Some Were Paupers, Some Were Kings: Dispatches from Kansas

Some Were Paupers, Some Were Kings:

Dispatches from Kansas

Some Were Paupers,

Some Were Kings:

Dispatches from Kansas

Mark E. McCormick

WICHITA

Some Were Paupers, Some Were Kings: Dispatches from Kansas

Copyright © 2017 by Mark E. McCormick. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Inquiries should be addressed to:

Blue Cedar Press

PO Box 48715

Wichita, KS 67201

Special Wichita State University edition 2020

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

ISBN: 978-1-7342272-0-8

Cover photo by Keisha Ezerendu. Author photo by Diane Criner.

Composition by Caron Andregg, Sea Cliff Media Marketing. Editor, Laura Tillem.

Columns are used with permission of The Wichita Eagle and Whether You Like Ice-T or Not, It Happens by permission of The Louisville Courier-Journal. There for Us and Ali: Speaking to a Loss Shared by Many used by permission of the Kansas Leadership Center’s The Journal.

* Indicates an award-winning column.

Printed in the United States of America at BookMobile, in Minneapolis, MN.

Dear Shocker,

Welcome to the Wichita State University community of learners! This book is an important part of your academic experience as a new student at WSU. Our core values include integrity, transparency, personal responsibility, collaboration and access and equity. Each year a book is selected that highlights one or more of these values. The books selected are meant as a starting point for critical thinking and discussion that will continue throughout your first year.

The WSU Common Read program aims to give all incoming Shockers a common academic experience regardless of major or academic field. During the next year, you will be exposed to the concepts and ideas of this book both in and out of the classroom. Many of our faculty have adopted this book as a text for class, and many events planned throughout the year will incorporate Mark McCormick’s ideas on local citizenship and community advocacy. We invite you to join the conversation and share your thoughts and experiences with your peers.

While this book is only a starting point, we hope that during your time at WSU, you will develop an appreciation for diverse viewpoints through your discussions about the book’s themes. One particular event we’d like to encourage all students to attend is Academic Convocation where the author of this book will be giving the keynote address. Throughout the year we hope you cultivate relationships with faculty, staff, and students all over Shocker Nation as you engage with WSU Common Read events.

I wish you the very best in the coming year!

Sincerely,

Richard D. Muma, PhD, MPH

Provost and Professor

A Note on the Title

The title, Some Were Paupers, Some Were Kings emerged from Hank Williams’

1951 Country and Western standard, Men With Broken Hearts.

My father recited those lines to me once as we passed homeless men sleeping on a downtown Los Angeles sidewalk when I was a child: Some were paupers, some were kings, some were masters of their arts, but in all their shame, they were all the same, those men with broken hearts.

Blue Cedar Press editors saw parallels in those lyrics and in my columns—an attempt to strike a universal chord with each new reporting and writing foray.

You’ll have to decide if I achieved such a noble objective, but that was certainly my ambition.

Dedication

I’m grateful to the incredible Blue Cedar Press Board for finding something worthy enough in my journalism work to warrant a book project. Thank you, Laura Tillem, for your editing and thank you Dr. Gretchen Eick, the Rev. Michael Poage, Dr. Crystal Coles and Abril Marshall for your work in assembling this book.

In addition to my family for whom my love knows no bounds, I’d like to dedi- cate this book to the following:

To my mother, Ethel Mae McCormick, for her selfless love and work ethic and to my father, Joseph Langston McCormick, Jr. for his storytelling, poems and relent- less pride in our family and in me; my sister, Chandra Lynn McCormick who was the first journalist I ever knew and my professional inspiration; my brother, Joseph Langston McCormick, IV, who inherited our dad’s charisma but blazed his own remarkable trail on sheer will and intellect; Don Holloway, our family patriarch, and Mary Elizabeth McConico Davis who adopted me in April of 2011 when life left me orphaned.

I’d also like to thank Alice Lewis, my Hadley Junior High School English teacher who was the first person to tell me that I could write; David Reeves, my Hadley Civics teacher who took me to Washington, D.C. for the first time; Gaye Coburn and Tommie Williams at North High School, who respectively nurtured my love for journalism and found me the scholarship money to attend college; Daddy Sam Adams and Mama Susanne Shaw at the University of Kansas (KU) School of Journalism for their loving guidance; Wichita activist Shukura Sentwali, who introduced me to Pan African thought and theory; my Louisville Courier-Journal family who looked out for me at work and remembered me on holidays in my first permanent job away from home, including M. David Goodwin, Larry Muhammad, Veda Morgan, Fran Jefferies, Cynthia Wilson, Fletcher and Penny Clarke and Sam Upshaw; the Rev. Dr. Kevin W. Cosby at St. Stephen Baptist Church who helped me merge my spiritual and cultural selves and stopped to pray over me at the hospital on his way to defend his doctoral dissertation; my Wichita Eagle family includ- ing Joe Rodriguez whose humor made work days fun and short and Dion Lefler whose stories of Pasadena made work days fun and long (smile); Tom Koetting who helped me find a writing voice and Marcia Werts and Kevin McGrath who picked up where Koetting left off; Tom Shine who taught me the importance of humor and

