Thank You, Joseph Jackson: An Homage to Black Fatherhood

I know, we've all heard or read the stories of mean 'ole' Joe Jackson, the menacing patriarch of the Jackson clan, who "traumatized" his children into becoming the greatest family entertainment franchise since the Bachs of the Baroque period. This Arkansas native whose own children never referred to him as father or dad "terrorized" them so, that they could only find "refuge" in worldwide fame and untold wealth. Joseph Jackson is a man so "disturbed" that he actually raised a son with such compassion that his charity work makes Angelina Jolie look like Leona Helmsly. As if that isn't "bad" enough "Monster Joe" actually stood by his late son's side (and vigorously defended him), along with his entire "dysfunctional" family, every single day of those infamous child molestation allegations and trials (for which he was cleared of all charges). So what in the world am I doing thanking this "beast?"


Flawed, I have absolutely no doubt that Mr. Jackson is very much so. In fact, I have no doubt that some of the late Michael Joseph Jackson's questionable behavior and identity issues are rooted in his strained relationship with his father. After all, our identity and validation comes directly from our fathers. I have no doubt that there was a longing in the heart of the late superstar, possibly common to all of his siblings in which he desired a deeper, more intimate, relationship for which he may have never experienced. However, may I suggest when we think of the Joe Jacksons of the world, perhaps we should look at them in the whole, as oppose to the filtered pieces we've been fed.

I am no Joe Jackson biographer, but, it doesn't take a genius to know that Joseph Jackson is a hard man, molded by even harder times. This is not uncommon for men of his age, especially Black men born, like Joe Jackson, in the deep South (Arkansas). As a father, one can only assume he did what he knew. It is very likely his father was just like him, in fact, he might have been worse. But, there is also that glaring factor about being Black in the Western Hemisphere we seldom ever acknowledge; you have to be twice as good to get just as much. Such factors, in addition to a multitude of others, particularly during that time might have led to some overzealous parenting. However, such factors have also produced many great legacies as well; much like the one for which we celebrate and mourn at this very hour. We know gold is purified by way of severe heat, diamonds are produced via intense pressure, and butterflies come forth only by way of painful metamorphosis, yet, we seem bewildered that genius like that of the Gloved One was rooted and forged in such a manner. "My son, do not despise the Lord's discipline and do not resent His rebuke, because the Lord disciplines those He loves, as a father the son he delights.*" Michael's is hardly a life to be mourned or pitied. In more ways than the obvious it can be envied. How many wannabes, should be's and could have beens are living lives far beneath their worth because they never had a father committed to their perfection? It is clear, flaws and all, there would be no Michael Jackson or Jackson legacy had there been no Joseph Jackson to mold them. One of the great paradoxes of fatherhood is that, no matter how well intentioned your chastening, you run the risk of incurring the wrath of your children.

Perhaps it was that boyish voice, his almost painfully, demure, personality, or his slight and sometimes frail physique that might have caused us to look upon the late King of Pop, as a timid and tortured man-child yearning for a childhood he supposedly never knew. But, a second and unmystified glance will certainly grant a rather vivid reality, that our favorite Peter Pan was as fierce as Captain Hook. Every ounce of the Michael Jackson brand was diligently and carefully crafted, and maintained via a monk like discipline. From the stage, to the mystique, to the boardroom, by all accounts (and some commonsense observation) Michael Jackson was a force to be reckoned with, hardly the wilting flower we were so thoroughly convinced to believe he was. No matter what Hollywood tells you, genius is no accident. Even the most divinely gifted need cultivation.

Joseph Jackson's imperfections may very well exceed anything we can ever know, but I haven't a doubt in my mind, he loved Michael Jackson and continues to love his children. Despite himself, 'ole' Joe had to do something right, as did the fathers of such luminaries as, Michelle Obama, Prince, Will Smith, Oprah Winfrey, Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, Beyonce Knowles, Venus and Serena Williams, the Winans family, Roy Jones, Jr., Kobe Bryant, Ervin "Magic" Johnson, and Floyd Mayweather, Jr., among a great many others. Every single one of these icons (and icons to be), including the Jacksons, cite their fathers as the reason for their success; and despite the various degrees of those relationships (some better than others), they have all unanimously declared that they would not change a thing. In an age which applauds the chastisement of dead beat Black fathers from the likes of Bill Cosby, President Obama, and of course every other ranting and moralizing Conservative (as if the African American community has a patent on degenerate fatherhood), I think it only fitting that the same zeal be applied to applauding those Black fathers who have produced some of our nation's greatest and most revered icons, and that includes Joseph Jackson.

