's the "Are you insane? Black-owned?" face, followed by the "We'll never own anything like that," sadness.
That's a lot of pain.
Now, you should also know that I am free to use that pain as an excuse to cut 'n' run, or violate our pledge, or give up on all of you and shut this down... no website, no blog, no foundation trying to raise money for a national campaign where all of us our doing a little bit everyday and posting/showcasing to the world our Black dollars online. I could easily do that.
Fortunately, in a weird, twisted, wicked way, those anguish-filled episodes are the essence of my enlightenment, the source of my strength, and the fuel for my fire.
John and I received a note from John Clark, the owner of Reggio's Pizza. His enterprise is extremely successful. His brand is a household name in the Black community. He has been recognized time and time again for his leadership in the industry and the excellence his operation demonstrates. He is a role model, a true pillar of hope and integrity in Chicago for all people, regardless of color... for anyone who believes that hard work, education, and principles are the keys to success in America.
So why is it that I can only find his pizza in the Black Walgreens? Are Black people the only people who like pizza? I understand certain 'ethnic' hair care products - we use products that most others do not. But why is it that he has to beg, blackmail, bully and bribe to get a major retailer to carry his product, and then when he lands the deal, they relegate him to 'urban' markets? Would that happen if it was the same pizza, been around for the same 35 years, had the same tens of millions in annual revenue, but was owned by a White family instead?
Don't waste your time on that one. We already know the answer. Now here's a real tough question for you. Would he have made it that far if he hadn't announced and proclaimed his minority-ness? I wish I could say yes. I want to boast, as I chomp on this unbelievably scrumptious pizza, made with that awesome, one-of-a-kind butter crust, "Of course! John Clark is an extraordinary man, with an extraordinary plan, who has the work ethic and quality product required to guarantee success!" Y'all know I want to shout that from the mountain top!
But...
wait a minute. I just have to finish this slice. Damn, it's good!
OK. I'm back.
But I really don't know. I don't know how it happened for him. Half the time, I hear successful entrepreneurs say they had to, or chose to, hide that the business is Black-owned. They knew the product and everything else was tight. They knew they had a shot at the American Dream. Why ruin it by letting your customers know you are Black? Why risk losing customers who have never dealt with a Black business, and 1) fear that you don't have the skills and resources to last over the longterm, 2) just don't really like Black people, unless they are on TV singing, dancing, or throwing a ball? Why risk losing Black customers who will intentionally pass you by just because they accept and hold dear negative stereotypes about Black business OR the ones who prove they've 'made it' by relishing in the fact that they don't have to live off of Black businesses because their lush suburb does not have any? Why would you do that? Are you stupid??!!
But then if you don't wear that big, Black "B" on your chest, you might be missing out on those precious 'Minority Set-Asides' or 'Diversity Allocations' or 'Diversity Targets'... or possibly forego taking up a big chunk of the laudable 'Social Responsibility' or 'Corporate Citizenship' budget. How dare you miss out on that chance to show up at the press conference and be on the website to represent all 38 million of us? Seriously though, you are new, small, and Black? Why should you even try to compete based on merit? Brotha, you better get that certification. Sistah, you better show them that you are the gateway to the growing Black market. You better smile, be humble, be grateful, beg, settle and take whatever scraps they give you, because one contract is better than none. And you better hurry up because they have only set aside .08 percent of their budget for all minorities, and no way is it even conceivable that they might exceed that??!!
I know it kinda sucks. That's the new millennium Jim Crow paradox. But don't worry. I know you just want a chance to demonstrate your value based on your brains, plans, goods and services. I know, I know. I know and you know your heart. So it's alright. You gotta do whatcha gotta do... right?
To be to not to be?
To be Black or not to be Black?
John Clark, self-made millionaire, entrepreneur extraordinaire, proud Black man, and patriotic American did a little of both. His plan was to travel down set-aside street for a while, and then take that to allocation alley... then maybe, just maybe he could one day step out onto justice junction and cruise down the fairness fairway.
Didn't work out that way. We spent a day with John Clark at his production facility. It was amazing. Huge. State of the art everything. Friendly, knowledgeable, loyal employees all over the place. And y'all know how I feel about the end product. He talked about how difficult it is to just get the chance to make it. He has already proven himself. The pizza speaks for itself. So why does his race even matter? Why is placement of his product based on the race? But here's the problem, he has to play up his race, or he won't even get in the door. They are gonna notice. And when they do, he'll be reduced to what he is. A Black pizza man. Black pizza man. Pizza for Black people. Pizza in Black stores. Doesn't matter that he is the largest Black-owned frozen pizza company in the world.
But John Clark did not complain about that. His problem is that WE know that this is happening and WE do nothing about it. We demand nothing of these retailers and distributors. We don't even know or care about how many Black vendors they do business with or whether they even care about that sort of thing. We give them all our money and allegiance, and for all we know, they have never even considered giving a Black company a contract. That was his pain.
Now it's mine. That's my pain this week. That's the pain that will take me into another week of EE. EE is committed to advocating the issues of the Black manufacturers and distributors. They have the plants. They have the multi-location operations. That means they have the jobs. You know I have love for the three-man dry cleaning operation, or the mom-and-pop coffee shop. But EE is about us being smart and seeing the big picture. We have to think about the John Clark's and the Reggio's Pizzas out there.
We don't think about them. And that's why things don't change for us. That's why we are stuck in the Jim Crow business world. It's due to our Jim Crow minds. Imagine if we started paying attention. What if we started spending our money only with those retailers and distributors who respected our talent and businesses?
Do you see?
Do you want to see?
To see or not to see? That is a painful question.
To be or not to be? That is a difficult question.
To EE or not to EE? That is the question.
And the answer.
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