Sunday, February 9, 2014

White supremacist conditioning and a lovely afternoon at the library...

"Give us a boy 'til the age of seven and we'll show you the man."
--The Jesuits

Firstly, I'd like to apologize to the readers of this Blog for the paucity of posts as of late.

I've been in the midst of moving, along with a myriad of other 'life' problems I'm dealing with; one of which is, I'm currently between ISP companies right now: so, I'm doing the majority of my Blogging from the annals of my local library. 

But rest assured, I'll be operating at my max capacity in the very near stay tuned, 'cause I've got a lot of cool topics I'll cover soon.

With that said, here's my latest post...enjoy!
The other day, I was at my local library and I had my laptop in tow.

Now, I knew from the previous hours of using it, how low its battery's power was; and when I looked around to all the seats near electrical outlets, I realized they were all occupied.

Fortunately, my local branch is mid-sized and has a couple of sections to traverse. So, reluctantly, I headed for the children's section 'cause it was the least crowded.

Now, I don't care for being in the company of pre-adolescents, but this was an emergency.

There were some kindergarteners roaming about their section, so I tried to look as innocuous and nonthreatening as possible; which was a lost cause on every front. But it wasn't a matter of parents or kids giving me any attitude, it was my feeling hyper-conspicuous that kept me unsettled.

But after a good while of finding a particular table to sit at, I gotta' admit the section's vibe was kinda' nice. After the better part of half an hour, the sun broke free from some oppressive cloud cover and glistened through the area's floor to ceiling windows. Right beyond the paned glass was an assortment of potted plants, angular shrubs and small trees making the area look more like a topiary; and directly across the street was a white church that seemed to glow in the sun's gaze.

The combination of the section's tan colored carpet and the mahogany desk I sat at was making this library feel more like a large Starbucks.

That's when what looked like a five year old boy, traipsed over to a section of books adjacent to my table. His father followed closely behind.

After a couple of minutes the two started conversing about different books. That's when this young white boy said “Dad, you know the southern part of the Sudan is one of the best areas (of Africa) to visit 'cause the people there are the most civil.”

Now, I hadn't heard the earlier part of the conversation and I'm paraphrasing what this young guy said, but the comment's inflection spoke to what he'd been taught and had been conditioned to believe about Africa. And what he'd obviously heard was what we've all heard about our mother continent, and that's how famine plagued and uncivilized its Black citizens are.

The father was a bit dismayed about his son's lack of discretion, but only for a second, 'cause right afterwards, they both returned to looking at books.

Then the young white boi said, “You know Dad, there are two Santas, one is white and one's Black.” The father didn't respond but you could tell he wanted his son to shut up. See, what the child didn't know, was he was exposing what kind of parenting he was getting from his father; and how he was being indoctrinated into a sublime form of bigotry.

The white boi reiterated, “Dad, the two santas are from opposite polls, one south and one north, the white santa is from the north pole...the African santa is from the south pole...and he's Black.”

That's when the father ushered his son to another section; inwardly, I was like, wow.

Mind you, this kid looked to be only about five or six, but what he already learned and was conveying to his father was how there's something intrinsically wrong with being Black. The kid hadn't developed an internal filter yet, so he was just saying what came to mind. And again, he was exposing what his father taught him.

That's when I thought about the Jesuit's saying that I wrote at the top of this post.

By the time a person is five or six years old, they have the personality and character traits that will ultimately follow them throughout their lives, unless they do the subconscious work to recondition themselves out of whatever trait they don't like.

It blew my mind how this kid already got the message that he shouldn't like Black people. And his father obviously felt the same way, but he didn't want to air out his mental dirty laundry.

Then I looked over at the church I mentioned earlier and noticed it was painted white; and even though this church had a weather-beaten look to it, and could have definitely used a new paint job in a different hue, the proprietors seemed not to want to change its exterior.

And the church had a clever saying on its marquee; it read: Seven days without prayer makes one weak. Now, even though that's catchy, it's telling of how this white supremacist message spewed by the church and other institutions, is one the white elite want us to carry with us everyday and everywhere.

This made the church's mission, as well as the mission of every institutional facet of the white supremacist social order, even clearer to me.

Why do you think we're given a white bottle of milk to drink as infants?

Understand, cow's milk is strictly for its calves, it's not suppose to be for human consumption. But we're given this so throughout our lives so we'll always have positive connotations to the color white...moreover, we'll always associate the color white to thoughts of wholesomeness, safety, and if we're given these bottles while we're with our mothers, we get the message that this color is necessary to our mothers are.

Then, several minutes after the white father and son left, something else happened.

A lone Black man was looking over another book shelf near my table, and I shamefully admit, what came to my mind first comes trouble.

I shook my head clear.

See, I can spout out all these posts about reconditioning the subconscious I want, but I still have work to do on myself; 'cause I still have prejudices against my own people I need to recondition myself out of.

A lyric popped into my head from a heavy metal band I once listened to: “Agony is the price that you pay in the end, domination consumes you and calls you a's a twisted foe.”

This is the plight of every person, especially every Black person, living in this global white supremacist social order.

And like myself...we've got a lot of work to do to resolve this brainwashed condition we're in.

So, like I've said a thousand times, it's imperative the Black diaspora work to get ourselves back to a place of loving one another...ASAP!! And it's imperative that we do the meditation and other mental exercises that will help us accomplish this.

'Cause we desperately need to internalize one of our African ancestors great ancient axioms, and that is: IF THERE'S NO ENEMY WITHIN, THE ENEMY WITHOUT CAN DO US NO HARM.



MontUHURU Mimia


  1. Eh, I feel safer around whites than blacks. That's not conditioning. That's reality. I agree with your overall message of positivity though.

    1. Eh, that's because you're a.) white yourself, b.) an anglophile, or c.) both.

      Tell me how safe a Black man is around a white cop.