BLACK WORTHH?

It is not the color of our WORTHH but the quality of our personal, individual, collective, and collaborative resilience.

?This week, an incident with a potential client prompted me to revisit my concept of Black WORTHH and what it signifies to me. For me, Black WORTHH means acknowledging that as part of the human race, we are [Warded Ownership Rights Through a History of Hardships], and we must do better to claim our Ownership Rights in spite of systemic racist obstacles. Similarly, Women’s WORTHH represents the struggles women have gone through to attain ownership rights, while Jewish WORTHH embodies the hardships endured by Jewish survivors and their families to claim their ownership rights. And for the LGBQ+ community, WORTHH is about toiling through a history of obstacles to claim ownership rights within LGBTQIA+ communities. In other words, as passengers of WORTH. Yes, we are all [Warded Ownership Rights Through Hardships. Whenever we become the collective of any attempt of expression to claim, defend, or resist, we strive to represent the quality of our WORTHH, which is the inalienable right of every individual in every community.

?My potential client was black. I spent bonding time with this person, lending my talents, skills, and services as it is my A.S. Methodology (Actual Service Methodology of contributing value to others. For a minute, I imagined how success with that client’s project would positively impact Black communities worldwide.

?However, as I listened to this project owner’s attempts at reducing my WORTH, I felt frustrated, angry, and resentful. I ended the relationship when I could endure no more slighting. But the obvious bothered me where I lived: How could so many of us feel that we do not deserve more than we have, and when more is offered, why are we so quick to resent the offeror?

?When all fails, write. But what should I write about? Once I had managed my resentment, I felt compelled to ask and answer this question: Is Black Culture Dying or Dead? The following is my extended answer to the fluidity of a rich, resilient history often spoilt by a few bad apples.

?I was twelve when I left my birth country, Trinidad. Destination New York City, Laurelton, Queens, 232nd Street. I was Black, Nigger, Red nigger, and Brown skin in this new world of plenty. I have traveled and lived in a few countries, so I have learned to accept the reality of being black everywhere I go, especially what being Black means to different people in different parts of the world.

?Blackness is a complicated claim with one constant result, struggle. So, I will not attempt to address Blackness here. On a united level, as a global community, Black culture is the amalgamation of experiences, traditions, and values that have become an acceptable warding of ownership rights through a history of hardships from across the African diaspora.

?From our music, art, literature, and fashion to the social, political, and economic movements that have shaped the world, Black culture is a force that has transcended borders and brought people together in spite of our differences. If you look Black, you probably know that you are Black. And if you don’t look Black and you are Black, well, you know that you are Black.

?However, in today’s rapidly adjusting world, the question arises as to whether Black culture can still be considered a relevant force or if it has become a victim of a globalized, liquid culture that values diversity over WORTHH and tradition. The Polish sociologist Zygmunt Bauman introduced the concept of “solid” and “liquid” culture. According to Bauman, solid culture refers to a society with a strong sense of community and collective memory and where traditions and cultural practices are deeply ingrained. On the other hand, liquid culture refers to a constantly changing and evolving society where cultural practices and expressions are fluid and adaptable.

?Living in the U.S. at that impressionable age, I quickly learned about the Black experience, which vexed my core for many years. “African American culture is a culture of survival,” notes writer and activist Bell Hooks. “Black culture, despite everything, is one of the most dynamic cultures in the world. It’s a culture that continually adapts to circumstances.”

?But the history of Black culture is far older and more complex than just the Black American experience. From the Yoruba religion of West Africa to the remaining maroon communities of the Caribbean and the Americas, Black culture has a rich and varied history shaped by centuries of migration, colonialism, and resistance against the claim that we should not be like us. Oh yes, we are not like any other race — not superior or inferior, for there are no such people; there are only inferior and superior systems designed to oppress, enslave, and extract wealth from our WORTHH, as we are designed to resist them all.

?“A people without knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots.” — Stokely Carmichael.

?The first Caribbean slave rebellion in Haiti in 1791 was a turning point in the struggle against slavery and colonialism, inspiring a wave of resistance throughout the region. “The revolution in Haiti was the most thorough, complete and successful revolution against slavery in modern times. It was carried out by slaves who knew, through the history of Haiti, that freedom was impossible without the abolition of slavery.” — Eric Williams, “From Columbus to Castro: The History of the Caribbean 1492–1969.”

?“The Caribbean is a place of great cultural richness, where the influences of Africa, Europe, and the indigenous peoples have come together to create something unique and beautiful.” — Earl Lovelace, “The Dragon Can’t Dance.”

?In places where beauty is compelled to be concealed and pain is subdued beneath the weight of oppression and brutality, there exists a nurturing of innate talents and abilities. Here, greater purpose ignites light from the depths of our hearts and minds, giving way to expression that resonates beyond ourselves. For creators, art is a form of liberation, a means of bringing forth beauty, and oftentimes, an expression worth dying for.

?Calypso music and the steelpan of Trinidad and Tobago, and reggae music’s emergence in Jamaica, all embody the resistance against colonialism and oppression. These art forms have played a crucial role in Black culture’s history and continue to be powerful and accessible forms of expression.

?Art is the freedom of the soul, and it has the power to mend, inspire, and bring light to even the darkest of moments. Bob Marley’s music reflected the struggles and aspirations of the Jamaican people, as well as a powerful call for global solidarity and unity. “Music has always been a powerful tool for resistance and liberation.” Angela Davis’s words as a supporter of the Black Arts Movement, which sought to use art and culture as a means of political expression and empowerment for Black people.

?Let us never forget the struggles of those who came before us and the beauty of their creations. May we keep their legacies alive and honor them by using art to create a better world.

?Despite White globalization and cultural appropriation challenges, Black culture remains a vibrant and dynamic force in the world. From the high-energy beats of Soca to the soulful Afrobeat tunes from Nigeria, the ever-present flow of reggae music from Jamaica, and the captivating fusion of sight and sound that is Hip-Hop music. The enduring power of Black culture continues to inspire and influence people around the globe. Our collective strengths as Black individuals remain a constant reminder of the irreversible warding of ownership rights through a history of hardships that is our heritage.

?“I think sometimes we talk about diversity as if it’s something that needs to be learned, or as if it’s something that we need to be educated about. But the truth is that diversity is something that we all already have. We are all born into different cultures, different languages, different religions, different experiences. And that’s what makes our stories so unique and so beautiful.” — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, “The Danger of a Single Story.”

?So, is Black culture dying or dead? Absolutely not. Black WORTHH is among the wealthiest value in the world. It is WORTHH birthed into the land; WORTHH in the blood of its people; WORTHH enslaved, beaten, raped, castrated, burned, and murdered. We are the WORTHH of many nations’ wealth, embodying a resilient history that has persisted and evolved over centuries and continents. Black culture is a force to be reckoned with, shaping and influencing global culture while remaining deeply connected to its community as a collective memory of hope, faith, and attainable purposes. Its fluidity and adaptability reflect its strength, #OUS #OurUnitedStrengths.