Now that our present economy is messing up our climate, causing big donors to support misogynists, we are all repulsed by much of the crop of humans who make up this nation. In the 1960s and 1970s, black culture offered this world a human who was unlike the capitalist of today—the soul brother and soul sister, a believer in righteousness, dressed up for the best, though things were often the worst. He or she was a sympathetic citizen, despite not having the right to vote, wary of his or her roots, who would work towards the just political economy and subsequent society that we today covet.

In the 1960s, black America was going through a golden age. The black south had produced an amount of consciousness that was stirring the jug in unimaginable ways. Organizers like Julian Bond, Andrew Young, Diane Nash, Daisy Bates and Bob Moses made history. Minstrelsy was to be replaced by funk, and everyday language, the sort that expressed the true vitality of black culture, was prized. Black America had popularized human rights and the idea that there should be a just society in ways that made idealists out of hard workers, who disproportionately did menial jobs, like garbage collecting. We became intelligent dreamers, and in came a gush of poetry from the Black Arts Movement—to the Howard poets, to a golden age of the dozens and the poetry in everyday speak—to match our desire and appreciation for beauty and justice.

It was not a simple time. Such cultural dynamism coincided with high levels of brutality, both behind the scenes and in broad daylight. In congress, a coalition between Dixiecrats and conservative republicans made it almost impossible to even think of civil rights for blacks. Blacks were being lynched left and right. The US government at the time, and still today, was no state that wanted to serve the black population. It instead wanted to define it and extract from its preconceived definition. Racists outside of government made life frightful.

From this mess emerged soul culture, which was much more than the dress and music. Though soul culture is often identified with soul music, or rhythm and blues played in cities, I believe that soul culture more than likely comes from a new crop of preachers who did not preach either prosperity gospel or the white-loving stuff that James Baldwin wrote against. It’s very important to note that the sermon, religious rhetoric, has a history in black culture, a history as rich with innovation as black music does. In the 1960s, black culture saw the emergence of Martin Luther King Jr., our homegrown genius, who asked for faith in beauty and betterment from his audience. The dominance of King, and others like him in the south, I believe, before the days of black power, gave way to soul culture. Dr. King asked for empathy, for sympathy, from his congregation of citizens of god’s earth who, despite the fact that they were not granted the right to vote, should consider themselves citizens of god’s earth.

The world is full of famous versions of citizenship. In the '60s, at the time, much of world produced young marxists in search of justice, and ready to die for the good of a proletariat. Black America has also produced a famous citizen: the soulful person, walking down a street with posture, concerned with making this world a better place. That person works hard, has fun, digs culture and supports a family—all things that produce a great economy. That citizen, ladies and gentlemen, can save this country again. Let’s educate our kids to be that person, again.

Bob Moses

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