This Son Also Rises in the West

I was born as the middle child growing up, and the elders always said that the middle child is the mystic or strange one, or the changed one. As a young boy I always wondered about the tall stories and lies told to me from the school house to the lord’s house. I would ask questions that usually wouldn’t be answered. I couldn’t understand this then, and so I developed a sense of skepticism as a result of these falsehoods. I was determined to seek out and find the means to extract truth from these lies and fabrications. Fortunately for me I came of age when change was the order of the day. The old ways were becoming anew and this meant a rebirth of a new consciousness, concepts and conclusions. I didn’t know then; that I as the middle child would be used as the light and the magnet to attract all the loose ends of my immediate family and bring us together as one. This kind of phenomenon is commonly known as a miracle. It’s highly unlikely in this culture, to find such a thing, particularly in those days of self hate and spiritual starvation. The answers may surprise some, or it may enlighten others; either way you’ll find yourself as part of this journey in the same way that history collects and connects us all. I’m from the generation who boldly demanded answers from those derailed and swept aside questions. It was my peers that exclaimed “Black is Beautiful and Black Power and all power to the People”, and “Hell no, we won’t go”. We became those dried bones being gathered together for a new awakening. The authorities and power brokers of my era thought our actions were rebellious without a cause. They thought that we were just a lot of noise; sound and fury signifying nothing. The end can quite often justify the means and as we look back we can clearly see the results of those efforts, have open the highways of the possible today. I remember reading Alex Hailey’s acclaimed novel entitled “Roots” and the TV epic as well. Unfortunately most of that story was centered on slavery and its evils. I never accepted the notion that slavery was our starting point in this world. Who were we before slavery? What was our life style? How did we worship and see ourselves amongst the balance of world humanity. Nonetheless these two events enabled me to recognize an important, truthful conclusion; we are not who they have made us to be, and so who have we become? The most significant aspect of that story is the fact that many of our ancestors in Africa were from an Islamic society; not an Arab society, but an Islamic one. It is this single reality that forms the beginning and ending of our collective roots. In hindsight it becomes a question of what happened to the lies we once believed to be truth and what are we prepared to do about it as we travel on our journeys of tomorrow. In the words of my beloved scholar; Al-Hajj Malik Shabazz (Malcolm X) “Of all our studies, history is best qualified to reward our research”, why because it leads you to the truth and the truth shall set you free! Alas; in the beginning none of this seemed to be very significant because I was born in Newark, New Jersey and barley knew my ancestors from two generations ago; However all things change with growth and maturity and one of those changes is that over time your eyes and mind become open. The opening of your conscious mind’s eye will clearly define who you are, as an individual and also from a global perspective. It’s a beautiful view of you from the inside out, and you are never the same again. This book travels through a time capsule in the life of one family entwined within the complex events of those times. In the final analysis we discover that this was a family who all became prodigal sons and daughters navigating their way to a new conscious and spiritual home, and being a welcomed when they arrived. It’s a story of a scarred and broken family and its scattered members who finally embraced their collective roots to a tree that gives shelter, shade and fine fruit. This reclamation of their roots gave them three things: a shield to protect them, a weapon to attack with, and a pillow of peace to rest their heads upon. This Families journey is overlaid with the history of social /political dramas that changed the course and consciousness of America. The twisted and turned roads traveled in this saga begin in the era of the fabulous fifties, through the turbulent sixties and beyond, and concluding within the present. This story and its journeys are anything but typical. It unravels a myriad of challenges and successes quite unparallel in the lives of typical struggling families of African descent. The backdrop of this evolution begins in a once thriving North Eastern city. This is a city in the state of New Jersey which was once filled with all the hopes and dreams of America’s great promise. The city is Newark, as it was then and the New- Ark it became; and the destiny that it strives to become which is; a New Jerusalem. People talk all the time about if you make it in New York you can make it anywhere. Well that should be applied double if you make it through Newark. It isn’t called Brick City for nothing; it’s hard and you got to be strong as a brick, to keep it together. The subsequent events along this epic journey in many ways are fortunate and traditionally very typical. Once again we witness the courage, tenacity and determination needed to overcome obstacles and stacked odds, which African Americans have endured time and time again. And as a result we find the answer to the proverbial question of: “What happens to a dream deferred”. As you embark upon this historical journey; you too shall discover what happens when a young man’s mind seeks answers to questions unanswered, in search of a path towards truths unknown. There are biblical and spiritual references that tell us “a child shall lead”. Perhaps that’s where we need to be headed; fore surely the adults have left many of us lost and astray, There are always forces in the universe that serve as advisors, mentors and sign post along our roads of life. This novel- biography becomes another testimony to the fact that it takes all the villages to raise a child. In order to find love and protection for us all; both singularly and collectively, we need one another, all the time. This is not a prescription for all souls but may serve as a remedy to many of the social and family divides that leave us uprooted and distraught. There may never be a remedy that fits everyone, but for this family a beckoned light had paved the road to reflection, redemption and reform. We all know that light dispels the darkness and there is no brighter light in our universe like the sun. When the sun rises, the darkness fades; and this is the metaphor to this story. The solar sun rises in the West and sets in the East, but the prodigal Son will rise in the West and directs his light towards the East. In these days of humane darkness we could all use a little light; and so in the words of that old Negro spiritual let us begin. “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine” let it shine, let it shine, shine on.”