CAMPUS CORRESPONDENCE : Is This the Way Blacks Can Be All That They Can Be?

Amajor complaint heard during the Persian Gulf War was that blacks are disproportionately represented in the U.S. armed forces. Lots of young blacks, explained some black “leaders,” were in the military because it represented their only real opportunity to escape poverty. As a black man, that explanation bothered me. With the United States possibly facing renewed conflict in the Gulf, it disturbs me more than ever.

During my junior year in high school, I knew one of these supposedly desperate young blacks. His name was Derrick; he was a senior. As his graduation day approached, I started asking him about his plans. He wasn’t sure about college, or what he intended to do with a degree if he decided to get one.

We began discussing politics--Kadafi, Nicaragua, blacks. Although politics had never interested him before, I didn’t question his new fervor. Then he said he was going to join the Air Force.

I assumed his plan was tentative. He couldn’t have taken much time to think about it. Still, he seemed adamant. He would serve, then get the money to go to college when he got out. Or, if he liked it enough, he would make a career of it. It was hard to believe.

I asked him why he would possibly risk his life for a belated education when he could apply for federal aid and go to school in the fall. His grades were good enough. If money were the main problem, he could go to junior college for a couple of years, or a black college. I suggested that he might just work for a while and put away some money. But the military? On a whim? No.

When I pressed him, he said: “I love this country, man. I want to fight for this country, for freedom.”

Now I was really worried.

I told Derrick about the huge numbers of minorities who were drafted and placed at the front lines--in disproportionate numbers to their percentage of the U.S. population--during the Vietnam War. He read “Bloods,” a book about blacks in Vietnam. His only response: “Those brothers were brave. They stood for somethin’.”

Of course they were brave. But the point was that their lives had been sacrificed by a country that had disfranchised them. What they “stood for” was a racist legacy, perpetrated against them from the day they were born. But they had no choice--they were drafted. Derrick was volunteering to continue that evil legacy.

Derrick signed up for six years. “I’m going to like it,” he said. “I know it.”

He had to give up any hope he had of flying when he barely passed the written exam. Then he thought he’d try military intelligence--that most brilliant of oxymorons--but that fizzled as well. He settled for a job in airplane security, apparently some kind of exalted MP.

I didn’t say goodby to Derrick the day he left for the service. I was too angry with him. I saw him one more time, in the summer of 1987, when he came home on a brief furlough. He wasn’t enjoying Texas, where he was stationed, but he claimed to be “learning a lot.” I felt like telling him that he could have “learned” in college, but there was no point in wasting my breath. I haven’t heard from him since.

I’d almost forgotten Derrick until the Gulf War started. For a brief moment, I felt sorry for him. But he was an adult who had made a decision, one that he knew he’d have to live--or die--by.

And that’s the point that seems to elude people who see young blacks like Derrick as victims. If they are, it should be pointed out that there are cases in which people can become accomplices to their own oppression. If it is true that black males have few opportunities for success in America, and if this is due to a conspiracy by the white majority, the last place blacks should turn to for help is the government, specifically the military. It is stupid to believe that the government that has been a party to the disfranchisement of blacks will gladly supply them with free higher education. Nothing is free. Indeed, there is a severe price to pay for such a “favor”--anyone who served in the Persian Gulf is all too aware of that now, especially since they may be going back.

As for the claim that blacks can more easily achieve success through the military, I couldn’t disagree more. My generation has the highest number of black college students. We have a chance to enter the heretofore impenetrable “system” that held our ancestors back. But that chance has to be seized by learning the survival techniques of mainstream corporate America, and using them to create alternatives (read: opportunities) for those who come later.

That task can’t be performed in the military, which operates apart from society. And I don’t want to hear about “role models” like Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman Colin L. Powell. The white media present him as an example for underprivileged black youths because he is safe and uncontroversial. During his news conferences with Gen. H. Norman Schwarzkopf, Powell mostly stood by, looking frightfully distinguished, occasionally dropping in an authoritative “That’s correct.”

I hope young blacks will think long and hard about whether or not the military is the answer for them. And I hope their answer will be no. But if it’s yes, all I can say is, caveat emptor .