Remembering The Legends

It was an amazingly definitive experience and I needed it in my life – so I bought the poem. At that moment it was an heirloom that I could pass along. I bought the Pearl Cleage poem We Speak Your Names that was composed for Oprah’s Legends Ball. I read it aloud. In just that moment I was back to that place watching Angela Bassett, Hallie Berry, Phylicia Rashad and a host of other “Young’uns” honor the Legends of History.

After watching Oprah’s Legends Ball on Television last month, I was motivated. Motivated about what I needed to do, motivated about the possibilities that existed and ready for the challenge. As I sat there and watched these wonderful, extraordinary African-American women receive their honors, I was shedding tears by the end of the show. I needed more. But my tears weren’t just tears of appreciation and joy for these women, some were tears of sadness.

I looked at the fact that Oprah honored these wonderful women and gave them their flowers while they could smell them. And then I looked at the fact that men never do anything remotely like this. We (black men) rarely appreciate each other, rarely emotionally support each other and in an effort to try to be the “man” we step on each other.

In that I looked back at all of the groundbreaking African-American men who were never really able to be honored before they left this earth. I think of the fact that had it not been for Thurgood Marshall and Adam Clayton Powell, I could have never been elected to public office. I think of the fact that had it not been for Ossie Davis, Sidney Portier, Harry Belafonte and Sammie Davis, Jr. I could have never graced the stage and screen. Had it not been for Jean-Michael Basquait and Gordon Parks would art be what it is? If not for Paul Robeson, could I really know that it was O.K. to do it all?

I could go on remembering those that made a difference and have passed on but the larger questions remains, how many went on before knowing how we really felt about them? I only wish that I had the resources to honor black men the way Oprah did black women at the Legends Ball.

Now although I don’t have the financial resources the least I could do was write MY poem to black men. I look forward to one day sharing it with the world. I look forward to honoring the black men that are here and remembering those that have passed on like they should be remembered.

For now I hope that black men will wake up and stop being so bull headed, respect our feelings and support and honor each other. That way we can truly honor those that paved the way before they leave the road. We can do more than speak their names. We can honor their existence.