composure as a manager, then-Managing Editor Janet Coats who hired me away from the Courier-Journal and gave me opportunities to grow professionally, then- Editor Rick Thames for promoting me into management and eventually to colum- nist; special thanks to Van E. Williams, my inspiration as a dad and someone who epitomizes ride or die friendship, hard work and devotion to family.

I’d like to also offer special thanks to the Honorable Gwynne Birzer, one of the most consequential people in my life; Carlota Ponds, Ed O’Malley, Matt Jordan and Shaun Rojas, Sue Dondlinger and Keshia Ezerendu from the Kansas Leader- ship Center; Charles F. McAfee and his unmatched knowledge of local and national African American history and his amazing ties to seemingly anyone of consequence.

A special thanks also to William and Shirley Sanders for their loving example of faith, family and fun, and to their son Barry, one of the most generous and remark- able people I’ll ever meet and someone I’m lucky to call friend.

Contents

Introduction by Richard D. Muma, Provost, Wichita State University iii

Foreword by Ed O’Malley x

I. Black Coffee

Secret Admirer May Wear White Sheet* 3

‘Anything But Black,’ In an Effort to Reach All Minorities,

the Unique Story of Black People Is Being Diluted 5

One Nation, Indivisible: What Will It Take?* 8

When Colleagues Count You Out 10

Savor the Present 13

Getting the Job, Getting the Job Done 15

Are These Guys Felons Because They’re White? 17

This Epidemic Should Not Come As a Surprise 19

Recalling Hollowell’s Greatness 22

A Giant Won Major Battles, But Not Fame 25

Follow Civil Rights Martyr’s Lead on November 2 27

A Monument to Dignity in Adversity 29

Brown v. BOE Event Unlikely Stage for Bush 31

All-Black Town Instilled Determination 33

Listening for Whispers of Fading Past 36

Don’t Overlook Ike’s Civil Rights Work 39

The Lessons of Watergate Still Apply 42

II. Some Were Kings

What Really Matters 47

Nightmare Weighs on Families of the Victims 49

One Less Weapon for Abusers 51

Losing a Job Can Prompt a Dive into Desperation* 53

Why Isn’t Man’s Death Affecting More of Us? 55

Time Meaningless Without Friends 57

Unlike Rush, Lord’s Diner Doesn’t Judge 59

9/11 Families Should Stop Griping 61

Family Tries to Cope After Inmate’s Death 64

Parks Deserves Status He Didn’t Receive in Life 66

Neglected, Parks’ Story Is History Lost 69

The Empty Space That’s Left Behind 72

Respect for Life Missing in a Video of Death 74

The Only Peace Is a Painful One 76

Opposition to Gay Marriage Fueled by Hate 78

This KU Fan Finds it Hard to Be Humbled 80

III. Clorox 2

In the Image of God 85

Running Right Way Pays Off 87

A Sense of Justice. The Lessons He Learned in His Close-knit

Family Are at the Heart of Wichita Native Ron Walter’s Success 89

Civil Rights Giant to Speak in Wichita—Diane Nash Sought

Racial Equality in the ‘60s Through Nonviolent Activism. 94

Lost in Love and Loving Music, Pair Endures 97

Sanders Blindsided—Gift From Teacher Ignited Powerful Memories 99

Don’t Mistake Barry’s Reserve as Not Caring 101

Courting Faith: About 400 Area Youths Get Free Tips From

Some Top Athletes as Well as a Message of Salvation 104

Thoughts of Dad Inspire a Son’s Gratitude 106

Like School, Mom Marks Her 75th 109

Religion Not Ridiculous to Believers 111

IV. Suffer the Little Children

Let’s Not Rely on Kids to Catch Predators 115

Disturbing Behavior on a School Bus* 117

‘Cover Up!’ And Pass the Tweezers 119

Teen Dating Violence Is Far Too Common 121

Parenting Is Key to Curbing Gang Violence 123

Draft Needs PG Rating: Children Shouldn’t Watch NBA Draft 125

Young Black Men: Help Me Understand 127

Boyfriends, Babies Often Mix Poorly 129

Moms’ Low Self-Esteem Puts Kids in Danger* 131

Today’s Gang Culture Is New Form of Slavery 133

Michael Vick: Character vs. Consequence 135

I’m Sorry, But I Won’t Enable You Anymore 137

Ali: Speaking to a Loss Shared by Many 139

Whether You Like Ice-T or Not, ‘It Happens’ 142

The Black Brain Drain 146

Our Muslim Neighbors 153

About the Author 157

Study Guide, Prepared by Dr. Gretchen Eick, Blue Cedar Press 159

Foreword by Ed O’Malley, President and

CEO, Kansas Leadership Center

I moved to Wichita almost 11 years ago and did what any son of a former journal- ist would do—I subscribed to the local newspaper, out of a sense of civic duty and to get up to speed on the local issues. Mark McCormick’s columns in The Wichita Eagle quickly became one of my favorite parts of the paper for three reasons.

