Blacks and Jews. Ya'll Know Betta

One of the most misunderstood relationships is that between Blacks and Jews.

My solution to decades of tension is the best means of sharing our common history in America?

Comic books.

Contrary to stereotypical belief, not all Jews are rich, or diabolical. Like Black folk (and yes, even some whites, true believers) there were creative Jews who were exploited for their talent by, alas, their own. Let’s just be honest: the human condition boasts many tales of exploitation, and who better to exploit you than someone with whom you have much in common? Be real. Whom else would you trust to be exploited by to such a degree?

I digress. My interest in my Semitic brothers, alas, is about their past. Here in America. Land of the free. Home of the comic book.

I could care less about the movie industry or much else. The comic book, however, is such an American art form that it begs discussion. The American superhero is a unique phenom, as superheroes were not gods (though Marvel did some public domain stamping there and made mad loot from it) but usually everyday folk blessed with extraordinary gifts. Their mission: find the bad guys and stop them. Bad was pretty universal then. No ambiguity. You rob people? Bad. You a mass murderer? Bad. You push dope? Bad. Bad guys were not good guys who made unwise decisions. Bad guys were…bad. You were bad regardless of race or religion. Being bad meant you had to go. Often painfully.

American Jews brought us the comic book much the way that American blacks brought us modern popular music. In many cases, these were lower East side folk who were raised in the ghettoes and when their talent brought them out, they were taken advantage of by folk who saw them as commodities. Jewish gangsters probably ran some of their ill-gotten loot through those early comic companies, exploiting their brethren like the early race record companies did Black artists. These artists saw their works stolen, their finances dwindle, and many died in obscurity after providing us with heroes that grace page and screen even today.

A history of the Jew in Manhattan’s lower east side tenements reads so much like a history of the Black in urban projects. Even the neighborhood term is the same: ghetto. These are tales of folk who used creative talents to escape pretty lousy living conditions, surrounded by crime, poverty and indifference. Persecuted because of their difference and honestly, in so many instances, their own worst enemies.

Why are we having so many problems?

This is what I suggest to leaders in the Black and Jewish communities. Have a weekday afternoon sit-down. Play some jazz & soul music, order some corned beef sandwiches, and say nothing to each other until you have finished with at least 75 successive issues of the comic of your choice and soaked yourselves in the best Miles Davis had to offer. Then let’s start to hammer out how our shared experiences ought to be bringing us together. We elected a president together. That proves we are capable of doing anything.