Can I Live?
Young Black Men and the Quest for Meaningful Life
A Theological Analysis of Juvenile Delinquency
By
Theodore (Teddy) N. Maynard
Theology
I
Professor Wesley Wildman
Fall, 2001
Contents
Setting
and Motivation
Definition
of “Black” as Used in the Analysis
Issues
of Concern and the Subject of Analysis
Why
Adam?
Adam’s
Story
Interpreting
the Story
Cultural
Expression of Adam’s Quest
Black
Music and Black Youth
“Can
I Live” and “Can I Live II”
Oppression
and the Realization of Finitude
The
Life of Crime as Sin, or Crimes as Expressions of Estrangement
The subject of this theological analysis arose out of
my work with the Massachusetts Department of Youth Services (DYS), the
juvenile division of the criminal justice system. A brief overview of the
DYS process should prove helpful in introducing the subject of the
analysis. In Massachusetts, as in most states, juvenile offenders of the
law are not convicted of a crime; rather, a judge commits them to the care
of DYS. Once committed to DYS, the youth undergoes a series of assessments
and evaluations. Based on these assessments, DYS places the youth in a
treatment facility, whose level of security varies according to the
severity of the crime committed. Following their time in a secured
facility, DYS youth return to their homes and are required to report to
Day Reporting Centers (DRC) each day after school. According to their
behavior and compliance with the standards set by their caseworkers, the
days that a youth is required to attend decreases until, finally, the
youth is discharged from the care of DYS
My work with DYS takes place at the DRC level. While
at the DRC, youth are expected to attend required group sessions
pertaining to their offense. If a young man committed a violent offense,
for example, he would be required to attend the anger management and
violence prevention group modules. In addition to these required groups,
various volunteer organizations offer optional groups to the youth to aid
them in their transition process. These optional groups are also
encouraged by the administration because they lack the financial resources
to sustain a full schedule of paid professional workshop leaders. As an
outgrowth of my ministry as the Associate Minister for Youth at an
inner-city Africa-American church, I lead an optional group at a nearby
DRC. The group is called “Hip-Hop Nation”, and it seeks to utilize
contemporary rap music to stimulate critical thinking and discussion among
the youth about their circumstances and their future. The majority of the
young people who report to the DRC are African-American and Latino males
between the ages of 14 and 20. There is a small number of females who meet
in their own group during the time of “Hip-Hop Nation”. Consequently,
my work has been primarily revolved around young Black males and their
issues. The subject of this theological analysis is what I perceive to be
a struggle and search for meaningful life manifested through the, often,
troubling responses of these young Black men to their world.
Before I outline the specific issues involved in the
analysis, it is necessary to pause and clarify the way in which I will use
the term “Black” as a category of social identity throughout this
analysis. In contemporary United States culture, the term “Black” is
generally thought of as a category of race to refer to persons of African
descent. Additionally, “Black” is often conceived in binary opposition
to “White”, where “White” represents persons of European descent.
Historically, these categories gained prominence in American popular
discourse during its early participation in the already booming
transatlantic slave trade in the late 17th century and the
early 18th century. As African slaves began to replace European
and Asian indentured servants as the laborers of choice for the
development of what was then called “the New World”, it became
important to distinguish between slaves and free persons using a strict
us-them ideology. Derived from primitive studies of world cultures and
Darwinian evolutionary theory, race theory provided North American
settlers with the language that they needed to justify the growing
slave-industrial complex that would be the backbone of production for what
was to become the United States. “Black” people were ‘them’ while
“White” people became ‘us’. With the advancement of cultural
studies and the biological sciences, a more complex theory of ethnicity
has replaced the politically antiquated, and biologically incorrect,
categorizations of “Black” and “White”. Recent demographic shifts
in the United States have led some sociologists to project that persons of
European descent will not even constitute a majority of the population
within the span of a generation from now. So the question must be asked,
“Why continue to use the term ‘Black’ as a category of social
identity?”
I begin my answer by asking another question: “Why
do we continue to use ‘White’ as a category of social identity?” We
do not do so because the term accurately captures the ethnic history of
persons in the United States who identify themselves as such. I contend
that we do so because the term “White”, while ambiguous and imprecise
as a category, is still helpful as a reminder of the historical process
and significance of the social construction of the United States. It is a
fact that while each new group of immigrants to this country suffered
discrimination and exclusion initially, generally, those groups whose skin
was a of a lighter hue eventually assimilated into the mainstream culture.
