As a 36-year-old man, I can now look down memory lane and pinpoint several bouts of ignorance
By James Lewis
Ignorance. An untamed disease that knows no bounds, tainting any mind devoid of knowledge to combat it. Black, white, young, old, male, female--it doesn’t matter. If you know its power and influence, then at some point in your life, it probably infected you, too. Its virus may even flow through your veins still, leeching off your ability to “see” beyond your own two eyes. No one is immune. Not even me.
It took a long leap into adulthood to split open my narrow-minded ways. As a 36-year-old man, I can now look down memory lane and pinpoint several bouts of ignorance, but for some reason, one trivial moment sticks out:
It was 1986, my freshman year in high school. As I’d done almost everyday in study hall, I’d crack open my Government textbook and prop my head on the palm of my hand. The teacher would enforce classroom silence--which only granted peace to “exercise” my eyes. Yeah, I exercised them, all right. Let’s just say the back of my eyelids held my attention way better than some house on Pennsylvania Avenue.
Bill, a 16-year-old young man I’d known since childhood--but didn’t really consider a buddy--sat across from me near the front row. Before my escape to dreamland, Bill reached under his desk for a textbook. I didn’t think much of it--until I noticed “Trigonometry” on the cover.
He opened the book and jotted notes on a white pad. My eyebrows flew up, mouth the shape of a donut. What the...?
Bill? In an advanced Math Class? Impossible.
Why my shocked reaction?
Simple. I had learned blacks couldn’t excel in higher learning.
Like I said, ignorance.
Television, movies, magazines, books...they all warped a negative view of my own—but I still didn’t get the clue. When a ubiquitous media spreads cancerous propaganda about a group of people almost daily, its virus can poison young minds, even those in the same skin.
And Bill and I shared the same skin.
Graphic images had painted a less-than-human picture of dark-skinned folks, polluting my under-developed brain. In my youth, I had developed a sort of latent prejudice.
Toward black folks.
And believe it or not, I had many black friends. Still didn’t matter. We all sailed on a “slave” ship bound to sink.
According to stereotypical mumbo-jumbo I’d absorbed for years—including nonsense from fellow students, friends, and, believe it or not, adults—anyone “cursed” with dark melanin fell far behind in one basic necessity: intelligence.
Young James believed that mess, too. What I’d read and heard had conned me into soaking in false truths that proliferated self-hate.
That’s right—self-hate.
What else do you call it when your programmed mind breeds doubt, hostility and suspicion toward people who look like you?
Except for The Cosby Show and a sprinkle of black TV personalities, mugshots, drugs, murders and shirt-less black men with cuffs behind their backs ruled the nightly news. The TV spoon-fed false advertisement to a billion people around the world: Only a bottom-of-the-barrel black society existed in America.
Media didn’t show many brothers in suits and ties calling shots, either--unless you count Jesse Jackson. Even in sports like the NFL: We had almost every position on lock—except quarterback and head coach. Pretty obvious, right? Can’t have an HNIC in a role that required analytical skill. Scientific research “proved” blacks could never attain a luxury such as high aptitude or on-your-toes intellect.
Remember, the Bell Curve for black folks slanted further down than the so-called “Lilly White,” and part of me believed it. I was a young black teenager with blind eyes and deep-seated thoughts--hardly any different than some old white racist.
Hate. Toward my own. For men and women--my brothers and sisters--in the same skin.
Nothing is sadder.
As an adult, I sometimes question myself whenever I see my young “peeps” today. Why the roughneck hostility toward each other? Where’d the distrust come from? How come a young brother who speaks “proper” English equates to acting white?
Part of me understands. I saw the same things growing up. I’d already confessed to the blanket of ignorance wrapped around my head.
But I grabbed that blanket and yanked it away. I now know my folks can and do stand on equal ground with everyone else when given the opportunity. Scientific research about black folks’ brainpower definitely holds water today, huh? Right.
But...what do you think?

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