Insert rhrthmic clapping here...

Routinely, I rush home from my Monday 3-to-midnight shift to shake the world off and muffle my giggles at the latest episode of "The Boondocks".

What had me laughing the most at it tonight wasn't any one of the three warped portrayals of a mythical slave named Catcher (Catcha?) Freeman.

I'm still chuckling about the crude song that playing through the show's closing credits.

It went something like (sung acapella, mournful, gravely)

"clap clap clap clap
get our black asses out a' heeeeeeeeere!!

clap clap clap
won't get our black asses out a' heeeeeeere!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

clap clap clap
we sick of these shacklessssss!!!!!!!
we sick of these crackersssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

clap
just get our black asses outta hereeeeeeeee!!!!!!

Not sure I got the exact wording right. But you get the gist.

And what a profoundly simple and sarcasstic parody of those ol' Negro spirituals (which I treasure) and their plaintiff honesty.

All that our ancestors asked for themselves and their babies was freedom.

Singing simple songs _ when learnic to read lyrics was punishable by death _ helped them get over.

That sitcom got me thinking,. Again.

The average Black boy's concept of what slavery might/must have been like has to be so skewed nowadays it's absurd. Right?

You don't see any news of Black achievement (outside of sports or record sales) from as far back as three days ago being widely broadcast anywherer? Do you?

Asking a kid to wrap his head fully around the whole "slavery" concept won't be easy.

So what's the right way to say, 'Look. This is how they treat us," without coming off beaten, bowed or bitter?

Do you pick the scabs or let them be?

He's either going to be being taught thoroughly and thoughtfully about it, or he's not.

And if we're not properly impressing what slavery "means" on these 7th, 8th and 9th generations removed from its horrific lessons, will the 10th generation "remember" them at all?

Pause here. Go listen to Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley's "Confrontation" from his profound newest disc. Hone in on the declarations by Marcus Garvey mixed in.

That guy had a way with words.


I only bring all that up because there's going to come a time when I have to speak frankly, frequently about slavery with my son. The questions will come out of NOWHERE.

They'll make me wonder things I hadn't fully grasped myself.

Here's the comic irony: all three cartoon interpretations of the mythical slave-freer's center around a house negro who could care less about the field folk ('cept for that high=yalla temptress Jasmine Dupree) and could think of nothing more than having his "Massa" help him get his screenplay produced.

And here I am, spouting off simply for the sake of spurring conversation. That and trying to inspire more writing and filming and conversing about improving our sons' prospects.

Then again: maybe the ones who relied heavily on sad spirituals to get by deserve an echo.