A major factor in their assimilation was the ‘us-them’ structure that
separated African slaves from everyone else. (We here acknowledge the
exception of Native Americans and Asian indentured servants, who were
either killed or hidden away). “White” is the group that was not
enslaved. And as an historical reminder, “White” is a useful term,
still.
Similarly, I will use the term “Black” in this
analysis to refer to Americans whose ancestors were enslaved, as well as
to those groups that were subsequently assimilated into that group. By
doing so I hope to highlight the reality that “blackness”, while an
arbitrary designation that was used primarily for subordination, is an
accurate category of social identity so far as it captures the historical
formation of social class in this country. Also, include groups whose
ancestors were not slaves in this country but who have been assimilated
into this group in order to be consistent with the present social setting
out of which the subject of the analysis arises. In this latter group I
include African immigrants, whose recent arrival to the United States
precludes them from the American slavery experience; I include immigrants
of African descent from the Caribbean and South American descent, who have
experienced slavery in their respective countries; and I include Hispanic
immigrants, whose ancestry may or may not include persons of African
descent, but who find themselves socially and culturally compatible with
African-Americans. I should also state the limitations of this
categorization to Northeast urban cultures, since the distinction and
separation between African-Americans and Mexicans is heavily stressed in
the Southern and Western parts of the United States. However, my usage of
the term “Black” for the young African-American, Latino, and Caribbean
men involved in DYS is justified. This will become more apparent in our
discussion of the structural factors involved in juvenile criminal
activity in urban communities.
The young Black men (and young women, who I exclude
from discussion because of my lack of experience, not lack of concern)
that I work with are at a stage in the DYS process where they are asked
the question: “Will you learn from your mistake and transition out of
the program, or will you continue to disobey the law and warrant a return
to prison?” Each one of them agrees on a contract of behavior with their
caseworker, who represents DYS. The contract includes a curfew, mandatory
visits to the DRC, obedience of al laws of their household (to be set by
parents, or foster guardians), and attendance at school or an equivalent
program. If the young men comply with the terms of the contract, they work
their way to more freedom and less monitoring, until they are discharged
and set free with no criminal record at all. The system is designed to
give youthful offenders a second chance at responsible living.
However, the system does not adequately address the
quality of life that these young men will be set free to live. The
behavioral contracts do not ensure rehabilitation. They do not even
prevent further criminal activity, since the young men can do as they
please once they leave the DRC walls. As long as they do not get caught,
they can return to whatever activity warranted their commitment in the
first place. Even the mandatory and optional groups do not ensure a
successful transition for these young men. While we do all that we can to
help them in their growth, and hopefully, change, we cannot determine
their actions. Something much deeper inside of them will determine how
they respond to this question that is put before them by the system:
“Will you change or return to prison?”
In an effort to understand the concerns that the
young men harbor deep inside, I once asked these two questions during one
of our sessions: “What about your life do you regret?” and “What is
your purpose or goal in life?” Not one young man regretted the crime
that they had committed. While a few attributed this lack of regret to
their belief that they were innocent, most admitted that their actions
were at least illegal, if not wrong. For this latter, more representative
group, the absence of regret was due to their belief that all that they
had done is a part of who they are; to regret their actions, for them,
meant to deny a part of themselves. And while most said that they would
like to be different in the future, they also resigned themselves to the
possibility that they might relapse into criminal behavior as a means of
attaining material possessions or simply as a function of the always
potentially violent surroundings of their neighborhoods.
Two major areas of concern emerged in my mind from
our discussions that I believe to have theological significance. First,
these young Black men articulated their visions of a better life in almost
purely materialistic terms. The preoccupation with the attainment of
material goods like cars, clothes, jewelry, and other items that signify
high social standing was overwhelming. Rarely were images of loving
relationships or personal self-expression included in their visions of the
ideal life. Of course, the common denominator for all that they envisioned
was money. Money and its attainment was perhaps the greatest motivating
force in their lives.
The second area of concern was their resignation to
lives of delinquency. In their quest to attain material possessions, they
turn to criminal activities like stealing or selling drugs as a means of
earning money. For many, this behavior is seen as the only alternative
that they have, since continued poverty is out of the question for them.
