The Dodo Bird: A Black Male Leader

MISSING: Black Male Leader

When a Black man becomes a leader...all Hell breaks loose. I'm pretty sure no one knows what to do about it. Quite honestly, I think people are so used to the ABSENCE of the Black male leader, that a new one is not welcomed with, "Welcome, we are glad you are here, but faces statements like, "where have you been?" "Where's the rest of you?" "Why do you come not fully prepared?" It's as if people look at the Black male leader with horror and shock? How did you come about? What's the deal with you?

When a Black man becomes a leader...he is guilty until proven innocent. He is the inheritor of all abusive, undervaluing, misogynistic, self-focused leadership that has come before him. A NEW Black male leader is also the uncle that abused you, the pastor that robbed you, the father that ignored you, the hustler on the corner, the man who rejected you romantically. He's the reason the Black family is broken, the incarerated one who sold drugs. The Black male leader is the beggar on the corner drinking a bottle of alcohol telling about what he could've done back in his day. You've already heard his dreams, and have found them wanting. You've heard his schemes, and all you can see is trouble. You've believed in him once already, and that's a shame-on-me (the Black male leader), to do it again is a "shame-on-you." You will not be duped again.

When a Black male becomes a leader...he is never innocent. He sold out to become a leader. He left someone behind, sold out in some way. In fact, when a Black male becomes a leader he is usually accompanied by a white female. This is what we think right? There's no way that a Black man by himself could break out of the drowning enslavement of a lowered identity. He is not an owner of his culture (his fault), and leader is his community (his fault too). He doesn't believe in himself (he's weak), and he can't handle critique from his Black female counterpart (more weakness). So he grabs the hand of a white female savior who won't challenge him (the worst weakness) and abandons the very people who would love him. He's a betrayer of the highest regard.

What happens when the dodo bird, thought to be extinct...what happens when "by happenstance" found one? It's both facinating and scary at the same time right? "It's a miracle!?! Praise God! Or maybe Dawinism? We probably darwinsitic about the discovery of a Black male leader than we do well religious (I'm just saying).

The whole ecosystem has adjusted to work without him present, and everybody has moved on, only to talk about him in printed books, mistake him for a toucan on cereals, and has been found mainly to be mythological and a caricature? "What do we do with him?" "Is he aggressive?" "Does he bite?" "You know, maybe we should put him in a cage in a zoo, because he's endangered, and might die off again..."

Well, the dodo bird has been found to not be extinct...and yes it has had to survive insurmountable odds, and it continues to do so to this very day! Of course, there are more predators that it can count that wants him to go back into extinction, even the very ecosystem that it thrived in at one time, because of how it has evolved, looks at the bird strangely. IT WANTS to bring it back in, but it would mean that the ecosystem has to dramatically change for it to make space for it, and in some ways, it likes the ecosystem it has now. So it aggresses him, even if it doesn't want to, but out of an instinct to survive, it rejects the dodo bird, and that very bird feels at a loss as well. No system seems to fit him, and every ecosystem has aggressive survival instincts and is not really willing to adjust the habitat to let them in.

But the dodo bird wants to thrive and survive as well. The dodo bird wants to share its story of survival as well. It has a story to share. Unconventionally, it has learned to feed itself, fly, and it has become strong. The means of which this bird has developed don't fit your understanding of development because it belongs to a different system. Of course it doesn't speak like you, but BELEIVE ME, IT'S A DODO BIRD. It has the same predators, the same needs for survival, for community, for comfort, for care, and IT CAN LEAD!

So like the dodo bird, how do we invite and welcome the Black male leader to lead again in the ecosystem of this world, of this country, of the church, of the family, of the Black community? I want to know, because I'm here, white wife and all, and I'm not going anywhere.

Would Jesus Say COWABUNGA?

How does one pursue peace together? I'm thinking about that a lot today. I'm searching for peace and the peace of God to emannate my very body, my family life, my personal health, but it just sometimes seems so elusive, and I wonder why.

Recently, I started a bible study called Harambee. The term itself is found on the Kenyan flag and it means, "all pull together." I like the idea of it, but I know and realize that if I attempting to lead and guide a community group that pulls together in the same direction, for the same purposes, given that we are coming from different backgrounds, its not going to be easy. This group is an intentionally multi-ethnic, multi-cultural experience, which means I am inviting into my home debate, pain, hurt, argument, confusion, sadness. You name it, its coming there.

But I can't lie to you, I'm excited..nervous, but excited. See, I'm a little crazy. I'm too vision-centered for my own good. I ACTUALLY believe that this will not only work, but that this group is going to do great things. Really GREAT things. If we as Harambee can become that kind of multi-ethnic, multi-cultural community that pulls not against each other, but for God and for each other, I think we will witness a part of the kingdom of God that we rarely get to see. I'm so drawn by the unknown, the thing that needs so much of our faith to produce, that only faith can make it happen. I've always been like this, since I was a kid, since I came to Iowa City and found myself as a Black man floating in the midst of a world that didn't seem to accomodate my cultural values well.

So we studied Ephesians 2 last night, and I have to admit, it took a lot to get to this study. The active LACK of peace my family has gone through this whole week, while finding myself hours before the study at a courthouse with my wife getting a restraining order for a unruly person, the life around me has been nothing close to peace. But recently, the Lord spoke something really close to my heart, he said, "YOU ARE NOT IN CHAOS, YOU ARE IN CHRIST." It resonated ith me because what I feel is like Peter in the boat and Jesus asking me to come out onto the waves to be with him. I take my step out, but then in order for me to not get caught up in the movement of the water in the ocean, or the wind that's currently blow and could topside any boat, I have to focus on Jesus.

