Being a Black Man in AmeriKKKa Is the Real Pandemic

As I sit to write this, something weighs heavily on my heart. I just tried to watch the video of the shooting of Ahmaud Arbery. I tried, fighting back my tears the whole time, but could not finish it. It made me wonder when it will be safe to be black in America. I write with trepidation, being careful with every word and phrase I choose because there are sensitivities that I must consider when writing. Yes, I do know some friendly white people, but they might not be too friendly with me after this. I delicately strike each key, knowing each word must be selected with caution, knowing I will be celebrated, agreed with and acknowledged by my black friends and feared, flicked off, and met with contempt by my white friends. I know some well-meaning white folks who are in the trenches. They know, but they, too, lack understanding. There are some things in life that you cannot fully understand until you have lived them. I know white folks who will swear endlessly that they are not racist, but it still slips out from time to time. They do nothing to learn of other cultures or races because, in their America, they do not have to.

I know I run the risk of losing business, friends and income. I have always tiptoed this tightrope so that I could move in and out of diverse communities and not be seen as a threat. In my line of work, a black man who talks about diversity, inclusion and equity gets labeled as being angry. So I’ve learned how to make tough conversations easy by using a tapestry of humor, a big dose of personality and ample compassion. But now I want you to know that I have taken off the ballerina shoes, I will no longer walk the tightrope, I am going all in. Dr. King said, “If a man has not found something he is willing to die for, he is not fit to live.” And I do not face death, but merely the loss of money, influence and business. Let’s go. Oh, and as far as losing friends, if hearing the truth causes people not to be my friend, perhaps we were not friends from the beginning. Maybe our friendship was hidden behind their masks.

It amazes me how the narrative is always controlled by the people in power. For example, when a major corporation hires me to do diversity, inclusion and equity work, they often summon me with words like these: “Curtis, we prefer if you do not talk about race, because diversity is bigger than race. Feel free to talk about ageism, sexism, the LGBTQIA+ movement, ableism and so on, but we don’t have a problem with racism.” I am never shocked. Stunned, puzzled, bewildered maybe, but never shocked. This is because the issues they have laid out, the ones their company 'actually' faces, are all in fact racial at heart. And they fool themselves into thinking that if they do not talk about race, there will be no racism. I tell them the only Civil War that I know of in this country was fought over race.

One time at a college event, a professor came up to me right after I came off stage and said, “Curtis, the reason why good old white folks do not want you to talk about race is because they can see themselves in every other marginalized group except people of color.” I am in no way diminishing the struggles of any other marginalized group, but to be born black in America is a disease from which the color of my skin will not let me escape. I explain to them that not talking about race is like getting an electric bill, placing it in the drawer, and ignoring it. Ignoring it is only going to make the problem worse; eventually, the lights will shut off. He or she who controls the narrative writes the story.

As a businessman, I go by the old adage the client is always right. If they want a glossed-over presentation of a false reality that will not impact the real issues of their organization, I will gladly help. But this is my narrative to control, this is my story, one that I want to tell without limitations. If I were a boxer, I would be taking the gloves off; if I were a reporter, this would be off the record; if I were a basketball player, I would leave it all on the field. But since I’m a speaker, educator and trainer, I will leave you with these words.

“Curtis, if you are riding down the street and the police pull you over, here's what I want you to know. The first thing you must understand is that you don’t have any rights and that 'DWB' (driving while black) is a crime. Am I making myself clear? Roll down your window before you pull over. You want your hands to be visible at all times. Once you stop, hold your arms out the window; keep them on the dashboard or the steering wheel, but they must be visible at all times. As the officer is approaching, make sure you're listening and paying attention, and that is no guarantee. He should ask you for your license and registration. Don't reach for them right away; first, tell the officer where your wallet and registration are. Preface that with 'sir' or 'officer.' Don't make any sudden movements because this will be seen as a threat. Never ask, 'What am I being pulled over for?'; that's none of your business. After you give the officer your license and registration and he walks back to the car, this is not a time to relax; keep your hands visible. More than likely you'll be given a ticket, but it's okay. Thank the officer, ask for permission to pull off, and do so very cautiously. When you're able to drive off with your ticket you have won. The goal was not to get a ticket, it is to not die.” Thanks, Dad.

If you have not heard a speech like this, consider yourself lucky. That means that perhaps you were born white in America or in a community of color that was insulated from the norms of society. To be honest, I don’t know whether black women have heard these rules because there is no ransom on their heads. I am more afraid of my sons being killed at the hands of a white police officer, or any white man with a gun than I am of them dying due to the coronavirus.

