by James Clingman
�Guest Columnist�

Have you ever wondered what those Black folks, who seem to be afraid of being perceived as "too Black," think when they look into the mirror? Do you think that when they are alone they acknowledge who they really are? Do you think that when they stare at themselves, they appreciate the reflection looking back at them? And, what about this? Do you think�despite some of our brothers� and sisters� reluctance and resistance in some cases to being Black�that they admit who they are and understand their place in history?

I have often said, "You cannot run or move away from being Black; you cannot graduate from being Black; and you cannot gain enough wealth to remove your Blackness." Unfortunately, some of us think we can, and we are sadly disappointed when we find our efforts are futile. Nevertheless, some of us continue to try to assimilate and feel so graciously endowed and "extra special" when allowed in the inner-sanctums of White-owned corporations, country clubs, boards, and all of the other positions that make some of us feel privileged.

Some of our people, to this day, desperately continue to seek that special title of being the "first Black," and use it to rank themselves over others. What do those folks think when they stand absolutely alone and look at themselves? What do they do when faced with a decision that will impact, either positively or negatively, on another Black brother or sister? What do they do when no one is looking?

Someone said good character is "doing the right thing when no one is looking." Being Black has the same application for me. Some of us are so enamored by the trappings of society that when placed in a situation where someone is watching, especially Whites, we tend to do and say what we think they want to hear. You know how it is. We want to be accepted as equals, as peers.

This is especially true in the workplace. It�s the "mask" we wear. But, even if you are one of those Black folks, there will still be times when you will face the reality of your Blackness. There will come a time when you will have to make a decision, when no one is looking, for instance, to make a purchase from a Black-owned business. You may encounter an opportunity to help your brother or sister in a way that may not sit too well with White folks if they found out. What will you do?

Many Black people make those kinds of decisions every day. Our level of consciousness more times than not determines what our final decision will be. We can either run and (try to) hide from our Blackness by walking past a Black-owned store to get to one owned by someone else, or we can patronize the Black storeowner.

We can get lost in the world of status and position and forget about our people, or we can use our intellectual capacity (and financial resources) to help more of our people get to our level and beyond. We can hold the door open for another brother or sister (or, "send the elevator back down," as Dikembe Mutombo says), or we can slam the door and nail it shut, preventing others to follow in our footsteps.

We can make those decisions and many more, all while no one is looking. No one will ever know, unless you tell him or her, that you decided to go against your people rather than help your people. No one will ever see your reluctance and resistance to being what God made you, and demonstrating your Blackness by doing what you can to help your people. No one will see, but will you be able to sleep at night? Will you be able to face your children when they grow up, more enlightened than you; and ask why Black people don�t own more resources than we do; why our businesses fail at such a high rate; why we are no further along economically than we were a generation ago; why our people lead the nation in all the negative categories, why there are so many Black men in prison; why there is such an inordinate number of Black folks who are functionally illiterate. What will you tell them?

Some of us will not be able to say we did anything to help make the situation better. But, I�m sure we�ll come up with something. We can always lie. After all, no one was looking.

(James E. Clingman, adjunct professor in the University of Cincinnati�s African-American Studies department, is former editor of the Cincinnati Herald newspaper and founder of the Greater Cincinnati African-American Chamber of Commerce.)