I always wondered, "What would have happened if Peter didn't get afraid of the circumstances aroun him and got to Jesus on top of the water? What if he didn't lose faith and doubt God, but continued to keep his eye focused on the Lord?" I laugh to myself and think about Jesus striking a surfing pose and shouting out "COWABUGA!" Then they would both ride the wave together, the currents and winds creating a unique experience that could be experience if Peter would just have to faith to overcome the windy circumstances and the reality shifting experience of being called out to walk on the water. If only Peter wouldn't have doubted, he would get to shout COWABUNGA with the Lord as well.

I want to shout COWABUNGA with Jesus. Harambee is a faith step to walk out on water and ignore the winds, ACKNOWLEDGE THEM, but not get distracted by it, but to keep such a sharp focus on Jesus, that eventually we won't be just trying to survive the walk, but we would ride the waves with him.

Ephesians 2 says that God has destroyed the dividing walls of hostility and created a new humanity. What if we attempted to live as new humans and pulled together for the kingdom of God? Well, like I said, I'm a vision-centered dreamer, and I'm too hard-headed to not try to see this through.

What does it mean to unite?

That's a real question for me. What does it mean to unite? What does it mean to gather a diasporic community of people, who are related by skin tone, but has never been a part of a community? There's so much going on in our country. The Black Lives Matter Movement communicates the attempts we are making as a people within this society to address the hurt, pain, and disregard we experience with this country.

We hunger for peace, we hunger for a voice, but we also understand that we cannot do this without the help of those standing with us around us. We are all fighting this battle, at least all of the Black people, whether they acknowledge it or not.

Right now, we are starting a Black Campus Ministries (BCM) work at the University of Iowa. e did a BBQ with NAACP and we saw over 100 Black people come out to get BBQ! I've never seen that in my 16 years looking at the University of Iowa. We are planning some BLM forums with NAACP, and as a Christian organization, we cannot ignore the political implications that are affecting the Black community here.

But  recently, there was an article that said Iowa City was the least stressed city in America.  Come again? Now, WHO EXACTLY WAS INTERVIEWED FOR THAT? I question the research data that helped the author and researcher come to that conclusion.

The battle is here just as well. Black community members, students from the college, and faculty are all feeling the effects of marginalization. What I thought that statement meant when I heard we were least stressed was, "Well, all of our minorities are in checked, so you don't have to deal with anxiety issues in that way, PLUS everything accommodates you easily, NO STRESS!"

BCM needed in Iowa City because Jesus cares for the lives of Black people. Would Jesus say that Jewish lives matter? Of course? Would Jesus say that Women's lives matter? Of course. Would he say that Gentiles Lives Matter? Of course. Guess what, Black lives are Gentiles as well!

That's all I got to say for the moment...

The Birth of a Black Man

Its not as common as you think, birthing a black man.  I saw it yesterday. I saw with my very own eyes my wife birthed out a black man.  Sure, this is our second child, and so I knew what to expect from the process.  The laboring, the water breaking, the pain and anguish, then jubilation.  However, I can't deny the fact that my wife, who is white create a black boy.

This black boy was born innocent.  Not of course in the eternal damnation way! He'll have to say to Jesus the same way we all have to accept or reject Him in his heart.  What I mean is that my son, my Black son has no guilty verdict on him.  No one has suspected him of violence or danger. No one can blame him for doing anything but being cute, and hungry.

I'm laying right next to him, like right now and its cool.  He's so chill and so in the comfort of his family. True innocence.

Then I think about the fact that this may be one of the few moments in his life where he will be looked upon and only the best of interpretations will be labeled to him. He will experience days of struggle and confusion.  He will be assumed on. His parents won't completely understand his world. He's 100% Black and 100% White and of a varied percentage being accepted along the spectrum.

As I watch him rest, I can help but to think about the amount of energy he has to conserve to deal with this world. Partition energy to deal with joy, and pain, bigots and apologist of Black culture, I mean, what's a young man to do?!

Happy Birthday, young black boy, we wish nothing but the best, we are aware that the worst is yet to come, but we hope you can persevere through the growing pans that are ahead of you, in order to leave your mark on the world you are destined to leave. Daddy.

Endangered Species: A Ferguson Reflection

ENDANGERED defined:

Endangered but Protected...

[en-deyn-jerd]

Adjective

1. threatened with danger
• "endangered lives of the coal miners"
2. threatened with extinction
• "the bald eagle may be endangered"
3. threatened with danger and with extinction
• "African American men are endangered"

That's how I felt when I woke up the day after the decision that Officer Wilson was no indicted on any charges for the death of Michael Brown.  I watch online from the aerial view how the town of Ferguson had smoke and fire billowing from it.  I watch how I-44 was blocked off and hundreds of people protesting their anger and frustrations about the verdict.  My stomach started to sour and my mind began to malaise.  I began to feel that "not again" feeling.  African American males are punished with death.  

My wife is 15 weeks pregnant.  We don't know the temptation of the baby, but today I find myself tempted to pray, "Lord, let it not be a boy." That's pretty messed up huh? The fact that I don't want a son growing up in this society with his skin tone and with the reputation that this country has with its treatment of Black men is clouding up the God-Given joy of having a child.  He would look like me, and I today would be both proud and ashamed.  Proud that something like that could be produced from my wife and I, and ashamed because I will feel limited in my ability to protect him.

He would be on the endangered list, as I am.

My lament isn't a cover-up for anger, because I am definitely angry.  Very angry! I keep playing the scenario in my mind, wondering how 6-10 shots could come off as self-defense.  I tried to figure out how an unarmed man would reach into the car of a police officer knowing the consequences.  I wonder HOW IN THE HELL would anybody who is of African descent and who's ancestors have been here for more than 3 generations would try to ACCOST a police officer, UNARMED WITHOUT THINKING THAT DEADLY RETALIATION WOULD NOT HAPPEN?!?! I've grown up here and there's NO WAY, NOOO WAAAY we as Black folk are taught that to be correct behavior.  It goes against the DIRECTIVE of SURVIVAL of the BLACK COMMUNITY to do such a thing! 

