The "Not Black Enough" and the Generational Divide in the Black Community

Today Senator Barack Obama spoke about race and politics. During the course of that speech he spoke of the ties that bind him to his Pastor as well as the differences in perspective that separate him from Reverend Wright. This is especially brave ground to tread upon for a black man because African-Americans have a deep cultural distaste for the airing of family business in the street. I often heard that refrain not only in my home but also at church. "Girl, don't wash your dirty laundry in the street". This was the sign to shut your mouth and remember that black issues were only discussed with and among black people. As I have grown into an adult I now know that maybe showing the world some of those fallacies is not a bad thing and maybe with open conversation we will find, that as Americans that we actually have more in common despite our cultural differences than we believe. One of those issues that we don't speak of often is the generational divide, that prompts one generation of African Americans to ask those of my generation...."are you black enough"? You see there is the generation that marched, were jailed, beaten and abused for their desire to be equal and then there is the generation that read about it all in a book.

We are the first generation to grow up totally in a integrated society. I have lost track of the times that someone has commented that I talked "like a white girl". I understand the disconnect. I went to college permed my hair, wore extensions, shaved my legs and the questions about assimilation doubled and underneath it all you know they are assessing whether or not you are Black enough.

I don't believe that Senator Obama could disown (or excommunicate) his pastor. The contradiction is that despite the disconnect we of the Next Generation are aware that we are standing on that Previous generations shoulders. We often disagree, but respect demands that we the blessed acknowledge that we are the beneficiaries of that generation that suffered. As a result of that generations struggles, I have had the opportunity to attend some of this country's finest institutions which each added a different flavor to my life. I attended Florida A&M University, a historically black university, Nelson Mandela was in prison and we were boycotting the gas companies that with their economic patronages supported apartheid. After a lifetime of being the only black person in a class, it was in this place of black pride and education that I learned to be comfortable in my skin. I think went to New Orleans and Tulane Law School over the protest of my parents who viewed Louisiana as a dangerous place for African Americans. At Tulane I met students from all over the world, from every religion, and with a variety of viewpoints. At Tulane I learned tolerance and to not only speak, but to listen. Then at the end of my educational journey I attended Wesleyan College, a women's college. At Wesleyan they were already having open, in-depth conversations about gender and race and putting that conversation in the context of not only the home but the workplace.

I have had experiences that my parents could have never imagined. How does the black young professional with world view and a racially diverse set of friends, talk to a man or woman who remembers when they were arrested for trying to share a lunch counter with white people. The generational gap can seem cavernous and while I am speaking from a black experience, I suspect that there is a generation of white families who are suffering from the same generational divide. I believe that there are out there tonight Southern white people who grew up with sharecroppers and mammies and who heard from the pulpit that the separation of the races was ordained by God, those same people are now sharing a dinner table with a child or a grandchild that may have a black boyfriend or girlfriend and who listening to urban music and eating sushi, that new generation child or grandchild cannot begin to fathom the fear and concern that under lied those segregationist convictions that there grandparents held dear.

But times change and people change. Segregation was not a 100 years ago, it was just a few decades ago, but look at how our country has changed in a relatively short amount of time. It was the people that made that change possible. We are all a product of our times, a combination of our experiences and we are adaptable to new circumstances. This adaptability means that we can change. So rather than disown the misguided, I think that the intense desire of My Generation is to effect change not only in the lives of those who come after us but also in the lives of the ones that came before us. I love my country dearly and I hope that I am living in the day that my mother could only have dreamed of, a day when she knows that my country loves me back.

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