We have about 336 million people in this country today. Of those, 18.5 million are veterans. That’s about 5.5 percent of the population. Of the 47 million people who identify as Black, 2.2 million are veterans. That’s about 4.7 percent of the Black population. What this illustrates, to me, is there is somewhat of a disconnection regarding a culture of patriotism in our community. Black military service has been about our investment in the hope of a better future for this nation. Black military service – part of what I describe as the Black Patriotic Tradition – has historically been our pathway to citizenship, our direct battle for racial equality, and even our key to unlocking access to the middle class. Military service, generally, meant access to training, education, and a life perspective that transcended where we individually grew up.
Military service is not the only expression of patriotism by any means. For the sake of this conversation, patriotism is defined as:
1) Special affection for one’s own country
2) A sense of personal identification with the country
3) Special concern for the well-being of the country
4) Willingness to sacrifice to promote the country’s good
5) A special concern for the well-being of your fellow citizens
Affection for this country is not blind love for this country. It’s not love it or leave it. It is, however, every generation striving for better. You may not have had a conversation about patriotism. Most people haven’t, which is why I have taken the time to dedicate my scholarship to analyzing American patriotism. You see, most people running around talking about patriotism don’t really know what patriotism is. As many of you know, I am a veteran. I am a Black man. I consider myself a patriot not just because I have served my country – something for which I am proud – but because my mindset includes understanding that sacrificing time today is my investment in tomorrow. For the sake of this conversation, I consider voting a patriotic duty.
2024 is an inflection point in the course of this country. It will be shaped by a large number of new voters – voters who didn’t vote in the previous election in 2020 because they were too young. I have listened as many young Black men have said they were leaning towards voting for Trump. They feel disillusioned by President Biden and a Democratic Party that, they feel, has taken them for granted. One declared he was trying to build “multi-generational wealth” because he is a business owner. I understand this. I get that many young people have looked at the generations before them and feel disenchanted with the mess these generations have left them. But wealth is more than money. Wealth is also investing in the future of your family, your community, and your country.
Voting is your baseline patriotic duty. It is the least you can do and it takes more than voting to be a patriotic citizen in this country. But let’s be clear here: voting also takes an investment in time studying, reflecting, and engaging with others. For Black Americans this is especially true because on the shoulders of these young Black voters rests the legacy of service and sacrifice to this country many have performed so that future generations have their shot a racial equality and equal citizenship. We have not gotten there yet, but our chance to keep the arc of justice bending towards truth is to make informed, conscientious decisions today so that there is a tomorrow – a tomorrow that includes Black citizens, Black leaders, and Black patriots.
Why afrofuturism and patriotism? Let’s take a look back first. The year was 1984, the year I graduated from high school and joined the Navy; and most importantly, it was the first year I was eligible to vote. I grew up in Gary, Indiana, a city with deep Democratic roots. Gary was hazy and filled with the smells of industry because the US Steel plant was located there, at the base of Lake Michigan. Most everyone in Gary had a family member who worked at the steel mill or at one of the ancillary industries located in the area. My father worked at the Budd Company, which pressed car parts using the steel manufactured at US Steel’s Gary Works. Back then Gary was still a bustling little city. I remember walking with my mother on Broadway, where stores like JCPenney and Sears still had large, stand-alone buildings. Buses, cars, and taxis filled the streets, and the sidewalk was crowded with shoppers.
Gary was a 20th century phenomenon – a city built for a manufacturing-based economy. In the mid-1970s, the steel industry in the US was confronted with global competition that drove down the price of steel. This led to many workers being laid off and, more drastically, the economic base of Gary crumbling. By the time I graduated from high school, many of my parents’ generation had lost their jobs and some had lost their homes because of the downturn. For most of them, they had believed that the steel mill and the other industries offered guaranteed jobs after graduating high school or returning from military service. But change had come. My generation was the first generation in that area to be faced with a stark choice: join the military, go to college, or face limited economic opportunity.
1984 was the year President Ronald Reagan was running for re-election. The economy had taken an upswing and the 1980’s were about to change from the economic doldrums of the previous years, especially the years under President Jimmy Carter. So, watching what the generations ahead of me went through, I decided that I would vote Republican. I voted for Ronald Wilson Reagan. Yes, my father, the proud, blue-collared, union card-carrying veteran was apoplectic. This choice had a significant impact on my perceptions. President Reagan was an unabashed Cold War hawk. He wanted to build the US military. He promoted prosperity. The Democrats had lost the battle, I felt, because my city had died. Vote Republican, right? It seemed to me, a first-time voter, that the President was on to something. The Democratic message was drowned out by what I had witnessed in Gary and by what the hard-sell of supply-side (trickle-down) economics. So, to my father’s chagrin, I voted Republican – I voted for Ronald Reagan.
Regarding the Trump-leaning young brothers. I get it. I had become the Alex P. Keaton of my family (look it up). It was hip to “think outside the box” and embrace a “new” political perspective. Serving my country. Bootstrapping. Meritocracy. Supply-side economics. But here is what I also learned: As a Black American, my vote is sacred. When we cast a vote, we are casting it not only as an investment into our future but also with consideration of our ancestors upon whose shoulders we now stand. This is to say, that your vote is more than about supposed wealth building and the promise of a stable economy.
Let’s be clear: POTUS does not control the economy; he or she, and our economy, is subject to the Federal Reserve. A vote for Donald John Trump is a vote for the end of Afrofuturism. We have the evidence: 1) the “anti-woke” campaign against all things CRT and DEI; 2) the anti-abortion mania that will limit adequate healthcare for Black and Brown women; and, 3) the normalization of xenophobia represented by anti-semitic, anti-Black, and anti-Asian rhetoric. Ask yourself: Do you think you will be immune?
No party should take any voters for granted. This is true. And, there are serious conversations to be had (and action to be taken) regarding the white and Black wealth gap, access to education and healthcare, and quality of life for Black people in this country. Our community still has a long way to go, but we will absolutely not get to our future if we don’t make informed choices today. A vote for President Biden is a frustration for many of us. A vote for Donald Trump is a vote against your long-term interests if you believe in afrofuturism. Your patriotic duty – your opportunity to truly serve your family, your community, and your country – is to spend the time and effort to sacrifice today for a better tomorrow.