I don’t know when exactly in my preteen years I read the Autobiography of Malcolm X initially, but it flipped my wig the second time I read it in my late teens. The world began to make sense. To be honest, I hated White people early on because of omnipresent imagery documenting the sadistic treatment of so many Fathers of Fathers before this nation was truly civilized. Remember, Roots affected Blacks like all get out in a way only Rosewood would hit me later. Malcolm gave my conscience a gun with a full clip. A defiant gun shouting down anyone patronizing the thoughts of my people with dismissive words just to appease their own solemn inferiority complex. When I read the epilogue a third time, his conversion to Orthodox Islam soothed my rage just enough to make sense of what the hell was going on around me as I entered my twenties. The relationships I built in high school with Whites gave me a new perspective more rounded in the genuine minds of others. This quote from Malcolm is how I would best describe where I am today: “We have to keep in mind at all times that we are not fighting for integration, nor are we fighting for separation. We are fighting for recognition as free humans in this society”.
Paul Robeson was the other.
What is your Favorite Book?