The other day at Costco I was picking up some bulk items, including bottled water. As I approached the stacks of 40 bottle cases, an unusually large crowd was swarming around — adding cases to their shopping carts. As I hefted my two cases to my cart, it dawned on me that a few years ago this scene would have been bizarre in the absence of a serious water emergency.
I questioned some fellow shoppers about why bottled water was their choice. The universal answer was, “I no longer trust tap water.” When asking “why,” the dominant response was, “tap water is not as pure as it used to be.”
This resonated with a deep African American identity issue that had troubled me for years.
Anxiety
Since the dawn of the modern Black Consciousness Movement, I have been a strong advocate for African American advancement on all fronts. Over these many decades, “Black is beautiful” has been my mantra — not because I say so, but because it IS. The basis of this truth is that all humanity bears the image of God — even in our current flawed state. For me, being African American is a great honor and privilege. In fact, if I had to do it all over again, I would not change a thing about my ethnicity.
Over the last few years, however, I found myself disagreeing with most well-known African Americans, including leaders, celebrities, militants and politicians, etc.. At times I have even strongly opposed them. This gave me anxiety. This unease increased relentlessly — even bordering on dysphoria. I even had doubts about my own state of mind. “What is happening to me?” “Am I becoming a sell-out?” “...A “‘bougie’ Negro?” “...An “Oreo?”* “What’s gone wrong?....”
