As a historian, I am often asked to share my thoughts on heroism. What does a hero or heroine look like? What do they do that’s so special? Do you have a favorite?
If my study of the past has taught me anything, it’s that heroes and heroines don’t have a “type.” They come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. I have found it also true that, when you dig deeply enough, the heroic among us rarely (if ever) consider themselves so.
This is most certainly true of James Brown, namesake of the James Brown African American Room at the Newark Public Library in New Jersey.
James Brown dedicated his 29-year professional life to curating and expanding the Library’s collection of resources on the African American experience. When, in 1991, Mr. Brown died at the much-too-young age of 53, the James Brown African American Room was dedicated in his honor.
The Friends of the James Brown African American Room formed in 2016 to support the pioneering work of this extraordinary man by raising funds to purchase books, music, films, and reference materials, and enabling the Newark Public Library to offer programs and exhibitions about the African American experience. Together the Friends of the James Brown African American Room and the Newark Public Library work to achieve Mr. Brown’s vision to document, preserve, and foster the history, culture, and literary achievements of the African Diaspora for the patrons of the Newark Public Library and beyond.
The mission and work of the James Brown Room (or JBAAR, as Library regulars like to call it) are clearly in concert within the philosophy of James Brown and, I feel, would clearly be within the philosophy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Toward the end of his journey, King said, “The nation is sick. Trouble is in the land. Confusion all around.”
This is not the King we often hear about — the King that condemned not only racism and segregation but who also condemned the very structure of the country — the structure that continues to breed the racism, bigotry, poverty, greed; the structure that allows the United States to be the dominating power, where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.
I agree with the Rev. Dr. William J. Barber II, another hero of our times, who stated, “The best way to destroy and distort the legacy and message of a prophet is to reimagine him as popular.” King is a popular image now, even among those who condemned him while he was alive. But even the most cursory dive into his writings and teachings reminds us, and calls us to remind others of, the real Martin King, who found himself challenging a society stricken with a neurotic sickness and septic addiction to racism, poverty and militarism.
King’s diagnosis of our society was more complex than is routinely recalled. He saw that things were bad, but he also saw that people with nothing to lose still had the ability to hope. It was hope that gave them the inspiration and power to protest and to march against a nation that is sick. A nation where “trouble is in the land and confusion is all around.”
Any attempt to celebrate and commemorate King without engaging with his prophetic diagnosis and radical prescription undermines his legacy and dismisses the poor people who responded to his call.
Whatever Donald Trump’s mental state and apparent capabilities, around 60 million Americans were willing to entrust our government to him after they heard the extremism of his policy proposals. And a majority in the House and Senate have demonstrated that they are willing to work with him to take healthcare away from millions of Americans, attack immigrants and the LGBTQ community, dismantle public education, pour billions more dollars into a war without end on terror and pass a tax bill that represents the single largest transfer of wealth to America’s elite since the outright theft of Native American land and the labor of 4 million enslaved Africans.
A vast majority of the American people know something is wrong. The president’s approval ratings are below 40%, but people tend to concentrate on needing a new president. What we really need is a new moral center. We need to think — not only about King, but about our role in this 21st century world of chaos.
Many Republicans have spoken out against the president’s Tweets and antics while continuing to vote for his extreme agenda. They don’t object to what he’s saying, just how he says it. Many Democrats, on the other hand, seem to think that Trumpism can be countered by an economic message that does not address the deep connections between our historical inequality and the rise of white supremacy.
Some of the challenges we face were articulated by King. But he was a 20th century King. The fifty years since his death have brought a new technical world filled with much of the same hatred disguised in a different kind of Jim Crow. The James Brown Room offers the opportunity to immerse oneself in the history and culture of the African diaspora so that we can prepare ourselves to face the challenges of today — challenges just as, or even more, important than those faced by our ancestors and King fifty years ago. The backlash will be no less intense. Therefore, we must be strong and seek to build our intellectual, cultural, and spiritual armor with a rigid discipline as we address the real needs of all people of color.
Anyone who knew James Brown knows that he would expect no less from us. A product of southern Jim Crow, northern oppression, and the Viet Nam massacre, his belief in the need for educated change was unshakeable. So it is in his name that I ask this: when you honor the memory of King, do it with your ears and eyes open. Breathe in the spirit of culture that has made us, and arm yourself with the strength to keep the struggle alive.