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PRESUMPTION OF ENTITLEMENT
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Anita Marie Colbert
Bear with me, as I have written, and re-written this particular article several times. Each time I felt that I had said what I needed to say, and then I would then rethink it, amend it, start tinkling around with my wording, and wondering over and over again if my message would get across. It is most important to me to encourage Black people, in particular, to think about this particular issue. Most important to me. So, with that thought in mind, ponder this. Have you ever wondered how some people have assumed their sense of right to take for granted various attitudes, behaviors, styles, and mannerisms, etc., in society? How that, which some appear to feel comfortable saying or doing, is apparently quite uncomfortable for others? For the longest time, I wrestled with the unsettled feeling of being un-entitled, unqualified and un-allowed. Had I bought into a legacy of low self esteem and a lack of self confidence that so many Black people apparently feel? I often wondered why I felt this difference in attitude; and I questioned why that ingrained sense of privilege that some seemed so comfortable with, eluded me. In my ongoing, unrelenting search for understanding of so many things in this life, I have come to understand one thing; Some people have a presumption of entitlement. A sense of owning and being owed their sense of self, attitudes, and feelings. That which I had been taught or perhaps intuited was not my place, was indeed their place. From birth.
It had been my belief that this apparent lack of a sense of entitlement for some, could be answered by simply using racism as the reason. After all, slavery sure began a belief system in Blacks that they were not entitled, not allowed, and surely different. But I also felt that without doubt there were many cases of inequality between the races, an ongoing and ignorant stereotyping of many races of people, and therefore I knew that it wasn’t only affecting Blacks. Some people did seem to be treated in a more humane way. Some apparently were virtually guaranteed a life free of obvious strife based on their heritage. But I also believed that a knowing of who you were was about more than race. I thought of it as an enlightened state of being. A knowledge and understanding that there is a force in our soul that commands us to be here – and entitles us all to be here.
As I spoke to a very intelligent doctor of psychology one day, and asked her opinion of how the Jewish population appeared to have bounced back from the horror of the Holocaust, and continued to be a financially powerful, politically involved and highly educated motivated people, in spite of the horror of the Holocaust. Her answer made me stop and think. She, a Black woman who obviously had (shamefully on my part) a more indepth knowledge of Black history than I, spoke of the Middle Passage and the psychological affect slavery had on the Black population; which still affects the Black population to this very day. European Jews were taken, not betrayed by their own. She spoke of the breaking up of the African family unit, which psychologically leaves us leaderless within ourselves, and feeling unwanted and uncared for. We were brought to a country where we knew nothing, and taught what was needed for the benefit of others. She spoke of ten generations of slavery that continually broke down the very spirit of Blacks because it was an unending siege of hurt, pain and unanswered prayers. Being sold by our very own brethren was the beginning of a sense of self-betrayal that would indeed follow us to this very day, and as we can see, it has. The beating of young Black males by older Blacks because their rebellion would cause problems on plantations. The lighter complexioned children being borne by slave wives of slave husbands, knowing that this was not a child they had impregnated their wives with had to be unthinkably painful. Now, I am no historian. And, I do not pretend to be one. I do, however trust in her knowledge about the Middle Passage and went on-line to find out more. Needless to say, I was sickened at what I read. I do not pretend to have ALL the facts, and I would allow that I may have appeared to minimize, quite unintentionally, the Holocaust - but after listening to her explanation of what really happened to Blacks, I was made to sit back and think more deeply about why we are where we are today. And, I am glad that I did. It made me feel shame for the anger I felt when I thought we could do so much better. I used to say to myself, “What the hell is wrong with us?” Well, what is wrong, I believe, is an unwillingness to address our pain – and what some refer to as Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome. The painful history, and sadly continuing legacy of slavery has left scars that are so deeply psychologically rooted in the psyches of some of us, that until we come to terms with and face down the pain - we are doomed to continue to feel the never-ending shame of unworthiness, invalidity and consequently, no sense of self or right of self.
If we could begin today to think of each Black face we see as having an ancestor who undoubtedly had an experience with the pain and shame of slavery – it would be a beginning of compassion and love for each other. One of the saddest things I witnessed on television was a program that profiled Black children who were high achievers in their schools. They were in the Debate Clubs, Chess Clubs, etc., But, they had problems with not only their peers because of their intelligence, but sadly they also had problems with their own family members. One young man said that if he spoke intelligently or knowledgeably in front of his grandmother, she would yell, “Don’t you be talking to me like no White boy – don’t you sass me with that White talk.” I shook my head because I realized that his entitlement to use the English language in a correct form was denied him because it scared his grandmother. Discussing what he learned that day that amazed and strengthened him, made her feel minimized and unintelligent, and hence, he had to suffer for it. This is not an isolated situation. It happens in our inner-city schools every day, it happens to the quiet Black girl or young man who feels differently than the status quo. And, if you are not strong and self-confident (which by the way, we don’t teach our children by example – cause if we did, I would have no need to write this article) you will suffer for it.
I am 54 years of age now. And, I stand in apology to my brethren for not sooner understanding why we have fared so poorly. I write because I need to write. I need to express my thoughts and hopefully they will be felt, shared and thought about by others. I do possess a presumption of entitlement, and I intend to presume my rightful place in this world, and help others feel that same right as long as I am alive. I speak of love, self-respect and dignity. Now that I realize why we Blacks are where we are – I try to accept the many who are still struggling and have compassion for them without prejudice of any kind. I can see so much pain in the faces of some of my sisters and brothers at times. And, now I say, “God please help them find peace.” To face a history of pain, and look directly into the sadness without fear strengthens me. I want us all to feel our collective strength and courage in still existing after the vileness of our past lives, and those of our ancestors. I share this with you as words to soothe your soul. We have come far, and we can come farther as long as we know where we are going, and where we have been. One God, One Love.
June
2005
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Anita Colbert is a freelance writer living in Queens, New York. She is working on a series of essays that concern highly sensitive individuals, and is particularly interested in the study of behavioral psychology in general, and in particular, how it impacts on the lives of Blacks in this country. She can be reached at anita_colbert@Hotmail.com.
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