Rev. Joseph Boyd
When I was thirteen I was in a car accident. I was asked by doctors to recover at home from my injuries, which meant that I couldn’t go to school in person. The school district graciously offered me a private tutor who would come to my house and teach me all the subjects until I was well enough to return. The tutor’s name was Esther, and I don’t remember her last name, because she told me to call her Esther on our first day of meeting. Esther had spent much of her life in the Bay area, and was in Berkeley during the early 1960’s. She heard Malcolm X debate with professors at the University of Berkeley, and she witnessed firsthand not only the power of his rhetoric but the power of his commitment. She asked me during one of our lessons: What can you tell me about Malcolm X? I replied based on my history textbook, it seemed that Malcolm X was angry and hated white people, but that he looked really cool. That was my 13 year old understanding.  She then said something which the actor Ozzie Davis said during his eulogy of Malcolm X: Well, then, you don’t really know him. I talked with my father who was white: What did he know about Malcolm X? He surprised me with a clear and nuanced answer. He said Malcolm X was clearly a person of faith and commitment. He came to his feelings about white people honestly. And then he told me something which I had heard repeated many times throughout the years: my father said toward the end of his life he was fairly close to Martin Luther King Jr. Esther asked me to read The Autobiography of Malcolm X by Alex Haley, and in this great book I began to get a fuller picture of who Malcom X was as a man.

Malcolm witnessed his father being killed by white supremacists in Illinois, a northern state where he grew up. Malcolm witnessed his mother have a mental breakdown, need to be hospitalized, and given inadequate care. Malcolm was born and raised in the North unlike Martin Luther King Jr. who was born and raised in the South.  Malcolm witnessed up close the shallow integration in the North and rampant disparity based on race. He saw a black community that was constantly in debt to white landowners, white owned banks, white owned businesses. In Detroit he turned to a life of crime, and without realizing it adopted the values of the culture that surrounded him: making as much money as possible and seeming white. He straightened his hair so it looked less African, and he hustled – gambling and stealing cars in order to dress and surround himself with the signs of American success. He inevitably was incarcerated, and spent time in prison, which is where he met Elijah Muhammed, the leader of a Black Nationalist Muslim group called the Nation of Islam. They taught self-respect as a black person, knowledge of your own history, and they called for a separate state where black people could live independently and have their own economy. It was the first time that Malcolm, who was then known as Malcolm Little, came to know how much of his life had been shaped by whiteness.  Even his name Little, he came to realize was the name of the slave owner who owned his family members. And in gaining this self -knowledge craved another alternative. So he changed his name to Malcolm X and converted to Islam. He quit drinking, quit doing drugs, quit eating pork. He prayed five times a day, and began to show up in a suit and tie. It became clear in a very short time that Malcolm was incredibly intelligent, and a great orator. He knew how to work a crowd, and what made his speeches unique is that he spoke completely to black people as human beings, without concerning himself without having to appease a white audience.

One thing that I think is greatly misunderstood about Malcolm is what he meant by white. Even today many falsely believe based on poorly written history books that Malcolm hated white people. This is not true. Malcolm hated whiteness, and what that term white has come to mean in the United States. In this country white means entitlement and oppression of other people. That’s what the term white has come to mean in this country as it is written in our laws and institutions. When you have a document (the Constitution) that says that white men are property owners who have to right to pursue happiness and then in that same document you say black people are 3/5 of a person, you are no longer simply talking about different hues of color. Malcolm didn’t hate anyone based on the color of their skin. He hated whiteness, which in this country has come to mean entitlement, the right to benefit at the expense of others. When anyone sees this important shift, they can begin to get a fuller picture of Malcolm X; someone who fiercely loved black people and taught them to love themselves in the face of violence and exploitation.

Though we are beginning to wake up now as a people, I don’t think we have yet to take in the full depth of this truth. We have yet to see as fully as we can how everyday life is a form of violence on people who lack that entitlement. In this context, and this understanding, it makes sense to say you have a right to defend your personhood from violence – any kind of violence – physical, psychological, spiritual violence.  Not only do you have a right to defend yourself, but you should defend yourself. And Malcolm X offered the greatest defense imaginable: self-love, self-respect. Know who you are and grow to not only accept yourself, but love yourself. Love where you came from. Love your body. Love your spirit, and uplift your community.

