jennifer-roberts *This post does not intend to stereotype Black people or anyone else.
If you have ever taken a flight, you have undoubtedly heard the customary message from flight attendants that is part of the pre-flight safety instructions.
The message goes a little something like this, “ In the case of a change in cabin pressure, an oxygen mask will drop down from overhead. Make sure your mask is securely placed over your nose and mouth before assisting other passengers.”
These instructions may sound counterintuitive, but they are necessary for survival in the event of an inflight emergency. They are equally as vital for the survival of Black people in the United States who have been in a state of emergency ever since our feet unwillingly touched down on the shores of Virginia in 1619.
I’ve spent a lot of time over the past few years observing the way that we as Black people show up in the world and the way that we consistently show up for other people even at the expense of our own wellbeing. Black people consistently come to the aid of other communities who, like us, have been rejected, marginalized, and pushed to the fringes of society. We value community and understand the principle of Ujima which is rooted in collective work. Despite 400 years of oppression and subjugation that robbed us of our heritage we miraculously hold on to the remnants of what our ancestors imparted to us over many generations. We are fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers, not only to our own people but to others who need our help.
Black people serve, share, wait our turn and even let others cut the line, in a proverbial waiting room that has yet to call our collective number. From our seats, we watch, help and cheer for others who are consistently served ahead of us. I submit that we must stand up and focus more attention and energy on preserving our own wellness because as I have shared before, no one is coming to save us. We must be responsible for our own well-being. It’s not enough for us to simply survive, we must ensure that we thrive.
It is not selfish to secure our own wellness before helping other groups of people be well. However, what we have done far too often is delay or deny ourselves opportunities to serve ourselves, opting instead to serve others or to naively rely on others to help us after we have helped them. Will we ever accept that no one is interested in helping us to prosper? If someone or something was interested, “they” would have done it by now. We must take responsibility for our own success.
I am reminded of a story of a man in John chapter 5 who was healed by Jesus when he made a different choice about the fate of his wellbeing. The man was no stranger to the healing waters at the popular Pool of Bethesda as he had been crippled for 38 years. He had been waiting by the pool for a long time watching other people get into the water to be healed. When Jesus saw the man, He asked him, “Do you want to be made well?” Instead of answering Jesus’ question the man said, “Sir, I have no man to put me in the pool when the water is stirred up; but while I am coming, another steps down before me.” Jesus said to him, “Rise, take up your bed and walk.” And immediately the man was made well, took up his bed, and walked.
In this example, the man had been waiting for someone to help him access his healing. When Jesus encountered the man, He showed him that if he was willing to change his belief system about his condition and what he was able to do to help himself when an opportunity presented itself that he could be healed. And he was.
We, as Black people, are presented with multiple opportunities to put on our oxygen masks to preserve our wellness. But like the man in scripture, we have been waiting for years for someone or something to come along and put us in the proverbial pool, to put us in a position to advance economically, medically, educationally and the like. However, no one is checking for us so when opportunities present themselves (and they do) we must recognize them and swiftly choose to check what we believe about ourselves and about what we can do, get up and walk in our healing. We must choose to put our masks on first before we can even begin to take care of our neighbors.
I often reflect on the Brown vs. Board of Education Supreme Court decision that in 1954, forced schools in the United States to integrate. The ruling determined that separate schools for Black and White students were inherently unequal.
As a child who was part of first generation of fully integrated schools, I don’t think that was the most equitable choice for Black people. I was born in 1977 and have benefited from the sacrifices of my ancestors. I can enjoy freedoms in real life that only existed in their dreams. I do not claim to fully understand the level of racism that they endured for me to enjoy liberties. I have never been faced with the choices that they had to make simply to survive. However, I frequently wonder if there had been an alternative to integration, a third choice in which, instead of forcing White schools to admit Black students, the federal government demanded that Black schools be supplied with the resources that would have ensured that Black students have access to an equitable education. I wonder how history would have changed if Black schools had not closed and Black teachers were not fired in Black communities how that would have affected education in this country. I wonder how if Black students were not traumatized by angry White mobs when trying to access resources that were only available at White schools how the experience of Black people in this country might have been different. I wonder how the collective self-esteem of Black people might have been elevated if we weren’t lured into chasing Whiteness as a means of accessing success. This country has done a number on the minds and spirits of Black people and we in turn have turned on ourselves. While some Black people have recognized and walked in their power, we have yet to do so collectively, and I don’t know if we ever will.
So, what does putting on our oxygen mask look like? It looks like unapologetically taking responsibility for the education of our children. It looks like building affordable housing for our people. It looks like building businesses that directly benefit Black people. It looks like supporting HBCUs and sending our children and our dollars. It looks like training our students to not just secure a degree but to seek their purpose. It looks like introducing new ideas and products to the marketplace and not just being a consumer. It looks like investing and reinvesting in ourselves first. I do not believe that there is going to be a large, national force that is going to propel Black people. If the election of the first Black president 15 years ago didn’t do it, I don’t know what will. There is no easy or quick solution. I believe that it’s going to take micro-movements in all industries over generations for us to make consistent progress.
I believe that once we choose to put on our oxygen masks first, believe that we can rise and then start walking, living, building, educating and investing in ourselves, that is when we will be able to breathe a little easier. Once our masks are secure, and we are well, we can healthily turn to our neighbor and ask, “How may I help you?”
