When You Think About It. African American History Month

You may be hearing the year 1619 quite a bit lately. It’s a seminal date in African American history as it was the year when 20 black African slaves were introduced into what would eventually become The United States of America at the nascent Jamestown settlement in Virginia. It is therefore often cited as the beginning of the black African presence here.

That may be a convenient date. However, the history of Africans in The New World is much longer and much more complicated.

The presence of black Africans in the Americas, mostly as slaves, can be traced back to the late 1400’s with their presence in what would become part of the modern United States as early as 1526.

That’s a nearly 500-year presence.

And, for far too much of that time, Africans have born the burden of bondage in one form or another. Remember, millions of others came to these shores bearing hardship and tragedy, but virtually only black Africans were brought here completely against their will and literally in chains.

Now, we say we have made progress with eliminating racism like that’s a badge of honor! But shouldn’t we be questioning why our society is so deeply rooted in racism in the 1^st place???

But have we really?

Just to prove how far we still must go, another young black man was literally beaten to death for mostly just being BLACK – and in the ultimate irony, by 5 other black policemen!!

So, yes, February may be African American, a.k.a. Black History Month when we celebrate the contributions, against staggering odds, of our black brothers and sisters but what does it really mean if there is no justice. Without it, there can be no peace.

When You Think About: Santos and the GOP. Perfect Together

First, let it be said that I ALWAYS felt that George Santos was a phony - from the very first time that I saw him.

I had no idea who he was as he was not a candidate in my voting district. But, of course, as an unexpected winner for Congress in his, he was being given a considerable amount of coverage on the local TV news.

I was watching his victory speech with my girlfriend. Much to her dismay, I'm sure, she will have to act as my witness; from the very first frame of video, I swear that I could tell that he was an out-and-out phony. In fact, once again as my girlfriend would attest, I was flabbergast that I seemed to be the only one noticing! I mean, his supporters were roaring in the background.

Everything about Santos (the name he is currently being identified as), to me, reeked of insincerity: his smile, his body language, his clothing, his copious amounts of what appeared to be make-up, his remarkably straight, ultra-white teeth, spray-on tan, and his "little boy" haircut.

Of course, at this point, none of the details had been released defining him as a lying sack of shit. It was just a feeling, a vibe. I've been a photographer for a LONG time and one of the keys to any success I may have had lies with my ability to get a sense of people/situations to capture them in the light of THEIR truth.

Frankly, I couldn't believe that he was elected. But, obviously, he was chosen by the voters and their decision would have to be respected. (How all of his deceit went undetected by his opponents and the press until now is a story for another post.)

That is until HIS SHIT STORM OF LIES TOOK OVER HIS LIFE!

Rather than spend a considerable about of time to document ALL of his blatant LIES, let me streamline the process by simply saying, if his lips are moving, he's lying. He tries to defend himself (when he bothers to) by saying they're not lies but embellishments. Screw that - I know a lie when I hear one!

I'm not a psychiatrist but I think it safe to say that the man has some type of pathological condition that simply prevents him from telling the truth.

But, that's not my problem or ultimate concern. What IS is the Republican response to the situation.

Mr. Santos, despite a growing groundswell of opposition, refuses to resign and, so far, the GOP leadership, led by Kevin McCarthy, has not only generally turned a blind eye, has even appointed Santos to a few important Congressional committees! 

Any reasonable person should/would legitimately ask, why, especially in the face of such irrefutable evidence, would you do so?

Well, the answer is simply - and, unfortunately, typical of today's Trumpian GOP; they need his head count to keep their razor thin majority in the House - thereby, once again, demonstrating their lust for power over the integrity of our very Nation.

Obviously, they deserve one another.

Today's MOZEN: Color Blind

Growing up in the 60's in Fort Lee, NJ wasn't exactly like "Leave It To Beaver". But it sure wasn't quite "The Jeffersons" either.

Neighborhoods were not flashy but, rather, solidly working-class with a fair amount of ethnic diversity featuring a healthy mix of Irish, Italians, Christians, and Jews. However, the racial component was virtually lily white. There were a handful of Asian families but I can't recall a single black family that we even knew of much less associated with. In fact, I really didn't experience any aspect of black life until I attended university at Rutgers in Newark!