But that is what is believed.  A jury believed it.  They judged the circumstance like they were replay officials for a a football game. No indisputable evidence.

Of course there's no disputable evidence.  The strongest disputable evidence is buried 6 feet in Ferguson, MO.  The dead can't testify, give an account, communicate a different narrative.  The cop has the benefit of the doubt, the system on his side, and the deeply passed privileged that he works on the side of the law, which protects everyone and everyone should adhere to.  The problem with this law is that no every feels protected by it, and adherence has caused death just as much as crime seems to.

I'm not excited to be a black man today.  I'm nervous to birth one. I'm hopeless to encourage one.  I'm nauseous to know that others may assume me dangerous or justifiably killed one day.

Endangered and Not Protected

If I had a wish, it would be for those who are not African American or Black to have 24 hours as one. In those 24 hours they would experience without death all of the fears and concerns that many of us experience on a daily basis.  They would have the ability to hear all of the assumptions unspoken about themselves.  They would see every concerning glance, every car door locked, every purse clutched, every flinch when they reach out, every eye roll when they aren't moving or doing things quick enough. That'd be an interested experiment...

Jesus and Michael Brown

Hello friends and Central Region community,

I’ve been slowly processing what’s been going on in the Ferguson community and how this might affect our region and students.  So many things have already been said about it, the ways we need to listen, and lament, and learn.  I am truly grateful for the leadership in our community on so many levels, so I don’t want to restate what has already been said.  I just want to share my narrative and hopefully we can see from it together what the Lord might be doing in the midst of this tragedy.

I grew up in a pretty violent place in Chicago, IL, the notable “Southside” of Chicago, where violence this year has been notably high.  There are so many stories I could share with about the how the police interacted with the community.  Even now, as I ponder watching police walk people across the street on hands and knees, ordered by the police to do so, it leaves me in confusion.  If they were gang members, why not just leave them there in the open area for other police to arrive? Why not set up cones so they wouldn’t get hit on a four way major street?  I struggle with wondering why the relationship between the police and people where I grew up was so bitter.

Yet, I’ve seen the other side, where violence in the community became so rampant, you just had to wonder if normal force would be helpful.  I remember seeing a man run from one high-rise building (16 story low income housing) to another.  The first building housing a rival gang from the one the man ran into.  It became known that this man was a drug-addict who stole drugs from the rival gang leader.  This could have become a major gang war, but an eerie community based solution occurred.  The other gang brought the man out of the building and together…both gangs beat the man to death right up under my 3^rd story window.  Rocks, big rocks, punches, and a bike was even thrown on this man.  It was literally a stoning of a person! There must have been 50-70 people out there. I remember as an 11 year old, wondering how could I survive in an area with such twisted justice?  For myself at that time, I would’ve loved to seen police come in, make everyone lie on the ground, just to stop the level of violence that was happening.

Then, there’s the personal experience, where I was bringing home pizza where I lived, and police began to swarm the building, most likely trying to catch drug dealers in the moment.  As I was coming in, the police stopped me, put me against the wall spread my hands, and began checking the pizza for “drugs.” Right at that moment, some bullies came through, saw what was happening and started to go through my pockets and rob me at the same time.  I call out to the police, and they just say, “Don’t you move!” So while I was being “searched” I was robbed at the same time while police were present!

Wouldn’t that throw off your understanding of what it means for police to “serve and protect?” So now, we have another controversy, we have the Michael Brown shooting, and once again, we are seeing the world split up.  What are we to do as a community?  What would Jesus do?

I think the question, “What would Jesus do” is not the right question.  The question I think we should focus on is, “What has Jesus done?” What has Jesus done to solve violence, and pain, and suffering? What has Jesus done to bring healing, and freedom? Everything; Jesus has done everything.  His death is why we live.  His suffering is why we are free.  His atonement is why we are free from penalty.  We look towards Jesus first before we look to the community, the police, the media, and blogs for answers. 

We as believers can show the world what it truly means to repent and believe in something greater than our circumstances.  We have the opportunity to show those affected and hurt by this situation that the light of the world is here and darkness cannot comprehend it (John 1).  This is the InterVarsity Central Region scripture focus:

“Therefore, since we have such a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every weight that hinders, and sin that so easily entangles us.  And let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith.  Who for the joy set before him endured the cross despising its shame, and is now seated at the right hand of the thrown of God. Consider him, who endured much from sinful man, so that you will not grow weary and be fainthearted. (Hebrews 12: 1-3)”

The “therefore” can be seen as “since the circumstances are as such.” Which means, since we see pain, and brokenness and bitterness, and hatred in our world, there WE who follow the Lord of Light in the midst of this darkness, since we are the ones in the kingdom of light, a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight that hinders.  And what is the weight? The weight of this world, the weight of sin, the weight of the tragedy of Michael Brown, which is not to say “do not deal with is” but place the weight where it belongs, on Jesus and on the cross. 

Every weight and sin, and yes, let us not deny the fact that sin in involved.  Sinful people, men, women, blog, thoughts, arguments, comments, commentators, abounds! We can become entangled by the sin of gossip from this situation.  But where sin is, grace can demolish it! The grace of God has the power to topple the current narrative, which is that we as a people hate each other.  Grace says, God’s power is stronger than our hatred, and even more so, it’s overwhelming.  Jesus says, hate me instead of each other, and watch me put an end to sin, and give you the freedom to tear down the walls of hostility (Ephesians 2). 

