By United Church of Rogers Park member Michael J. Harrington
Mr. Harrington was invited to share his reflections on the theme “Witness to African American History” at the church’s Sunday services on Feb. 27, 2005. The text of his speech is reprinted below with permission.
Knowing Black history is important, but I used to think I was bored and frustrated by it. For most of us the history of anything is like some important but dusty old museum relic. We visit history on rare occasion, out of respect or because we are forced to.
We acknowledge its wonder; a particular scene may even have an emotional or intellectual impact on us. You see a picture of past human brutality and think, “Hey, that’s right. They lynched Black men, women, and children around the nation. It was local entertainment! And in the south, they were doing it right into the 1960’s.”
But the impact is brief. As we leave the museum, we forget about the details, and move on with our lives. I finally realized that I was frustrated, not with history, but with trying to know and remember all the details. There have been tremendous advances in documenting slavery and our nation’s racism, legal facts of life for nearly three centuries.
The vast treasure of history, the artifacts, the stories, and explanations of what happened to who and when continue to emerge. But, I will never be able to know everything about our history. So, it’s more important to understand its lessons, than to know every detail.
Beyond reacting to the numbing mass of historical information, I get angry when I see little effort to connect our present to the lessons we should have learned. The sad array of examples where our history means absolutely nothing to the larger society concerns me. Again, it’s like “Well that was then. This is now. It happened in the past. I did my time at the museum!”
Again, we leave history behind, and move on.
To take a detour for a bit, particularly for my Caucasian brothers and sisters here, when I say OUR history, you do understand, don’t you, that our history is the story of Black people and White people in the United States of America.
What happened to my ancestors, what they endured, what they overcame, where they triumphed and failed is mirrored by – it’s inextricably linked to – what was going on with your ancestors. By extension, what’s going on in my life today is linked to what’s happening in yours.
As a Black man I celebrate our achievements in the face of life threatening challenges. I marvel at the accomplishments of great leaders of my race and yours. This history has an impact on my life, and influences my present day behavior.
My children have already learned some of our history. When they’re older we’ll make sure they understand that Black and White people died so that we could have the right to vote. When I vote and participate in community activism, I do so in recognition of the awesome struggle and sacrifice that made it possible.
As I stand here today I’m very tempted to teach and lecture for hours. But I won’t. However, I will challenge you to take a test. I’ll ask you about just one fact of our shared history and I’ll ask you how it relates to our nation’s present and future.
Q. The wealth, power, and strength of our nation would not exist at all were it not for what?
A. The Black slave labor that built our nation and enabled it to succeed.
You knew that, right?
Black farmers, horse wranglers, cattlemen, architects, construction workers, tradesmen, craftsmen, ironsmiths, chefs, housekeepers, nannies, teachers, religious, moms, dads, and children. Under slavery the combined strength, talents, and intellect of millions of Black people were the greatest asset our nation has ever known.
Our White ancestors took that to the bank and earned interest on it tenfold! Most people don’t know that.
Some people do understand that the flavor and texture of today’s American culture – many important advances in music, the arts, and sciences – have been shaped or entirely created by Blacks. But beyond a weak understanding of these facts, most people do not see that as a reason to value and respect us today for having made these or any other contributions to our society.
I think that a celebration of our history really accomplishes little unless it is connected to the present. I want to know this: how does our history shape our interaction and involvement with our Black neighbors in Rogers Park? At work? In our church? Does it have any relevance, positively or negatively? Does it matter?
I could talk about what it’s like to walk in my shoes, and to taste, smell, feel, listen to, and live in this world – to see it from my experience.
Last week I saw the blinking blue light of the new police camera installed at the Morse El station just down the street. The camera videotapes everything. The hope is that it will vanquish the Black gangbangers, the drug sellers, the drug customers, the thugs, and the ne’er-do-wells who have managed a profitable street drug trade for years, all out in the open and without any real challenge.
'But, my eye saw something else, something that a police camera misses. People watching the camera as it watches the thugs may overlook it too. Just a week ago, and just a few blocks from here, there appeared on a concrete wall a new item of graffiti.
The graffiti artists, the taggers, or maybe we call them gangbangers too, wrote their names with pride. Unashamed of their vandalism, they signed it “Goon Squad.”
Just imagine them . . . young Brittany, Kiki, Sha, Tobi, Shantana, Tonsha, and Furim. Seven young Black girls . . . a group of friends out late at night . . . bored as hell and looking for fun on the streets of Rogers Park. Maybe you’ve seen girls like them. They’re a tight bunch and a tough bunch of school-age kids. They always travel together when they venture out at night.
Laughing, shouting, joking, sharing a bag of chips, and jockeying for attention . . . they hold each other close physically and emotionally. They don’t dwell on the intimate bond that keeps them together or the reasons they have for preferring the streets rather than dealing with what they left behind at home. You don’t hear them speak about it in their talk. But instinctively they know their fates are linked, and that even their very lives this night may depend on staying and being that close.
