Читать книгу Still Invisible? - Elvin J. Dowling - Страница 30

"I'm an actor, author and entrepreneur. I owned a restaurant, wrote a book, and had a weekly opinion column for many years. In addition to all of that, I've done television, film, theater, commercials and all other aspects of acting," says the Denver, Colorado native who went on to graduate from New York University with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Acting in 1983, before finding his way to the "City of Flowers and Sunshine," Los Angeles, California. Ever since his introduction onto the television landscape as Lieutenant Martin Kendall of the U.S. Navy, and husband to Denise Huxtable, played by Lisa Bonet, on the NBC hit television program, The Cosby Show, Joseph C. Phillips' image and voice have been a constant fixture on the national stage for more than thirty years. The father of three sons, Phillips understands the importance of standing up for what you believe, while being mindful of the fact that, as a Black man in America, both he and his sons are subject to the same issues of racism and marginalization, regardless of what side of the political spectrum Black men fall on.

"I had, I've always thought, an interesting upbringing. As I get older, however, I realize it probably isn't that interesting. My mother was a teacher, my father was a pediatrician and I was able to grow up in what was a predominantly Jewish neighborhood. Then my parents initiated divorce proceedings when I was in about the sixth grade, and were finally divorced when I started high school. And I left the life that I had come to know, living with my mother, and ultimately moved in with my father. In the winter of that year, my mother committed suicide when I was fifteen years old and my father remarried, but that didn't really work out for him," Philips noted when reminiscing on his early years. The only male child, Joseph's childhood was spent split between two homes, one with a father whose time with Phillips was limited to weekend visitations, and a politically active mother and three strong-willed sisters who helped teach him how to stand firm in his convictions. "I remember accompanying my mother to her state Democratic Conventions and, I didn't really know what she did, but I know my sisters and I had a lot of fun, running around the convention halls, collecting buttons and stickers and all of that. Believe it or not, I remember attending the Democratic convention when Jimmy Carter was nominated and ultimately elected as President of the United States," Phillips recalls, noting the tough economic times that ensued with the Carter Administration. "My mother was involved in the NAACP and, being outspoken and politically active, influenced me greatly and encouraged me to share my opinion," he recalled, ever mindful of the strong voices his sisters were encouraged to share both at home and in the world. "As a result, I have very particular ideas about the world, Black people's place in this world, that a lot of times run counter to Black conventional wisdom," Phillips conceded. "As with Paul Laurence Dunbar's poem, "We Wear The Mask," as a conservative, there is an assumption about who I am and what I believe and people are wrong all of the time," Joseph Phillips notes as he recalls instances in which he has been challenged for his views om issues. “There are times where people have taken exception with me over things that I have never said and things I don't believe. I think that there's a huge assumption others make about me because I step outside of the traditional view of what it means to be a Black man in America,” he noted.

An outspoken spokesman for conservative political principles, Phillips is an atypical figure within the African-American diaspora who represents an important voice on what most Blacks would consider the opposite side of the political aisle. His presence within the conservative movement helps to shatter the preconceived notion that the African-American diaspora is a homogenous society, all of whom possess the same political persuasions. "I have been actively involved in politics, although not as deeply as a lot of people might think," Philips demurs before describing his impressive resume of bona fides, which include having been named to the Republican National Committee's African-American Advisory Board and having received an appointment by then Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger to the board of directors of the California African-American Museum. "I was also a surrogate for President George W. Bush and the Bush-Cheney campaign in 2004," recalls Phillips, a familiar conservative voice on cable news, always willing to uphold the mantle of Black conservatism that was cemented wen President Lincoln emancipated enslaved Africans in 1863.

As late as the mid-1930s, African-American Republican John R. Lynch, who had represented Mississippi in the House during and after Reconstruction, summed up the sentiments of older Black voters and upper middle-class professionals: “The colored voters cannot help but feel that in voting the Democratic ticket in national elections they will be voting to give their indorsement [sic] and their approval to every wrong of which they are victims, every right of which they are deprived, and every injustice of which they suffer” ("Party Realignment"). In today's political climate, however, being both Black and Republican is often a lonely place to be, as the party has, over time, morphed into a club for rich white men. "The reality is that as America’s electorate becomes more diverse, the Republican party is getting whiter. According to the Pew Research Center, the vast majority of Asian American voters (65 percent), Hispanic voters (63 percent) and Black voters (84 percent) identify as Democrats or lean toward the Democratic Party," observed Michael Harriot of The Root, in his essay called "#RepublicansSoWhite: Why Black Voters Don't Mess With the GOP". "Although no more than one-third of the voters in each non-white group leans toward the GOP, a majority of white voters identifies or leans toward the Republican party," Harriot noted. "And none of this is to say that the Democratic Party is a pro-Black party that inherently cares about Black people. It is still controlled and funded by white people, and most Black people are aware of this. But for Black voters, it is still better than the Republican Party" (Harriot). With that reality in hand, however, Phillip' role in the Grand Old Party is just as integral to the political and economic successes of Black people as those who are members of the Democratic Party.

According to the History, Art & Archives of the United States House of Representatives, in their article, "Party Realignment and the New Deal," the tectonic political shift of African-American voters from the party of Lincoln during the Great Migration of Blacks from the South to the North and solidified during the term of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. A series of public works initiatives, social services programs and economic and financial reforms aimed at lifting debt-stricken Americans out of poverty as a result of the disastrous Great Depression, FDR's New Deal offered African-Americans an opportunity at a better economic future, thus beginning their mass exodus to the Democrats ever since. "The realignment of Black voters from the Republican Party to the Democratic Party that began in the late 1920s proliferated during this era. This process involved a 'push and pull': the refusal by Republicans to pursue civil rights alienated many Black voters, while efforts—shallow though they were—by northern Democrats to open opportunities for African Americans gave Black voters reasons to switch parties" ("Party Realignment"). Prior to that shift of political loyalty to Roosevelt and his party's standard bearers, however, African-Americans have not always been a staple constituency group of the Democrats.

Be that as it may, however, Phillips has continued to confound and top-end stereotypes of Black males throughout the entirety of his long and storied professional career. Having played the roles of an uptight business executive in the 1991 comedy movie, Strictly Business, a district attorney on the long running soap opera, General Hospital, and a big city mayor on the CBS television show, The District, Joseph does not fit into the typical archetype for Black men many Americans regularly see in television and film. Even outside of the glare of the cameras, Phillips assumes multiple roles, all of which are aimed at strengthening the community and the country that he loves. In doing so, Phillips is content with obliterating the erroneous assumptions that some may have of him and other Black men who are often misunderstood. "I once took a hiatus from show business and began substitute teaching, which is another passion of mine," said Phillips. "I was teaching a history class one day and I asked the kids in the class if they could tell me what the fifty-five most important words in modern history were [the Preamble to the Constitution of the United States] and soon after we began a discussion about the Declaration of Independence," he recalled. "There were two Black kids in the class and one of them told me that someone had written a racial epithet on the desk and I said, 'ignore it unless they are, they speaking to you!' I then proceeded to tell the student that I grew up in the sixties, during the height of the Civil Rights Movement. I was in second grade when Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated,' he recollected, emphasizing the fact that times have, indeed, changed since his childhood. "I was certainly passed over because I was Black, called names, denied service, that kind of thing. Well, one day, my mother told me, because she knew it would happen, that I would be standing in line somewhere, and the clerk will pass me by and whenever that happens to you--because it will happen to you--speak up for yourself and refuse to be treated as a second class citizen! Today, when people are being extremely rude or are intentionally overlooking me, I am prone to say to them: 'Hey, am I invisible to you?!'