So be it

So be it
by WILBERT A. TATUM
Publisher Emeritus and Chairman of the Board
Originally posted 7/24/2008

As the Denver Moment comes closer and closer to reality, Black Americans sit on tenterhooks believing with quiet desperation that at the time when they thought it could never happen, it did.That which America believed with all its soul and heart could never come to pass is on the cusp of reality. A Black man—in truth a Black and white man—has a real possibility of becoming president of the United States. Perhaps no one believed this could happen except Mrs. Obama and the children and then a friend or two, then some neighbors, then some guys and gals from academia, then some folks from the pool halls, factories, schools, and then people on street corners, subway lines, in churches and beyond. And now we believe. We were afraid to believe before.Some were afraid it might happen and some were afraid it might not for different reasons. Who in the hell would believe that racist America could choose a Black man to become leader oftheir free world? Many would hope but few would believe. They could not believe because the script isn’t written that way in any normal worldly script or stage play we have ever seen or heard of regarding the American condition and what is to happen to it. Therefore, don’t blame us for not believing. One is a belief built on hope that says, in effect, “You made your point, boy. Now go home. We believe you can do it but don’t try anymore. These people want to kill you.”This may well be true. And each day and every hour —hour after hour — proof of our forced belief comes down as thunder and we see the possibility of Senator Obama’s winning and a more real possibility that someone will try to kill him. It comes in a voice that is shrill and certain, a voice that intones “This time we’ll get it right.” And there in the wilderness of our dreams, some where there comes a stop to what has been suggested, a stop to all this nonsensical rhetoric. Sure, the man is going to win. Don’t you remember during the last phases of the campaign as we listened to gospel music blaring through Black radio and then the discussions about the state of Black America where some elderly woman, as convinced as anything that Gods was good, gracious and kind, saying over and over again talking about our candidate, “He be winning. He be winning. He be winning.” On reflection, there is no thought of death anymore except the thought of the demise of a racist America. Surely this is something to pray for, something to hope for and something to demand. And then, as suddenly as anything can happen—call it a flash of light or a clap of thunder —with these words as soothing and as gentle as could be coming from a talking machine of some kind to fill our ears, we hear, “And I fall on my knees, with my face to the rising sun, saying, ‘Oh Lord, have mercy on my soul.’” Then came a lesson of instruction and a reprimand: “You did not believe my son and now you believe. It came in time. You faced your maker and he stood you down. Lord have mercy on your soul.” One need not be concerned much anymore about the outcome of this election. For those who are the Black religious in our country attending the rock-and-roll churches are convincing our Black brothers and sisters who have strayed away from the Almighty to seek some comfort in churches that are not their own, in communities that refuse to have them while closing their eyes to the goodness and to the grace of all of us in all our years that the die is cast. The Messiah will come. Knowing that the light of life and the light of love are in all of us, we pray for the health and wealth of Senator Barack Obama during his trip to our destiny. So be it.