Still others, committed to earning money through legal means, say that
violent (and therefore, criminal) activity is an inevitability due to
their surroundings. They carry weapons as a means of protection against
old enemies, made during earlier skirmishes. For these young men, criminal
activity seems to follow them wherever they run. They conclude that it is
only a matter of time before they are arrested again and sent back through
the DYS process, or worse: the adult court system, which is far less
committed to rehabilitation and more to punishment through jail time.
Out of these discussions several questions arose
regarding these young Black men. First, “why do they aspire to nothing
more than the attainment of material goods?” Second, “why do they feel
trapped into criminal and/or violent lives?” And finally, “what does
it mean to live for them?” Stated in ontological terms, my question is
“what are the factors that inhibit the actualization of their potential
in socially acceptable and personally beneficial ways?”
My analysis begins with the premise that these young
men are trying to live. They are trying to exert themselves in the world.
However, their world has presented them with notions about what it means
to live meaningfully, while denying them access to the means that they
need to live in that fashion. Thus, they either struggle against the
opposition to fulfill the given ideal life, or they seek alternative,
subversive ways of living that allow them to live meaningfully by denying
the dominant culture’s portrayal of meaningful life.
In order to articulate this predicament of young
Black men more concretely, we will narrow the scope of our conversation to
one young man in particular, whom we will call Adam.
I chose to interview Adam because of his age. At 14
years of age, Adam is the youngest of the youth that I have encountered
during my time at the Day Reporting Center. Many of the older young men
express one of two sentiments towards their delinquency. Either they have
matured to a level where they can reconstitute their lives without
breaking the law, or they feel that they are into the criminal life so
deeply that they cannot retreat if they tried. My focus then turned toward
the younger kids in the program. What happens at 12, 13, and 14 that
enables a 16-year-old boy to admit that he is too steeped in a criminal
lifestyle to live otherwise? That was my question. It also helped that
Adam was outspoken and willing to talk candidly. So, in the end, my
decision was prompted by intellectual speculation as well as by logistical
necessity.
Adam was born in 1987. By 1990 his father was
incarcerated over 1,000 miles away in a Southern state, serving prison
time for drug trafficking. While Adam has spoken with his father via
telephone, his mother discouraged him from seeing his father behind bars.
Adam is still waiting for his father to come home.
Adam grew up in a public housing tenement
community—known in the Black community as ‘the projects’. Along with
his mother, Adam lived with his older sister, his aunt, and his
grandfather. Adam looks back on these days with fondness, relating
memories of a happy childhood filled with friends and fun. His sister, who
is five years his senior, often initiated fights with him because, as he
says, “I was spoiled.” Although even a conservative economic analysis
would render Adam’s childhood household working class, at best, Adam
reflects on their financial status this way: “We were doing well
financially, you know. We was definitely not poor; even though we was
living in the projects, we still had a little money, you know.” This
statement is true as far as Adam experienced
the family’s situation. As the youngest child of his grandfather, Adam
received care from his mother as well as all of her brothers and sisters,
a number that Adam never revealed since I do not believe he knows the
exact number.
Adam may not have known how many aunts or uncles he
had in reality, since, as he says, “my grandfather was a pimp.” This
fact was a matter of no little consequence in Adam’s life. Indeed, Adam
confessed that a majority of his time is spent “messing with females.”
When probed as to what this entailed, Adam elaborates about “getting
your line-up right.” The line-up of females in every man’s life ought
to number three, according to Adam: “You got your wifey, you know.
That’s the one that’s just for you. Then you got, you know, your
little side thing. That’s for you and maybe your best man and
everything. Then you have your little hoe. That’s the one that’ll
f—k your whole crew, know what I mean?” Adam proceeded to outline for
me the rules of the “pimp game” and how he traps women with “mind
games.” When asked who taught him about the pimp game, Adam explains
that his grandfather and uncles sat him down at an early age and “broke
it down”, or taught him the basics. Through his close relationship with
one of his uncles Adam was able to see all of the lessons modeled
effectively. The most significant contribution of the male role models in
his life was to teach him how to be a pimp. Adam says that though the pimp
game never struck him as a way to earn a living, he utilizes the
techniques of manipulation that he learned as guiding principles in his
own personal relationships with women.
