"LET US PLAY THE MEN" or "How To Make Our Black Male Youth Stop Sagging Their Pants"

BY HERU BAR-CHANAN

NOTE: Beware of the new "Anti-Sagging" laws that are being passed in cities around America (supposedly) just to get our boys, and Young Men, to stop sagging their pants. Think before you endorse this solution. Such laws set a legal precedent that can open the door to the revival of Jim Crow-type laws that will be aimed at our youth first and then at other Black Americans. This is a very real possibility and a very real danger. Let us be vigilant and realize that it behooves us to solve the problem of sagging pants, and misbehaving youth, ourselves. It is the responsibility of mature American Black Men, not "Anti-Sagging" laws, to get our boys, and Young Men, to pull their pants up and act right.

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Be of good courage, and let us play the men for our people, and for the cities of our God: and the LORD do that which seemeth him good.

2 Samuel 10:12

Our Black Male Youth need Mature, Upright, American Black Men, to move among them in the community, as a Positive Patriarchal Presence that:

1) models the appropriate behavior that we want to see in our Young Men;

2) reaches out to our Black Male Youth in a strong, loving, creative, way that is becoming of mature Men (not fellow homies); and,

3) intervenes with sound answers, and solid solutions, when our Black Male Youth have questions or when they need help solving their problems. 

This is imperative if we are to optimize the influence of our youth on the Global Culture and help them to be productive members of society. This has grave implications for the employment of our youth, as lack of Patriarchal guidance renders too many unprepared to take advantage of opportunities to contribute to the workforce. For instance, some potential employers decide not to hire some of our Young Men on sight (perhaps rightly so) simply because they walk into their establishment with their pants sagging. Some lower pay-scale establishments hire them anyway and sacrifice the professionalism, and decorum, of their establishment. I'm sure you've seen the sullen fast food worker with the dirty uniform and the sagging pants. There was a time when young American Black Men wore their work uniforms with pride, and a smile, no matter what kind of job they had. Somehow, in this Generation, our youth have lost their sense of propriety. We can do better than this; and, we must. If mature Black Men impact our Young Men, our Young Men will influence the boys who look up to them. They, in turn, will influence the boys who come up behind them when they become Young Men. This may just make the difference that nudges some of our Young Men onto the path of being Professionals and Entrepreneurs.

I commute on the COTA Bus, in Columbus, Ohio, on a regular basis. This is a strategy that I picked up over half a lifetime ago, in the late 1980s, as a student at The Ohio State University, to beat the campus parking lot drama, continuing in the 2000s as a community college Instructor. I fondly refer to the COTA Bus as the "Public Limousine Service."  The COTA Bus is also like a theatre on wheels. My regular commutes on public transportation help me to keep my finger on the pulse of the People in the Community, as I observe the behavior of the youth and listen to interesting conversations, and debates, between the adults. On a number of occasions, I have had to break up fights between young people. The girl fights are the worst. I also, on occasion, have the opportunity  to get youngsters interested in going to college.

The commuters who ride the COTA Bus are the real-life people who University students theorize about in the classroom. They are the so-called masses who the wannabe militant Blacker-than-Black student-activists romanticize about. The commuters on the inner city COTA bus lines are the true Community Theatre Players who daily act out the simple, and complex, roles of God's Chosen People in a modern-day stage version of the 'Souls of Black Folk.' 

Awhile back, during a commute home from downtown, on a (then) Northbound #1 Livingston Avenue-to-Cleveland Avenue bus, I overheard some Black American adults commenting on some rowdy, pants-sagging, Black male youth who had just gotten off the bus. This discussion morphed into an intense debate about the problem of the poor behavior of some of our male, and female, youth around the city. Someone noted that the youth in other countries are imitating Black American Youth. The commuters ended up debating about the causes of our present cultural, and spiritual, disaster and sharing their ideas about what must be done about the problem. What I heard from these Jubalee People* that evening amazed me.

There were about five or six debaters in the discussion---male and female. They appeared to be  mainly in their thirties and forties. Also, sitting to the side, listening in intense, dignified, silence, was a stately Black American Woman who looked like she was maybe in her mid-to-late sixties. Her shiny gray hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was beautiful with an air of wisdom and strength. It was obvious that she was fine as wine when she was a Young Woman. The debate intensified to fever pitch with nearly everyone in the conversation talking over each other. Nobody was able to agree on anything except that the Black Community is in a serious state of crisis. Suddenly, with one assertive motion, the female Elder sat up straight and moved to the edge of her seat. She raised her right index finger in the air and raised her voice above the bantering fray. With pure Matriarchal authority, this Woman spoke seven clear words to the group so loudly, so clearly, and with such force of conviction, that it silenced everyone in the debate at once:

"WHAT WE NEED IS...STRONG...PATRIARCHAL... LEADERSHIP!" 