We as the Christian community are Spiritual Marathon Runners.  We are given endurance from on high and the pacing set by Jesus, who runs before us to endure such suffering.  The race we are running is a race won.  We are going for second place, because Jesus has already completed it! That means, sin, which is trying to run the same place, cannot win.  The brokenness of this world CANNOT and WILL NOT win, praise Jesus.

Do you understand that Jesus has run this race with joy before him? Jesus was constantly focused on the father in heaven? Why not we, as the cloud of witnesses set our sights there as well?  The Lord will have dominion over pain, over Ferguson, over Missouri, the US, and the world.  Let us focus on the one whose reign will reign on this earth. 

Jesus has run this race, though knowing that suffering was a part of it.  The world could have been eradicated because of our sin and brokenness. God has just cause, even without Ferguson to destroy us, but his plan is redemption and justice, not purely destruction. 

Jesus watches us, and cheers for us, and intercedes for us, and he says, “FINISH IT FRIENDS!” Jesus isn’t just interested in only himself finishing the race, though because we are on his team, we WIN! Jesus wants each of his citizens to finish as well.  He wants people who will SUMMIT the mountain not faint hearted or weary, but full of vitality and hope.

Let us use that vitality and hope to run the race of speaking truth of the Gospel in the Michael Brown situation, because it may the only the Gospel they see through the gossip.  It’s easy how we can confuse the two, and our dying world needs the right prescription.  I hope this letter of service and love, and encouragement to our community. May the Lord reign in Ferguson, MO, in the family of Michael Brown, on our campuses in the Central Region, the US, and in the world.

Come Lord Jesus,

Tony Gatewood

Child of God

Central Region Intervarsity Staff

Momentary Minority-Ness

time to get it out!

I got that itch again...about to EXHALE!

Makes sense though...I usually get the itch whenever I feel stress.  It's been a pretty hectic season, not overwhelming, but hectic, so I decided to get some thoughts out.

OKAY, so yesterday I had the opportunity to be a part of a black panel discussion at a college campus.  It was a class of all white students with a white teacher wanting to learn about black people and black culture.  Sounds weird?  On just the surface, its a little alarming!  What do they want to ask? Is this a "Show and Tell" for black people? I'd have to say that the teacher seemed genuine enough about it, and I'm always down for a little racial drama to absorb, so a good friend ask me if I'd do it, and I said yes.

Now, as we began our discussing with each other, roundtable style, each white person in the room got to share about the racial experiences they've had in life.  Now, I'm not going to share their responses out of respect to the vulnerability they showed, but I did notice a common trend among them all.  When asked about their racial experiences, they also mentioned a time where THEY felt like a minority.

I found this very intriguing, because they each communicated about a time when they were the only person of their race in a situation and how they felt like a minority.  So, for me this begged the question, "About how many hours out the day do you feel like a minority?" Some answered, "just that time" or something close to that.  Then I asked the 5 black panelist the same question, "About how many hours out of the day do you feel like a minority?" With a chuckle, each said something to the effect of "when isn't there a time?"

This got me going and thinking...I've heard many of my white friends speak about being a minority, having a minority experience, as close to an ethnic/racial experience they can.  Most of them who do say this cite a racial experience, not that they say, "well, one time I was the only left handed person int he room.  I felt lonely and awkward."  I don't hear that.

picture is from www.blackpeopleloveus.com

My response to the groups of people in there was to say, "Actually, what you experience is what I'd call MOMENTARY MINORITY-NESS. It's a brief dip into the realization that your cultural ways of doing things and saying things isn't normalized  Its a moment that happens every so often where you realize you're different, and you see communities of others that are different.  But what is, is just a moment."

What I said to them, and what I'm communicating here right now is that speaking about being a minority can be not only subjective (anyone can find out what makes them unqiue, then in term look at that uniqueness and consider themselves alone/a minority), but for many who's privilege doesn't bring them that point of minority-ness daily, is a small plunge.

That affect of this can sometimes be the undervaluing of someone who truly feels and lives life as a minority.  Of course, I deal with ethnic/racial minority issues in my life mostly, so I can only really speak from that point.  But, I STRUGGLE when I hear white people say they are a minority, and then used that small sample to articulate what they may feel as "true for all people who are minorities."

"I'm not fitting in well" says the peanut butter and chocolate ones...

I wake up: "I'm a minority."  I brush my teeth, "I'm a minority."  I go to a African American literature at the university here, "I'm NOT a minority!" Once I step out the class, "I'm a minority again."  I go to church, "I'm a minority.' Do you understand the stress of thinking about how you will articulate yourself to others so much? EXHAUSTION!

"Well Tony, What do you want us to do" I imagine being asked by my white friends.  I can tell you. 

1. For one, the best way to relate to another minority about their experience isn't to share with them your only experience not being a majority.  The opposite happens and we actually see how privileged you are, not how empathetic you are.
2.  If someone sees your experience and says that not close to what they are experiencing, don't get offended! White culture values folks with expertise, and minorities are EXPERTS on being a minority.
3. Empathy could work this way as well, "That sucks! I'm really sorry that is your life-long experience." or, "Hey, any time you wanna vent, I'll listen and not qualify your words or try to get you to rationalize your experience."

That's a good start.

My Work With InterVarsity: Fall 2013

Hello friends!

I also like to post my ministry updates here.  What I'm doing with my work with InterVarsity.  I hope you enjoy this as well!  Got some thoughts about future posts, so stay tuned!

Tony

373 Words: A Verdict and An Appeal

Tragedy does have to destroy a people...

