Ronda Holder and the Tale of the Embarassed Slacker Son: When keeping It Real Goes Right

“Solve the problem yourself, or accept a fate you may not like…from this perspective, the ethic of personal responsibility gains appeal.”

--Noel M. Tichy

So often do we read about how our children are failing in life (and all too little of how we, as parents, are complicit in that), it’s refreshing to actually stumble upon stories of parents actually being parents.

Take this story I read on AOL (“SmackDown:  Would You Publicly Punish Your Child?”, by Jessica Samakow and Mary Beth Sammons).  These women offer differing viewpoints of what one woman, Ronda Holder of Florida, did when she got tired of her son’s lack of effort and decided to get him back on track. 

You see, Holder’s son is 15 years old, and I assume he’s a high school sophomore.  He currently rocks a grade point average of 1.22.

You read that right.  1.22.

So, after trying in vain to get through to him that a (barely) D-average isn’t where you aspire to have in life, Ms. Holder took the remarkable step of forcing him to face his situation, by way of making him face the citizens of metro Tampa.

On a street corner.  Holding up a placard that reads, “My GPA is 1.22; honk if you think I need an education.”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!

Now, one would think that parents like Ronda Holder would garner some semblance of praise from a nation already wary of black underachievement (and the connotations attached to it), or at the very least elicit some sympathy from the masses.  That would be incorrect. 

I also said in the beginning that the authors hold opposing views on the story:  Samakow sides with the parent, Sammons believes that Holder should be reported to Child Services. 

Personally, I don’t give a shit what these bitches think.  Here is the truth as I know it:

There are a lot of people in this country who go out of their way to bitch and moan about the state of our public education system, but do nothing about it, especially with their own kids.  We extol the virtues of personal responsibility and limited government interaction, and yet go out of our way to prosecute people when they actually try to do it by themselves.  We want to hold young people accountable, but somehow feel (erroneously) that we must somehow protect their feelings in the process.

For many people, this is simply a matter of education and work ethic.  For families like the Holders, it’s about life and death.  Literally.  And when it comes to ensuring that someone’s child grows to be a functioning, productive member of society, fuck little Jimmy and his feelings. 

Now I know that the concept of public shame went the way of Curtis Mathes TVs and Betamax VCRs a long time ago, but you know what?  It works.  It’s old-school.  It’s timeless.  And for the record, I’m not too big on the concept of “tough love” either:  most people don’t appreciate the meaning of the term, and hide behind it as a convenient excuse to inflict unnecessary trauma on other people.    But when used properly, shame can be an effective motivational tool.  Not because it’s an easy thing to endure, but when you have a 1.22 GPA, you SHOULD be fucking embarrassed!  You SHOULD be ashamed!  And I have no sympathy for anyone who suffers the consequences of such meager efforts.

But you can’t convince some people of that, unfortunately, because a lot of people, including Hillsborough County Children’s Board member Arlinda Amos, feel that what Holder did was cruel.  “It definitely would fall within the category of emotional abuse,” she says. 

Bullshit. 

What idiots like Amos fail to appreciate is that emotional abuse would apply if the Ronda Holders of the world didn’t exhaust all necessary avenues through the system to fix their problem.  Emotional abuse would be a valid argument if she wasn’t at her wit’s end.  I cannot completely render her blameless—after all, she IS the parent, and responsible to a large degree for her son’s education (and a 1.2 average doesn’t just come out of nowhere) --this clearly was a woman who understood what’s really at stake here, and she was going to do whatever it takes for her son not to grow into a statistic.  If he’s scarred by the experience, well, he put himself there.  It’s HIS grades that got him there.  Actions have consequences, and he has no one to blame for himself.  But sure, feel free to criticize why she never got involved so much before, if you must.  But also be grateful that she’s getting her point across NOW, instead of having the system (welfare, penal, whatever) do it for her.

And don’t give me that crap about how this boy may have some learning deficiency, or he’s retarded, or how this somehow solidifies the claims that black youth will always be a step behind their peers.  There’s not a damn thing wrong with this kid that a little wall-to-wall counseling (you didn’t read that) wouldn’t cure.  And how would you know whether or not there is a father or male figure in the home? And past a certain point, why is that supposedly the overriding factor?  Seriously, you have to demand things of people in order to get something out of them, and the fact that no one really is willing to do that (including his enablers) is the biggest contributor to his failure.  Excellence doesn’t come out of a vacuum.  It only comes from an environment of tough standards and tougher enforcement.  You will be given all the advantages and chances you are going to get in this world and no one will shed a tear on your behalf if you fail to make something of them.  That’s Life 101.  So stop giving the little fucker a pass because he’s black, or (you think) he’s poor, or because he’s a teen and you think he’ll grow out of it (he might not get the chance).  It’s those attitudes that make it easy for the true bigots out there to continue denying black people.  If he’s a lazy fuck, then call him on it.  Otherwise, you're no better than he is.