Malcolm was never charged with any kind of violence toward anyone, but he did use a psychological awareness to put a nation on edge. In many interviews he talked about a guilt complex that comes with whiteness, that knew if the tables were turned and you had to endure what other people have endured, you would likely seek violent retribution. But Malcolm never encouraged retribution, and he never hurt anyone. But he did use his position as the scariest black man in America to pass Civil Rights legislation. He would say things like: You better meet Martin Luther King Jr’s demands, or else. But he would never say what that else was.

When I lived in and near Harlem, I gained an even deeper understanding and respect for Malcolm X. I met people who knew Malcolm, I went to what was known as Mosque No. 7 in East Harlem where he often spoke, and when I asked people there about Malcolm, their responses were very similar. They said every time they were in Malcom’s presence they walked away with their heads held higher, they loved themselves more, and they saw the beauty of their community. According to my definition, that’s a great minister. Teaching and encouraging people to love themselves and appreciate their life is everything, in my opinion. Out of that love comes a thirst for justice, and a commitment to dismantling any system that remains committed to making the people you love feel lesser. When I studied with Dr. James Cone, who wrote a great book called Malcolm and Martin, he told me two things which deepened my appreciation of Malcolm. He told me, and I believe wrote in his book, that Martin Luther King Jr helped him to be a Christian and Malcolm helped him to be black. Another thing he said which was unique was that Martin Luther King Jr. was a political revolutionary and Malcolm X was a cultural revolutionary. Dr. King was critical in changing laws and how politics were engaged through direct action, and Malcolm changed the way people thought and felt about life. He offered alternative ways of seeing the world and your place in it. I would add that Jesus was also a cultural revolutionary, someone who through presence and commitment transformed the way people saw themselves.

Malcolm X’s legacy is huge and I don’t think can be adequately quantified. The Black Lives Matter movement is a direct legacy of Malcolm X: a secular, nonreligious commitment to loving black people, and honoring life. But I think his legacy goes much further than that. There are two parts that stand out to me. One is the commitment to an alternative source of pride and vision, rather than trying to find validation in a system that continually oppresses you and keeps you down.

I have thought of this in relation to Youngstown, but really any community that is made up of minorities and struggles with the ills of poverty. Instead of looking toward what the culture has taught you to love: making money at all costs, modeling yourself off of whiteness, which is entitlement, and seeking your self-worth in these kind of cruel systems that have hurt and continue to hurt you, find love in who you are, recognize the beauty of your community, and recognize you have the power to self-determinism, which is the ability to chart your destiny. Find different economic models and different ways of relating that are based on self-love rather than on seeking validation in violent systems. I think this applies to anyone regardless of the color of their skin. I think this is one of the most important truths. When you can learn through the help of community to love yourself as you are, you will make radically different choices. When you let go of trying to prove yourself according to someone else’s yardstick, the world is open to you, and you discover freedom.

 In one of my favorite exchanges in an interview with Malcolm X, the interviewer asks him if he seeks to be equal with white people in this country, and I love his answer to that question. Malcolm responds: “White people are not the yardstick of equality, so no; I don’t want to be equal with them. Equality means I have the power to live my life to its potential in every way.” I think in this culture, regardless of race, we have yet to fully discover this alternative yardstick that is not based on whiteness, not based on capitalism, not based male or straight sexual preference. Even if we don’t completely fit this model, I think too much of our energy and aspiration is spent trying to find success according to a yardstick that is damaging to us. There is an alternative: self-love, self-respect, and then seeing what comes out of that new awareness.

Second, I think Malcolm X was way ahead of his time in realizing that the problem is not civil rights but human rights, and that this requires a global response if we are to see real change. We are witnessing this during this last year, an increasing awareness of a needed global response beyond our borders as the United States. We see black and brown people continue to suffer in this country and across the globe: in India, in Palestine, in Youngstown. Paying attention to these situations very closely with the desire to alleviate suffering is part of the legacy of Malcolm X. Hating what is oppressive and violent toward people who are born into a certain ethnicity or skin tone is part of the legacy of Malcolm X. Hating what is exploitative is not hate, that is love. Loving who you are, loving where you live, loving all that brought you to this moment: that is part of the legacy of Malcolm X. Reaching across boundaries to different religions, different nations, different languages to encourage human rights and dignity: it sounds like Unitarian Universalism should be honoring Malcolm X. Finding a new yardstick to base your self-worth, a yardstick based on respect and love for who you actually are: I know of no greater teaching.