Black Financial Speaker Boyce Watkins on Managing Credit

"The Express" Path to Racial Equality

by Dr. Boyce Watkins

www.BoyceWatkins.com

“The Express” is a new film featuring the great Ernie Davis, one of the most amazing college athletes in American History and the first African American to win the Heisman Trophy. He was also a football player for Syracuse University, the campus on which I teach.

I watched the trailer for the film with pride, feeling good about this man and what he accomplished. I saw all the ads, the banners around campus, the website pictures and other excitement as the city prepared for the film’s premiere. I then had a couple of thoughts.
First, I thought about the residual impact of historical racism. Most of the time, when liberal universities talk about racism, the context is one in which racism is something that happened “back then”, and “we are all better now”. The conversation is one of (relatively justifiable) celebration for just how far our nation has come in the fight for social justice.

What is most ironic about this analysis is that it forgets one important fact: the past is not something that existed once and then disappeared. The past is all around us. The present and past CANNOT be disconnected because the present is created by the past, and the past consistently manifests itself in the social infrastructure of our institutions. For example, in the days of Ernie Davis (not that long ago), African Americans were rarely allowed onto my campus (along with many others) and were certainly not allowed to be part of the decision-making bodies of these campuses. This led to a skewed inter-generational transfer of power that reflects itself in the vast degree of (in Georgetown University scholar Christopher Metzler’s words) “academic imperialism” that we see today. If you take a tour of most campuses, you see that there are few Black faces on the faculty, almost none of them tenured. Black students rarely have professors who look like themselves, as if their price of tuition is to embrace some degree of cultural dilution in their efforts to successfully assimilate. Black scholars are told that research on the Black community is “Ghetto scholarship” and effectively marginalized to departments that have little say in how the campus is run. The attitude is “This is our campus. History and tradition are everything here, and the tradition is that our rules apply and you need to just fit in where you can. We have no problem with you, as long as you remain grateful that we’ve allowed you into our house. Now, here’s a picture of one of our great black athletes to prove that we can’t be racist.”

The second thing I’ve noticed is what I call the “Old people effect” in dealing with historical racism. This effect is one that ideologically disconnects African Americans who attended college during the 60s and 70s from those who attended in the 90s and 00s. It is one where the campus shows tribute and respect to those who were mistreated 30 years ago, while simultaneously continuing the historical pattern of ostracism toward those who are the academic descendants of the older alumni. The “Old people effect” essentially says, “Yes, we will honor ex-athletes Art Monk and Ernie Davis, but they are nothing like the dangerous negroes Adam Banks and Boyce Watkins. Because we put a picture of Ernie Davis on our website, this clearly proves that we only hate the “bad” black men, which therefore justifies our desire to ostracize young African American scholars and students who choose to challenge our historical educational paradigm.” In other words, it’s like respecting the father of a family, but dishonoring him by beating his child. I am not sure there is any respect or honor in that. Also, one should realize that by honoring Davis and Monk but dishonoring their African American counterparts and intellectual descendants, you are effectively engaging in the historical act of celebrating well-behaved black athletes while demeaning progressive black intellectuals. The same can be said for the administrator who pats Carmello Anthony on the back while deliberately separating Anthony from the African American student activists across campus.

But truth be told, Syracuse is not much different from many campuses across America. The reality is that Americans are limited in our ability to fight racism, because many of us can’t even define it. We end up swinging at ghosts in the wind, believing that a more expensive Martin Luther King Celebration, attacking hate groups or inviting speakers from the Civil Rights era is our path to racial cleansing. The truth is that in order to truly fight institutionalized racism, you must be willing to engage in the painful act of surgically decomposing the subtle biases of your social, academic and economic infrastructure like a doctor committed to fighting cancer. The cancer of historical racism festers among us and, in some ways, has the greatest impact on those who truly believe they’ve been cured. Ineffective fights against racism (like giving a cancer patient the wrong drugs) lead to deformed efforts to fulfill Dr. King’s Dream, thus turning the dream into an even greater and more elusive nightmare for those under the thumb of such oppression.