However, despite that deprivation, since I was so into athletics as a young man, most of my roll models were black! I don't think that it was some type of spiritual awareness but much more practical: I loved playing football and most of my favorite players were, well, black.

I remember my first encounter with a professional football player - who also happened to be black. His name was Sherman White and he was making an appearance at the local Shop Rite. I was about 12 or 13 and since I lived just a few blocks away, I walked to the store early so that I could get a good spot to meet him.

When I did, I thought I saw a god. He was big. He was handsome. He was incredibly well-dressed, and his dark skin made him look like he was carved out of a block of ebony. I swear his feet never touched the ground when he walked - like a mythical black panther.

It never occurred to me that role models came in particular "colors." Now, I understand that it is important to see others who look like us and have achieved great success to show us the possibilities - especially for minority communities. But, at that time, it simply didn't matter to me - he was a pro and he looked and acted the part. That was fine by me.

Furthermore, my favorite player on my favorite team (the NY Giants), Ron Johnson, was African-American. I even wore his jersey #30 in his honor for my entire playing career. I even went to great lengths to find and wear Puma football shoes - just as he did.

Of course, my parents played an important part in emphasizing the only truly important thing about a person is their strength of character, not the color of their skin. That just seemed natural to me - and it still does.

Today's MOZEN: A MOST VIOLENT GAME

In my day, I was a pretty damned good football player, mostly as a defensive specialist - good enough to be named captain of both my high school and college teams. Unfortunately, most of those teams weren't very good but that's not the point of this post.

What IS most important was that I loved playing - until I didn't.

I have to admit right off that part of my initial attraction was that it IS a violent game and I was so gentle in my soul as a boy I was afraid that if I didn't "toughen up" I would never make it in the world I was most familiar with - both my father and his brother were excellent players in their day and I wanted to make them proud. In fact, my father would go through great lengths to attend my games and often offer needed and eagerly accepted advice after a contest.

On the other hand, my mother hated everything about football; so much so that she never attended any of my games AND I had to hide ALL injuries I may have incurred (and I had a few) from her - my father instructing me, for the sake of peace and harmony, to "keep it between us".

So, in a very real sense, I had something to prove, mostly to myself, and football would be that vehicle.

I wasn't very big at all but I was quick, strong, and fearless. I followed the instructions from my coaches to make punishing tackles by "putting my face in there". I did that so many times that I stopped counting how many times that I broke or damaged my nose! Still, I persisted. That was the point - persistence against all odds.

For as many punishing hits that I delivered I received back, in at least equal measure, every blow leaving a lasting impression - even now when I close my eyes tightly, I can still envision the little flashes of light that came with EVERY blow to my head. Still, I believe that I managed to escape that violent game mostly with no long-lasting ill effects.

So, one would reasonably ask, why would someone expose themselves to such potential harm - for fun?

Well, like the game, the reasons, at least for me, are complex.

I had something very personal to prove, especially to myself. And, in it's own way, football did that for me. For every time I was knocked down, I found a way to get up. I'm sure that there are better ways to learn this but it worked for me!

And, the nature of the game itself is one that can bring awe to the observer. Allow me to explain: in my post-football career, one of my jobs was as a news cameraman. As part of my duties, I was able to shoot some professional football games from Giants Stadium. I also had the privilege of photographing multiple space shuttle launches. And, I will say this; being on the sidelines for both is an awesome experience of power and explosive energy, the only difference is that one is mechanical and the other completely natural.

However, at one point, the game held nothing for me BUT violence. Besides, I had pushed a 5'10", 190 lb. body as far as it would go. I was NOT going to be a professional football player. And, you know what, it all worked out in the end.

I suppose that George Sauer, the late, great NY Jet wide receiver who quit at the height of his career, said it best when writing for the NY Times (paraphrasing):

Football is a game of great contrasts. On one hand there is incredible skill and grace and on the other, brutal violence. When I could no longer rationalize the difference between the two, I quit.

Of course, at this time, our attention lies with Damar Hamlin of the Buffalo Bills. May he recovery fully and continue his life unabated.