Aside from “f—king with females”, Adam and his
small group of 2 to3 friends spend the majority of their time “hanging
out, smoking weed.” Adam insists that he is not a drug addict or dealer.
He and his crew smoke weed “to relax”. He insists that they do not
constitute a gang, but admits to their occasional criminal activity
“just for fun”. Adam was arrested for attempting to steal a car on one
of their escapades. For that he received a few months probation. After
being pulled apart from a fight during school, however, he was searched
and consequently arrested for gun possession. This charge would warrant
his committal to the Department of Youth Services, which recommended his
time in a treatment facility.
Now that Adam is out of the treatment phase of the
process and into the transitional phase, he is offered the opportunity to
reflect on his life and what direction he will go in terms of his criminal
behavior. Adam is described by one of the DRC staff as a “fake thug”.
Adam himself admits, “crime ain’t really my thing.” As to why he
carried the gun, Adam replies automatically, “for protection.” When
asked about the details of his acquisition of the gun, Adam more honestly
explains: “It wasn’t really for protection necessarily. I got it from
around the neighborhood, you know. If you find a gun or somebody give you
a gun, you not just gonna give it back. You gonna keep it. Around the
neighborhood, it just the fact of having one. At my age, I just didn’t
care. I just wanted to keep it. Just to have it, you know?” In a moment
of self-reflection Adam admits to the importance of the gun as a status
symbol in the community. For him to carry a gun at such a young age is a
powerful statement about his potential for respect, leadership, and
popularity within the social circle that constitute Adam’s formative
community.
Adam does not aspire to a life of crime, however. In
his words, his dream is to be a “billionaire businessman.” Adam
dreams, “I want to lace my mans for cheaper. If they want a car with
some nice rims and everything, they’ll come to my dealership. I’m sick
of seeing people get ripped of for cars by white folk. Why would you buy a
car for $26,000 when you can get that same car used for like, $10,000? So,
what I’ma do it sell it to my mans for cheaper. And I’ll sell it
hooked up. I’ma have a whole fleet of car shops, barber shops, anything
a Black man need, he’ll come see me.” At the center of Adam’s
vocational dreams is the desire to “lace his mans”, which translated
into English means to provide Black men with the items that they seek in
order to project an image of success that commands respect.
Ultimately, Adam seeks respect from his community. In
his goal to become a “very rich man” lies a desire to be needed and
respected in his community as one who not only possesses the material
goods that are the measure of success for the community, but also offers
those goods to others. Adam claims he would rather be respected than
feared because “if you feared, eventually somebody will overcome that
fear and take you out. But, if you respected, people gonna always show you
love.”
Communal love in Adam’s context is expressed to an
individual by the reputation that the community upholds for him. If the
community thinks that you are worthy of respect due to your ability to
achieve a measure of success, then you are loved. If the community
perceives you as unsuccessful, or average, then you are unloved. This is
why material goods are so important to Adam. It is why he works so hard to
maintain his “line-up” of females. It is also why he possesses and
carries a gun. This desire to be considered as more than average in the
community—displayed through the attainment of material goods—drives
the decisions that Adam makes in these formative adolescent years. The
community struggles against poverty and lack of access to material things.
It follows then that those who succeed in fighting against this structural
denial of access will be elevated and respected—loved. The tragedy of
this situation is that success is determined by access to popular
perishable goods, rather than significant achievements that might ensure a
more lasting and substantial breaking through of the wall of poverty, such
as acceptance into college. This tragedy will be taken up a little later
in the analysis. For now it is important to note that Adam desires not
only to achieve these images of success, but he wants to be known as the
source of these goods for others, making him important in their lives. I
contend that Adam’s delinquent and socially irresponsible behavior stems
from his quest for meaningful life.
During the Harlem Renaissance Black culture produced
two expressions of the quest for meaningful life on the part of Black men
that have been recognized as genius. I speak of Richard Wright’s Native
Son and Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man. In Native Son,
Wright’s depiction of Bigger Thomas as a young Black man incapacitated
by poverty and driven to madness by racial oppression still stands as one
of the most poignant cultural expressions of the sources for Black rage.