It is my hope that “The Express” will inspire us to get off the express train for racial equality. 400-year old habits die hard, and it takes more than 25 years of good intentions to correct them.

The Life and Times of the Administrative Negro

by Dr. Boyce Watkins

http://www.boycewatkins.net/

In case you wonder where I’ve been, I’ve been buried under a rock. I am not a political person, for I think that being tied to political machines can cause one to lose their sense of purpose in the world. Your choices become disconnected from your soul and more directly connected to the incentives of the institution around you. You find yourself doing all the wrong things for what you think are the right reasons, and then you realize that both your means and your ends are equally counter-productive.

I was not even very social or political as a child. I’ve never had a long list of meaningless friends, for that makes for a meaningless life. Rather, I was the child who sat in the corner just watching all the other kids interact. I watched the consequences of their choices, the limitations of their friendships and all the lessons in life we learn from the short-comings of our social environments. So, although I never wanted to get involved in politics (especially the petty politics of academia), I’ve always had the ability to understand it.

But I’ve been thinking about politics a lot lately, as I prepare my case for tenure here at Syracuse University. In spite of dedicating my life to my work (you’d be amazed at how bland my social life is), the battle is uphill because, quite frankly, Black professors don’t usually get tenure in predominantly White Business Schools. Even getting respect from Jesse Jackson, Cornel West and others means nothing to those who don’t even know who Cornel West actually is (and probably don’t care). But this process has taught me a lot about my campus, who does what, and who the “power brokers” are in higher level administration. Honestly, I never paid attention to these things, because I find that petty politics and meaningless measures of departmental esteem can slowly murder the academic’s ability to engage in purposeful intellectual leadership. I spend my time seeking truth, not trying to align myself with the most advantageous lie.

In my exploration, I was led to reflect on the life of what I call “The Administrative Negro”. Through my research in academic journals, I read about how many Black faculty like myself confront a consistent and predictable pattern of marginalization by their campuses: they are sent to “academic ghettos”, like African American Studies (a field I happen to respect very much - but this should not be our only academic option). They are also not invited to be a part of the true decision-making infrastructure of the campus. One of my mentors, the great Doris Wilkinson, a Sociology Professor who was invited to teach at Harvard during the summer, was also marginalized in the same way. Cornel West was marginalized at Harvard and told that his efforts to connect with his community were virtually worthless. A friend of mine who was close to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. described Dr. King’s marginalization and abandonment (by both whites and blacks) toward the end of his life. Dr. Ron Walters, one of my mentors at The University of Maryland, describes this as a “black tax” that many African American scholars pay at predominantly White Universities. Another respected colleague, Christopher Metzler at Georgetown, refers to it as “academic imperialism”, as Black scholars are told that the things that are most important to them are really not that important at all. All of this put things into perspective and helped me realize that I was in good company.

The granted role of The Administrative Negro (whether or not they choose to accept it), is to become a catalyst and legitimizing force in the “Out-of-Line Black Faculty” punishment process. The Administrative Negro can be used as a weapon for those seeking ways to undermine Black faculty who challenge institutionalized racism. After all, if a Black person attacks another Black person, then it CAN’T POSSIBLY be racist.

What is forgotten in this overseer-like transaction is that when The Administrative Negro is pressured into marginalizing someone that he/she might otherwise have little problem with, this individual is engaging in actions that don’t reflect the preferences that lie in his heart. This is sad, problematic and an artifact of slavery. Even Barack Obama is affected by this phenomenon, as he has been forced to denounce individuals he has loved for the past 30 years. In effect, the Jeremiah Wright-Barack Obama scenario is played out on campuses across America: someone that you might normally be friends with becomes your enemy because the powers that be have defined the other individual as dangerous and uncooperative. The campus works through the overseer to achieve its goals by saying “We’ll take care of you if you help us deal with him.” Even the writing of this article would likely lead to further marginalization from those who are simply made uncomfortable by free expression by people of color. Freedom of speech doesn’t really apply to Black scholars who are saying the wrong things.

