From: djohns@elm.circa.ufl.edu (David A. Johns)
Newsgroups: soc.culture.african.american
Subject: Bill Maxwell on the "X" craze
Date: 5 Sep 92 12:35:25 GMT
Organization: University of Florida, Gainesville

Another column from Bill Maxwell, a black journalist and English
professor here in Gainesville, Florida (The Gainesville Sun, 9/5/92).

        The Meaning of Malcolm's 'X'

        Spike Lee has pulled off one of the greatest publicity stunts
        in the history of filmmaking.  By simply putting an "X" on a
        baseball cap, he not only has generated a new fashion thing,
        but he has created broad excitement for his movie "Malcolm X,"
        to be released on Nov. 20.

        "We're telling (blacks) they've got to support this film and
        support Malcolm," Lee said recently in the Los Angeles Times.
        "It's not Hollywood, this ain't Walt Disney.  This is about
        the state of race relations in the world."

        Hype and gimmicks aside, Lee's use of the "X" has produced a
        troublesome climate in which millions of African-American
        teens, by virtue of their dress, have deluded themselves into
        believing that they're suddenly in touch with the spirit of
        Malcolm X, the slain Muslim leader.

        Everywhere I go, I see young sisters and brothers sporting "X"
        caps and T-shirts.  I've even seen a few $280 "X" leather
        jackets.  Most students with whom I've spoken at the college
        where I teach claim that they're making a political statement
        when they wear the "X."

        Even some adults believe that black youths are being
        political.  Several months ago, when I wrote a column
        criticizing a group of black students for how they bungled the
        takeover of the Student Government offices at the University
        of Florida, the director of the school's Institute of Black
        Culture wrote a letter to the editor condemning me while
        praising the students for wearing the "X" caps and various
        theme T-shirts.  In other words, the students' political
        commitment was measured by the "X" factor.

        The overwhelming majority of young bloods who wear the "X" do
        so as a fashion statement, not a political one.  And I think
        this trend is counterproductive.

        Again, too many black teens believe that the mere wearing of
        the "X" puts them in touch with Malcolm's ideals.  These teens
        fail to understand that you can't get a political philosophy
        and a way of life through osmosis or transmigration.
        Malcolm's life was a constant life-and-death struggle, a
        commitment to self-sacrifice and a willingness to learn.

        Most black youngsters --- not having read Malcolm's writings
        and the many works on his life -- don't fully understand the
        depth of their idol's character.  They're attracted to TV
        clips of Malcolm's fiery speeches, his poses of defiance and
        photographs of his serious demeanor.

        But Malcolm was all of these things and much, much more.

        I'm convinced, for example, that he would have denounced the
        new fashion thing in his name.  He believed in simplicity in
        everything, especially in dress.  Yes, he frowned on gaudiness
        (and Spike Lee knows it).  He disliked extravagance of all
        kinds.  For sure, he would disapprove of the money young
        sisters and brothers waste on their outfits, apparel intended
        merely to impress others.

        Malcolm wanted African-Americaqns to study, to learn, to
        become wise.  Ironically, a T-shirt bearing Malcolm's words,
        "Think -- it's not illegal yet!" is worn by thousands of black
        teens whoo scoff at education, who belittle serious black
        students for "acting white."  Malcolm was dedicated to the
        life of the mind.  Being smart wasn't a white thing or a black
        thing.  Being smart was the right thing -- period.

        Austerity was another of Malcolm's themes.   African-Americans
        of my generation remember his plain black suits, white shirts,
        and narrow black ties.  He was the perfect image of the
        thinking revbolutionary.  For him, moneywas a means of
        improving one's mind, elevating the standard of living of
        one's family, and easing the misery of blacks generally.
        Money, therefore, wasn't to be used for mere material
        possessions and frivolity, for flaunting one's acquisitions.

        And to his followers, Malcolm embodied pleasing
        contraditcitons: His rhetoric was acid, but his diction was
        precise.  His gestures were intimidating, but his smile was
        calming. His stare was mesmerizing, but his voice was
        liberating.  He was an ex-convict, but he became a saint to
        many.  He had been a womanizer, but he became the ideal
        husband and father.  And he had been a drug addict and
        alcoholic, but he became an advocate of keeping "God's temple"
        free of all poisonous substances.

        The May 1992 issue of the youth magazine YSB (Young Sisters
        and Brothers) featured an article on Malcolm by A. Peter
        Bailey, who gave what I consider the best advice ever offered
        to black teens interested in honoring Malcolm:

        "Caps and T-shirts aren't enough; listening to raps that
        mention Malcolm is not enough; nor is using his message simply
        to woof at whites.  To really honor him means being willing to
        sacrifice for family and relly knowing -- by reading or
        listening to his speeches -- what Malcolm gave his life for."

David