However, Wright’s social analysis is often lost in his graphic portrayal
of Bigger’s near-psychopathic violence toward White people and his
denial of responsibility. Bigger clearly chooses his fate, and thus, is a
difficult character to sympathize with. Ellison’s Invisible Man
tries to complete what Wright’s Native Son failed to do. That is
to highlight the responsibility of White America for the inequality that
creates Black rage, while not losing sight of the Black man’s ability to
respond to the absurdity of oppression in a variety of ways. Both novels
attempt to express the individual and social dimensions to the Black male
struggle to exert his humanity in a country built on the back of his
dehumanization through the eyes of a Black protagonist whose response to
absurdity is socially unacceptable, and even criminal.
Literature, however, has never been as accessible to
the masses of Black America as music. Thus, we look to find a cultural
expression of the predicament of young Black men that resonates with them.
For the young men that I work with that means hip-hop music, otherwise
known as RAP (Rhythm and Poetry). Cornel West points to Black rap music as
:the most important development in Afro-American popular music since
1979” (Prophetic Fragments, 185). In his words: “Black rap music is
primarily the musical expression of the paradoxical cry of desperation and
celebration of the black underclass and poor working class, a cry which
openly acknowledges and confronts the wave of personal cold-heartedness,
criminal cruelty, and existential hopelessness in the black ghettos of
Afro-America” (Prophetic Fragments, 186). Like the literature of Ellison
and Wright, Black rap music seeks to express Black male responses to the
absurdity of oppression as experienced in the “black ghettos”, while
not hiding the, often, criminal nature of their response.
With this framework in mind, we turn to the most
prolific hip-hop artist of the last 5 years, Sean Carter, otherwise known
as Jay-Z. Jay-Z has sold more albums than any other rap artist has since
1996, achieving multi-platinum sales with each of his last 3 releases.
More importantly for our discussion, Jay-Z has achieved this success
largely on the heels of his ‘cross-over’ appeal to White suburban
teenagers and young adults, without
losing credibility in the streets as an authentic professor of urban
poor Black male thought and practice. In his 1996 debut album, Reasonable
Doubt, Jay-Z expresses the quest for meaningful life in two volumes of
the song, “Can I Live”.
[Please place a link here to the songs “Can I
Live” and “Can I Live II”. The lyric sheets should be displayed on
the screen while the songs play. Thank you]
In both songs Jay-Z describes the image of success
that drives Adam’s quest for meaningful life. We find misogyny implicit
in the possessive and derogatory names used for them—“chickens” and
“hoes”. The latter is particularly reminiscent of Adam’s fascination
with prostitution as a framework for social relations. The heavy emphasis
on material symbols of monetary gain are present in similar ways as Adam
expressed: clothes, cars, houses. There is even a critical analysis on
Jay-Z’s part as to the transitory and cosmetic nature of the symbols
when he says, “happy to be escaping poverty, however brief”; and
again, when he admits, “True this, the streets schooled us to spend our
money foolish...[I] recruited lieutenants with ludicrous dreams of getting
cream”. Jay-Z uses the term “cream” to refer to money.
Interestingly, rap music has transformed the word “cream” into an
acronym meaning “Cash Rules Everything Around Me”. While both songs
express a version of life filled with the attainment of material
possessions through criminal behavior, the title of the song is not
declarative, but rather interrogative. In spite of the confident bravado,
there lies a deep-seated doubt as to what is being experienced is life at
all.
Jay-Z addresses the same two areas as Wright and
Ellison in his attempt to explain why Black men turn to criminal behavior
in this quest for meaningful life. In the first volume he offers:
“Easily explain why we adapt to crime: I’d rather die enormous than
live dormant.” In the second volume he confesses, “Yeah, I sold drugs
for a living. That’s a given. Why is it? Why don’t y’all try to
visit the neighborhoods I live in. My mind bent on hell, my neighborhood
is crime central; where cops lock you up more than try to defend you…and
all I see is life repeating itself.” In the first volume of the song,
Jay-Z highlights the desire to actualize potential in ways that are
significant. He explains Black male delinquency as an attempt to matter in
the world—to “live enormous”. We recall Adam’s desire to feel the
love of the community by becoming a billionaire business man that can
provide for the material symbols of power in the community. In the second
volume, Jay-Z answers the question about why he sold drugs for a living
simply by referring the listener to his neighborhood. Here he takes
account of the structural denial of resources and the lack of opportunity
that drives young Black men to crime out of what they feel to be
necessity. He begins the first volume with a spoken word introduction in
which he states, “we hustle out of a sense of hopelessness, sort of a
desperation. Through that desperation, we [be]come addicted.” In the
second volume he depicts the environment of the ghetto as a crucible that
will inevitably produce more criminal activity when he says, “all I see
is life cycles repeatin’ itself.” In these two rap songs, Jay-Z offers
a contemporary cultural expression of the quest for meaningful life that,
like his literary forefathers, takes account of the personal drive for
self-assertion in the face of denial and the structural obstacles that
perpetuate negative responses to the existential challenge of poor Black
urban young men.
