Participation in the political process without a unified, decided agenda is political suicide for any community seeking to have its legitimate needs and aspirations met.

The potential power of the Black vote in American politics has been a factor for the past 40 plus years that no individual seeking political office can ignore. That power was reestablished with the election of President Barack Obama in 2008.

It was easy for Black youth to dive headfirst into the electoral process at that time. They were energized by the thought of electing this country’s first Black president. Electing Obama was at the top of the Black agenda, Black folks said “we get it” and made a sprint for the polls. We changed the world forever when we decided to speak with one voice.

Once President Lyndon Baines Johnson signed the Civil Rights Bill of 1964, with Dr. Martin Luther King looking over his shoulder, Black people who had a little money couldn’t wait to move from segregated small towns into the big city. But, by the time Black folk got moved in and they jumped the picket fence to go and meet their new neighbors, White folk had already moved out.

Soon after, those Black families went back to those small towns and spread the word about the inner city. The new neighborhood was now populated with the same folks from the small town they left. They all may as well have stayed where they were.

Scientists came up with evidence that a Black woman existed millions of years ago on the continent of Africa. This is as far as they’ve ever gotten in getting down to the bottom of the Black man’s history.

Truth is, everything came from Black people. Our history is so vast that it cannot be encapsulated into one book. Hence  the asinine idea of February as Black History Month in America.  Black history month was nothing but a pacifier given to us as a people; a feigned attempt at recognition of our past accomplishments and contributions.

Recently the Ku Klux Klan made headlines when residents in a local area of Houston noticed their neighborhood was leafleted with flyers encouraging them to join the Ku Klux Klan. Honestly, I yawned when I saw the coverage.

There have been KKK recruitment drives in the not so distant past and I doubt they have produced a surge in their ranks. I always thought the Klan needed to hire an image consultant; you know, do something about those awful uniforms. Young people these days would never trade their skinny jeans and skateboard sneakers for low thread-count white sheets and lit crosses. It’s a new day and the KKK, needless to say, appears to be struggling for relevance.

Every child is born in a state of sincerity. Every time he or she cries, smiles or throws a tantrum it is sincere. At some point in a child’s development it learns how to  manipulate situations and circumstances to achieve short term goals. The hope, then, becomes that a child will grow out of its manipulative ways when it becomes an adult; more spiritually mature.

Sometimes it gets worse before it gets better. Hence, the difficulty in finding sincere people in today’s world. I contend that you can find sincere people and the first place you should look is in the mirror. If you don’t see him or her, fret not.

The insincere man or woman in the mirror is the human being that you have the ability to change. The best way to inject sincerity into an insincere society is through self improvement. I’m on my way to the mirror right now.

There was a time in American history when the Black community had “its own.” When others refused to do business with Black people in America, Blacks were forced to build and patronize their own. Once integration was a reality, White-owned businesses flourished from the influx of Black consumers wishing to “take advantage” of their new freedom.

Blacks walked the streets with inflated chests; teary-eyed because they could now eat in the same diner and be buried in the same cemetery as the slave masters’ children. But how could they believe they had arrived, when the businesses in their community died? Integration represented segregation between Black businesses and their customer base. While social segregation in America exposed hatred, integration exposed our deep-seated hatred for Blacks.

There once was a stalker named “Impossible.” He followed his prey 24 hours a day; 7 days a week and labored without let-up to make people believe in him.
Every time his victims called the police on him they would claim it was just “impossible” to catch him. He doomed an entire people with the cancer of impossibility.
Then one day, a genius decided that he would ignore “impossible”. Since it seemed he couldn’t be killed, arrested, convicted or locked up he decided that the best way to deal with the stalker was to become a stalker.

They play tough positions on professional football teams, hold high political offices, supervise construction shifts and preach in the pulpits of spiritual places of worship. They are leaders of street organizations, captains of corporate industry, hard-core rap stars and short-order cooks.
Who are they? They are Black males who were molested as boys.
While the rape and molestation of females has spawned a plethora of preventive programs and inspired international dialogue, the ever increasing rape of young boys is still a taboo subject. Statistics say that the abuse of young boys is on the rise, but I wonder how accurate those stats could be given the fact that most men who have been abused would never discuss or admit it?

Marcus Washington

I am an angry Black man. Not for traditional, stereotypical reasons. I am angry because if Black blood shed were crude oil, we would be richer than all the kings in Asia combined. Black on Black murder is at an all time high and if we as a people don’t do anything about it we will have reached an all time low.

Dear Acres Homes Community:
The past few years have proved challenging for the residents of Houston’s historic Acres Homes Community. While there has been forward motion on the uphill road to progress, the unsolved murders of six Black females have haunted Acres Homes like the “bat in the attic” that no one can seem to find. The silent lurk of such a depraved animal in human form has been especially daunting and frightening to the area’s females.