*Proverbs 3:12

Copyright 2009 Johnathan L. Iverson Baptiste

The Best of My Fathers

You never really know how powerful you are until you become a father. It's simultaneously frightening and wonderful when you consider the sheer magnitude of the role. I take nothing away from mothers, but, considering the fact that this is Father's Day weekend, the only Holiday that actually puts a spotlight on men, I will focus solely on what it is to be a father. It wasn't until I lost my own father over a decade ago did I realize how important he was to me. However, it wasn't until I became a father did I realize how much I missed. I often think to myself how much he would have loved his grandchildren and how much they would have loved him. I was a most fortunate child. When one considers the fact that you can neither choose your parents or the conditions for which you are placed on this earth, I am surely blessed. According to every headline, statistic, and newsreel, my life is a miracle.

My fortune, my greatest gift, has indeed been my mother. From there everything fell into place. From her I never saw or heard of the impossible, all things were possible. From her I learned early, of the flaws of human nature, and that sometimes, even often, those whom we trust the most can cause us the deepest hurt. From her I learned to forgive my father before I even knew of his offense. Never did I hear an unkind word about him. Never did an unkind word come from her lips against me. Love and truth were in abundance. This is how I found salvation. "God is your father," imagine a four year old hearing that?"People will fail, even me..." imagine a four year old hearing that?! She never once sought to make light of my passage into this life. "This is not the ideal...this was not God's plan and it was certainly not mine...but, you are not a mistake." So as you can imagine, for me this lady was a living Superwoman. I can appreciate how easy it is to deify women. You carry so much. However, my mother was quick to let my brother and I know, she was no man. "I am not your father(s)...there are things I can never, ever give you...questions I will never be able to answer." Thus, the realization of my handicap. Who was going to navigate my way toward manhood?

But, alas, for reasons I cannot explain, God gave me grace. I was blessed with a variety of upstanding surrogates. Men like my Godfather, Joseph Wigfall, himself an artist and a man of deep principle, the late -great Dr. Walter J. Turnbull,* who literally made it his life's work to guide boys along the treacherous road toward manhood, my uncle, the late-great Willie Ben Iverson, who overcame a youth saddled with hatred toward his own father to become our family patriarch and a beacon of hope for countless men and boys in his community, my older brother, the Rev. David Sterling, who did his very best to teach me all that he knew, despite his own challenges, and a whole host of marvelous men of every age and every hue, who cared enough about me to give me their ear, their wisdom, their time, and their love.

My father, though a cameo performer in my life, was still significant. Every time I was with him it mattered. I felt complete in his presence. Our time, though sporadic, was meaningful. However, our last moments as I later realized would arguably be the most sacred moment of my entire life. It was, Thursday, March 25, 1999. We were parked in his car across the street from my barbershop in Harlem. This is symbolic, because as most Black men will agree, for us, the barbershop is the most liberating place on earth. The only place, aside from our own homes where we can take off the social mask and be ourselves, unjudged and unfiltered. It's the place which we are fully understood, accepted, and affirmed. Moreover, the barbershop has also acted as a safe haven for many a black boy seeking to absorb any remnant of manhood that could be found. Various generations and experiences congregating in one space, issuing sweet and essential nuggets of wisdom, coupled with often hard, yet, necessary clusters of truth, all the while grooming you to face the world for yet another week. It was there my father and I sat, in front of the place which played substitute to him on many occasions.

He had been anxious to see me for over a month. My life during this time had gone into overdrive. I was overwhelmed by new found success and I wasn't necessarily the most pleasant person to be around. We had agreed to meet at 1pm at my mother's apartment. She made us lunch, we ate, and headed to the barbershop. He eased into why he needed to see me. Being the proud Caribbean* that he was, he immediately let me know that it was "'your mother's idea' that we spend more time together." He gave me some much needed advice about handling my money, keeping in touch with those closest to me and in his broken, yet, sincere manner he began to explain himself. He revealed the hatred he harbored for his own father and how in many ways that hatred caused him to become the very man he hated. Like him, his father was unable to live faithfully with the wife of his youth (or any woman for that matter), like him, his father was abused, and like him, his father was abandoned. He told me how he had to learn to forgive his father, and in his own broken and sincere way hoped I would do the same for him. My heart wept. All this time and he hadn't known how much I loved him. He hadn't known that I'd forgiven him long ago. Indeed, "our doubts are traitors to things we oft might win, by fearing to attempt."* No child wants their father to be Superman, he just needs him to be. For I had learned that no one, not even a child, has the right to exalt another human being beyond their own capacity.