Most people have already said it enough.  A young life was ended and we are left as a community, a humanity to figure out how in the world we make sense of it. A jury came back and considered the death of a young black man inconsequential relative to a ridiculous law.  I didn’t think I would ache this much about this, but I do. What I’m irked about the most isn’t the verdict given, or the outrage of others.  What is irking me the most is how most of my white friends haven’t even posted a thought about it.  I spent time just looking through Facebook and I just noticed how most of my white friends haven't even mentioned it, but for many of my Black friends, its on the forefront of their mind.  That’s what power is, when you can ignore something that has such a strong effect on such a large community. You can ignore it because it honestly doesn’t affect your day-to-day right?  What does the verdict of Trayvon Martin do to your outlook on the day? The experience of loss and anger and frustration will be long forgotten by the people who are least affected by it. 

Meanwhile, there are those, namely African Americans, who have to carry the burden of realizing that as much progress we can make in this country or the economic strides we can achieve, senseless verdicts such as these will always be made.  It reminds me and many other Black folks that we are all still in the same barrel.  How easy it seemed to demonize Trayvon.  How easy it seemed to humanize Zimmerman.

For all the Black folk I know and love and I don’t know, but still love; we will get though this.  You’re angry, I know.  It doesn’t seem fair, and folk who don’t look like us seem to always get away with crime.  I want to let you know, YOU ARE STRONG.  You come from a mighty and great group of people.  Do not drop your value with violence or anger against white folk, not all of them are like this. Stay focused, we will get through this and our community WILL thrive.  One decision does not change that.

31st Birthday Reflection Part 2: Alive at 31

I was pretty absorbed into the thought of death at 19.  I believed it so much so, that for me, it was a certainty.  How many times can one be jumped on by people and not die?  How many times can there be shooting around you, and you not think you'll get hit by a stray bullet.  I was actually sitting on a porch with my cousin and a guy on a bicycle pulled a gun out and started shooting at the porch!  I figured that something evil was really out to get me and would eventually succeed.  My mom couldn't even trust me with money because I got robbed so much!

So, you would think when I found Jesus that this thought process would heal right?  Not really.  See, I gave my life over to God in a Wendy's outside of the Robert Taylor Homes (more like prison buildings).  I'll have to tell you my salvation story another time, because its kinda wild!  Anyways, when I started following God, my worldview about my death hadn't changed, my view on my destination however did. So, I thought that when I die, I'd go to heaven! It was great for a moment.  Dying didn't seem so bad when I would look at death in this light.  Then, I became intrigued by heaven and how things would end.  So I would read the book of revelation EVERYDAY!  I WAS OBSESSED WITH THE BOOK OF REVELATION!  I just wanted to know how things would end! The drama, the battles, the victory, the finality, it was really satisfying for me.  I would then go around and tell people about this book, "Hey, have you read this book?  It's CRAZY!  Are you a Christian?  Yeah?  Well, guess what, WE WIN!!!"

I laugh thinking about myself at the age, just a little boy, voice cracking, tasting something for the first time really feels like hope.  What was funny, was when I turned 20!  I was a sophomore in college at this time and I as REALLY depressed.  Freshman year I put on the usually 35 - 50 lbs going from 185 to 230 in college!  My sophomore year however, I was so depressed at the idea of dying that I stopped eating much, and I had dropped down to 199 (can't wait to see that weight again!).  I remember sitting in my room with all the lights off wondering when it would happen.  I figured it would most likely happen when I would go home.  "It's been good Jesus," I would say.  "Thank you for the bonus time."  

For some crazy reason, I said yes to a missions trip that summer in Los Angeles.  I thought, "Well if I don't die, then I'll go a missions trip and die a martyr!  The book of revelation had some good stuff to say about martyrs..."  It's so funny thinking back about this time of life for me.  Well, I went back home after that college year, and you know what?  I didin't die?  Crazy!!!

I remember turning 20 on the mission field and I kid you not, I distinctly heard God say to me, "Don't you know that I have more plans for you than you can imagine?"  That hit me at the heart.  I've never thought that God might have plans for me, or that His plans could supersede my fatalism.  I was stunned.  I had been living a sham made out of conjecture and fear.  What would life be like without the fear of death looming always?

Today's my birthday...I'm 31 years old.  It means a lot to me, not that I'm older, or that many people could see me as young, but that I'd lived a great deal of my life an EMOTIONAL TERMINAL ILLNESS, and God healed me.  God proved himself to my life the best way for my circumstances, by proving me wrong about my death.  The demise of Tony Gatewood was greatly exaggerated by yours truly, Tony Gatewood.  

Right now my wife is asleep, my daughter tucked away in her room.  I still rock her in my arms even though she's a bit lanky and older.  I wanna keep doing it until I can't.  She'll live out birthdays prayerfully without the same sickness I once had.  I can feel tears in my eyes, is it my 31st birthday, or 12 years of being proved wrong.  I can't really tell right now...

31st Birthday Reflection Part 1: Dead at 19

Sounds pretty dramatic huh?  Well, to be honest I really thought this about myself.  I remember growing up in the projects of Chicago and constantly dealing with fights and fearing being able to just go outside and plan.  My mom a lot of the time had to push me out of the house just to go and get some exercise.  I remember a time when I was about 13 years old when I was playing for my high school baseball team.  I was wearing my baseball jersey back home from a game and I felt really proud.  I took the green line from Ashland and 69th to 55th and MLK drive.  Some of you from Chicago might know what I'm talking about.  There were only three people in the train caboose (can't remember the right word at the moment lol), A middle aged woman, and older male, and myself.  This was probably around the mid-nineties.  The older male comes over to me, sits down, and says these exact words, "When you get off the train, I'm going to rob you and I'm going to kill you."  You have NO idea how terrified I was!  I was a little kid! This asshole was bigger than me, and I figured out a long time ago that I was a pacifist.  I didn't like fighting or confrontations, I wouldn't fight even if there was a large group around me pushing me to fight.  Anyways, tears are streaming down my eyes as this guy starts to have a NORMAL conversation with me!  Are you serious?  He starts to talk to me about baseball, and growing up, asking me how I'm doing, etc.  It is still to this date one of the most wicked experiences I had, and during a formative time for me. 