Paul Tillich’s Systematic Theology offers us
a formulation of the human existential predicament that takes into account
the two polarities that we have encountered throughout our discussion of
the young Black male quest for meaningful life: freedom and destiny. By
framing the young Black male predicament in this way, we can take
advantage of Tillich’s method of correlation as a way of constructing a
theology that would present the truth of the Gospel message to help them
find meaning in life in ways other than the self-destructive criminal life
that the young men I work with have engaged in. Such a construction lies
beyond the scope of this analysis. However, it is necessary to state the
reasons for analyzing the situation in the following way. Because of the
interrelated nature of Tillich’s Systematic Theology, we will
necessarily draw from ideas that are presented in the part on “Being and
God” as well as the part on “Life and the Spirit”. However, the
thrust of the interpretation rests on the part on “Existence and the
Christ” and Tillich’s existentialist analysis of what it means to
exist for humans.
Tillich’s basic definition of existence is
“standing out of non-being” (Vol. 2, 21). Tillich complicates his
definition, though, by adding that “the metaphor ‘to stand out’
logically implies something like ‘to stand in’. Only that which in
some respect stands in can stand out” (Vol. 2, 20). Tillich maintains
that nothing stands out of non-being completely. Everything that exists
participates in both being and non-being. In the part of the system on
“Being and God”, Tillich defined the mixture of being and non-being as
“finitude”. This is so because “everything which participates in the
power of being…is being in the process of coming from and going toward
nonbeing. It is finite” (Vol. 1, 189). The basic characteristic of being
is finitude—that state of being on one’s way through being to
nonbeing. To be aware of this finitude, according to Tillich, is called
anxiety (Vol. 1, 191). Tillich seems to depict all humans as having this
awareness automatically, thus making anxiety a basic mental state of
humans. I would add that there are experiences in the lives of humans that
can either heighten or decrease the level of anxiety, or realization of
finitude in people.
Tillich states that humans “would surrender to the
annihilating character of time” (Vol. 1, 194) if anxiety were not
balanced by a courage to be in the present despite the approach of a
future of nonbeing. Yet, this courage can be encouraged or discouraged by
the results that it is met with. If in the expression of the courage to be
a person is inhibited, that courage suffers damage. Continual denial of
that expression means that potential being does not become actual being. A
perpetual force enacted against one’s actual being will produce a
frustration in the person, diminishing courage and heightening anxiety.
It is my contention that systematically oppressed
people live in a state of hyper-anxiety. Oppression involves the denial of
self-expression in some form that is considered normative for a culture at
large. Additionally, oppression involves exclusion from participation in
the life of a society in some way. Oppression involves the dehumanization
of one person, or a group of people, through the use of an ‘us-them’
ideological paradigm that systematically perpetuates difference in order
to support the exclusion from society and the expression of self. Tillich
makes note of the affect of oppression ontologically in his discussion of
individualization and participation. Oppression suppresses
individualization, which Tillich states is linked to selfhood (Vol. 1,
175), by not granting persons full status of their humanity by law
(whether actual law or socially accepted law). The person ceases to be a
person altogether I the context of the community. Without participation in
the community, individualization is hampered. Likewise, because the
individual is unrecognized as such, their participation in the community
is out of the question. Thus, systematic oppression fundamentally
undermines these two ontological elements of being.