But some of you will still feel like Holder is wrong for what she did.  You may not agree with her methods, but to infer that she acted with malice could never be more mistaken.  Malice is letting your kid skate by with inferior grades and no work ethic.  What's cruel is shielding your kids from learning how the world really works (you don’t give, you don’t get).  Cruelty is allowing your kid to be further stigmatized by the reinforcing the stereotypes that continue to hold us down, to feed into the lie that good grades are a “white” thing, by taking a person already hobbled by the soft racism of low expectations and crippling him further by instilling a false sense of victimization.  Not developing a sense of personal value in your child by not defining for him what constitutes value (nor demanding of him the appreciation for such things), that shit is cruel.  Not giving any more of a damn about your kids than how much they bring in public assistance and EIC, that shit is cruel.  I agree with Samakow.  If anybody should be reported to Child Services, it’s the parents and others who enable them who allow this shit to begin with.

There is a difference between discipline and abuse.  Discipline means to teach.  Cruelty teaches as well, perhaps, but affirms nothing.  Ronda Holder stripped her son of some cheap, plastic tokens that can only buy him a trip to diaster, and in doing so gave him a better lesson in life than anything he could read in a textbook.  What this woman did wasn’t an act of maliciousness or unwarranted cruelty.  It was an act of love.

Listen, folks, not all medicine is supposed to taste good.  And too much of a good thing can kill just as easily as too much of the bad stuff.  In that regard, love cannot always gentle and kind.  It is sometimes harsh and abrupt.  It has to be, if you want to fix what’s broken or prevent what might happen with indifference.  As much as I love and treasure the relationships I have with my children, I would hold their asses up for public ridicule in a minute if it stops them from acting a fool.

I still remember growing up in a home where my dad threatened my older brother and me every year that if we didn’t make the grade at school, we’d be wearing the same clothes next year.  And as cheap as my daddy was (I’m sorry, STILL IS), we couldn’t bear the thought of wearing clothes already built to disintegrate in seven washes another year.  This wasn’t (only) because he was a tightwad; it was because he was trying to teach us that new clothes, like good educations, are luxuries that most people never see.  And with certain luxuries (and privileges) come expectations.  If you wanted things in life, you were expected to produce.  If you want to maintain what you have, you must take care of them.  If you do neither, you can do without.

Ronda Holder was teaching her son the same goddamn thing, that obedience is greater than sacrifice.  I say good for her, and all the better for her son.  And better that Holder's kid sacrifices a little pride today, than what little of his dignity is left by the time he’s 30.  At that point, he may still be holding up a sign on the street corner.  Only instead of telling people of his laziness, he’ll be begging them for spare change.   

I’d wager instead that in 15 years, he and society will thank this woman for what she did, and wish that many others loved their kids enough to do the same thing. 

Ms. Holder, I thank you now.

Black History Month: Mend It, Don’t End It

Hi folks, and welcome to another edition of TPL.  Happy Black History Month.

At least I'd like for you to enjoy it.

But if you're like me, you already know that February is going to be about four things: 
  1.  A whole lot of tired, patronizing ads from companies who see BHM as yet another vehicle to squeeze yet another dollar from your wallet.
  2.  A whole lot more idiots who will walk the earth believing that Mae Jemison was not the first black woman in space, but the mammy-cartoon character for a brand of pancake mix.
  3.  Even more idiots whose only tangible knowledge of the black history is slavery, Martin Luther King, and Barack Obama.  Or that sufficient commentary on the black experience derives from rap music, BET, The Cosby Show, Jesse Jackson/Al Sharpton/whatever hot mess is calling himself in charge of the local or regional NAACP, and, yes, Barack Obama.
  4.  And yet even more idiots who, in spite of all I've said above (and there's so much more we could each contribute), will still question the need for a Black History Month in the first place.

Black men, Black women, this is our fault.

You read that right.  We only have ourselves the blame.

Part of the reason BHM is so fucked up right now is that we aren't teaching it right.  Sometimes I truly wonder if we're teaching anything at all.  I know we're not learning much.
(I mean, I appreciate the "Little Known Black History Facts" on the TJMS as much as anyone, but how many of us have actually gone out and ordered a subscription to American Legacy magazine?  You know, the source for all those facts you hear on the radio everyday?  Exactly.)