There was something different for me during this period of life as well.  I was being witnessed to by Korean Americans with the Gospel of Jesus.  I remember going to a bible study and them teaching about prayer.  "When we pray, God hears our request and is willing to answer us" they would tell us.  What a fine time to apply this right?  So as this guy is talking to me, I'm ignoring him and praying to Jesus, asking him to protect me from this man and save me from this harm that going to happen. 

People don't have cell phones during this period of time, well few people.  Beepers is what it has been all about.  So when the lady, the other person on the train pulls out a phone and begins to say out loud on the phone, "Hello, police, there is a man on this train threatening to kill this young boy," my mouth was stuck on astonishment.  What happened next was freaky.  When she did that, the man looked at me, GROWLED at me, and ran off the train, ONE STOP BEFORE MINE!  Thanks be to God! I ran FULL SPRINT back home and to this day, I've never ridden the green line in Chicago again!

Experiences like that happened to me more often than I've wanted to claim, and though there has been Godly intervention all the time, my world began to change.  I had NO CHANCE to survive this world..  I was prey to everyone, and eventually I was going to get it.  I heard a statistic that said "Young black men who live past 19 years old have a high chance to live longer." I thought to myself, "That's definitely not me..."

I'll finish the last part of this later today, wanted to start out with a  little birthday blogging!  Love to hear your thoughts!

"Progressively Backwards" and Hope

Now, I have to tell you a bit about this place.  Iowa City is what I like to call "Progressively Backwards."  I know that when people call a city or a town "backwards" its usually a response to its lack of education, resources, revenue, etc. We look at lesser resourced communities in small towns and make the "backwards" response.  Yet this is not Iowa City.  Iowa City is one of the most educated cities IN THE WORLD!  You think I'm joking?  Our literacy rate is around 98%.  80% of the city are people who hold a bachelor's degree of higher, and that percentage isn't a small one as well.  Iowa City is a part of a state that has long since been touted for its education system.  Recently, Iowa City was named the THIRD LITERARY CITY OF THE WORLD by UNESCO.  Education, resources and revenue are not our problem.  Our problem is the application of that education.  

PROGRESSIVELY BACKWARDS: A society and a homogeneous group of people who awkwardly practice the misapplication of social education about a particular culture they are trying to empathize and/or sympathize with.

We're educated about poverty, about racism, about socioeconomic status (SES).  We're educated about Women's rights, LGBT rights.  However, our application of our knowledge is really, REALLY far off.  My realm is usually focused around race, poverty, and SES, and I see a community that has used its "blocks" of education,  not for building a bridge, but for building a wall.  We learned that poverty can drive folks to aggressive means of support, so we ignore where the problem is.  We tell others how this is a problem, but "I just don't have the time to do it."  Our pursuit of knowledge has created more fear of others than it has increase the empathy AND sympathy for others.  The more education we've recieved, the more we've come to fear others.  Why is this? Because we settle for only looking at people through a snapshot.  Books don't animate, and even animated books only give you one point of view.  Classrooms can only go so far towards educating others.  You also have to come into the experience and let your heart break, and be transformed.  Let yourself become unsettled and cry out, "I CANNOT SIT AND DO NOTHING...not anymore."

 I recently met with a very successful and wealthy individual who after our conversation challenged me by saying (in so many words) that I am the type of leader that can lift up the whole African American community, even the city...  I can tell you, I did not expect this when I planned on meeting him.  Since that time, I've had sort of a mini twilight zone moment.  Feeling like I was in a place, but yet not.  I've had the highest and lowest ranges of emotions.  Somebody just challenged me to be the world changer I'm destined to be, for my city, IOWA CITY!   

My vision for something so grand and on this is level is not just talking about planting a church, or just a non-profit organization, those are in it, but it's not all of it.  Has God placed in me the seeds and the call to planting a whole community, a movement that can transform the very structures of my society or the world?  

What if I said I had the ability to begin in the next 10 years to:

1. Unite all of the black clergy of Iowa City for the mission of serving our people
2. Develop a financial literacy program to serve the community
3. Build relationships between the local banks and local black businesspeople
4. Create a collaborative network for existing organizations who reach out to the Afr. Am. community.
5. Develop and culture exchanging experience between our community and other communities of the African Diaspora, both stateside and overseas.
6. Help African Americans parents have a stronger presence in our public schools.

And that would be the start of it? I'm literary trying to believe something about myself that bigger than anything I've ever done, or have tried to do.  Not on this scale.  I'm looking at the education of my city and saying to it, "its time to take your education and transform it into wisdom..."

I think this is where I'm at.  I'm a African American man, with all of the crazy experiences I have had in my life, living in the projects of Chicago, being witnessed to by Korean Americans, going to a Korean American church, going to college in Iowa City, IA.  Living for a period of life in Atlanta.  Being married in a bi-racial marriage with a bi-racial child.  Ministering to college students for the past 8, going on 9 years. My heart aches, and my lungs burn for the transformation and change that could hold ramifications at the level of transforming a city. But am I the right person.  What limits me from thinking that I can do this, actual limitations, or just the limitations I've set upon myself? Wow...

Education without the applicable experience to harness is still another form of ignorance in my opinion.  If all our city wants is to be educated about others, about Blacks, without the necessary step that moves knowledge towards wisdom, we will continue to move progressive backwards, where our technology will be further ahead, but our ability to love our fellow brother and sister will remain rudimentary.

