A Perspective On The Million Man March, Written 15 Years Ago: Has Anything Changed?

Why I Won't Be in Washington on Monday

Frederick Douglass once said, "A man who will not labor to gain his rights is a man who would not, if he had them, prize and defend them."

This is why I should be on a plane, train, bus, moped, skateboard or pogo stick to Washington, where Nation of Islam leader Louis Farrakhan is calling on 1 million black men to gather for a "holy day of atonement and reconciliation."

On Monday (October 16, 1995), brothers will be exhorted to reclaim their lives, atone for their mistreatment of one another and of black women, come to terms with their abandonment of family and accept their failure to put God first.

Historically, black men were too proud to be controlled by the dominant society. Lynched for even daring to dream, many simply gave up. And yet others took a stand and ultimately moved the world. It is these men, men whom I aspire to emulate, who have persuaded me that I, like millions of other African American men, have no reason to atone for anything.

I attended a black college, hosted a black radio talk show and ran for a seat on the Los Angeles City Council. Married to a black woman and working to curb gang and youth violence, I challenge this litmus test, the notion of taking a day off from my job simply to draw attention to the problems facing black men in this country.

And that's not to disparage the march or the personalities involved. I rejoined the NAACP under Ben Chavis and have heard Farrakhan speak on several occasions. I found both men's views compelling and vexing.

But I cannot march just for the sake of marching. The assertion that this is a unique opportunity to "reconcile with our Creator and unite for the betterment of all African Americans" is nebulous and unpersuasive. "I know there's no real agenda for the march, no platform and no clearly defined plan for the future," one minister said, "but there is a need for black men to come and stand together in each other's presence. Hopefully, something will come of it."

Hopefully?

Even those supporting the march seem unclear about the ultimate outcome. What happens Tuesday? What happens in 1996? What happens the next century?

While some feel their manhood is based on making babies, destroying their own people with drugs and killing to gain a warped sense of respect, many black men who feel otherwise unfortunately are no longer willing to be their brothers' keepers.

With one in three of our boys having some connection with the legal system, few African Americans actually believe that descending on our nation's capital will restore what centuries of racism, discrimination and inequality have created.

Thus the disenchantment of those not attending speaks more to the day-to-day accountability that goes unaddressed rather than to the march itself. Some argue that money being raised to bus men to Washington should go instead toward formula for the babies these men have created.

Instead of heading east, a few need to march south (as in South-Central) and spend time with sons and daughters they've never met. Men don't have to travel to Washington to respect black women. They just need to keep their hands off of them in Los Angeles.

When we start accepting responsibility, stop dealing crack and stop paying tribute to the "gangsta" mentality, that's when we'll see real atonement. Ralph Ellison said, "When I discover who I am, I'll be free." If this march, this sacred ceremony of declaration, can teach one black boy the true meaning of this and this alone, then I would concede that it was worth it.

But for now, I'll be at work on Monday. To Chavis and others, respectfully: I like what I'm doing more than what you're not.

October 13, 1995| Los Angeles Times | Kevin A. Ross is a deputy district attorney in Los Angeles