[Pre-Obama, some well-meaning person asked me my opinion of the so-called "New Black Renaissance." My short essay in reply is below. Now that we are in the new millennium and Obama is the President of the United States, we might ironically say that the child was born but the mother died. The "new" Black is literally a mixed blessing. I have not bothered to change anything that I said pre-Obama because a priori is de facto on time (translation: ain't nothing changed, not really).]
What Renaissance?
A renaissance is a "re-birth." So what are we talking about? A resurgence of Black literature? Like what, like when? Are we going back to the days of the Negro Renaissance, which was itself a marketing ploy of middle class Blacks and their White patrons?
The term "renaissance" was lifted from Marcus Garvey who was calling for a rebirth of African culture and self-determination. But the Negro Renaissance, just like today's renaissance, was not about self-determination but rather about integration and the pleading of an educated middle class that "we, too, are Americans / humans / artists / whatever, just like you." What I see is not a renaissance but rather a petition for acceptance.
We Africans in America have never before had such a large and literate Black middle class. Today, a significant number of us have a meaningful level of disposable income. To go with the cash and credit cards, we also have a desire to see middle class values affirmed. Made no mistake, we have had a middle class before, but it was not large. We have had literate people, but the majority were not middle class, were not White college educated in mainstream views and values. Indeed, the last two decades of the 20th century are the first time that educated African Americans did not have to literally fight for official recognition as American citizens.
The result of today's social reality is that the social content of much of our literature has shifted. Some would argue that we have split into black professionals on the one hand, and a black underclass on the other hand, and that the literature of today reflects that split among our people.
If we look at the state of Black literature we see the popularity of romance and self help books—manuals designed to tell us how to make it and be happy in America (a country which allegedly no longer legally and officially practices racism). The romance is the belief in the individual, thus we are looking for "my" soul mate, "my" dream job, "my" own business, etc. ad nausea.
From a more critical perspective, there is no Renaissance in Black literature—what we have are novels either focusing on the trauma of life in the ghetto or offering a road map on how to escape the ghetto, physically and psychologically; self help manuals on doing business with and just like the descendants of those whose business historically was the trade in our black bodies and the exploitation of our Black labor.
The so-called Black literary Renaissance, like it's sibling, "smooth jazz," is a sort of hybrid funk without feeling, without the sweat of struggle, a cigarette dangling from it's lips, a shot of liquor in it's hand, and a self-centered view of the world. What we don't have are major publishing companies and nationally distributed literary journals that are of us, for us, and by us. Even those of us who self publish tend toward winning recognition from the status quo.
The hard truth is that there is no other place to go. If we don't become part of the mainstream, we end up in the wilderness. For those of us who are trying to maintain a course of independence and self-determination, we are like DuBois proverbial Negro with a double consciousness. We remain marginalized by economic considerations; literally unpopular and unpaid. I understand the reasons behind the choice made by many, even as I obstinately choose a different direction. A true Black Renaissance will happen when we get back to the principles of self-determination, self-respect and self-defense.
Right now, I do not see any Black Renaissance. Nothing is being reborn, except our own collaboration in the extinction of anything and everything that might be identified as both Black and opposed to the status quo.
—kalamu ya salaam