And that's just part of what's wrong with BHM.  Perhaps the most egregious offense is that, inexplicably, we've allowed not just (racist, far-right, and culturally indifferent--it is a must that I qualify this) white people, but just about anyne who is diametrically opposed to our collective interests to co-opt vestiges of our history.  Every time I hear some tripe from the mouths of a Dennis Prager or an L. Brent Bozell, someone who will never be mistaken for a friend of black people, or even (black man) Larry Elder to invoke MLK as a means to support the notion of black pathology, I want to vomit.  But what makes me actually do it is the knowledge that no one ever stands up to these people.

Are we that ignorant of our history, so derelict of our responsibility, and so unappreciative of our legacy that we're just gonna let it go for a pittance?  How are we supposed to expect others to respect where we've come from when we ourselves won't do it?  Nobody is going to our backyards to mow our lawns; pulling the weeds and trimming the hedges is our job, and ours alone.

Ironically, it was Carter G. Woodson's ideal that the day would come when there would be no need for a black history week, let alone a month.  But at the rate we're going, Tom Joyner will commemorate a Black History DECADE before I'm an old man.  (And that is the paradox for all you BHM haters.  The less you get us, the more you will get all that we've done in February.  So there.  You wanna see the end of Black History Month?  Learn black history.)

Black History Month used to be special.  It was a time when we looked back and shared our collective experiences and touched the embroidery of the threads our people wove into the American fabric.  Now it's been cheapened and marginalized.  More people know Rosa Parks as a rap song than the woman who sat down on a hot day in Montgomery.  (How even fewer people know about Claudette Colvin, who actually preceded Parks in protesting Montgomery bus segregation, is beyond criminal.)  Fraternities and sorrorities are more likely to hold house parties than encourage intellectual discourse in black homes.  Our institutions can organize rallies and boycotts in support of the Jena (La.) 6 or the Scott sisters of Mississippi,  but no NAACP member has yet demanded that the town of Scottsboro, Alabama commemorate the legacy of nine teenage boys who actually were victims of an injust legal system.  We can protest a raggedy ass flag depicting the defeated army of a long-forgotten empire (save the neo-confederate apologist groups out there), but say nothing about all those Confederate memorials across the South that I believe cause more harm to our self-esteem than whatever diaper South Carolina wants to fly over its state capitol.

This is the shit we've got to fix, people.  When the people who laud Bill Clinton as our, ahem, first "black" president refuse to hold him to task for the way he threw Sister Soulja, Lani Guinier and Joycelyn Elders under the bus, that's a problem.  When we fall all over ourselves about how hip-hop denigrates our women, but fail to acknowledge how early R&B, rock and roll, jazz, and the blues featured artists whose lyrics and lifestyles would make Eazy-E blush, that's a problem.  When we hold up those same yellowed and fading portraits of MLK, Lincoln, and Kennedy, and yap about how someone else got beat up and sprayed with high pressure hoses somewhere else, but have no knowledge about any black person of historical significance to your own fucking neighborhood, that is a problem.

When we lament how our children don't seem to know anything, but we haven't learned the things they should be taught; and we say that our children lack any respect for authority when we haven't shown them the type of person who's worthy of respect, when our history and culture are defined by one particular network that black people no longer own, we have a problem.

But, thankfully, with every problem comes a solution.  Black History Month as we know it can be fixed.  And it starts by reclaiming our history and our legacy from the brink.  Let's start getting involved again; let's start reading, discussing, and engaging each other in the issues that matter to us.  Let's challenge those people who dispense lies and half-truths about our history for their own selfish reasons.  Let's actually go out and learn something about somebody who made an impact in our own communities.  I know that is a lot harder for someone living in Swamp Fox, SC than it is for a cat in Atlanta, but it should also be that much more rewarding. Let's appreciate that the luxury of having such a rich history and heritage comes with the responsibility to see that endures.  Because black history is American history.  We were here before the Mayflower, we shed the first drops of blood for democracy, we fought bravely and honorably in every conflict this nation has ever fought.  We created American music, and redefined American athletics.  We changed the game in our own way, and often on our own terms.  That's something to be celebrated, not ignored.

So with this, I start my observance of Black History Month 2011.  Not from the puropse of seeing it fade into indifference, but out of the hope of seeing our history securely intertwined within the links of all things American, for that is the only way that BHM truly becomes obsolete.

May the next 27 days be fruitful and prosperous to all.