By Phillip Bailey
As the tally mounts on Louisville’s homicides, urban memorials appear to be our only solace. Young men and women are dying, yet a sizeable portion of the community is becoming disturbingly cozier within their cocoon of religious opium at the expense of broader political action.
“We worry, but these days you pray and let it go and let God handle it,” said Thelma Jenkins, on WHAS-11 at the annual West Louisville Appreciation and Family Reunion Weekend at Shawnee Park. “You don’t have to worry about nothing, that’s what we do.”
Succinctly: defeat is setting in, better to hide behind Jesus.
Poet Amiri Baraka called this sentiment “classical Afro-American mythology.” Marcus Garvey despised it, commenting once that “prayer alone is not going to improve our condition.”
W.E.B. Du Bois continuously chastised the belief that blacks “were to suffer … and then afterwards, by Divine edict, raised to manhood and power.”
Organizations addressing the growing number of homicides, which are heavily concentrated in west Louisville and excessively claim black youth, have an equally apolitical message. No Murders Metro, a group of concerned clergy and church-goers, says it hopes to “end murders in the city,” according to Rev. Clay Calloway. For almost a year, members of the racially diverse organization have picked up their crosses after each slaying. While difficult to criticize, NMM presents no strategic plan outside prayer, vigils and religious evangelism, and have yet to ebb the murders, let alone end them.
Astoundingly, these groups and others like them dominate Louisville’s radio airwaves and public discourse. Sayheed Asante, a youth activist and former gang leader who turned his life to community organizing, sees serious shortcomings in religious fanfare. “Candlelights [don’t] deal with the rage or the conditions, period,” said Asante.
Dissect the economic conditions in west Louisville and you’ll find staggering results to support Asante’s skepticism. According to a report by news channel WLKY, approximately one-third of households in the west end have yearly incomes of less than $10,000, and 50 percent of residents older than 16 are unemployed.
In some places, like the historic Russell neighborhood, child poverty is over 70 percent.
Secular alternatives that deal with that type of deprivation have evaporated in the Louisville public discourse. As a consequence, that void is currently filled by an immature, divisive and tawdry bunch that resist long term political initiatives. When U of L professor Ricky L. Jones was featured on Fox 41 for his free class at Expressions of You coffee house, he intended to spawn community consciousness through education. He concluded that if we raise “the levels of engagement of everyday people,” we have a better chance in fighting daily struggles — including the increase in homicides — on individual and institutional levels.
Within days Expressions was filled. Sounds righteous, right? Wrong!
Fox 41 reporter Tonya Mosley, who conducted the story, told me she “was dismayed after receiving phone calls from west end residents upset with Jones’ point of view.” Supposedly he denied families their right to mourn. He absolutely did not. Rather, Jones introduced something besides an event-oriented strategy that many people still don’t want to hear.
Sadly, black spirituality that once launched bold, combative and constructive political action is being reduced to empty sermons, mourning and a weekly parade of misery pimps. The result is an unhealthy belief that “God will handle it,” while the people do absolutely nothing but watch.
Philip Bailey is a senior pursuing a double major in Political Science and Sociology. E-mail him at:opinion@louisvillecardinal.com
