I am being hunted. I have felt this way for more than 3 decades. There was a time where I thought this feeling was imagined, but not anymore. I have three earned degrees and I am currently working on a fourth and I feel hunted. Yet, the feeling doesn’t escape me. It is not imaginary. I am being hunted. It is a feeling that has nothing to do with my inherent paranoia being historically intertwined with a nation that forcefully removed my ancestors from our homeland in chains. Nor does this feeling preoccupy itself with historical vestiges of by gone eras where overt racism was viewed as socially unacceptable pre 45. Nope. It is the emotional contortions that flood my central nervous system anytime I am driving anywhere close to a police car. It is the feeling of knowing that Philando Castile, Trayvon Martin, Freddy Gray, Michael Brown, and Amir Rice were real people as opposed to hash tags. This feeling has become palatable by American social norms and sanctified by voter suppression in the land of the free and home of the brave. I am being hunted. Then...
The artist, formerly known as Jay Z, dropped his new album 4:44 six days ago
And my hunted soul began to breathe. If only but for 39 minutes or so.
No, the album does not feature a 7-step process to Afrotopia. No it does not lay the groundwork to failing schools in blighted urban wastelands. Yes, it does absolutely feel as if Mr. Carter and his wife have consciously decided to cash in on the long-standing profit-tradition of American vulnerability. However, something more is going on amidst the beautifully placed samples of Stevie Wonder, The Clarke Sisters, and Donny Hathaway. And that something is an acknowledgement of what it feels like to be hunted… Elitist… Money Obsessed…Self Righteous …Cathartic… Self-Serving. 4:44 is a mass-produced invitation for Black men in particular to put our ever so fragile feelings on the American landscape on our terms. It is an invitation to journey beyond the American norms of success and start a quest towards that courageous ideal called authenticity (again) on our terms. Indeed, a lofty ideal to aspire for when you’re knowingly being hunted. Yet, Black greatness was and will always be inextricably linked to one word that starts with “N”.
Pay close attention to 4:44’s video “The Story of OJ”.
“A traumatic experience is a seismic event that shakes our belief in a just world, robbing us of the sense that life is controllable, predictable, and meaningful.”
This quote was pulled from the remarkable Sheryl Sandberg’s new best seller Sheryl Sandberg, Option B: Facing Adversity, Building Resilience, and Finding Joy. The tragic loss of Facebook’s COO’s husband has been well documented and her remarkable resilience is a testament to her character and her unrelenting spirit. Yet, even her resilience is nestled into the undeniable privilege provided to her at birth. She is white. What about the hunted? What are the narrative options in American public discourse available to us? My youngest son had a friend die tragically every year from the 8th grade until he graduated from high school despite living in a half-million dollar home. In all of my self-righteous clamoring for him to be “twice as good to get just as far” I forgot that he too was being hunted and he too had holes in his soul that longed to be filed. Holes that would not be filled by my sermonizing or his simply getting better grades. He continues to be pulled over despite his clean-shaven appearance and being a member of the National Guard. The fact remains for us both, that part and parcel of being too Black in America is the acknowledgement of the fact that we must both contend with our personal shortcomings while living in a country that has institutionalized the moral hypocrisy of being born of a skin color that is not white. And that ain’t easy. Check out “Family Feud” on 4:44 and pay close attention to verbal angst between generations. Being hunted is An American dilemma, but there are many Uncle Ruckus’ loading firearms and carrying spears.
Where are those spaces for us that embody the contradiction in the American social contract to dwell for clarity and courage? Many churches and other communities of worship feel like casinos to many of those on the emotional margins and even the time- honored traditions of the Black barbershop or Black fraternity don’t offer spaces for tangible inspiration. Sean Carter’s mentioning of “owning” Prince’s masters is as much an offering of a new narrative as it is an indictment to the music industry and Prince’s family. To be hunted and be in business should mean to make a conscious attempt to behave differently on behalf of others. To be hunted while being a social engineer is to consciously act upon the distinction between charity and justice. To not be perfect but to be relentless in your passion for “better” on your own terms are the lyrics the hunted crave. It is not false hope, but the acknowledgement of possibilities. Even for the hunted. Listen carefully to the album’s “Caught Their Eyes” and the inter-faith refuge being offered over a traditional Gospel hook.
Music has always served as a source for the hunted. It has never been a solution. Music has always provided a sense of refuge for American citizens whose skin has been kissed by the Sun. From Pentecostal services in the woods in the Ante Bellum South… to the smoke filled big band spaces like the Savoy in Harlem…to gospel-infused blues music from current day Memphis… music has been a shield of protection from perpetual harsh realities. 4:44’s contribution to the hunted is a sacred vow to return to the Self. Not in a religious sense, but in a redefining of swagger as something more than something external and exciting. That lasting swagger requires constant work and continual wisdom. That thoughtful introspection can generate a moral imagination that can be planted in frailty and with time birth seismic events of which one’s family can live into for generations. Even in the midst of democratic experiment that is seemingly contaminated beyond historic heights of personal responsibility. It is finding the internal tools to create a society within society, because being the next Jackie Robinson or Barack Obama ain’t enough. Not when you’re being hunted. Listen to the closing song “Legacy” twice. American “Family Values” is being given some funk.
“Love takes off the masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within. I use the word "love" here not merely in the personal sense but as a state of being, or a state of grace - not in the infantile American sense of being made happy but in the tough and universal sense of quest and daring and growth.” James Baldwin
Thanks, Jay err… I mean Shawn. It is time for to take off our masks and grow up. America and her 21st century hunters be damned.
