Kelty or Henry: Are Black People on their radar?

In the days leading up to last May's mayoral primary, a prominent Black minister complained that Nelson Peters didn't use any people of color in his campaign materials or on his television commercials. The minister was disappointed when I didn't join in his outrage at Nelson Peters. Blacks were also missing-in-action in Matt Kelty's campaign materials. I'm not mad at him either.

If you recall, now Governor/then candidate Mitch Daniels paraded a shufflin' and grinin' Michael Latham in his political spots. Did that mean that Daniels cared about Black people more than his opponent? The proof is in the policies, and outside of awarding Latham with a cushy job (that allegedly Latham isn't even bothering to perform), can you identify any state government policies that Daniels has championed that are particularly Black-people-friendly?

Black people in this community have far more important issues to address than whether a political candidate hires a few token Blacks or Hispanics to stump for votes in a 30-second commercial. Our biggest concern right now, in 2007, should be the fact that we simply aren't on the political radar as a Black community. We don't speak with anything close to a unified voice. Saddest of all, we fail to realize our potential political strength. From Harrison Square to Renaissance Pointe, hundreds of millions of dollars are going to be spent in this community over the next few years. Are we in a position to benefit from these opportunities? Are we organized and prepared to advocate for ourselves?

If mayoral candidates Matt Kelty (R) and Tom Henry (D) continue to overlook the needs, concerns and contributions of the Black community, we have only ourselves to blame.

Has the Black Church lost its power?

"The Black Church has no power!" exclaimed an audience member at IPFW's recent "The Role of the Church in the Community" panel discussion. The young man complained that despite the presence of more than 50 churches within a one-mile radius of his home, crime, violence and drugs remain unchecked threats in the neighborhood. "The Black Church has no power," he repeated.

The panel, which included pastors Anthony Pettus, Sylvester Hunter, Chrystal Thomas, Angela Shannon, Keion Henderson and Luther Whitfield all bristled at the suggestion that the Black Church has no power.The Black Church DOES still have power, they noted; the power to change lives through Jesus Christ. Several of the pastors also touted the work their congregations were doing in the areas of community and economic development, housing and entrepreneurship.

While the pastors' point about Christ's power is indisputable, and while their various and respective outreach ministries and projects are commendable, the young brother accurately represented the frustrations that simmer in the minds of many Black people when it comes to the subject of today's Black Church.

The real questions is whether our Black Churches still have the power to change society, as they did during the Civil Rights Movement? And if so, do our pastors have the will and the wisdom to do so? The 1968 Freedom School movement, led by pastors like the late Dr. Jesse White and others, was perhaps the last time that most people can remember Fort Wayne's Black Church community truly rallying together with determination and strategy to fight for social justice. Does the local Black Church still have that kind of power and drive?

There is a disconnect between what many Black people expect of today's Black Church and what today's Black Church seems willing to deliver. The reality is that the Black Church is no longer the monolith that we, in part mythically and in part romantically, believe that it was in the Civil Rights struggle of the 1950s and 1960s. Nor are today's pastors the firebrands that we nostalgically remember using the pulpit to loudly and consistently speak out about the social conditions that impede progress for local Blacks.

Times change. Perhaps our expectations should, too.