My aunt Jessie, who turns 86 this year and was raised in the Confederate South, told me when I was growing up that the white man was the law. My father, who also grew up in the segregated South, raised me to remember that the white man is always right. I was taught these lessons right along with my ABCs; little did I know that they were giving me lessons from when they were children that I would have to teach my own children, and, if things continue along this path, that they would have to teach their children.

Which America Do You Live in?

In one America, white men and women can storm their states' capitol buildings with guns, rage and threats and nothing happens. It is their constitutional right under the Second Amendment to bear arms. We even have a President who tweets things like "The Governor of Michigan should give a little, and put out the fire," or "These are very good people, but they are angry. They want their lives back again, safely! See them, talk to them, make a deal." Good people? They were toting Confederate flags, swastikas and nooses. Where else but America can people openly carry this many symbols of racism, war, violence and total disregard for a group of people and still be considered “good people”? Good people do not push an agenda of hatred, disrespect their neighbors or try to impose their will on others. How can white men and women carry semi- and fully-automatic weapons in public and still seen as “good people”?

Meanwhile, in another America, an unarmed black man named Ahmaud Arbery is shot while jogging and not a text, tweet or post by the President. “JWB” (jogging while black) is a new term I must teach my children. But we might as well cover the full gamut: “SDWB” (social distancing while black), in which New York police beat a black man for failing to adhere to social distancing rules. While they passed out masks and gloves to the white people who violated the rules. We even have “SWB” (shopping while black), in which State Rep. Kambium Buckner was stopped by police and demanded to show proof of purchase. I almost forgot “RWB” (resting while black), when police barged into black people’s homes and killed them for no reason at all. Or “AFHWB” (asking for help while black); after a car crash, an injured black man asked for help, so bystanders called the police and they shot him twelve times. Which America do you live in?

Do you live in the America where you fear for your life every time you see a cop, or do you regard them as friends? Do you live in an America where you involuntarily hold your breath when you see flashing lights behind you? One night I landed at Philadelphia International Airport and it was after midnight, but I was determined to get a Philly cheesesteak. I was so hungry that when I got my sandwich, I got back in my rental car, started it up, and drove off while eating. I went about a block, then I saw the lights. Daddy, I followed the rules; I put the sandwich down, and while I was pulling over, I rolled down the window. As the car rolled to a stop, I put my hands outside the window. The officer came to the car and asked, “What's going on?” I responded, “I just don’t want to die tonight.” He asked me what I was doing in that part of town, and I replied that I was getting a Philly cheesesteak. Then he asked, "Do you know why I stopped you?" and, of course, I said, "No, sir" (as he approached, I could see that I was older than him by about fifteen years, but 'sir' was still how I was trained). He said, "I stopped you because your light was out. What are you doing in Philadelphia?" I explained that I was a speaker and had just flown in and was super hungry, so I had come there to eat. He said if everything checked out, he would let me go with a warning.

As I sat in the car with my hands as visible as they could be at midnight, I prayed that everything would check out all right. I knew the car was not stolen, I knew my license was valid and I knew I had not committed a crime. But neither had Mike Brown, an innocent black man who was shot 28 times by a police officer. Or how about Eric Garner, who was choked to death at the hands of the police? Shall I mention Philando Castile, who was shot in front of his four-year-old daughter by a cop? So even having all of your documents and not doing anything wrong is no guarantee that you will not be killed at the hands of white men if you are a black male in America. There is not space and time to list all the unarmed, non-threatening black men who have been murdered by white men in this country. The sad truth is, the killers don’t even have to be police officers – the verdicts come back the same, because of the inexpiable truth taught to me by my eighty-seven-year-old aunt, “The white man is the law.” We are like sheep led to the slaughter. We are in line and we know our time is coming; we just don’t know when.

I can already hear some readers claiming that Curtis Hill, diversity speaker, is against the police. This is not an attack nor an assault on the police. Curtis Hill is against the killing of unarmed black men because he has three sons and two grandsons who will one day grow up to be unarmed black men. Continue your movements on Blue Lives Matter; it is just an attempt to nullify and eradicate the lives of black people.

What Did He Do Wrong?