Whenever being is undermined, an awareness of the
nonbeing that is in tension with it is increased. In the case of the
American slave system, oppression against Black people was sustained
through a dehumanization that denied individuality and participation from
them. Orlando Patterson has called this process “social death”. His
term for the affects of slavery on Black people is appropriate here since
it points to the nonbeing that is stressed when the actual being of a
people is hampered. The effects of slavery still loom large over
contemporary America as evidenced by the dramatic economic inequality that
exists between Blacks and Whites (using these terms as defined in the
introduction).
Some debate whether the economic impoverishment
experienced by many inner-city Blacks is due to race at all. William
Julius Wilson addressed this debate in a series of sociological epics. In The
Declining Significance of Race (1978) Wilson defined the existence of
what he called a Black “underclass” in America that remained
perpetually impoverished due largely to economic factors that were created
by the history of racial oppression. In When Work Disappears (1996)
Wilson clarified his position, affirming once again that racial oppression
created the blight of the urban Black poor that is now perpetuated by
economic systems. His efforts were not meant to diminish the role of
racial oppression in the analysis of the oppression of Black people;
rather, Wilson sought to show how the best way to solve the problem
currently is to attack poverty itself, not just racism. However, his
studies still chronicle the role of racial oppression in the development
of the contemporary American economic system. American progress has been
won at the expense of Black opportunity for individualization and
participation.
The present struggle of young Black men to live
meaningful lives is an expression of this systematic oppression. As they
seek to live what they believe to be meaningful lives characterized by
successful attainment of material goods (whether right or wrong), they are
met with the challenges of insufficient access to education, jobs, and the
social networks that economically privileged people depend on for their
attainment of material goods. If they do not resort to crime, they most
likely will stay poor, and in their minds, insignificantly “dormant”
(as Jay-Z rapped). Yet, for the young men that I work with, their criminal
activity led to capture and punishment under the law. In either case,
their attempts to actualize their visions of a meaningful life are met
with challenges. This negative experience of their expression of the
courage to be leads to a hyper-anxiety, or a hyper-realization of their
own finitude. Their contemporary participation in the social death of
their slave ancestors represents for them an encounter with the threat of
nonbeing which sends them scrambling to either try to resign themselves to
the hopelessness of continual anxiety which leads to nihilistic
anti-social behavior, or reframe meaningful life in contradistinction to
the values of society at large, creating a subculture with different
criterion of meaningful life. Either course may still lead to crime. It is
important to state that I am well aware that these conditions and choices
do not always lead to crime. In fact, I do not believe that they mostly,
or even commonly do. However, I am tracking the path that the young men
who are the subject of this analysis have taken. For these young Black
men, the attacks on their self-actualization, individualization, and
participation in what they deem to be meaningful life has led them to
commit crimes. Thus, we turn to a theological interpretation of crime as a
response to the realization of finitude.
Tillich’s formulation of sin as estrangement is
most helpful to us at this point. He derives this formulation from his
basic proposition about existence, that humanity’s “existential
situation is a state of estrangement from [its] essential nature” (Vol.
2, 25). Tillich asserts this proposition in opposition to Hegel, who
proposed that humanity achieved reconciliation between its essential and
existential natures in the course of history. Reconciliation on the level
of history was the basic human situation for Hegel. Tillich—following
Kierkegaard, Marx, Schopenhauer, and Nietzsche—disagrees. Tillich
responds this way: History is not the divine self-manifestation but a
series of unreconciled conflicts, threatening [humanity] with
self-destruction. The existence of the individual is filled with anxiety
and threatened by meaninglessness” (Vol. 1, 25). If one accepts my
contention that oppressed people possess a hyper-anxiety, then the threat
of meaninglessness is also heightened for them also. Tillich defends the
seemingly pessimistic view of existentialism by pointing out that
existentialism, as analysis, does not claim to offer solutions to the
problem of existence. People search for their own answers to the problem.
For Christians, Tillich continues, the answer is “the Christ”.
However, for the young Black men that I work with, their answer has been
crime. How can we frame their criminal behavior in theological terms?
