Op Ed
Why Do You Hate All the Black Men?
When I was in 5th grade at PS 398 in Brooklyn, NY, I had a teacher whom I have no love lost for; Mrs. Thompson. From what I can remember, she was a bit of an old, out of touch, ornery woman, built like an old school nun and seemed to have a special distaste for the boys in the classroom. Now I could be wrong because after all, we are talking about the critical thinking mind of a 10 year old who made these complex character assessments probably after profound discussions like âwould King Kong beat Godzilla in a fair fight?â Be that as it may, I had gotten so upset at her constant acrimony towards us that one day after class, I snuck back into the classroom and wrote on the chalkboard in 260 pt font âWHY DO YOU FAVOR THE GIRLS?â
Needless to say, the entire class saw my social graffiti the next morning and Mrs. Thompson was none too pleased. I somehow didnât get in trouble but she knew it was me (Iâm left handed and I write like a distressed deer that stumbled into a lionâs sweet sixteen party.) Penmanship aside, it seems the time has come again for me to ask the modern day version of Mrs. Thompson (The internets) ⊠âWhy Do You Hate All the Black Men?â
Iâm really not a fan of the current âThe black woman is the least protectedâ movement. Of all the Af-Am women and men that I know personally, I canât think of one man who wouldnât or hasnât come to a womanâs aid when necessary and I canât think of one woman (again, that I know personally) who doesnât have a man of Af-Am descent in their life who would come to their aid at a momentâs notice. Now I am not oblivious to the fact that there are many men, many many many many men, who have put women in harmâs way or have been the oneâs who women have needed protection from. The truth is the truth and in order for your truth to be respected, acknowledged and equally believed, you must also be open to the truths of others. So I want make it 100% clear that ladies, I HEAR AND BELIEVE YOU. My
contention has never been if not feeling protected in your communities is a reality but rather, that BLACK MEN are some how less adept than any other race of men.
I do not ever discount how black women feel. What I take contention with is that the issue of feeling unprotected is somehow an issue specific to Af-Am women. When we make it race specific, we paint a public picture of yet another perceived deficiency in the black community when women on a whole, regardless of race and region are not protected. Iâm sure Asian and Middle Eastern women would feel they are the least protected. My argument (sad as it is) is simply âIf he ainât shit, itâs probably not because heâs black.â
I KNOW the black man is the least protected and most exploited historically and because of that trend, statements like these tend to roll off everyone’s tongue with ease. Sexism and stereotypes are the root cause of a majority of these issues between the sexes but because that is too daunting to tackle, we cherry pick what is closest to us and place blame.
We all need to be taught and no one comes with preset instructions. I absolutely believe that there are men who know how to protect a woman (physically, emotionally, spiritually, etc.) and men who need to be taught. Call me crazy but I assume there arenât a bunch of White, Indian, Spanish, Middle Eastern and Asian men with capes on, ready to swoop in at a moments notice and save their respective cultural counterparts and ethnic empresses. I also venture to guess, like âblack on blackâ crime, the ratios and sentiments are most likely comparable across all races.
Whomever you are, please, if you can stop making certain things a black issue when it may just be a common issue and the person who you hold responsible happens to be of Af-Am descent, it would be appreciated.
When Brooklyn Has Fallen and you have that one guy who will leave his job and run across town on foot to protect you, whether heâs a friend, family or otherwise, heâs not gonna appreciate when you publicly decree you have no one to protect you.
Sidebar: I remember being 13 years old and not knowing what to do when some dude had cursed my mom out. I remember my dad getting in my a$$ for that when he found out. I remember being an adult and someone tried to raise their voice at my mom while I was in the vicinity at an airport. I remember the police having to escort me away because I was about to hop over the counter at Alaskan Airlines and drag this clown up and down the airport. Lesson learned. Sidebar Complete!
Almost every year for the past 6 years and on the same day, Iâve posted the same pic of me in the hospital during my temporary and untimely demise in 2015. A few weeks after I was back to ânormalâ, I asked Eric âWhyâd you take the pics?â And he said, âI knew you would want to write about it if you lived.â Eric was right. Eric was often right and Eric always had my best interest at heart. I am going to miss my friend.
You ever meet someone and become friends immediately?! Well this was not the case with Eric. Before he was my manager at Morgan Stanley, I would often see this 6â4″, giant white guy walk up to the only black woman at work, say something then walk away without any hint of human emotion. Naturally I thought he was a jerk until I asked her âYo, is that dude bothering you?â She laughed and proceeded to tell me he was a great person, which I ultimately got to experience first hand. Little did I know this Italian from Staten Island was more Brooklyn than most Brooklynites.
Eric was not with the shits!! If there were ever someone who lived their life in direct, honest and no uncertain terms, that would be Eric. He would ask me questions at work like âWhy are the other consultants making more money than you?â I knew the answer to that question and so did he. Eric then proceeded to increase my salary by 15K. After arguing with all our managers that âYou need to hire Alfred!â, they eventually did 1 year prior to the 2015 incident. In the hospital, one of my friends asked me, âWhat if you didnât have health insurance when this happened?â I would be in debt for the rest of my life is the obvious answer. I still am in debt for the rest of my life but at least, it is to those who made sure I had a more enjoyable life and for that, I will gladly repay.
My mom loved to tell me the story of how she met Eric. After they told her I was going to be in the ICU for some time, she told the doctor âWell Iâm not going anywhere.â She then hears a voice from that back of the room that says âWell Iâm not going anywhere either!â That was Eric and in true form, he was at that hospital every single day until I was discharged.
Eric passed away in December 2021 of stage 4 cancer. After feeling faint on his way to my bbq, he went to get checked out and was diagnosed. During the past 5 years, Eric lost his mom, twin brother and dad. I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have felt like but I’m glad that pain he was feeling is no more.
From being my manager to my business partner, writer, book editor, artistic director, and most importantly, my friend, I am going to miss you MC Krispy E a.k.a âEnrique Pollazo!â And although you told me Enrique means Henry in Spanish and not Eric, it was too late!
Sidebar. The day I was discharged, while everyone was deciding what was best for me, no one had remembered that I would need clothes in order to leave the hospital. Eric shows up (unasked) with all the clothes I had on the day I coded, laundered and ready to go. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve friends like this but i need to keep doing it! Sidebar complete.
Rest in Peace Eric. âBe Good.â