Exhaling Narratives...

There's not a lot of pictures of Black men breathing on the Web as calm as this!

It's good to exhale...You breathe in, hold your breath, then breathe out.  You whole body responds to the fact that what you've taken in, finally comes out.  Our bodies are not made to keep things in.  What comes in, goes through our system, then eventually comes out.  We are told that breathing is something we can't really control, but in some ways we can.  We can control the length of time we hold our breath to a limit, then we have no choice but to let it out...

As a Black man in Iowa City, who has lived here on and off since 2000,  I've had to inhale many experiences, with no exhaling.  Somebody follows me in a Walgreens when I'm wearing dickies and a dark blue sweat shirt, making sure that I don't steal anything; I breathe in and hold it.  With my sociological mind, I decide to change my clothes the next day and dress up in "Iowa Wear;" khakis and a t-shirt supporting some random gas station, pat my Afro down and go to the same place to notice 2 things, 1.) I don't get followed in the same store and 2.) None of my black friends talk to me...I breathe in and hold it.

Every compliment for being articulate, I breathe in and hold it.  Every time I'm assumed to be another Black person, I breathe in and hold it.  Every time I'm asked to be a Black Encyclopedia, I breathe in and hold it.  Eventually, I have to exhale.  I have to let it out, unless I'm want to become emotionally and culturally asphyxiated, then I'm no good to anyone. Believe me, I'm getting blue in the face.

"HELP ME! Be my Heimlich's!"

You understand right?  We all have to breathe sometimes, no matter what the consequences are.  Maybe people won't respect us anymore, maybe there are those around us who will begin to fear us.  My question is, if I was really struggling to breathe physically, who in my community would just watch it? Most likely, someone would perform the Heimlich maneuver on me.  This is no different. In fact, I'm grateful for your responses and willingness to read and be willing to allow me to exhale narratives. You're my Heimlich's!

That's what this whole experience is for me on this blog.  If you had the question, "What inspired you to start blogging?"  It's because I need to exhale, to breathe.  I feel like God has given me a deeper call to stay in the fray here in Iowa City.  I love my city, but I've felt the stretch and damage of being in a place that's not the most open...they might believe themselves to be forward thinking and evolved, but I like to call my city "Progressively Backwards."  Hmm...I'll write a blog about this...interested in hearing about it?

I'm also noticing from folk I know who have read this blog that my story of being a Black Man in a White World can be applied to others as well.  I welcome you to imagine, but I would caution you about putting yourself in my shoes, that may prove itself to be difficult and counter to the purpose of this...experience.  Look at things and she how they apply to you, but what I'd want to do first is fully absorb the narratives.  Let your empathy grow, ask clarifying questions to yourself and even to me!  After you feel like have understood the current narrative you're reading as much as you can, then began applying it.  Breathing is a lifelong process, slow your breath, focus on your breathing, allow yourself to hear the heartbeats then breathe out.

P.S. I don't know how often I will continue to post up.  Right now, I'm doing it as I feel the urge, and I have a lot of urges right now.  I'm exhaling and loving it.  Potentially, I might blog like weekly, or I might feel the need to not do it anymore (I don't expect this).  Let me know what you think.  Are you interested in posts that come:

A. Weekly, or
B. As The Urge Comes?

Reply back and let me know.
Breathing...

Hello! Are you a Friend, Donor, Or Potentially Prejudiced?

Just when I'm enjoying my food...

 So this past Saturday morning, my wife, daughter and I ventured to Hy-Vee (a local supermarket) to enjoy breakfast together.  I have to say, I LOVE HY-VEE breakfast.  Lots of food for little price (they didn't even pay me to say that)! As we were enjoying our little family time, a elderly white man came up to me and look at me with a stunned and awed expression.  He said, "Did I coach you when you were in High School?"

Seems innocent enough right?  Simple question, simple answer.  However as he started to explain himself, I've observed the evidence he used to connect me to his memory.  He said that my "build" was the same as that guy...interesting.  I also noticed that he didn't have any other neutral descriptors to describe my uncanny similarity to this guy.  He thought my age to be around the mid-20's (I guess that's a compliment).  He finds out that I am NOT the guy he thought I was.  My wife then invites him to sit with us, and he declines.  He says, "my wife is over there and we'll be leaving soon."  Funny, he was still there when WE left...

My wife and I reflected on this a bit, she says, "Well, maybe that could've been a donor for the ministry?"  She's right you know.  This could have been a great moment where a random guy who thinks I'm some other black guy could begin to care about ministry to college students. I 100% raise all the money I use for  ministry and for my family to live off of.   This is the way I think about things ALL THE TIME!  The problem is, IT'S EXHAUSTING!

TELL THE TRUTH SISTA!

I'm always looking at people (mainly the majority white culture) where I live and I ask myself, "Are you a friend? Could you have a heart to support ministry to college students? Are you potentially harboring negative attitudes towards blacks, or all of the above?" How can I be asked to figure this out all the time?  I wouldn't be surprised if friends of mine were to say, "Tony, just treat everybody like they're not prejudice.  Be positive!"  What they or you might not know, is that I did this before.  When I was a freshman coming to the University of Iowa, I knew instantly that I was going to be one of the few who look like me and came from a similar socioeconomic background.  I didn't want to be seen as "the angry black guy." I wanted to assume the best about everyone around me. So I came to the university saying, "Don't worry everyone, I'm just Tony, don't worry about race stuff with me!"

"WE HERE TOO!  It's O-V-E-R!"