Everyone sat amazed; and, not one person had anything to say in response. They could only nod their heads in affirmation. I will never forget that moment. I am invariably an American Black Man, the product of two lines of strong, righteous, Patriarchal Leadership that go back, at least, to the time of the Emancipation from Chattel Slavery. Now, whenever I encounter the University-spawned rhetoric of the Womanists, or the Black Feminists, categorically denying the legitimacy of Black American Patriarchal Leadership, I must take it with a grain of salt in light of the authentic Matriarchal Wisdom of this strong, beautiful, Female Elder from the Black Community. For she needed no "ism" to validate her Womanhood or to authorize her power; and, she had no axe to grind against the American Black Man.  I trust this Wise Woman's insight; and, I trust her intentions. I try, in good faith, to act upon the solution that she so strongly asserted that evening. 

This Black American Matriarch's bold, unequivocal, affirmation of the Patriarchal Leadership of American Black Men speaks to the reality that, at our cultural best, The Patriarchate and The Matriarchate co-exist in a complementary relationship that produces healthy Men and healthy Women who themselves co-exist in complementary relationships.

Let us be crystal clear; The Patriarchate, which is superior to the bitter offense that the Feminists call patriarchy, is male leadership that is strong, loving, nurturing, creative, and compassionate. This is most likely what the female Elder on the COTA Bus was calling for. She was certainly not calling for more patriarchy. She was obviously too wise, and too strong, of a Woman to do that. 

Patriarchy is the opposite of strong, loving, nurturing, creative, and compassionate, male leadership; it is basically male dominance through oppression.  And oppressors are not strong; neither is their leadership true leadership. They are really just fearful weaklings who happen to have a false advantage. That is why they need to oppress, suppress, and exploit, others in order to maintain their false advantage.  Nor are they really loving; but, rather, they are either conditionally sentimental, sensually manipulative, or mechanically affectionate yet remote and inaccessible.

Patriarchy is an unhealthy, and insane, form of manhood that produces insecure males.

Patriarchal oppressors, as it were, are not nurturing; they tend to be either overbearing, and overly critical, indifferent and unsupportive, or weak and entitled. Patriarchal oppressors tend not to be generative. That is to say, they are neither encouraging nor prone to bless weaker or younger people. They rather tend to be stifling, discouraging, and overly critical, even bullies. Patriarchal oppressors tend not to be particularly compassionate; but, rather they are prone to judge, condemn, and punish. Patriarchy, in principle, is rooted in the ethics of 'Might Makes Right', 'The Ends Justify The Means,' and the 'Lex Talionis' (The Law of Retaliation). Patriarchy is an unhealthy, and insane, form of manhood that produces insecure males who bring unnecessary, and unjust, harm to others. Therefore, patriarchy is not a legitimate manifestation of Humanity. But, let us be clear; not all male dominance, or authority, is patriarchy.

The Patriarchate, on the other hand, by nature, is not oppressive. It is a Manhood that can affirm itself without dis-affirming Women, Youth, and Children but, indeed, by actively affirming them. It is a spiritually sound Manhood that is rooted in the ethic of 'Might For Right.'  In the Patriarchate, a Man's value is based on the virtue of his vision and on the correctness of his character.  The Black Patriarchate is the Kushite Heritage of Divine Masculinity. Kush was a great civilization of the Classical Nile Valley. The culture of ancient Kush was rooted in Truth, Justice, and Righteousness.

This was a strong, spiritually healthy, Manhood that was secure enough to co-exist as the complement of a powerful, and healthy, Womanhood that produced such leaders as the Kentake Queens of Kush; Queen Hatshepsut, and Queen Mother Tiye, of Kemet; Queen Nzingha of the Matamba and the Ndongo; and, an unparalleled West, and Central, African civilization complex of Women who gave birth to the terrible, and peculiar, wonder known to the World as the Black American Woman. 

