We Wear the Mask: Ode to Dunbar

The most fervent Barack Obama supporter I know literally shoved a rubber mask of the Senator from Illinois into my arms yesterday at our kids' playground.

His rationale for bestowing it upon me: it felt rather 'suffocating'.

Given this cat's fanaticism for the front-running Presidential candidate, I'd have expected him to at least hold onto the novelty item for posterity's sake. And since I've slacked on the donation tip to the campaign, the urge to return it to him tugs at me.

But first I'll wear it and try not to hyper-ventilate for a few obligatory snapshots during the apres trick-or-treat shin dig we're hosting for close friends and their chittlins.

I suspect I won't be the only one who wraps the Obama mask on and mugs for the camera. Our anticipation's running high, after all. And we're mixing Bloody Marys in equal proportion to the Gel-O worm cups for dessert.

Except for that one guy who flaunts his Obama-mania on his "statement" shirt sleeves, this will be a gathering of folks who keep their true election night longings to themselves.

For better or worse, for the most part, we're not the types that will make wig-pullin' cameos on Action News the morning after. In professional settings, we'll contain our glee if he wins. At home with our kids, we'll fake brave faces if he loses.

Which brings me back to words written a century ago by Paul Laurence Dunbar; the son of an escaped slave who changed a chunk of his world's mindset from his home base in the 'swing state' of Ohio.


VIDEO: YOUTUBE

With all credit due (Citadel Press, 1993), Dunbar wrote:

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, _
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

(Go buy your own copy for the stirring, still-relevant remarks between THAT and this...)

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!

Thanks, eternally PLB.

This won't be the last Halloween I think of you.

For additional perspectives, view this post I found on theroot.com...
http://www.theroot.com/id/48627

Shame on us, Tysheema

Stevie Wonder ought to write a song or, better yet, a symphony about this Brown woman from the northeast suburbs of Atlanta who, reportedly, tried to abandon her son at a Nevada hospital, and wash her hands of him.

How sad a state have we reached when a 12-year-old black boy's mother claims she has no other choice but to drive him 1,000 miles away, and then burn rubber, for his own good? Doesn't this dilemma speak volumes about how detached we've become from the touchstones of "village" existence when any male child can be cast off so early in life?


VIDEO: YOUTUBE

Other than being the son of an unwed mother amid conditions that contribute in precious few ways to his potential success as a productive member of society, what could a boy like that have done so wrong (or been incapable of stopping himself from doing)?

This isn't to cast total blame here on any mother who falls so harshly on the fringe of frustration. Nor can we deny how hip-hop media has coaxed our youth down a path of abject poverty of the spirit and disconnect from right vs. wrong principles.

But if an incident like this doesn't prompt more concerned black men to actively attempt to teach by example, the future may as well be marked "delete".