I work about 15 hours a day, so I don’t take much time for “hanging out”. But I made an exception and went to a reception the other day to meet some of my colleagues. I wanted some of my associates to be able to separate the person from the persona. I wanted them to realize that I am a good human being and I care about doing what’s right for other people. I don’t hate the Black Administrators here at Syracuse, and I actually feel sorry for some of them. I feel that, deep in their hearts, they understand why I do what I do, and many of us end up trapped by our own ambition: we have a lion inside that wants to roar, but we are in a world where we are told to whimper. The conversation behind closed doors usually sounds like this: “You’re right about the racism, but they will fire you for bringing it up. You have to play the game!”

At the reception, one Black administrator asked me about a panel on which I was going to appear. She said “Now Boyce, please make sure that everyone else has a chance to talk!” I turned my head sideways, confused, because I didn’t recall the woman ever seeing me perform on a panel before. I asked her, “Have you ever seen me on a panel in the past?” The woman replied “No.” I then politely informed her that, contrary to what she might have heard through the rumor mills (I guess people talk about the guy who led to police having to scour the building in response to his death threats), I am typically the least talkative person on panels. I explained to the woman that when I arrive to speak, the attention is already thrust upon me. I don’t show disrespect to the esteem of the audience by hogging up the spotlight. Also, if you save your words on a panel, it maximizes the impact of what you have to say. I told the woman that “I talk far less than most people do. But the difference is that when it’s time to say something, I am not afraid to say what needs to be said.”

I wasn’t angry at this person, but again, I felt bad for her. Apparently, some administrator had told her things about me that were likely based on some rumor or media impression. Like pawns in a chess match, we’d been played against one another in a way that never would have occurred had she not been black. A potentially productive association between two African American colleagues had been turned into a divide-and-conquer by those who appoint the Administrative Overseers. It makes me sad, because if my campus had actually taken the time to get to know me, we could have had a very productive partnership. In spite of my “blackity-black – angry black man” reputation, the truth is that I grew up around more white people than Black and I am just as comfortable around either group. I am, however, uncomfortable living a lie, which leads me to be honest about institutionalized racial inequality. The problem is that most of us are too institutionalized to notice it, care about it or feel empowered to confront it.

Part of the job description of The Administrative Negro is that they should be afraid to be seen eating lunch with people like me. They are also instructed by their controllers and even each other to be afraid to take a stand on any issue that adversely affects African Americans (especially the poor – you should have seen the reaction I received when I suggested bringing in a Finance Speaker to talk about the real and disturbing Financial Incentives of the Prison Industrial Complex). They are afraid to work together to confront racial exclusion, such as the statistical and undeniable reality that many academic departments have gone over 100 years without granting tenure to a single person of color. They all experience and empirically document racism in the classroom, but are intimidated into not talking about it. We quietly accept it when our non-black colleagues send us away with our tails between our legs, telling us that our work in the Black community does not make us worthy of a position at their institution. We then sit at faculty meetings the following spring, as someone explains that there are no employees of color because Black people are simply unqualified. We thus become walking anecdotes for the research papers that cite how Black faculty marginalization occurs on predominantly white campuses, and why most Black students never have a Black professor unless they take a course in African American studies. So, rather than seizing the opportunity to make the world a better place, we create the same world over and over again. Dr. King’s dream will never be realized if we continue to remain asleep.

I never became a Black public scholar without knowing the consequences. Call me a cynic, but I’ve known to not expect people to be brave in a world where freedom isn’t free. I’ve never expected people to be loyal or to do the right thing. I’ve never expected academia to reward me for this kind of work and I’ve never expected to be anyone’s chairman, dean or provost. I’ve always known that the predominantly white media slaughters Black men like me, and that this kind of work might cost me my career or quite possibly even my life. I let go of my addictions to money and institutional status that keep many of us perpetually enslaved. I let go of the need to win any popularity contests.