As we people of color, blacks in particular, watch and read these stories, it is with pain, disgust and sadness. There is a level of fed-upness that people beyond our race cannot fathom. We are physically, mentally and emotionally drained. We carry within us a flood of outrage that has been suppressed since the days of slavery. But this new racism and oppression are by far worse than the oppression of yesteryear. This institutionalized racism is more nuanced, more sophisticated and even more dangerous than the racism of the past. It is the trading of white sheets for white seats. We are at our tipping point. I recall the words of the late great Michael Jackson, “All I want to say is that they don’t really care about us.” While we once again brittle our tongues and fight down our emotions, there is a segment of people who can see the same stories we see, stories of people like Ahmaud Arbery, and wonder, “What did he do wrong?” It is the firm belief of white America that when an unarmed black man is shot and killed, he must have done something wrong. So they sit back and wait for the backstory to come out. When such a logical explanation fails to emerge, and instead, video surfaces that shows the entire altercation in its simple, ugly truth, even then it is not real to them. They say that was one bad cop, and that we shouldn't judge all cops by the actions of one. Excuse me, but what was stop and frisk? They don’t get it, simply because it never happens to their fathers, sons, brothers, uncles or cousins. They live in an America where people are given the benefit of the doubt, where they are innocent until proven guilty.

One day, I was talking to a few colleagues. Whom I thought really knew me. To set the scene, all three were female. Two of them were biracial; one is African American and Caucasian (no children), the other is African American and Puerto Rican (four children). The third lady is full Caucasian and has three children. I have always brought my son around, and all of the women know who he is. They often tell me how well-mannered and respectful he is for a middle school kid. I began to share a story with them about something that happened to him. As he was getting out of school one day, a couple of high school boys began to chase him and two of his friends. The two biracial women gasped for breath. At the same moment, the white woman looked at me and asked, “What did he do?” For clarity's sake, I asked, “Do you mean if he ran or not?” She said, “No, he had to do something for people to chase him…” Now that shocked me! What did she mean, 'do something'? Then I realized which America I was living in. One where little black boys grow up to become black men, but along the way the presumption of innocence is not afforded to them. This is the America that looks for opportunities to justify the wrongdoing of white men and demoralizes the innocence of a black one.

What did he do wrong? He was born black in America. He was born at a time where we cannot talk about race because it will hurt white people's feelings. He was raised during a pandemic: the execution and hatred of the black male. What did he do wrong? Shouldn’t we as a nation be asking that question of the police officers who kill black men?

One Nation Under God

White nation under God indivisible with liberty and justice for whites!!! How can you ask that we pledge our allegiance to a flag that refuses to pledge any allegiance to us?  As a nation, we were fragile before COVID-19. We are experiencing something that we have never seen in our lifetime and hopefully will never see again. Flattening the curve is our nation’s most important concern; I just hope that we do not flatten our humanity as well. We are wearing masks and taking steps to reopen our nation just to rejuvenate the economy. We are fighting a virus that we cannot see, smell, taste, touch or hear. Yes, this pandemic is impacting our nation. It is leaving a death toll of unprecedented proportions. But I would rather take my chances with coronavirus than an armed white man. I have a chance to fight off corona, but I am not too sure about the latter. When this pandemic is over, people will remove their masks from their faces, but I cannot remove my skin. I’d rather they kept their faces covered and removed the masks from their hearts.

Where is the five-step phased plan to bring justice for black men? We hear no guilty verdict for their killers. We are fed up. We have had it up to our noses with excuses. First, the tapes are hidden or lost, then when they come out, they want us to believe it is not what we think, that the police officer feared for his or her life. On July 18, 2016, Charles Kinsey was shot while lying on the ground with his hands in the air. The officer who shot him was found not guilty. It was not Kinsey's behavior that made this officer afraid, and it was not that Kinsey had a weapon. The only other thing that could have made the police officer fear for his life was Charles Kinsey's skin color. Unlike coronavirus, you can see, touch and feel us. But you really don’t feel us, you fear us.

Why don’t you demand justice for unarmed black men like you do when black men fight dogs? You care more about dogs, cats, and whales than you do about black men. Demand justice for black men killed by the police like you do when a black man takes a knee for the national anthem. Rally behind the innocent blood of black men being shed like you do when people cut down the rainforest. Pressure your state legislators to reopen these cases like you are doing for them to reopen the economy. March for the children of these black men like you marched to keep the Confederate statues.

I cannot see this as one nation under God. This is a nation that will continue to wear a mask long after the virus is gone. As I continue to stroke these keys, no, I am not angry or aggressive; I’m just taking a proverbial knee. So maybe I will lose my chance to lead conferences and conduct trainings, workshops and seminars, but like Colin Kaepernick, Muhammad Ali, Jim Brown, and Dr. King, I’m writing my own narrative. Being a black man in AmeiKKKa is the true pandemic.