A Treatise on the Black Intellectual.

MoGregoryIII is a longtime friend, world-traveller, co-conspirator, and incendiary cultural critic.  He yanks the warm blanket of ignorance off of the mewing conformists that compose a great deal of our society.  In an effort to bring enlightenment to the masses, he shared this piece with us.


A black intellectually is an endowed and unique individual in this modern day and society, who is often misunderstood.  To understand what a black intellectual is I must first give a well-known example. An excellent example is our current commander in chief, Barack Hussein Obama. By addressing the attacks on his character, we can truly see the views of main stream America.

One of the first character attacks on any black intellectual is the idea that they are “uppity.”  While this may sound like a baseless, or small affront on someone’s character, the devil is in the history of the word. So what does uppity truly mean? A quick Google inquiry can illustrate this point. Uppity was previously a term used by whites to refer to blacks that appeared to be too intellectual and not know their place. I ask the reader to truly think about the connotation of being too intellectual.  Should there be any penalty on an individual in an enlightened society on the intelligence of any human being?  The second and perhaps most important part of this statement is the idea that one has a place in society.  Should anyone truly have a defined role, in a truly open society?  If so who has the power over an individual to decide their role in a society?  When this term is used and it has been used often.  It gives us a glimpse into the nature of the person who employs it.  Words have weight, and when we casually use words, especially diction that is so racially charged, we must be cognizant of their perceived origin.

Another common term used by people who are black, white and everything in between is the idea of being called an Oreo or some other effigy.  For those who do not know, an Oreo is a black person who is perceived to be white on the inside.  This term can be used to describe a black persons’ diction, mannerisms, or any other host of attributes.  Many may see this as an innocent term, but let us switch gears for a minute.  In my travels, I have met many white people who have a variety of speech styles or even use different languages entirely. Yet, I have never thought “Hmm, this white guy speaks like a southerner, but the last white guy I met had perfect syntax so I guess he’s not really “white”.  Sound preposterous? Yup, because it is! However, for African Americans and other minorities this term is seen as acceptable and rational view on the differences between those in the racial group.  If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me what country I was from, where I grew up etc… I wouldn’t need to work for the rest of my life.  However, it is still a thinly veiled query to a simple question.  “You look black, but you aren’t like what I think I know about black people, therefore you must be an outlier?”   A person of even casual intelligence should instead think, “Hmm, maybe some of my previous prejudices are wrong.”  Sadly, that’s not how most people’s brains work.  With this same sort of logic, it’s easy to see how it is so very easy to arrive at some very ridiculous conclusions with relative ease.  Why is it reasonable to assume that the person standing before you that looks black must not truly be black?  They in fact must be some strange, black mutants who only appear black, they are instead some sort of impostor.  It’s the same reason that Tom Sawyer called Nigger Jim, “white” on the inside. If you don’t get the reference, try reading a book.  Right now you’re thinking, “That was in the 1800’s, there were slaves and people were confused!” ad nauseum.

The year is 2013…6172_1183464467581_8193584_n

Try to catch up…



The one really smart, kinna uppity black guy.

To read more contributions by MoGregoryIII, click here.

To read more on America, Click Here.


  1. alicetamani

    Very interesting. I am a blonde haired, blue eyed, white woman from Australia, whose father was a dark skinned Lithuanian refugee who came to Australia in 1941, married and had 6 children. I married a white Australian in my early twenties, had three children and separated by my 30th birthday. As kids, we were always aware of some kind of racial discrimination, and had to act more white than white. We were given European first names to combat our last name of “Lenigas”, we all were pushed to be over achievers at school and go on to University education. My father was a trombonist who had a car accident in his 30’s, and with no other trade, he and my mother opened a country store. They later moved to Brisbane and opened a general store there. My parents worked tirelessly to put six children through private schooling and encouraged us to further study. Two of us gained scholarships to school which might have eased the burden somewhat.
    When I was 35, I met and fell in love with an Ethiopian man who was working in Brisbane (and also came to Australia as a refugee). I fell pregnant and the child was born. From the time I fell pregnant, it was like I suddenly had spinach on my teeth. People looked at me and spoke to me differently. I was asked whether the child’s father was Aboriginal (indigenous Australian). On a negative response, my friend said, “Thank God for that!”. When I took the kids to the beach or the pool, other mothers would loudly say on observing three fair kids and one dark one, “I wish she would put some sun screen on that child!”. The child very precocious as a little one, and no wonder: every where we went, to the grocery store, to school drop offs, to day care, everywhere, he was talked about as if he was not present – “Where is he from (my womb); Where is his father (at home); Is his father black? (and if he is?); he will be a good runner (like all African stereotypes?); he really is a smart one (shouldn’t he be?). The kids were asked at football training, “Who is that black kid?”. “He’s my brother”. “He doesn’t look like your brother”. “Well, he is”.
    Mystified, I started reading, everything I could get my hands on, and most lent to me by other African friends. The most important book I read was “The Black Diaspora” by Ronald Segal http://www.amazon.com/books/dp/0374524904#reader_0374524904. This book helped me to that with the forced migration of Africans via slavery to the Middle East, Europe, The West Indies, and The Americas, an instant class was formed. In all of these countries, there was already a previously well established class system, however, with all classes previously being of the same ethnicity, one could rise out of one class, and transcend to the next without too much difficulty: a new suit, a bit of education, or money were all it took. There would be gossip and innuendo re the newly rich, but it would end with the next generation. However, with the black diaspora, it became very easy to instantly tell just by the colour of the skin and eyes, the curl of the hair, whether someone was in the wrong place after dark, on the wrong farm, sleeping with the wrong coloured woman, or having possessions on his or her person that he or she would not be entitled to. It was easy to spot if two or three or more of this new and instantly recognizable class gathered without permission. It was simple to meet out a punishment based on any of these observations. Also, because the new servant class was distinguishable by skin colour alone, it was ingrained into the populace and the next generations, that “black”, “brown” or any variation thereof meant that without a doubt, that person was inferior. There was no need to tell blacks apart, as their class was all the same, and all that mattered. No new suit would cover that up – only lead to that person being “uppity” perhaps. It may then follow on as part of that premise that those distinguishable by colour as fitting into a certain class, may also be assumed to have limited education, and that education for them or intellectualism may be a surprising feature.
    I am now married to an iTaukei (indigenous black Fijian) who has a Masters Degree in Animal Science and we live here in Fiji with the aforementioned child. Here even, the idea that an indigenous Fijian could be so highly educated is almost preposterous, and there is a tall poppy syndrome alive and well. The child who is half white, half African, has really found his feet, as people on seeing him assume that he is our natural child. Even though here they assume that he is half white, half Fijian, he is called a “half caste”. Interesting to me, and maybe to you.


  2. alicetamani

    Reblogged this on Alice Tamani Fiji and commented:
    I came across this today, and my response is below. It got me thinking, could it be possible that international companies trading profitably in Fiji and other developing nations do not feel a pressing moral corporate urge to educate the public regarding the recycling of their containers, and without being asked to, start a “good news story” for themselves in creating a recycling awareness program and culture, including the provision of bins and collection because of a reason I almost dare not mention? Could it possibly be that the inhabitants of most “developing nations” are dark skinned?


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