Out of Touch at the Black Caucus

I attended a Congressional Black Caucus (CBC) Legislative Weekend for the first time in September, when it was held at Washington's ritzy Hilton Hotel. It was easy to get a rush from all the excitement. Where else can you see the likes of Nation of Islam Minister Louis Farrakhan, Bishop George Stallings Jr., ABC World News Saturday anchor Carole Simpson, jazz singer Nancy Wilson, Washington, DC First Lady Effie Barry, Jesse Jackson, Doug Wilder, Al Sharpton, assorted congresspersons, mayors, state senators, business executives, clergy, members of the media, and assorted other real and "wanna be" black power brokers and protest elites?

This weekend was particularly special as it was the 20th anniversary of the Congressional Black Caucus. The theme was "Memories of the Past -- Visions of the Future." Nearly 20,000 people cruised through a seemingly endless number of workshops on just about everything affecting black folks in every aspect of our lives. From black male-female relationships to telecommunications to criminal justice to education to pension funds to harassment of black leaders, the workshops were interesting, informative, and a bit like a Sunday morning revival.

So why do I feel so bad about it?

The 20th annual Congressional Black Caucus Legislative Weekend was a collective primal scream for black folks. We give eloquent, passionate, and lengthy talks about what ails us. We express ourselves.

But when the rhetoric clears, are we any more intellectually challenged? Do we have a viable agenda, or at least a credible framework of an agenda, to follow through on once we return to our neighborhoods, schools, churches, and city councils? Or did we simply all agree with each other on the deplorable state of black affairs in America?

The CBC was founded in 1971 by 13 black members of the U.S. House of Representatives "to promote the public welfare through legislation designed to meet the needs of millions of neglected citizens." Clearly, the CBC has come a long way since then. There are currently 24 black members of Congress representing 11 states and the District of Columbia. Blacks chair four full committees -- Education and Labor, Government Operations, District of Columbia, and Ethics -- as well as 18 subcommittees and one select committee, Narcotics Abuse. And for the first time in congressional history, a black, Rep. Bill Gray (D-Pa.), serves as the House Majority Whip.

The past achievements of the CBC are notable. It can take credit for passage of the District of Columbia Home Rule Act (1975), the Humphrey-Hawkins Full Employment and Balanced Growth Act (1977), passage of an amendment to extend the 1965 Voting Rights Act (1981), passage of the legislation designating Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday as a national holiday (1983), and passage of the sweeping South Africa sanctions bill (1986). The CBC's Constructive Alternative Budget, first introduced in 1981, has been lauded by both blacks and whites.

With few exceptions, however, no new ideas about the future of black America in the next decade and century were offered during the CBC weekend. It seems that the collective influence and strength of the black political class has weakened as a real presence in the daily lives of the majority of blacks. It also seems that institutional development outside of the political process is imperative if for no other reason than intellectual creativity and political accountability.

The development of spiritual, intellectual, and economic leadership in black America -- leadership that is rooted in churches, schools, and co-ops in neighborhoods and communities, not on Capitol Hill -- is far more able to play a proactive role in the affairs of black folk and the nation. Black elected officials are bound by conflicting interests -- a by-product of joining the establishment -- that severely limit their ability to speak with an effective voice on issues relevant to black people. At best, the CBC can only react to the changing times.

MY FIRST TRIP TO THE 20th annual legislative weekend also revealed the depth of spiritual and moral decay in the black middle class. That conviction set in as I strolled through the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation exhibition. Let's be clear. The CBC Legislative Weekend is not a poor black person's event. It is a middle- and upper-class show. We have become a consumer culture. Buy, buy, buy.

But what gets me is that many of the exhibits were owned and operated by white corporations. Whites made a lot of money off black folks during the legislative weekend. So much for black economic nationalism.

Huge exhibits from Phillip Morris and Coors offered free booze, cigarettes, T-shirts, and other goodies. How is it that while black activists are waging a billboard war against the tobacco and alcohol industries' racist marketing techniques in poor communities, the CBC is taking their money and allowing them prominent space in its exhibits?

Even the keynote speech by CBC Chair Ron Dellums (D-Calif.) -- the main event laying out a vision for the future -- cost money. Dinner tables were available for $5,000 to $10,000 in the main ballroom. For those less affluent, a table could be bought for $150 and the proceedings viewed on closed-circuit television in a different room.

The only people who heard the speech were the middle- and upper-class folks. The majority of poor blacks, I guarantee you, did not even know the CBC weekend was taking place.

Anthony A. Parker was assistant editor of Sojourners when this article appeared.