Malcolm X changed my life

Today marks the 55th anniversary of Malcom X's assassination at the Audobon Ballroom in New York City. His legacy, however, remains as powerful as ever.

It's that legacy that helped reshape my life.

When I joined the Army in 1987, I didn't know many African-American people.

I grew up in a predominantly white city and attended a predominantly white school, and that was before moving to rural Geauga County.

Since I wasn't being exposed to people who didn't look like me at home, the television was my primary source of diversity.

At home, I learned all the racist terms. I heard all the stereotypes. They all were confirmed (confirmation bias) by the television.

My favorite shows during the 1970s--M.A.S.H., Happy Days, The Brady Bunch, The Waltons, The Partridge Family and a few others--weren't very diverse.

My introduction to black people came via The Jeffersons and Fat Albert and Good Times. All the cop shows had white actors in the starring roles--the good guys--and the minority actors all filled the role of the bad guy, the criminal, the thug.

I'd learn more about the media's portrayal of African-Americans later in life, but first it's important to understand just how Malcolm X reached a white teenager who lacked any meaningful diversity experiences.

I attended basic training in the fall of 1987.

There, I bunked with 50-60 other guys from varying races, cultures and worldly perspectives.

Still, the white guys spent their free time with the other white guys and the black guys did the same. The Hispanics, they had their own clique too.

My first duty station led me to Bamberg, Germany.

I arrived in the middle of the night and was assigned a room with three other guys. All three were African-American.

One, who I only remember as "Jake the Snake," was the veteran among the group. He was "short," which meant he only had a month or so left in-country before he'd return to the United States.

Another was on his way out, but he was simply moving down the street as he began a new job.

The third, he'd be my roommate for about a year.

Demetrius Littleton was born and raised in Boston, Mass. Like many of the people I'd meet in the Army, he came from a poor family and didn't have many options to pursue life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

During a field training exercise in Grafenwoehr that summer, Demetrius had finished reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X, which was written by Alex Haley in collaboration with the subject.

In the field, you did one of three things:

1. Hurry up and wait
2. Smoke
3. Read

I wasn't much of a reader at the time so I only had a few magazines to look through to pass the time.

Demetrius offered me his book.

I had never before heard the name Malcolm X or al-Ḥājj Mālik ash-Shabāzz or even Malcolm Little, Malcom X's birth name.

He convinced me the book was worth reading. After all, what else did I have to do?

I read the book. I finished it in record time (for me, at least). I'm sure the last book I had finished from cover to cover was a children's book.

Malcom X's story touched me in many ways.

First, I learned more about my own privilege I didn't even know I had. Heck, I was poor. We ate government cheese and received free lunches at school. How could I enjoy privilege?

Second, Malcolm X confirmed some of the stereotypes I had grown up with. But, more importantly, he taught me something I'd never learn in my bubble. 

Malcolm X turned his life around.

He transformed himself from a common criminal to a prisoner to a man of principle others wanted to follow.

Malcolm X became the hope so many others lacked.

Sure, he rubbed some people the wrong way. The FBI had been wire-tapping Malcolm X long before he rose to national prominence.

In fact, I learned quite a bit more about the FBI's interest in Malcolm X through Neflix's recent documentary, Who Killed Malcolm X?

Obviously, when the autobiography was written, Malcolm X knew the FBI was following him and tapping his phones. Even he didn't know how deep the FBI had penetrated into his inner-circle.

I won't spoil the documentary for you, but prepare to be shocked.

When most people hear the name Malcolm X, they think only of the phrase, "By Any Means Necessary."

After Spike Lee's movie, Malcolm X, came out in 1992, I bought a black baseball cap with the letter X embroidered on the front. 

A family member asked me why I was wearing the hat representing a violent white person-hater. He grew up watching Archie Bunker too, but instead of taking on the role of son-in-law Mike, the liberal best known as "Meathead," this family member went all-in on living through the racist, bigot Archie.

Even today, 55 years after his death, most people I know would equate Malcolm X with hate and violence

But, they'll never understand the other Malcolm X. They don't want to.

Malcolm X preached mostly to a black audience, but his message extended to most of us.

"If you're not careful, the newspapers will have you hating the people who are being oppressed, and loving the people who are doing the oppressing."

We hear that same quote today, except it's in relation to class warfare.

You've seen the meme:

"A banker, a worker and an immigrant are sitting at a table with 20 cookies. The banker takes 19 cookies and warns the worker, 'Watch out, the immigrant is going to take your cookie away.'"

Those with money and power are convincing the rest of us we are our own worst enemies.

Malcolm X said that.

He also said:

"You're not to be so blind with patriotism that you can't face reality. Wrong is wrong, no matter who does it or says it."

We've heard that quite a bit regarding current events.

This, too, resonates with me:

"I believe in the brotherhood of all men, but I don't believe in wasting brotherhood on anyone who doesn't want to practice it with me. Brotherhood is a two-way street."

I try to be tolerant and kind of all--until they prove they don't deserve that tolerance nor kindness. That's my position with Trump supporters. They support injustice against others, so they won't get empathy or kindness from me.

Remember, Malcolm X was killed in 1965, long before my introduction to people who didn't look like me.

TV shows in the 1970s and 1980s were providing white people with the stereotypes that will last generations.

Multiple studies were conducted and one conclusion was drawn:

"Research findings using college students’ perceptions have consistently shown that negative exposure to African American portrayals in the media significantly influences the evaluations of African Americans in general," (Ford, 1997; Mastro, & Tropp, 2004; Power, Murphy, & Coover, 1996).

Those stereotypes were similar to the ones women dealt with when they were presented in television shows and movies only as the secretary answering phones and drawing coffee for the men in charge.

After reviewing numerous television shows, Seggar and Wheeler (1973) found that African Americans on these programs were generally depicted in service or blue-collar occupations, such as a house cleaner or a postal worker.

This is what I grew up with. It's all I knew until I read The Autobiography of Malcolm X.

That book helped shaped my opinions and who I sought to become.

I'm an activist of sorts, hated by many and appreciated by others. 

"Be peaceful, be courteous, obey the law, respect everyone; but if someone puts his hand on you, send him to the cemetery."

Those are the words of Malcolm X. It's a philosophy I have adopted and live by.

I'll never understand the struggle of African-American men and women but I do my best to be empathetic and understanding.

I stand on my soapbox and I shout down injustice whether it be racism, sexism, homophobia or anything else

We all deserve our freedom. Malcolm X taught me that.