Millions More Movement

Roughly ten years ago I participated in the largest demonstration of black men in america's history. These are my thoughts between then and now.
I was leaving an organizing meeting with a friend. Since we had known of the march for months we had time to petition our college for buses and publicize the event on our campus. As we walked home we were set upon by street thugs. They flashed their guns and demanded the cash. What drives black men to treat each other this way? Why did these men threaten our lives for the money we had in our pockets?
Negative experiences of black men, women and families was a compelling, overarching reason for our support of this march. What man among us had not felt the role of sex and race in unpredictable ways in our daily lives. The sting of bigotry, the injustice of being prevented from consideration.
I did not travel with my college classmates to the march. I caught a greyhound bus 35 miles north and met two friends from high school. I recall we left in the small hours of the morning after one of my friends' girlfriend had cooked us dinner. I hadn't known that it had been requested that women make their men a meal before they left; as the men would be required to fast until sunset during the day of atonement.
Conversation was sparse and tense. A mystical leader known to speak of a "great fiery wheel" that foiled American interests throughout the world was the primary face of the movement. He was organizing (along with thousands of others) a Million Man March to be held in the District of Columbia. The gathering was exclusively for black men. No others need come. It was also on a monday. If that didn't show the organizers were serious what would?
The memory of my most recent encounter with black men I didn't know still fresh on my mind I beleived that there was a chance things could go badly. Conspiracy theories abounded. No one will come. The air will be poisoned, there will be riots and mass arrests. The federal government had declared holiday. Even the president left town.
My parents were at best skeptical. They ,like many older black folk, thought it a bad idea. Perhaps they still had memories of Bull Connor fresh on their mind.
The moon was full and unusually bright as we traveled. We arrived early and slept in the car on some downtown DC street. Around six o'clock we awoke and made our way over to the mall. There were already some people there but it was far from a million. That changed in time. Soon we were part of a ocean of black men. All of us laughing, crying, talking, praying, shouting, smoking, rapping, dancing, watching and listening. Maya Angelou spoke and her words said what we feeled. Deep was how she described it. Stevie Wonder told us he could see us all around him. Cries of "Cube" eruptered when the jumbotron showed the rappers face. Jesse Jackson told us to beware the change in law concerning crack cocaine. A man whose name I forget told us of the worlwide plan to dominate us. Farrakhan spoke of the number 19 and the building of the Washington monument. We waved our money for the cameras and then it was over. No violence, no hatred, no doom or gloom.
When we returned home there were tears in the eyes of our family and friends. A number of people said that if we did it again we would get two million. Many a man nursed the regret of not having gone. They should. It was a beautiful experience. I still get a shiver done my spine when I think about it. Such peace.
Ten years later it is time for Millions More. I have lost touch with the gentleman who was robbed with me and one of my traveling companions. The other friend is well. When I saw him last we didn't mention this new march.
This time we are told there will be follow through. I think when you compare black america then and now some things have changed but others (like the black prision population) stay the same or even have grown worse.
Now we need policy. We need effective ideas. We must communicate to and educate ourselves. That means more black media.
I am sure this weeks participants will experience a spiritual catharsis but I will not be among them.