First, Mark’s columns almost always taught me something. There was new information, a new perspective that I hadn’t thought about or a lesson that I needed to learn. Sometimes I didn’t want to learn the lesson, but the columns got through to me anyway.

Second, the columns were provocative. Mark wasn’t afraid to raise the heat on his readers. But unlike so many columnists and opinion writers today, Mark wasn’t throwing bombs or propagating fake news or half-truths. Mark was trying to get his readers to consider new truths, but he was also quite transparent with his readers and I was often left feeling Mark was always opening himself to new truths too. As he learned and explored more about community and civic issues, his views would evolve. Through his columns, he modeled what it looks like to explore tough inter- pretations.

And third, Mark’s columns were just great writing. From word choice to sen- tence structure, Mark writes as I wish I could.

I had a chance to meet Mark a year after I arrived in Wichita. We were speaking on a panel together. I felt as giddy as if I were meeting another one of my favorite columnists, David Brooks or Peggy Noonan. We agreed to meet for breakfast a few weeks after the panel discussion and professional and personal relationships were born.

I’ve come to understand Mark as a master story teller. That’s really what he does. Each column told a story, but the collection of columns tells a broader story too. Every speech I’ve heard Mark deliver is full of stories. As the Executive Director of the Kansas African American Museum, Mark and his team promote and tell stories so critical for the future of Kansas.

Like the best story tellers, Mark makes you think and keeps you thinking. The stories roll over and over in your head, as you wrestle with how you or your thinking

is reflected in the story. Sometimes I was left feeling proud, other times conflicted and still other times indicted. But I always felt Mark’s stories had a higher purpose. He wasn’t just entertaining me. He wasn’t just throwing together a column to collect a paycheck. His columns were stories meant to inspire action. They were his vehicle to help move our community forward.

More than just a just a collection of columns, this book is meant to inspire and inform anyone trying to make a difference in their community. I’m certain Mark hopes that any inspiration and information you find in his writing will prompt you to advance the common good of your community.

That seemed to be his intent every time he sat down in front of his keyboard.

I. Black Coffee

If I have a cup of coffee that is too strong for me because it is too black, I weaken it by pouring cream into it. I integrate it with cream. If I keep pouring enough cream in the coffee, pretty soon the entire flavor of the coffee is changed; the very nature of the coffee is changed. If enough cream is poured in, eventually you don’t even know that I had coffee in this cup.

Malcolm X, Message to the Grassroots, November 10, 1963

Secret Admirer May Wear

White Sheet*

April 16, 2003

So many people find themselves staring out from heart- break’s promontory, wondering if true love ever will find them. But I’m one of the lucky ones. I have a secret admirer. Every so often, she leaves me voice mail so overflowing with passion that it would be unsuitable for me to share in this column.

I often wonder about her: Her hair. Her face. Her dreams. Sometimes, I even imagine what she’s wearing. From the content of her messages, I’d guess a flowing white sheet and a matching pointed dunce hat. During the past year, she’s given me several pet names. Her favorite is the N-word. I’m also her sweet Affirmative Action Tar Baby. She’s as dependable as she is attentive. Whenever I write, she quickly responds. And as thoughtful as you please. She’s careful never to call while I’m at work, pre-

sumably because she doesn’t want to disturb me.

But honestly, she does sound a little disturbed. I wrote a column recently about how black families should not have to shoulder the responsibility of integration alone. She called to share in her own special way. She said white parents don’t want their children going to school with Tashanika and DeQuan-Jamall—I’m guessing here; her words weren’t clear—or whatever ridiculous names you people give your kids. . . . My kids are in private school.

Honeysuckle called back to say, When they don’t have names like that, they have names like Jonathan and Reggie—a reference to the Carr brothers, the two young black men who robbed five young people one night and killed four of them.

She called again after a column about how our inner demons of bigotry could prove as toxic as our external ter- rorist foes. I got this voice mail soon after: Well you’re wrong again, dumbs-t.

