THE BRIDGE: Crazy
By
Darryl James
crazy
(kra'ze) adj. 1. Mad. Insane. 2. Very enthusiastic. 3. Very impractical.
I'll
take the label...
I've heard it a lot over the years, and even more so over the past
few months. I've mostly heard it in small voices, whispered as I leave
the room. I've often heard it from third parties, since the scared
little rabbits who utter it are too timid to even imagine saying it
to my face. As technology advanced, I began to hear it via email.
What I've heard, I believe men like Dr. Martin Luther King, Malcolm
X, Marcus Garvey, and even Jesus Christ heard during their lives and
times. Not that I dare to place myself on the same level or in the
same company of such great men, but if I'm being given the same label,
then maybe I'm actually on to something.
What I've heard is "Darryl James is crazy."
And maybe I am.
Perhaps because I am unafraid to stand for what I believe is right,
and for what I believe is just, no matter the consequences, then I
am crazy. Dr King, a man of peace said "A man who doesn't have
something for which he is prepared to die, is not fit to live."
People called him crazy for that.
Perhaps because I am carving my own way, creating my own destiny and
urging others to do the same, then I am crazy. I believe that Blacks
ought to reverse integration. Marcus Garvey urged Black folks to return
to Africa.
People called him crazy for that.
Perhaps because I don't believe in turning the other cheek, and that
if you do harm to me, I have the right to defend myself by any means
necessary, then, like Malcolm X, I am crazy.
Perhaps because I often take the cause of the underdog, the weak,
the voiceless or the outcast, or those shunned by the masses, then
like Jesus Christ of Nazareth, I am crazy.
Or, perhaps, because I have seen, read, heard, touched, tasted, smelled,
crapped on and slept near too much of the cold reality that this nation
can dish out to a Black man, it has driven me to a life on the edge.
The angry, ignorant women and sissified little men with safe little
lives who call me crazy would be quick to look for the refuge found
in the company of one so crazy when the realities of being colored
in this nation come to serve their asses. They couldn't survive one
week being in the shoes of Malcolm, Martin or even Darryl James.
And they couldn't survive one of their worthless minutes living in
the shoes of men of color like Nelson Mandela, who stayed in prison
for twenty-six years on principle.
Standing for something with integrity and fortitude gets you labeled
as crazy these days.
It's simply not the popular thing to do.
But I've never pursued only that which is popular.
For all of the ugly things people say about some our so-called "craziest,"
they have more plans to work for our community than the window-dressing,
self-serving public figures like Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton.
Crazy is prepared for men like Cornell West, an educator who shouldn't
be half as vocal as he is, or Michael Eric Dyson, a "hip hop
intellectual and a streetfighter in a suit and a tie." Crazy
lies in wait for Black men who walk into gang territory to take back
our communities, or Black mothers who make their children believe
that they are princes and princesses and can rule the world. Crazy
is reserved for men like Magic Johnson, for believing that urban American
can be economically revitalized.
Crazy is reserved for Kanye West, who believes that he should be able
to rap abut God while people are dancing, because God is everywhere-even
when we are on the dance floor. Crazy is also reserved for Prince
who believes that a Black artist ought to have control over his or
her art.
Sad, but people will call me crazy for writing this.
The same little rabbits who call Darryl James crazy, wouldn't dare
say it to my face.
They know that I have no problem returning their evil to them and
forcing them to live with it, because I am not afraid of evil. Their
greatest fear is that I will show them that which they fear. And it
confuses them that I am not a gangster, nor am I some uneducated street
thug.
The most feared man in the nation is a Black man with an education
and what I call "testicular fortitude" (you figure it out).
To quote Public Enemy's Chuck D: "the minute they see me, fear
me, the epitome of public enemy." Sadly, this applies to both
whites and Blacks.
The real problem is that Black people have been diminished and have
become soft over the past three decades. The image of the Black man
has been defined and redefined by so many outside of us, that many
of us have no idea what one really looks like. Our image is so out
of whack, that when a man shows up with principles based on something
real, people don't know how to deal with him and he seems insane to
them. Some of us get labeled as crazy and gangster for being so bold
as to face and confront.
So, I've learned that I can't do everything in the light. I've learned
that I can neither look too good nor talk too wise. Everything is
not for everyone and I won't always be understood.
Most importantly, I've learned that I am not alone.
Secretly, the scared little rabbits hope that I will continue to stand
up and stand out. They know it will call attention away from them.
So, call me crazy. Just don't call me when they come to get you.