As a result of these tradeoffs, I found myself very comfortable making the sacrifices that other people are afraid to make. Being an expert in Finance and risk-taking, I can say that I am no more courageous than anyone else. Sometimes, it’s not as much about being courageous as it is about putting yourself in a position where it is easy to take the risk you want to take. I also found that marginalization, while being a lost opportunity for my campus, was actually quite liberating. The marginalized faculty member is not worried about losing political points, and doesn’t care a whole lot about what other people think. So, in some ways, I was done a favor when I was rejected from the mainstream of academia, because I could then spend my life seeking truth. The greatest compliment I’ve ever received came from the daughter of the Great Syracuse alum Jim Brown, who said, “You are what my father would call a ‘free black man’”.

That was one of the greatest days of my life.

Here's What's Wrong with You Black People

Since everyone appears to be on the "black people have no personal responsibility" band wagon, I thought I would buy a ticket. I read some of the transcript from Senator Barack Obama's NAACP speech Monday, so I thought I would pick up the spoon and get myself a big fat dose of personal responsibility. After all, perhaps we should consider ourselves fortunate: We are the only group that presidential candidates visit and tell us all the things that are wrong with us. I should have figured it out long ago: everyone else is perfect, and we are just ficked up.

In fact, our fortune runs even deeper than we can imagine, since our presidential candidates have taken notes from the great Ronald Reagan and given us the privilege of looking past everyone else's flaws. We don't have to listen to our president lecturing white Americans on their 50% divorce and child abandonment rate: all that matters are the black men who don't get married. We don't have to listen to our presidential candidates talk about the hundreds of thousands of alcoholics, drug addicts and rapists being produced on college campuses every year: all that matters is that black men are the ones being sent to prison for drug possession. Finally, we don't have to listen to our president talk about how many conservative family politicians have been caught sleeping with every woman (or man, or little boy) on the block: all that matters is that black men need to keep their "thing" in their pants and black women need to stop opening their legs to every man who brings them a bag of Cheetos.

Nope: the personal responsibility speeches are all saved for us. I guess that's the benefit of being so pathetic. It's not like we don't need it. I saw several black boys on TV the other day getting arrested for stealing. I hate it when all those black boys steal. I mean, 100% of the black boys I saw on TV last week were stealing, which MUST mean that 100% of all black boys steal. The white kids I saw on the news were going to college. Why don't black men ever study like those kids? If it were not for the media, I wouldn't have a chance to see just how pathetic we all are. It's a national epidemic I tell you!

I really could use a speech on personal responsibility. Had it not been for my ability to manipulate the welfare system and get an extra check every month, I would never have been able to manipulate my way to a PhD. I am not sure how my trifling mama got a child into Cornell University, another in the Mayo Clinic and a third on the faculty at Syracuse University. If only that pathetic single black mother could have been more responsible. Perhaps then her children could have gone to Harvard like Senator Obama.

So, you black people, please listen: You need to simply accept the fact that you are screwed up and have no morals. Forget what everyone else is doing, your kids are lazy and worthless, and you've never learned the value of hard work in your lives. No, no, no. Stop mentioning all the corporate welfare that our government gives out every year to lobbyists, or the fact that millions of Americans (of all races) were begging for government welfare to save themselves from their mortgage crisis. That might be true, but this is about you: everyone else's government support is not the issue, it's not like you people pay taxes or anything. We would rather talk about the person I saw on The O'Reilly Factor last week who said that they get welfare so they can buy extra crack. See, like I said, black people have no morals.

The focus of this discussion is that if you you were not so weak and worthless, you would not have depression-era unemployment in your communities, we wouldn't have to pass you over for jobs and your black men would not be getting longer sentences for the same crimes. You think that America is being racist against you. Get a life. That racism excuse is old and tired. Everyone knows that racism doesn't exist. We support Bill O'Reilly and Sean Hannity because they are truly great Americans, unlike that afro-wearing loud mouth Jesse Jackson. It's not as if he's ever done anything important.

So, here's what I am trying to say to you people: Get off welfare and learn how to work. Stop whining about companies that haven't hired a black manager in 100 years. If you guys could actually do the job, then maybe they would give it to you. There is no reason to learn to love yourself, because who you are right now is pathetic. In fact, you don't even love your children, since you abandon them on street corners. If only you black people could learn to be as perfect as the rest of America, you might just be OK. Thanks Senator Obama, I needed to learn my place.