Bypassing Tillich’s interpretation of the symbol of
the “Fall” and original sin, we will move to an analysis of crime
using Tillich’s discussion of estrangement and sin. We have already
stated that for Tillich, to exist is to be “estranged from the ground of
being, from other beings, and from [one]self” (Vol. 2, 44). The powerful
linchpin of Tillich’s argument is his insight that “the profundity of
the term ‘estrangement’ lies in the implication that one belongs
essentially to that from which one is estranged…[humanity’s] hostility
to God proves indisputably that [it] belongs to [God]. Where there is the
possibility of hate, there and there alone is the possibility of love”
(Vol. 2, 45). If Tillich is right, this powerful little insight becomes a
stream of hope for the young Black men that I work with. If crime is sin,
or an expression of estrangement, then these young men are connected in
deep ways to those things and people whom they are now hostile against:
women, family members, authority, discipline, love, themselves, and most
importantly, God. Of course, we can only apply Tillich’s insight if we
can interpret crime as sin.
The key distinction between “sin” and
“estrangement” for Tillich is the connotation of the word “sin” as
having to do with “personal responsibility in one’s estrangement”
(Vol. 2, 47). Tillich makes sure to note that estrangement is a “matter
of both personal freedom and universal destiny” (Vol. 2, 47, italics mine). However, thus
far in my analysis, I have stressed the role of universal destiny in the
form of structural oppression as a determining factor in the lives of
these young Black men. But, Tillich’s theology insists that we take into
account the personal freedom (albeit finite) of each individual. So, we
use the term “sin” particularly to highlight the free participation of
these young men in their own estrangement, the “personal act of turning
away”(Vol. 2, 46) from self, world, and God.
Tillich reinterprets two classical manifestations of
“sin” and adds a third, leaving us to interpret the life of crime in
light of “unbelief”, “hubris”, and “concupiscence”. All three
reveal a turning away from a form of the other into oneself in a way that
is almost hostile to the other and inappropriately centered on the self.
In the case of unbelief, one turns away from God. Tillich calls it “the
disruption in [humanity’s] cognitive participation in God” (Vol. 2,
47). If God is the ground being, as Tillich suggests, then the anxiety, or
realization of finitude, that sparks the quest for meaningful life in
these young men represents a disconnection with God, since we have defined
it as an elevation of nonbeing in the awareness of the young men. Thus,
any action taken on a part of these young men that leads to further
elevation of nonbeing in their conscience represents a turning away from
God. Crime, insofar as it is a manifestation of internalized
dehumanization (with all its lack of participation and subordination of
individualization) represents the turning away from the ground of being,
or God.
Hubris, or the turning to one’s self as the center
of one’s world, is represented in several elements of criminal behavior.
First, hubris is present in the form of the lack of regard for the victims
of the crime. Secondly, hubris is present in the form of the lack of
respect for authority implicit in the crime, as exemplified by Jay-Z’s
lyrics. Finally, concupiscence—the desire for reunion with the whole of
the world—manifests itself in the materialism that drives much of the
crime in question. I would include in hubris and concupiscence the desire
to be loved and respected by all, not as a part of community, but as sole
sustainer of it, as articulated by Adam and by Jay-Z (“my game is
mature, prefer you call me William”).
We have seen how Tillich’s theology of existence,
estrangement, and sin applies to the choice of these young Black men to
turn to crime as means of attaining meaningful life in the face of
hyper-anxiety. The formulation of crime as sin takes into account the
structural affects of oppression as well as the personal responsibility of
the young men, the freedom and the destiny imbedded in the ontological
structure of being. This allows us to apply Tillich’s insight about the
nature of estrangement. The criminal life of these young men, and the
estrangement from self, society, and God that it displays, while tragic,
is still grounds to hope for possible return to unity with God, self, and
the world in a way that gives meaning to life for them.
In Race Matters (1994) Cornel West offers that
the most basic issue in Black America is “the nihilistic threat to its
very existence (Race Matters, 19). He characterizes the
liberal/conservative debate, which divides between the structuralists and
the behaviorists, as overly simplistic. West puts his argument this way:
“Nihilism is to be understood here not as a philosophic doctrine…it is
far more the lived experience of coping with a life of horrifying
meaninglessness, hopelessness, and (most important) lovelessness” (23).
This understanding of nihilism helps us to understand the aspects of
freedom and destiny present in the quest for meaningful life that young
Black men are engaged in. Using Tillich’s theology we have analyzed the
predicament of one slice of this group, the slice that hs turned to
criminal behavior. I hope that in framing their lifestyle theologically, I
have made what are the beginning steps of my journey toward a
faith-centered solution to their problem.
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