The nation’s bicentennial— 1976– was a defining year for the country and for Milwaukee.
In March, my oldest son was born. Several months later, I committed to a lifelong residency in the Fourth Estate (the press, the Black press to be more precise). And in September, the first edition of the Milwaukee Community Journal hit the streets.
That publication would be followed by nearly 2,446 consecutive editions, including the one you are holding.
Our newspaper’s genesis was overshadowed by the top stories, including Hank Aaron’s record-setting home run, Jimmy Carter’s capturing the Black vote as he marched to the White House, and the nation’s 200th anniversary.
That year also saw the ‘Black Pride, Power and Patience explosion.’ Afros and dashikis were in vogue, and President Gerald Ford officially recognized Black History Month.
Even though gasoline was 53 cents a gallon, it wasn’t necessary to drive around the city as reckless driving was almost nonexistent.
That year saw what was at the time an alarming homicide rate, which was approximately 25% of what we witnessed last year, even though the city population was nearly 200,000 more.
Despite an African American population approximately half its current size, Milwaukee hosted two Black-owned radio stations, an African-American bank and savings and loan, and a major Black grocery chain.
Two Black-owned and operated private schools, Harambee and Urban Day, were cited as examples of Black excellence and, a few years later, sparked the school choice movement.
As strange as it seems today, most corner grocery stores were owned by Black Milwaukeeans; we used one of several Black-owned gas stations and a car dealership and read two African American newspapers.
A decade earlier, we marched for open housing to end racist covenants, a victory that led to homeownership outside of ‘Blackfish Bay.’
Between that time and the publication of the first Community Journal, we witnessed hope that the affirmative action executive order of disgraced President Richard Nixon would open the doors to economic and educational opportunities.
In the mid-1970s, the median family (nuclear) income was the seventh highest in the nation for African Americans.
Despite segregation and separation, homeownership was an obtainable goal, and the trades were finally opening up to a generation of Black youth who had previously faced racial barriers to inclusion.
The Black poverty rate was among the lowest in the country—essentially half of its current nation-leading rate–and 43% of Black married women were considered ‘homemakers.’
In fact, data shows nearly 70% of Black households were headed by a married couple, versus less than 30% today.
The 1970s also saw the emergence of lawsuits against the city fire and police departments and resulting affirmative action programs that were effective, almost exclusively, because of race-based quotas (teeth that Democratic President Bill Clinton later removed, effectively killing affirmative action).
The mid-1970s also saw our transition from Negro to Black within a few years, from Afro to African-American. One of my early columns was headlined, ‘Integration through hyphenation,’ questioning how and why the White media insisted on adding the hyphen between Afro and American and referring to us as ‘black(s)’ (lowercase).
In 1976, we couldn’t envision (or most of us couldn’t) paying for water and air, an African American president, the internet, cable television, or electric vehicles.
Old School music was current-school R&B, and Hip Hop was in its infancy.
When discussing rap, our references included the Last Poets and Gil Scott Heron, who declared ‘The Revolution Would Not Be Televised’–which it wasn’t.
Indeed, most central city streets were clean, rental properties were maintained by the renters, and most properties had nice lawns.
In retrospect, 1976 marked the beginning of a cultural/economic/educational transition for Black Milwaukee.
The decade saw one of the nation’s most severely declining economic bases, as 77 factories ‘closed shop’ or relocated, taking with them scores of the Black middle class, many of whom had migrated to Milwaukee from the deep south for family-supporting jobs, better educational opportunities and safe and clean streets.
The year this publication was introduced, the local Black poverty rate was among the lowest in the country—essentially half of the current nation-leading rate–with 43% of Black married women being considered ‘homemakers.’
Our socioeconomic took a sharp ‘left’ turn during the 1970s.
Welfare policies escalated the destruction of the Black nuclear family paradigm, straining social services and creating a permanent underclass.
Homeownership pummeled, and the Black middle class ‘escaped’ to outlining areas or to the suburbs, albeit not in numbers to erase Milwaukee’s status as the most segregated city in the country,
Without a doubt, the most defining issue—with the most long-lasting ramifications—of 1976 was the desegregation of the Milwaukee Public Schools.
Indeed, the first edition of the MCJ focused on educational apartheid in Milwaukee and the misguided belief that school ‘desegregation’ (erroneously sold as ‘integration’) would be a cure-all for most of our social and economic ills.
We dismissed that assumption, in whole and part, because Federal Judge John Reynolds allowed a ‘desegregation program’ that was not only discriminatory but did not improve the quality of education.
We made that damning assumption because the ‘desegregation’ program was more about the movement of bodies’ than social miscegenation.
As we would prophesize, the school desegregation process turned out to be a hoax, putting the burden for busing on the shoulders of the victims of educational apartheid in what became an economic scheme that benefitted the educracy but not those for whom it was created.
It was a complex conspiracy that ultimately prompted the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights to acknowledge the Community Journal’s posit that the desegregation template, as conceived, would not produce the long-sought-after goal of an equal education paradigm.
The fact that MPS is more segregated today than 47 years ago and academic achievement has plummeted is a story.
In some areas, we have seen tremendous advancement in Milwaukee since 1976.
Today, African Americans hold the top government positions in the county, city, sheriff, and police departments. The county board chair is a Black female, and there are two-and-half-times the number of Black state lawmakers.
The Black middle class has increased over the past half-century, and you can find a ‘hue-man- face on almost every major corporate board.
Milwaukee is today a ‘Chocolate City,’ with Black residents representing the largest ethnicity in the city, a template that is being followed by neighboring Brown Deer, where African Americans dominate local politics and home ownership is twice the rate of ‘Brewtown.’
Unfortunately, the painful decline of the city following the 1970s has obscured many of those successes.
We’ve gone from two Black-owned banks to zero, the Black grocery chain no longer exists, and we have one of the worse poverty rates in the country.
No Black-owned car dealership, four-star restaurants, entertainment complex, or cultural facility.
An echo of former Milwaukee Bucks’ great Kareem Abdul Jabbar’s declaration that Milwaukee is a cultural desert for Black folks continues to reverberate.
There is reason for hope, however. We are positioned to create a new cultural mecca with new housing development in several neighborhoods, a new generation of Black leadership, and a promised redirection of investment dollars from downtown to the central city.
We will be better positioned to assess Black progress in three years when your MCJ celebrates its 50th anniversary. The fact that half of the core members of the Community Journal are still among us to empower, educate, and entertain a new generation of tribal members is a testament not only to Black survival instincts but also to the template of sustainability and resiliency that epitomizes our ability to overcome all obstacles—and emerge standing tall.
Hotep.
Leave a Reply