Suddenly, it happened in just a few words. He said the very thing that has stayed with me for over a decade. The words that haunt, yet, inspire me whenever my humanity and the sins of my fathers threaten to overcome me... "you have to be a better man than me." Struggling against his pride, I could hear a restrained yearning in his voice when he said it: "you have to be a better man than me." With those words he had given me a father's greatest gift, validation. A father's validation or approval can never, ever be underestimated. Those words and the manner in which he said them made it clear to me that despite himself, he had the utmost confidence in me to end the very cycle which had ravaged our family for decades. Despite himself, he figuratively laid his hands on me, as the patriarchs of old and gave me his blessing. Perhaps one might think it unfair to issue such a responsibility without having equipped the recipient. However, if truth be told, it is neither a question of what is fair? or how this is to be done? But, rather an act of faith on the part of the one giving the blessing. Certainly, he could not see nor predict the kind of man I would become. But, I am convinced that he saw in me the best of himself, and that I indeed possessed the capacity to exceed him and our fathers. Thus, he believed in me and when your father believes in you, nothing is impossible. Alas, I was the son in whom he was well pleased. Alas, I was whole.

Sometime during the afternoon of Friday, March 26th he was gone from this world. This was without a doubt the most traumatic period of my life. Yet, in the midst of my sorrow, I found myself grateful to God for having equipped me with the love needed to forgive and understand my father for who he was. I was grateful because through love, I was equipped to accept my father's greatest gift to me, and it is through that love that I am able to allow the best of my fathers to live through me. I sometimes ponder who I would be had I allowed myself to be consumed by the sting of my father's absence? I shudder from the very thought.

Today, with my beloved children, his grandchildren, I am everything I so desired him to be and I know he would be proud. Among the greatest joys of my life is that my children actually take my presence in their lives for granted. They simply believe in me. What a remarkable responsibility? Ideally my hope is that I leave my children a good name and an honorable heritage. But, above all else, I pray they know now and all the days of their precious lives, that despite my humanity, I believe in them and that I am well pleased.

"When the sins of our fathers visit us
We do not have to play host.
We can banish them with forgiveness
As God, in His Largeness and Laws."

August Wilson

*Founder, The Boys Choir of Harlem
* Trinidad-Tobago
*From Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare

Copyright 2009 Johnathan L. Iverson Baptiste

The Overexposure of Barack Obama: A Lesson in Feigned News

FINALLY! They got him. Can you believe it? The first African-American President in our nation's history, who just so happens to embody the charisma of a superstar (and an equally charismatic wife), is overexposed! Oh, for shame. Who would have thought that after the most heated Presidential campaign in recent memory topped off by a historic first, people would actually want to see and hear from this guy? Well, if you believe what you read or hear the public has had it with this, globally favored and highly competent Statesman hogging up our air time. So, after building entire news cycles around him (some their careers...cough, cough...Keith Olberman), the press now seeks to create new news cycles around telling the world how "overexposed" he is.

Here's where things get weird for me. I actually find myself respecting the Neo-Conservative Right Wing press. At least, they actually try to make up news. Yes, they lie and slander, but even the likes of Glen Beck and Rush Limbaugh can come up with better nonsense than, he's "overexposed." This latest in a string of faux news comes courtesy of the bent back Liberal Leftist press, seeking to counter act charges of their supposed "love affair with Obama," as is often alleged by their far Right counterparts. So, in an attempt to get Bill O'Reilly to stop picking on them, it would seem, the latest Liberal think tank got together to show the world that they too can lay into that Barack Obama: "O is for Overexposed!" And they're supposed to be the smartest people in the room?

Pardon me, but, did we not just experience eight years (actually 16 if we're being honest) of a secretive Administration, which did everything it could to thwart transparency and accountability of any kind and at any cost? Did we not just experience eight years of one of the most incompetent world leaders in the history of the world? Yet, when we lift our heads and see a President who actually wants to engage us, keep us up to date with authentic Town Halls (not the Bush/McCain kind which screened questions and booted reporters they didn't like), and challenge us to keep him and his administration accountable, we're told to shun this, "for it is overexposure?" Sorry, but I'll have to pass. If actually knowing what my President and his administration is up to means I'll have to miss a few episodes of the latest reality show craze, then so be it. I'm not going back into the dark.

Copyright 2009

My Address to the State Assembly

May 28, 2009

Dear Committee:

On behalf of the Parents, Teachers, Staff, and Friends of West 83rd Street Pre School of St. Matthew’s St. Timothy’s Neighborhood Center Inc., we thank you for the opportunity to address you here today. We appreciate your service to our great City and State, and your advocacy for our families and schools. As parents we have always found security in the hope that our children might be able to make a better life for themselves and a better world out of the one we have given them. This hope is and has always been fostered by the liberating power of education. As was so clearly displayed by the recent and historic nomination of New York’s very own, Sonia Sotomayor to the Supreme Court of the United States, education is the great equalizer.