The Patriarchate is a healthy, and sane, form of Manhood that generates true value and goodwill in the Human Experience. This is the mark that the best of American Black Men are striving to hit. Men of The Black Patriarchate are secure in their Manhood; and, because they are secure, Women and Children are safe in their presence.

BE OF GOOD COURAGE... 

AND LET US PLAY THE MEN FOR OUR PEOPLE...

...AND FOR THE CITIES OF OUR GOD; 

I get Black male youth to pull their pants up by asking them to...without judging them or looking down on them with contempt. For instance, early one Autumn, awhile back, I was standing at the Southbound bus stop at Cleveland and 161 (in Columbus, Ohio), waiting in the bus stop shelter for the #1 Cleveland Avenue-to-Livingston Avenue bus. It was a warm day; and, I was wearing the same t-shirt that I have on in the above photograph. The message on the front of the t-shirt says:

If You Are What You Say You Are, Then Have No Fear.

Two rowdy-sounding, ragged-looking, young Black American fellows came bopping-and-shuffling toward the bus shelter, approaching from the North. They were both teenagers about eighteen years-old; and, they were both low-sagging their pants like a couple of sad sacks. Old Black Men, who are over the age of seventy, call young Black dudes like these "jitterbugs." The two jitterbugs quietly put their heads together in the North corner of the bus shelter, saying a few curse words. They were apparently planning to make a move toward me. They seemed to be trying to decide whether or not, or how, to approach me. The larger, and taller, of the two fellows, a sullen, rough-looking, character, with a dirty-looking, uncombed Afro, stood back and eyeballed me. This kid looked like a real thug. He was obviously used to intimidating people. His running buddy, who was smaller, smoother, better-dressed, and better-groomed, quickly stepped to me.

"Excuse me, Sir," He said. "You got a dollar I can use?"

Although the fellow approached me with "Excuse me, Sir," he still had a cocky, impudent, attitude. I attributed his good manners more to my size than to his home training. I out-weighed the rag-a-muffin by about 200lbs; and, I was a several inches taller than he was. I stared down at him for a moment; he started to squirm.

"Ask for what you really need, Young Man," I said.

"I need two dollars to ride the bus." He sounded less tough this time.

"Is that enough to get you back home?" I asked.

"No." He replied.

"Then what do you need?" 

"I need two more dollars." He sounded like a little boy talking to his father.

I took two spare day passes out of my wallet; and, I gave them to him. I usually carry spare bus passes for just such occasions. This young fellow was deeply grateful. He thanked me for the bus passes, which he very much needed. He had not thought ahead as to how he was going to ride the bus the next day. Clearly, the unspoken, and, perhaps, unspeakable, part of this Young Man's "thank you," which he communicated non-verbally, was his heartfelt appreciation for my intervention as an older Man.

"WHAT WE NEED IS...STRONG...PATRIARCHAL...LEADERSHIP!" 

Although he was young enough to be my son, I could tell that this young fellow could not quite process me, at that moment, as a father figure, even though his energy suggested that he wanted to. He most likely had no frame of reference to do so. I waited in silence for a few moments, watching the traffic, until there was a line of cars at the stop light in the Northbound lane across from the bus stop on Cleveland Avenue. I noticed that some of the drivers were Black Women and that some of the Black Women drivers were glancing over at the two sagging teenagers and me and frowning. I motioned to the two fellows; they stepped forward and leaned in to hear what I had to say. I addressed them with warm authority.

"Listen, Fellas...Do you see the Women in those cars over there?"

"Yeah," replied the boy that I had just helped, gazing over at the cars.

"Uh, yeah." Sloppy thug boy replied.

"Why do you think they keep looking over here at us?" I asked.

"Guess dey checkin' us out," said sloppy thug boy with a lusty grin.

"Aw, yeah...Dey checkin' us out," said no-bus-fare boy, leering, with one eyebrow raised, at a Black Woman in a blue sports car, trying to look sexy. 

"No," I said. "They are looking at me; and, they are saying, 'Why doesn't this Black Man do something about these Black boys?'" 

The two jitterbugs were amazed. They looked at me then looked back at the Women in the cars; then, they looked back at me.

"You know what I'm talking about...don't you?" I said, looking squarely into their faces.

Both boys grinned sheepishly. Dead serious, I looked deep into their eyes and lowered my voice to a bass whisper.

"Now, you don't want me to go out like that...do you?"

Their eyes locked onto mine; suddenly, their grins faded into that grim, steely-eyed, look that Men get at the exact moment that they realize it is time to ante-up, stand together, and represent, as Men, or go out looking like a bunch of lames.