Too many Americans still don’t believe people like this exist. But they do. We rarely encourage them by writing about them, because they don’t represent the vast majority of Americans. But such bigots do exist, and they don’t live in caves. They live downtown and in suburbs, in wealthy enclaves and in hopeless poverty. They have children in public schools and, as Dumplin’ says, in private schools. They operate without names and without return phone numbers, firing fearful missives from anonymity’s grassy knoll.

These connections are the unfriendly fire that journal- ists encounter in our efforts to connect with readers. We place e-mail addresses and desk phone numbers at the end of most of our stories because we’re reaching out, trying to connect. But when casting in public waters for those con- nections, we sometimes hook people like my Honeybunch. After 15 years of writing professionally, comments such as hers just don’t sting anymore.

Frankly, I really hope love does find her. It would be a shame to waste all that passion.

‘Anything But Black,’

In an Effort to Reach All

Minorities, the Unique Story of Black People Is Being Diluted

September 28, 1996

It’s rare to hear as many different definitions of one term as were posited during a recent discussion of multicultural- ism at Wichita State University. To some, it was as simple as Rodney King’s pained exclamation, Can’t we all get along? To others, it boiled down to respecting ethnic iden- tity. To still others, it represented an attack on the main- stream culture.

But having visited several of the Diversity Week events on the campus and having spent some time with students, a new definition of multiculturalism is quickly emerging in my mind. That definition is: Anything but black. Increas- ingly, it seems that under the banner of multiculturalism, black people are finding their experiences mixed in with the experiences of other groups of people. And that makes me uneasy.

There is a real tension between the idea that black people do not want to be singled out for different treatment, and the idea that black people need to be singled out because their experience is so different from any other group in this country’s history. My fear is that by embracing vague notions of multiculturalism or diversity, people might be able to avoid dealing with uniquely African American issues. And in the process, the social justice issues of black folks will be watered down, glossed over or completely ignored.

Ethnic and cultural identity is important, but compar- ing the historical and social plight of black people to that of recent and often affluent immigrants, and calling the whole movement multiculturalism, dilutes and trivializes

the African American push for social justice. At the uni- versity, I heard a lot of people calling for more tolerance of people’s clothes or their music or their religion, all of which are worthwhile sentiments.

But the black experience in this country goes so much deeper than that. The attempts of a Malaysian student to feel comfortable at WSU are not the same as the attempts of a black student who grew up a block away from campus. The concerns of a white woman about succeeding in the workplace are not the same as the concerns of a black man. The story of Middle Eastern immigrants is not interchange- able with the story of African American slaves.

Sure, I am oversimplifying a bit to make the point. But black students at WSU told me this week that while they were participating in Diversity Week activities, they felt pushed into the margins. It’s more for international stu- dents, said Rhianna Gentry, a St. Louis sophomore who is black. They (organizers of Diversity Week) are cater- ing to people from India, Malaysia, Iraq and so on. Kia Everett, a Kansas City sophomore who is black, said she and some other students feel a little jilted, although there was no tension between the groups.

Black students simply will have to continue doing what they’ve always done on majority white campuses—creat- ing their own community for themselves, and doing their own thing. But in the process, it occurs to me, black people have gone from carrying other groups on their coattails to being left out in the cold without a coat—at least without a coat they can call their own.

And this idea of anything but black goes far beyond just one campus or one week of activities. After a generation of having only a few hours of soul music on a local radio station—it was called Soul Sunday—Wichita eventually got an urban contemporary radio station. But these days, thanks to what I see as the anything but black principle, soulful Luther Vandross gives way to crossover artists Ace of Base, and suddenly an urban contemporary station becomes just another top-40 outlet.

Studies have shown that the spoils of hard-won civil rights battles have most often benefited white women who have been granted limited or honorary minority status. And there have been numerous organizations and programs in Wichita, in Kansas and across the nation that did good work for black people and the black community, but had their funding threatened unless they took their focus off blacks and replaced them with minorities. Many uni- versities used to have a black studies department and now, many of them have minority studies departments.

My favorite sentiment from Malcolm X comes to mind. Malcolm X said that coffee does its job best—keeping you awake and alert—when it’s hot and black and strong. But when you start adding milk and cream and sugar, it’s no longer hot, it’s no longer black and it’s no longer strong enough to keep you awake. Some people might prefer the taste of that kind of coffee; maybe it goes down a little easier and doesn’t have too much of a jolt.

I like my coffee black.

One Nation, Indivisible: What Will It Take?*

November 12, 2008

So who are we really? Is America the country where a poor, black child raised by white grandparents can become President, or the country where Alice Love’s granddaugh- ter tells her she lost her playmate because of the election’s outcome?

Are we the country where the most diverse demo- graphic coalition ever assembled elected its candidate? Or the country where Alice’s daughter dreads going back to work this week at a local fast-food restaurant because a few