Iron Man, The NCAA and Self-Reliance: My Magical Trip to the Movies

I was in a good mood today, since I just went out to see the film "Iron Man", which was kick ass. I have alot in common with Iron Man, at least I want to think I
do. We are both overly idealistic in thinking that we can save the world, we are both over-educated and we both go into this crazy "mad scientist mode", where I work on my research and writing projects for weeks at a time. When I hit that mode, I am not good for much of anything: answering the phone, going out, whatever. I love it though, since I believe that if you love what you do, it really isn't work.

Since I was in a good mood, I thought I would reply to some email. First, I agreed to do an interview with a nice fellow from a sports website (http://www.bleacherreport.com/) that I hadn't heard of. But it appears that the site is pretty popular. We get the chance to talk about the NCAA and their double standards that led me to the continued black boycott against them for their exploitation of the African American community. I find it amazing that we can justify paying millions to coaches and then can't figure out why the mothers of the actual laborers don't also deserve a piece of the revenue. The NCAA is a horrific embarrassment to America: a professional sports league that has found excuses not to pay its employees. If I had a son, I would not allow him to play college basketball or football.

I also agreed to do an interview with Al Jazeera, an international network that actually does real news. Their audience is far larger than that of CNN from what I've gathered, since they are world-wide. They want to know the impact of having a black man for president. They also wanted to know more about my experience being a black scholar at Syracuse University and dealing with colleagues who don't care to understand the role of the black scholar in America. A brother I respect, Christopher Metzler, wrote an excellent piece on the topic. The piece hit home with me, since I'd just had a fight with one of my senior colleagues over the fact that he has reduced the significance of my work in the black community to my simply being a black version of Bill O'Reilly.

I am NOT a black Bill O'Reilly. Bill does what he does to make money. I do what I do because I want to fight for my people, many of whom are not in a position of strength in our society. Also, I explained to him that remaining silent about the black holocaust of the past 400 years as a precondition to our acceptance in White America is like asking Jews to remain silent about the Nazi Holocaust. A Jew who furiously fights Neo-Nazis and holocaust deniers is not simply a Jewish version of Hitler. Bill O'Reilly has casually joked about lynching Michelle Obama (among other things), and if he had casually joked about sending a Jewish leader to a concentration camp, he wouldn't be on the air for two seconds.

I encouraged my colleague to educate himself on the black experience. The truth is that there is a reason that many thousands of African Americans and black/latino alumni at my campus have written letters of support. It is time that academia learn that black scholarship is different, not inferior and deserves equal footing at the intellectual table.

At any rate, the last email I replied to was one from a man named Thomas. He asked me the following question:

What do you say to the people who say that conservatives make blacks more self-relient while liberals give them handouts and cause them to rely on the government?

Here is my response to Thomas

Good question:

1) I know alot of conservatives who look to their government for support: Corporations beg for subsidies, the pharmaceutical industry lobbies the government in order to get tariff protection for high priced drugs, Jews lobby the government for protection of Israel. I believe that the government is here to help all its citizens, not just the rich and powerful.

2) I have never been in favor of dependence. I teach self-reliance and personal responsibility via education, economic empowerment, self-respect and challenging our government to take personal responsibility for the atrocities of slavery, which exist all around us. It's no coincidence that most major corporations, universities and media are owned by whites. Those are the benefits of slavery. Unfortunately, there are those who gladly take the beneficial handouts that come from slavery, but don't want to take responsibility for the consequences.

What is interesting about teaching self-reliance in the black community is that you really can't "win for losing" (as they say). For example: if a person integrates himself into a corporation, attempts to assimilate and then demands that he/she is given the same opportunity for power as everyone else, they are called a whiner and co-dependent. But when they detach from the institution, form their own platform and do something that is truly independent, they are accused of hating white people.

I can't tell you how many times I've had someone email and say "Why did you create a website called YourBlackWorld? If I were to create YourWhiteWorld, I would be a racst." I simply tell them that YourWhiteWorld already exists in media: It's called CNN, MSNBC, and FOX.

I'm going to bed. It's 2:30 in the morning.