My Brother, My Brother

Welcome to THEJNSREPORT’S: My Brother, My Brother

The other night while talking about the World Cup with a friend, the topic of black unity came up. Our conversation began with the retelling of a moment my friend had recently experienced however brief in its length as something that he said still shocked and frustrated him. I asked what he was referring to more specifically.

He said he’d been out somewhere waiting at a street corner attempting to hail a cab. He was dressed casual with jeans, an open button down long sleeve with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a tank top underneath. He had on his black Movado watch he’d gotten as a graduation gift and his new Retro Jordan 13’s.

He heard someone behind him suck their teeth loudly and turned to see who it was. When he turned around he saw a slender brother with a XXL Tshirt and pants sagging down to the backs of his hamstrings showing all his underwear. The brother looked him up and down and shook his head disapprovingly.

I asked if he knew the guy. My friend said he’d never seen him before. He went on to say “That’s why black folks won’t go no where. We hate on each other for no reason. I said the world fears the day that there is black unity. To which my friend replied “It’s not gonna happen, we’ll never see it”. I began to hope he wasn’t right in his assessment. I felt as though he was telling the truth.

We’d never see black unity when we hate on instead of cheering on our black success stories. Hating on the next man for doing well for himself and not becoming a statistic.

We as black people have enough to deal with than to add gasoline to a fire by hating on ourselves. There are many things I’m prideful of in my heritage and culture but there is also a lot of shame and embarrassment for a lot of negative things my heritage and people continue to endure. Grand Puba’s “Change Gonna Come” speaks to this.