Bored but bonded, this crew does something that fortifies them and at the same time offends us. Brittany has a fat, inch-thick magic marker in her pocket. She whips it out. She writes her name on the wall in big letters. Her girlfriend Kiki grabs the marker. It passes on to Sha, Tobi, Shantana, and Tonsha. Finally, Furim gets to sign her name, and with a flourish writes GOON SQUAD. There’s no art. No fancy designs. No manifesto.
But, it’s a statement nonetheless. It declares, “We’re here. We’re not invisible. I’m here. I exist. See me. Hear me.”
What else are these little Black girls saying? “I matter! Listen to me! I deserve to be heard! Help me. Nurture me. Teach me, damn it! Guide me. Encourage me. Love me, please.”
Did anyone or the police camera see these girls make their mark on history? It was but a moment. It came and passed by, as unnoticed as a heartbeat. In the time it took you to fold the napkins on your family’s dinner table that night, it was done. Maybe it was after I had put my own kids to bed and tucked Erica in, yet again. My little Black girl was headed for dreamland. With the night still as young as they - these other girls forged on to discover or encounter whatever experience would come next.
This slice of Rogers Park life suggests two things. It speaks to what is not going on at home for these girls, about the likelihood of some serious parental neglect. It also speaks to a level of societal indifference, and worse, of societal neglect. We must find solutions.
On the hard and daily tasks of parenting, I comment from my own experience. If my kids were wandering the streets after dark and “tagging” property there’d be hell to pay, with repercussions for both me and them. Luckily, with my partner Jack, I’ve been able to devote time and energy towards raising Erica and Eric. Our children understand the difference between right and wrong behavior. Also, they have other, more personally enriching activities and productive behaviors which occupy their time. I pray this will always be the case. It’s not easy, sometimes we fail. Sadly, not every Black parent can or is in a position to meet all the challenges of parenting.
Think about the issues which created and perpetuate this tragedy, one which now impacts successive generations of Black families. The new all-girl Goon Squad is just one symptom of the crisis.
The primary issue I see is societal responsibility and neglect. The "goon squads" and many other children in our community need our help. The lack of enriching youth programs in Rogers Park has been documented too many times, by too many agencies. Those few youth programs that do exist seem to be just holding their heads above water, and barely able to help or maintain the interest of the few youths they have enrolled.
Parental neglect and juvenile delinquency are not new, and it is not an exclusively Black problem. But, think about this: what would be our community’s response if there were large numbers of White kids with nothing to do but hang out on Rogers Park streets? What community programs would be created, how many volunteers and resources would be marshaled, would government investments be found to target youths in need of help?
Well, we don’t have to ponder a hypothetical. There’s no need to take a wild guess or speculate on the answer. In an earlier era, just a few decades ago in Rogers Park, the few kids who were out gooning were White and we - our society - cared more.
You might say, yes, but in an earlier era things were different. The workday and even work was different. Technology, the economy, the cost of living, the explosion of illegal drugs, and many other factors have changed our moral and social values, some for the better and some for the worse.
However, in an earlier Rogers Park, even though society was undergoing major change, we could still count on an Officer Friendly patrolling Morse Avenue to help to keep an eye out for trouble.
Back then it was a certainty that our churches and synagogues, the Boy and Girl Scouts, the women’s clubs, the Lions, the Elks, the Masons, the boys and girls clubs, the city parks, the schools, most institutions, and lots of good neighbors were all working in the same fundamental direction: to help our youth.
Today, the kids out late at night are Black - and along Clark Street they are Latino. I hear a lot of lip service but see little evidence of a real community wide determination to care. There’s not much of a commonly held moral, social, or political resolve to give a damn about Black kids headed for trouble.
When I joined United Church of Rogers Park I did so because I believe in our faith and the social justice principles that unite us. We do give a damn and there are many in our community who do as well. I also believe that we – our churches, our agencies, our leaders, our neighbors – can launch a renewed focus on youth in our community.
I believe that:
* WE CAN address the need for comprehensive and collaborative planning by local agencies to meet the needs of our youth.
* WE CAN do more effective outreach and support parents and families in need.
* WE CAN have more successful outreach efforts to at-risk youth, and...
* WE CAN identify and secure the funds required to solve what is a manageable problem.
It’s manageable because there aren’t thousands of bored and aimless Brittanys and Tonshas out wandering aimlessly on our streets. It’s manageable because they aren’t hopeless, they are children!
These children can be saved, nurtured, and guided towards a path other than becoming targets of the police camera’s lens. But only if we have the determination to take up the challenge.
When I think about Black History Month, I think about the lessons we should have learned from our past. I also think about how they apply to our children and our hopes for our future.
Let’s start working for a better future now. Thank you.
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