Wake-Up for Unity
“Wannabee | A person who tries to be like someone else or to fit in with a particular group of people—
Jigaboo | A derogatory term historically used to demean and dehumanize darker-skinned African Americans, labeled simply as “offensive” in most references.”
I must state that I am deeply disturbed by the growing divide within the Black community—between Black elites and entertainers, between ADOS (American Descendants of Slavery) and Black immigrants, and even more starkly, between pastors who dare to support ministries that align with Donald Trump and those who reject him outright. These divisions feel like a betrayal of the unity our community has long sought, and they raise painful questions about our collective identity and the cost of political loyalty. These rifts are more than disagreements—they are fractures in the foundation of a people who share a history of struggle and resilience, bound by the fight for equality and restitution, not merely corporate promises of equity.
The Divide Today
The movie School Daze by Spike Lee, released in 1988, struck a powerful chord within the American Black community, particularly in the North, because it brought these terms—Wannabee and Jigaboo—to the forefront. The "Wannabees" were light-skinned, upwardly mobile Black individuals striving for acceptance in elite circles, while the "Jigaboos" were darker-skinned, often excluded, and dismissed. What made the movie so impactful, though, wasn’t just its exploration of colorism and class. It was the deeper truth that both groups, despite their differences, were chasing the same thing: freedom.
The tension Spike Lee highlighted felt real and familiar. At the time, many Black Americans were stepping out of apartment buildings and into the broader world, ready to claim their place in the American economy. But that journey wasn’t the same for everyone. Those with lighter skin found doors slightly more open, while darker-skinned individuals faced greater hurdles. Yet, despite these differences, the lesson was clear: we were all united by the same blood, the same history, and the same struggle for dignity and progress.
Spike Lee didn’t stop at showcasing these divisions—he challenged us to move beyond them. The ringing of the bell at the end of School Daze wasn’t just cinematic; it was a demand to wake up. It was a reminder that as a community, Black Americans have a mission—one designed by God—to create pathways for the oppressed, to unite in purpose, and to deliver those still bound by systemic chains.
The Evolving Face of Racism
Today, one of the most significant internal divides within the Black community lies in the distinction between American Descendants of Slavery (ADOS) and Black immigrants who migrated to the United States after 1965. Recognizing this distinction is essential because it shapes the unique experiences, histories, and challenges faced by these groups. ADOS have a lineage rooted in this country, shaped by centuries of enslavement and systemic oppression, while many Black immigrants hold ties to their native lands and often aspire to replicate their cultural lives here in America. For ADOS, however, America is home. It’s the land our ancestors built, and it’s where our fight for justice and equality must take place. This isn’t shade to Africa—it’s simply the reality of our unique lineage, one that was severed from its roots but cultivated here through resilience and determination.
In many ways, we are no longer fighting the overt racism of the past. There are no police officers setting attack dogs on peaceful protesters or water hoses spraying people in the streets without consequences. However, racism has not disappeared—it has become more insidious, deeply embedded in our institutions. It lingers in our prison systems, where sentencing disparities persist; in our educational structures, which often fail to provide Black children with equitable opportunities; and in our corporate organizations, where advancement is often hindered by systemic bias. It hides behind a facade of progress, masked by well-meaning efforts like Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives that may look good on paper but often fail to create meaningful change.
DuBois, Washington, and Education
The divide between W.E.B. DuBois and Booker T. Washington continues to echo through our community. DuBois believed education would empower the “Talented Tenth” to lead the race to progress, while Washington emphasized practical skills like farming and trade as the foundation of independence. But somewhere along the way, education turned into programming, and the value of hard work was replaced by jails and prison cells.
The prison system, which disproportionately incarcerates Black men and women, has become a modern-day tool of oppression, deliberately reinforcing cycles of poverty and exclusion. These systems are not broken—they are operating as they were designed, targeting individuals who have already been failed by an education system that offers no real pathway to success. Instead of rehabilitation, the prison system prioritizes punishment, destroying families in the process. It creates single-parent households, leaving mothers to struggle alone, often with no choice but to rely on welfare and public housing subsidies, which only further entrench them in poverty.
In the past, television series like Good Times, The Jeffersons, A Different World, Living Single, and Martin reflected Black love, family, and ambition. These shows were aspirational and authentic, portraying the richness and resilience of Black life in ways that resonated deeply with the community. However, over time, media representation has grown and shifted. Today, instead of celebrating the diversity and complexity of Black experiences, we are often presented with shallow caricatures that reduce Black life to stereotypes.
This shift extends beyond media to music, which frequently glorifies violence and materialism, shaping a culture that equates success with becoming "Mainstream"—whether through music, podcasting, acting, or landing corporate jobs to live a cushy lifestyle. Yet, these corporate spaces are often another battleground for systemic racism. The barriers manifest in specific schools for recruiting or growth opportunities only offered to certain career levels. Tokenism is often displayed by uplifting one Black "star" while tearing down others to preserve the unspoken "one-rule" image of diversity. On so many occasions, Black professionals are not treated as individuals but as exceptions, symbolic representatives of their entire race. These systems prioritize optics over actual change, leaving most Black professionals without the mentorship, resources, or opportunities needed to truly thrive.
Unity: A Principle We’ve Forgotten
Back in the 1960s and 70s, Black Americans worked together to achieve common goals. What happened to us? Heroin, crack, greed, and a relentless pursuit to “be the GOAT” have fractured our unity. Prisons became glorified warehouses for talented Black young men, robbing our communities of their potential and turning promise into punishment. Corporate spaces turned into barriers instead of ladders, and media reduced our stories to shallow entertainment. We’ve grown more focused on individual status than on building the solidarity that once strengthened our community.
Unity in practice begins with acknowledging that ADOS have a unique identity, shaped by our specific history in America. We must respect that lineage while also working to bridge gaps with immigrant Black communities. Together, we can find strength in our differences, recognizing that progress for one group uplifts the collective.
Wake Up: A Call to Action
At its core, School Daze reminds us that the "Jigaboos" and the "Wannabees" were after the same thing: freedom. Both groups yearned to rise above their circumstances, to claim their dignity and worth. Spike Lee’s ringing of the bell at the end was a wake-up call—a reminder that Black Americans have a mission designed by God to create pathways for the oppressed. But we cannot fulfill that mission if we remain divided, consumed by envy, self-interest, and shallow judgments.
I don’t have all the answers. My hope is that our community leaders, political representatives, and church leaders can come together in unity before God to make feasible, lasting changes in the Black community. We need to wake up, and we need to do it quickly. In four years, there will be another election upon us, and the stakes have never been higher. Our unity is not optional; it is essential.
This content is the intellectual property of Jacqueline Session Ausby and may not be reproduced, distributed, or used in any form without my express written permission. For inquiries or permission requests, please contact me at Jmbeausby@aol.com.