I lived in temporary housing with nine other guys and with this posture I was able to befriend most of those guys.  Seemed like a pretty sweet circumstance, right?  Not even close.  The days after I made this declaration, things started to change for the worse.  I remember playing a hockey video game and it was 2 on 2.  I was partnered with a guy who happened to be Jewish and the other folks were from some suburb in Illinois.  I remember them declaring the game, "Minorities vs Majorities." What did you just say?  Never mind.  As my Jewish friend and I began to win in this game, the other guys got upset.  Normally this was the case whenever pre-adults play games, but this one had racial tones to it.  "How could they win?  I bet neither of them had ever played hockey in real life. We know hockey better than them."  The "them" was very striking to our ears...

It all came to a head when an African American female friend of mine came to visit me.  She was the only other person from my community who came to Iowa.  She says hello to everyone in my room, everyone responds, but this one guy, "Abe."  She goes, "excuse me, HELLO!"  "Abe" goes, "yeah, hi."  It seemed uneventful, and my friend can be sassy, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  Once she left, right in front me, he goes, "B#TCH!"  That was it for me.  I grabbed him and threw him across the table and said to him, "If you ever call my friend that again, I'll punch you in the f#ckin' face!"  

In retaliation, "Abe" says, "Well, THE ONLY REASON YOU'RE IN COLLEGE IS BECAUSE YOU'RE BLACK!"

"Wait! What?"  

And Yet opinions still HURT, D@mn...

What does THAT have to do with our argument?  How could he know that a statement like this could even hurt me? Is this what happens for other white folks when they're enraged enough?  In that instance, it clicked for me.  I didn't free my circumstances of racial issues, I personally exasperated the environment by giving others the authority to define me.  "Race doesn't bother me" I said, "Just treat me as Tony" I communicated.  In reality they're response was, "It doesn't bother you huh?  Cool, let me say the most prejudice things I can imagine."  They had so much freedom to say whatever that even this guy involuntarily blurted it out in the middle of a heated exchange.  

After this exchange, my roommates began to make my life a living hell.  When they stuffed all of my belongings and college textbooks into a garbage can and put it in front of my bed, I knew then I was building this whole thing the wrong way... The person who understands me the best outside of Jesus is ME!  M-E! I set the standard of how I want to be treated, not those around me. I've allowed this situation happen to me time and time again.  You probably know I'm talking about!  I've allowed others to define because I don't want to be offensive or critical or misunderstanding, but isn't it FREAKIN HUMAN to misunderstand, to sometimes be critical or even offensive?  

I wasn't making a humane step towards racial reconciliation, I was devaluing my own humanity. I am fearfully and wonderfully made, ethnicity, personality, body and all!  I LIKE ME! We each deserve to be fearfully and wonderfully appreciated for who we are,  and not have to mute our ethnic, cultural, and socioeconomic identity.  We are the spice to our world, and I was choosing to water my flavor down...

So, the elderly man goes back to his table, and I'm wondering to myself, "How eugenic was that of him!"  In that short 5 minute exchange and 10 minutes of reflection with my wife, I was tired and I took a nap when I got home.

Where the HELL are all the black people?

Do you see where the black people are located? How many? I count seven...

I have not lived on the South Side of Chicago since I was 18 years old.  Up until then, I've only truly known the black experience and what it meant to be black living in a poor neighborhood.  It was, "We all had nothing don't complain about it." I respected that line of thought and look out my windows to see the Chicago Skyline and wonder to myself, "What is it like to live there?" "What are the people like when they're not from around here?" 

Now that I live on the other side, I usually start out with a  "Oh Lord!" and a "Help Me Jesus!" Then I'd ask, "what in the world was I thinking?" Don't get me wrong! I love where I live right now, In Iowa City, IA.  There's a lot of friends and relationships I've been able to build since being in this city.  However, there are days where I'm just sitting in church, or sitting at a coffee shop, or just people watching, and I say to myself, "WHERE IN THE HELL ARE ALL THE BLACK PEOPLE!" 

Cultural Isolation can feel like prison!

I've gotten down on myself. I got depressed. I would isolate myself from people and family.  I'd look like I was in prison with no hope for parole!  Sometimes it really feels like prison.  But you see, I'm a man of faith, a man who is trying to follow God while in a foreign land, and sometimes you get homesick.  A LOT OF THE TIME you get homesick!  But where is home?  Is Iowa City home for me now? How do I accept this?  Will I be rejected by others because I don't fit in either place anymore? 

So, I thought to myself and said, "self?" and myself said, "huh?" "What if we allowed ourself to not despair or cut ourselves away from people and just took time to get it all out?"  I said to self, "What a great idea!"  So that's what I'm doing, I've created this blog, "Black Man/White World" to be a place for me to share my expressions, observations, frustrations, pain, and joys about the life I'm leading in a seemingly foreign place.  I'm blogging to you to allow you to see if only but a glimpse of what life is like for me from the inside.  

Maybe it will lead you to greater empathy...maybe you'll feel confirmed in your assumptions..maybe you'll feel challenged...either way, I'm not that worried about you (no offense), you're strong and you can make it.  This is me communicating me, you can take it or leave it, shout at me, reply back, high-five me, just know that when you communicate, know that you're only getting a small picture, never the whole slice, you're limited, and most people can learn and understand more when they accept those limitations.

I'll be blunt, I may share a few "words" about things.  I may not always communicate the clearest, I may say, "h#ll" or "sh!t" or "d@mn" a few times here or there.  I may also surprise you by my ability to articulate deep feelings and emotions, or you may get bored and not read it again.  

High Cheek Bones!

Here's my response to that (Tony smiles).  

Notice how high my cheek bones get when I think about trying to please you and only you...  Its my response in saying, "Good for you! I'm going to keep moving, and you are too."  So here's to a journey we might 

both be taking together, may God guide us, help us to laugh at ourselves, help us to grieve the hard things, helps us to be challenged appropriately, and help us to remember and grow and endure! 

May we both survive it!