Mama’s Black Child

At the tender age of eleven years, I knew that I was not compatible with my community or my family. The available careers dangles before this impressionable black boy were construction worker, schoolteacher, or maybe working in the orange grove. My qualms about becoming a construction worker centered on working for my older brother. I had misgivings about going to college to become a schoolteacher (which was my mother’s wish). If I became a grove worker, I would have to work for a white man with an education probably inferior to my own. At that age, if I could have selected a career for myself, I would have been an airplane pilot. However, when I was eleven, little black boys were not allowed to become airplane pilots. In my community, I knew only a few people who could be called successful; that is, if success is defined as succeeding fully or in accordance with one’s own desires. That is how I determine success. However, with the black mentality usually subordinate to the white man’s wishes, sometimes blacks were confused about their 'success.’ If they were in their so-called station in life, perhaps kept there by subtle or not-so-subtle force, they mistakenly thought they were successful. Using my definition of success, those men in my community who were successful have left an indelible mark on my life. One such man was my father. Not wanting to work for my older brother and not being able to accept any of the other careers available to me, I enlisted in the U.S. Army. In the army, everyone started on the same foot, and the same authority governed everybody. In other words, I felt that with everybody marching to the same music, I could become a success, and if for some reason I failed, I had no one to blame but myself. I knew there were some prejudices in the army, and I also knew that if I were given half a chance to succeed, I would. In this country, one should never have to say, 'For lack of a chance, I was not successful.' But when we are truly honest, we all know there are still communities in this country that offer little or no chance. Possibly, there are communities with lesser chance than what my community offered some thirty-two years ago.