"Naw," they both said, glaring into my eyes, tight-lipped, nostrils flaring.

"Do me a favor. Pull up your pants."

Both boys solemnly squared their shoulders, stuck out their chests, pulled up their pants, and tightened their belts.

"Now, you look like soldiers." I said.

The light changed to green. We watched the cars pull off.  I noted the pleased expression on the faces of some of the Women. One in particular, who had been watching from the other lane, nodded her head in approval as she drove away. She was dressed like a professional; and she appeared to be in her mid-to-late thirties. I turned to the two Young Men and looked them over with a glimmer of paternal warmth in my eyes.

"You fellas want to see what I looked like when I was your age?" 

"Yeah!" They both replied, leaning in to see what I had.

I showed them this photograph of me that I keep in my cell phone:

Sloppy thug boy was genuinely mystified, and dumbfounded, by the image of me at his age. It was like he honestly did not realize that older Black Men used to be young Black Men. He just stared at the picture with a blank look on his face with his mouth open and his bottom lip hanging. When the energetic little fellow who I gave the bus passes to saw this image, he leaned closer, cocking his head to the side for a better view; then he suddenly smiled from ear-to-ear, reared-up and shouted:

"Aw...dats 'Papa Was A Rollin' Stowwwne' Old School!"

I didn't have the heart to tell him that the song Papa Was A Rollin' Stone was old school to me when I was his age. The above photograph of me, in my late teens, with a young teenage girl, was taken by an Army Intelligence photographer, at High Noon, on June 21, 1982, fifty-five days before my eighteenth birthday, for this very purpose: to create an icon of Young Honor for Black American Youth of the future.

...AND THE LORD DO THAT WHICH SEEMETH HIM GOOD.

Since that day at the bus stop, whenever I have seen the young fellow to whom I gave the bus passes, he has had his pants pulled up; and, he has had a generally cheerful attitude (whether he was aware that I was watching him or not). The last time I saw him, he was alone, moving like he had a  purpose, walking swiftly to some apparently important destination. It looked like he may have been going to work because he appeared to be wearing a uniform; and, he was carrying what looked like a folded apron. The last time I saw sloppy thug boy, he was by himself, as well, meandering aimlessly, holding up the front of his sagging pants with one hand, as he shuffled along, looking lost, angry, and depressed.  Please do not assume that I made no impact on this Young Man. Just pray for him and know that my impact on him was just not visible ...yet. 

When older Black People turn their noses up with self-righteous disdain and complain that our youth are a "lost generation," they convict themselves and beg the serious question: "Who lost them? If today's Black American youth are lost, who lost them?"  Think about that.

If you ask one of these boys why they sag their pants, they cannot even explain why they do it. All they know is that they must do it. Maybe these young fellows are unconsciously trying to communicate a message to our society with their sagging pants and unseemly ways. Maybe what our male youth are saying to the older generation of Black folks, who were apparently so distracted with other priorities that they forgot to make a way for the young people coming up behind them, is simply this: 

"Look at how you left us...ASS OUT!"

If our Black Male Youth are lost, it is the responsibility of mature American Black Men to find them and to guide them home to the Light. We must do this firstly, by modeling the appropriate behavior that we want to see in our young males; secondly, by reaching out to them in a strong, loving, creative, way that is becoming of mature Men; and, thirdly, by intervening with sound answers, and solid solutions, when our Young Men have questions that need to be answered and problems that need to be solved. Every Man's genuine effort counts. Do the best that you can, according to the time, resources, and opportunities, with which you are blessed; and, know that you are making a difference.  Be of good courage, and let us play the men for our people, and for the cities of our God: and the LORD do that which seemeth him good.

May God grant us a special dispensation of Wisdom, Strength, Courage, and Grace, that We, the Survivors of American Chattel Slavery, may recover from this cultural, and spiritual, disaster and parlay our influence over the Global Culture into the power to lead the People of The World to Higher Ground.

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*Jubalee People poetically refers to Survivors of American Chattel Slavery.

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Heru Bar-Chanan is the great-great-grandson of Nat Turner (1800-1831), the Prophet who led the most devastating slave revolt in American History. He is the author of the book, GOD IS WITH US. (2017) Secret Knowledge of The Hand of God In Black America's Quest of Freedom. Learn more, and place your secure order on this book's Amazon.com listing by tapping the title link above.