On a book by Tommy J. Curry
On a book by Dr.
Tommy J. Curry
When errors thrive dangerously in the wilderness of
discourses, it is judicious to issue a writ
of coram nobis. In his timely book The Man-Not: Race, Class, Genre,
and the Dilemmas of Black Manhood (Philadelphia: Temple University Press,
2017), Dr. Tommy J. Curry, Professor of Philosophy and Africana Studies at
Texas A & M University, issues such a writ and makes a sterling
contribution to intellectual history.
One can't praise the excellence of his anatomy of dilemmas, however,
without noting the bane of academic writing.
For a writer to be deemed serious, worthy of attention, in academic
territory, she or he must use jargon, the very language of the tribe that
itself nurtures error. Curry is not culpable, and is, to be sure, not
complicit. He is quite aware of what might be called the
rhetorical traps of the Academy and of publishing. A small number of scholars have published
scathing critiques of those traps, but their criticisms have yet to be digested
by their colleagues who hold fast to conservative definitions and standards of excellence and by publishers who
insist that civilization will be annihilated if the standards aren't preserved.
Curry provides an essential insight about the situation that
metaphorically incarcerates his project in the concluding chapter:
"Black males are not thought of as sociological
beings that have existential relevance for theory. Because theory is the abstraction from the
empirical --- the attempt to establish the idea as causally related to actual
phenomena --- there is the risk that theory will remain
disconnected from the world and from the relations the selves in that world
share. Sometimes the idea becomes
self-justifying and thought of as determining the phenomena from which it was initially derived. This is the problem with Black
masculinity. It is an idea that obscures
how Black males actually live and die in the world" (199).
The situation is systemic, and it is not a matter of
historical accident. It is a matter of
Western intention, malice, and denial.
It is an act of courage for Curry to have written The Man-Not by using the tools of the system to demystify and
deconstruct the system. Nevertheless, in
the chaos of actuality and cognition, systems do not die; they merely change
their costumes. There is no exit from
existential absurdity, despite belief (usually religious) that a better world
will arrive in time.
Curry's research is impeccable but not immune to
criticism from those who count how many demons dance on the head of a pin, who
are determined to find methodological flaws in the exposition of his argument,
or who experience fear and trembling when a writer forces them to dive into a
truth. Curry enlightens us well in his
chapters on historiography; sexual victimization of the Black male; the
political economy of misandry, class warfare, and disciplinary propagation of
mythology; eschatological dilemmas; the delusion of hope and the necessity of
coming to grips with what is anti-ethical.
And the epilogues, he is
appropriately forthright about his intentions : "This book not only
endeavors to think differently about Black men and boys; it endeavors to
establish a genuine theoretical orientation to their study and, thus, to escape
--- to reach beyond ---the thinking and thinker of this time" (233). His fulfillment of his intentions is
commendable.
The Man-Not is
a theoretical orientation that ought to be transported into praxis, an effort
that would empower parents (who harbor no academic pretentions and who try to
be pragmatic) to share his ideas as terms of engagement with their daughters
and sons, to use his ideas as weapons.
That is a dream too long deferred.
Nevertheless, critics and teachers who have a genuine investment in
social justice and human rights activism should dare to "translate"
many of Curry's ideas into accessible forms (genres) needed in the pedagogy of
the oppressed. Such "translation" would be the highest tribute one
might accord to the legacies of Langston Hughes, Mary McLeod Bethune, Fannie
Lou Hamer, and W. E. B. DuBois. Jerry W. Ward, Jr. December 9, 2018
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