I’ve Had Enuf, Said One Angry Man Who Is Looking For Universal Healing

“So when our people got here – and they came here from a civilization where they had high morals . . . it takes a cruel man to break him in, a mean man, a heartless man, a man with
no feelings . . .”Malcolm X

That’s right!  I’d spelled the word enough, e-n-u-f (a la Ntozake Shange, of the 70s Broadway hit play, for colored girls . . .); and, although I am far away, both physically and mentality, from being a colored girl, I, too have considered suicide way beyond the rainbow’s horizon called life.  I was watching a talk show the other evening, where Joyce Carol Oates, Reverend Al Sharpton, Geraldo Rivera, and a few other distinguished guests were discussing Presidential candidate Barack H. Obama.  Ms. Oates brought up the subject of “. . . Obama not fitting the image of the angry Black man”, then I guest I am the poster child for that cause.

Now I have been an avid reader of, Ms. Oates, literary work for sometime now, and aside from the poetic-license most literary giants tend to take in creating their masterpieces, I am very leery as to how many “angry, Black, men …” she has come in contact with, being a white woman.  I did not stay to long on that particular channel, as I continue to channel surfacing, and then stopping on New York’s WPIX, Channel 11, and the Maury show . . . need I say any more(?).

But of course, I will – I sat there and watched one young woman, publicly dishonor not only herself, but her children, her family, and friends over the paternal testing of possible daddy number eleven . . . I, too, all over again become an angry black man.  Nevertheless, my anger is fragmented, and deeply rooted.  Yet, I had e-n-u-f compassion for what I was witnessing on television.  For I wanted to hug that particular sister, and let her know that she is a valued person in this crazy world we come to embrace as humanity.  I wanted to hug her, and tell her that she’s a child of the highest love known to man and woman; and that she doesn’t have to continue going through eleven men, and bringing innocent children into this world as a result of that ill-fated love.  Because the love that we are all so desperately in search of is within each and everyone one of us.

I am angry with Maury, the producers, and executives of this particular program, and other shows of its genre that are making millions off of hurting, and miserable women.  I had e-n-u-f, as I sat there in my small Harlem apartment looking at this madness.  Ms. Oates, if you want to talk about being an angry, Black man, let's talk about me.  I'm trying to work, and keep a roof over my head, while million dollars condominiums, and Ofay’s continue to walk past me upon today’s Harlem streets, as if I am the 2008 version of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man.   Ms. Oates, were you including me in your blatantly discussion about angry, Black men and Senator Obama, not being seen as one?

I’m angry now as I draft up this paper, while riding the Madison Avenue M2 Bus to Harlem, and a junkie is leaning into me with a cup of coffee, while its contents is spilling from the rim of their cup. Junkie’s in 2008?What has somebody gone and done, release 70s junkies from rehab. thirty-years later; or are we so beat up by the greed of today’s society and state of the world’s economy – that we all are walking around mad as hell, and finding escapism at the end of a needle or gun?

Let’s talk about greed for a moment or two.  Greed is when a photo of a superstar’s new born is worth millions, or an elected official has three apartments in Harlem, when folks are sleeping on streets below.   On the other hand, with today’s economical condition (e.g., $5.29 for a gallon of gasoline, $5.00 for a gallon of milk, or $3.50 for one slice of pizza), are we returning to drugs,drinking, random acts of violence, in order to escape our 2008 rollercoaster lives?

I had e-n-u-f, as I ride the “A” train daily, and, on one occasion, I had to sit and listened to three Latino brothers calling each other the “N-word . . . this, or N-word . . . that” every other word, in a span of a thirty minute train ride.  And, what was so sad, as if the usage of that word isn’t e-n-u-f, is that some beautiful, pregnant Latina sister, earth mother, goddess was among them . . . didn't she know that her unborn child was listening?

Would it have been acceptable to sit on a crowded train and yell, SPIC, SPIC, SPIC, and SPIC!  I would like to ask the young women of the television show, the View, to go and debate this topic (Note:Whoopi Goldberg, it is never an acceptable time to use the word, even in this matter – for which I apologize).

I had e-n-u-f, when I walk into a bodega store, and hear a young child demanding something from the storeowner, and sadly to say, a few adults, too.  All of them making demands, as if they own the right to a loosely cigarette, piece of candy, and/or a Lotto ticket, without the word please or thank you! Or, while standing at a bus stop, with several elderly woman, and a young boy, with earplugs in his ears, boards the bus before them. What has happened to civility?

Now this proclivity isn’t solely about the behavior of Black American’s, but the Africans, the Puerto Ricans, Mexicans, Dominicans, the Asians, the Ofay’s etc., etc., the entire melting pot we call American today, which I have observed on a daily bases are becoming more demanding and rude.  Period!

I think we all had e-n-u-f; and we are aimlessly walking around angry.  We are all screaming, acting out, carrying on as if we could all use a little Prozac.   I, for one, can claim a right to being angry, and I know from where that anger stems from, but I do not know about the young man, or young women sitting next to me on a crowded bus or train; or the driver riding in traffic in front, beside or behind me.  So what can I do?

I can do what I have programmed myself to do, in order to keep my sanity.  I will continue walking down these mean streets of New York, with praises on my lips, and a song in my heart; and hope that eventually a healing will be forthcoming that would wash over anyone's whose spirit.  Spirits that are being compromised by life in general.

I truly believe that everyone is in need of atonement from previous disappointments, pain, and conditional love. Therefore, what I purpose to everyone, is that we all start giving out well wishes, saying please and thank you’s again, and excuse me/I’m sorry to anyone with whom we may encounter; and I ask that we let the healing began one person at a time – starting with ourselves.   For I have been bent, twisted, and lied to and upon, but I’m not broken, and neither are you.

So let all of us start working on what makes us go-off on one another, and let the healing began from within.//DVB

d v brooks, EMPA, SSgt., B.A., & A.O.S., is an autobiographical essayist living in Harlem, NYC, and the producer/host of Blackpoemology:In Conversation on the Arts and Social Issues, MNN Cable Show.d v brooks an advocate for the awareness/prevention of Child Abuse, Prostate, Skin & Breast Cancer, and HIV/AIDS; and a local community elected official in East Harlem.He is also a mentor/tutor among several not-for-profit organizations in Manhattan.

Copyright July 17, 2008