This post appeared in Just Sayin'- "Muslim or Christian?" (149 hits)
Glad I know Sister Muhammad from Newark Mosque #25 ..everytime she sees a young "hood so called hoodrat or thug" she ..says come here..and proceeds to shower them with love and a lecture and then some action..too many times I have heard her say..--we got to love your younguns..then she takes them in, talks to them leads them and helps them..what community is this? A community that knows the truth set forth in the following blog by a non-Muslim..so you see we do agree:
Once it took whips and chains, rape and murder to keep us unruly Africans from banding together and reclaiming our power. Fear mongers were fear mongers even then, divide and conquer was, is and ever will be their leadership style. Before you call me racist, check out current GOP tactics. So, long before Abraham succumbed to the abolitionist pressure, the seed of enmity was planted among us. Men suffered systematic emasculation; their wives and children the merciless tools. Women became, not just their own protectors, but often positioned themselves to shield their sons and men. Complete fragmentation was secured by the manufactured differentiations between house saggin and field saggin. Once our “freedom” was secured, the fear rulers used educational, economic and geographic disparities to slow and distort all attempts at cohesiveness.
We survived all that ya’ll because we had foundation. Despite the house saggin and field saggin crevice, we were once one community. The doctor lived next to the janitor; we knew, loved and supervised each other’s kids. If anybody on the block had food, nobody went hungry. We churched together, we partied together; we struggled forward together. Then we had a nightmare. We decided if we could have cars, educations and homes just like them, we could (and should?) become just like them. We lost our stores, banks, schools, newspapers, all but the barest bones of our communities, (our sense of community) to the shining, empty promise of integration. We gained “free” access and lost ourselves.
Now, we stand by afraid while our children assassinate each other on the corners and in the classroom. We preach, “It Takes a Village…”, but most of us cross the street when we see those hood-lems coming. Won’t even say hi; sure don’t know not even one of their names. We dialogue and discuss; we *itch and moan. Lament at every turn what’s wrong with our kids, but how often do we take time to love them? No overseer required to keep a young black man in line.