Aside from a parent’s vigilance and love, early childhood education is a time tested and proven means of molding a child, regardless of their background or challenges, into a productive citizen and asset to their community. Therefore, the very fact that testimony is even needed in regards to this abhorrent and disastrous proposal to essentially eliminate services for over 3000 children by the Administration for Children’s Services and cram them into inadequate public schools is rather morbid. Furthermore, the fact, that this dastardly deed is proposed in dark corners without the knowledge of the public testifies to how low down it is. However, we dare not suggest that an issue of this magnitude is merely, black or white. One way or another we are all culpable. From not so honorable elected officials from the Federal, State, and Local levels to apathetic citizens and negligent parents, the Administration for Children’s Services is hardly a lone assailant in this crisis. “He, who is without sin, cast the first stone.[1]” We must all shoulder some accountability in allowing such a thing to even occur.

However, this so called “cost-saving” measure will cost us more than we can possibly imagine, and I don’t just mean the estimated $7 million dollars it will cost taxpayers[2]. The parents who I speak for through this testimony are hardworking citizens, who are doing everything this City and State could possibly ask of them, and in some cases more. Many are not only working full time jobs, but, they are also enrolled in institutions of higher learning to better serve their families and our communities at large. Mothers, like Nowahyah Levi (No-y-yah Le-vee), who graduates today with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree and will pursue her Masters. Fathers, like Cristian Nunez, who has completed studies in the field of medicine. To limit their choices, is to limit them as a family, and to limit them as a family is to hinder ourselves as a community. I ask those who are considering this “cost-saving” measure to also consider what it will mean for families whose children require special needs’ care? I ask them to consider how easy it is for such cases to get lost in the already over burdened public school system? Without these vital services, the possibility of their advancement as a family and ours as a community is grim. Have we not yet learned the steep price we as a society pay when we neglect to “love our neighbor, as ourselves?[3]”

For those who sit on the sidelines and assume this is a problem that only concerns the working class or low income families, think again. In a stirring and eye opening article published in New York Magazine (May 24, 2009) entitled: “Five year Olds at the Gate…” we are given, live and in living color a courtside view of a crisis that has reached far beyond the discomforts and oft ignored concerns of working class and low income families: “…the ultimate act of political cowardice…” says Michael Beebe, a hedge funder whose daughter has been wait listed by a school three blocks from their loft. Clara Hemphill, founding editor of Insideschools.org asserts “it’s a crisis of parental confidence in the system… The chancellor’s idea of equality is that middle-class parents should be treated with the same disdain as poor parents.” These parents and many more like them are experiencing the limited and inadequate choices, that working class and low income families have been saddled with for decades. We are all New Yorkers now: black, brown, yellow and white; blue collar, white collar, no collar at all.

Today, we all share in the indignity and blatant betrayal of the public trust. Today our confidence in the system and those whom we have elected to guard it is forever altered. I can assure you, in the upcoming Mayoral election, the elections of 2010 and elections thereafter, We the People will certainly not forget under whose watch our children’s future has been compromised. There is a groundswell of zealous, grassroots, activism that is neither mystified nor intimidated by heavily funded campaigns or their candidates hollow promises. Our eyes are open and our minds are clear; and we know what is at stake for our beloved City.

There’s something quite disturbing when a society elects to honor the bottom line, at the expense of people. Indeed, the “love of money is the root of all kinds of evil![4]” We are cheating ourselves and furthermore, we are fooling ourselves if we find comfort in bailing out criminal bankers and financial institutions, yet, leave the following generation ill equipped to maintain and grow our economy. We are fooling ourselves, if we are more concerned with building prisons and over priced real estate as opposed to state of the art schools that will enable our children to compete in this ever evolving global economy. We are fooling ourselves if we believe that these “cost-saving” measures will only be enacted in New York. If it can happen here, it can happen anywhere.

I urge our distinguished Assembly to stand with us, the citizens of this great City and State. Fight for early childhood education. The children we neglect today, we will surely answer to tomorrow.

CHILDREN FIRST!

Sincerely,
Johnathan L. Iverson
President
Parent Advisory Committee

[1] John 8:7 of the New Testament (Bible)
[2] The Daily News on March 26, 2009 in an article entitled “Kid Cuts Cost Us.”
[3] St. Matthew 22:36-40 Leviticus 19:18 of the Old & New Testament (Bible)
[4] 1st Timothy 6:10 of the New Testament (Bible)

Copyright 2009 Johnathan L. Iverson Baptiste