Author ruffles some feathers with critique of poor blacks

Nearly 20 years after its debut, the award-winning documentary "Eyes on the Prize" is back. WPBA will air it Thursdays, Oct. 12 and 19, from 8 - 10 p.m. GPB will broadcast it Mondays, Oct. 9 and 16, from 9 - 11 p.m.

Before becoming a famous talking head on Fox News and National Public Radio, Juan Williams wrote the companion book to "Eyes on the Prize," the epic documentary series chronicling the civil rights movement. Surveying today's post-movement horizon, the author fears poor blacks have closed their eyes to the prize and are instead blinded by bling.

Williams is a card-carrying member of a thriving black middle class, heirs to a legacy of civil rights triumphs that helped pave the way for their unparalleled affluence and influence.

But the hard truth, by Williams' account, is that despite those seminal victories, many blacks today are faring much worse than their forebears who lived under Jim Crow.

The nation's black dropout rate stands at 25 percent or higher. A third of young black men are in prison or on parole. Among black children born today, two-thirds will not grow up in a two-parent household --- a generational scar that will never properly heal.

Williams' latest book, "Enough," is a ruthlessly blunt polemic about that which ails the poorest African-Americans. They are stuck in bad schools, making bad choices and, maybe worst of all, embracing the bad-tempered poses of the "thug life."

As promised in the book's wordy subtitle --- "The Phony Leaders, Dead End Movements and Culture of Failure That are Undermining Black America --- and What We Can Do About It" --- Williams excoriates the Rev. Jesse Jackson, the Rev. Al Sharpton and Minister Louis Farrakhan, whom he claims are ill-equipped to carry the symbolic baton of leadership passed to them by those who came before.

Williams' book acknowledges racism as a persistent force in American life, but contends it's harder to spot, probably impossible to eradicate and for the most part, irrelevant. To Williams, charges of racism have become a convenient cover story keeping some blacks trapped in poverty while benefiting others who exploit them for self-aggrandizement and monetary gain. Some criticism vocal

The dispiriting metrics on blacks in poverty are in little dispute. But Williams' appearance in Atlanta last week during a book tour underscores the wide-ranging, and passionate opinion among blacks who interpret those measures much differently. Some rebuked the logic of Williams' book and were offended by what they perceived as its holier-than-thou tone.

An otherwise genteel reception Tuesday at the Atlanta History Center to discuss the book included a heated exchange between Williams and William Jelani Cobb, an author and assistant professor at Spelman College. Cobb criticized Williams for sloppy research and failing to make the distinction between "catharsis and analysis." Following Cosby's lead

"Enough" could just as easily have been titled, "The Gospel According to Bill Cosby." (By apparent coincidence, Cosby was also in town last week, speaking to Atlanta high school seniors and celebrating the 85th birthday of Rev. Joseph E. Lowery.)

The admitted inspiration for Williams' book is Cosby's now-famous "Poundcake Speech" first delivered off the cuff two years ago at an NAACP event. Cosby has been repeating its core message of self-reliance to anyone who'll listen.

In its original version, Cosby chastised young blacks for a host of sins, real and imagined. He complained about those who imitate antisocial rap videos, shun scholarship, speak nonstandard English, give their children names like "Shaniqua" and, yes, get arrested for stealing baked confections from neighborhood grocery stores.

Cosby's cultural canon makes points that are undeniably true, if hardly novel. More than a century ago, Booker T. Washington told blacks just emerging from slavery to "pull themselves up by their bootstraps." Washington's advice is certainly relevant a century later assuming, that is, one has boots in the first place.

Williams' 243-page tongue-lashing is intended to begin setting things right while honoring the contributions of civil rights champions who are graying or dead. The book is suffused with missionary zeal, but the underlying strength of its arguments is weakened by simplistic reasoning and outdated notions that exaggerate rather than edify.

For example, Cosby might have difficulty explaining why black notables with ethnic-sounding names that some might otherwise denigrate as "ghetto fabulous" --- such as Oprah, Kobe and Condoleezza --- have nonetheless reached the pinnacle of achievement in their respective fields. Williams' book makes quaint references to "the black nation" and "black leaders." In many ways, such terms are vague because the civil rights movement is rendering such distinctions less important, albeit slowly. The group-think mentality such terms conjure are disturbing whether the prefix is "black" or, for instance, "Aryan." Visible supporters

Shelley Wynter, a black conservative-leaning radio show host in Atlanta, hailed Williams' courage in calling attention to issues about which other African-Americans in positions of power and authority have been embarrassingly silent.

"We have been hearing the same things from the same people for too long now, which is that our problems are the fault of white supremacists," said Wynter, who has interviewed both Cosby and Williams on his show, "The Right Side" on WAOK-AM. "Cosby is saying we should be asking what we can do for ourselves as opposed to what others have done to us. Williams has picked up on that. They're saying we're not victims anymore."

Williams' detractors, however, may dismiss "Enough" as a shallow, self-righteous screed that blames the "victims" of poverty for their problems. Williams' supporters may hail it as yet another tough-love call-to-arms to black Americans who are squandering the sacrifices others made on their behalf.

But here's a problem: The radio and TV shows on which Williams regularly appears have negligible black audiences. And, while Cosby is still beloved by blacks and whites alike, he hasn't been a pop culture fixture since ending his self-titled sitcom where he played an upscale African-American doctor and all-American dad.

It's telling that Cosby has since been displaced as the nation's top comedian, at least among younger people, by David Chappelle. Cosby once charmed a nation into buying his favorite brand of pudding. Chappelle is an admitted marijuana smoker whose racially provocative satire has made him rich and a target of scorn in Williams' book. That suggests Williams' and Cosby's most attentive audience isn't the one they're trying to reach. Put another way: When they give poor blacks a stern talking-to, whom exactly are they talking to?

Copyright 2006 The Atlanta Journal-Constitution