By Julienne Louis-Anderson

(WIB) – When I walked into work on Monday, the conversation around the watercooler was “we bombed Iran.” As a Black woman, I knew I spoke for thousands of Black people when I asked, “Who is ‘we’”?

For Black people in this country, “we” has never been automatic. It has always been conditional.

There’s a term for that — it’s what W.E.B. Du Bois called “double consciousness.” It’s the psychological conflict Black Americans face living and navigating in a society that undervalues us. The struggle between how we are perceived and how we perceive ourselves leads to a dual identity.

The Conditional “We” of American History

So when I asked the question, “Who is we?” It’s because I’m used to the two-faced way America claims and uses Black people while simultaneously belittling and berating us. It’s:

  • The 3/5th Compromise was written into our founding documents. 
  • Erasure of the Tuskegee Airmen and Six Triple Eight from school curricula covering WWII.
  • Dr. Martin Luther King’s statement that Sunday church service is the most segregated hour in America.
  • Beyoncé winning “Best Country” Album, only to be structurally excluded the next  year

Black Americans remain essential to the nation’s prosperity but peripheral to its protection.

When Sacrifice Is Required, Black Americans Are Included

To be clear: Black Americans are not ambivalent to war, service, or sacrifice. Even though Black people make up only 13.7% of the population, we comprise 21.4% of all military branches. My loved ones who enlisted with the promise of paying for school and working themselves out of poverty will be sucked into a war that 93% of Black people openly oppose. This pattern doesn’t just begin with my peers.

Like the majority of Americans, my grandfather’s and his father’s generations served in every major war: World War I, World War II, Korea, the Gulf Wars, etc. They fought next to members of every race. They defended the same flag. They wore the same uniform. They risked their lives to protect this country. At war, they were part of the “we” of America. 

The “We” That Disappears When Soldiers Come Home

After each deployment, Black veterans expected the brotherhood — the “we” they became part of  overseas — to extend to a “we” when they returned home. They quickly realized, however, that was not the case. Instead, veterans like my grandfather returned to segregation, redlining, lynching threats, and a renewed racial hostility. While the G.I. Bill built white middle-class wealth for veterans, many Black veterans were systematically denied equal access to housing loans, education benefits, and economic opportunity. These men fought under the umbrella of “we” Americans and returned as “them,” the second-class citizens.

The plain truth: Black Americans are extended the identity of “we” when sacrifice is required — in war, in labor, in culture. But we are seen as disposable and excluded when benefits, payment, and respect are asked for. 

Why Many Black Americans Are Opting Out

The current White House administration is continuing this trend: from mass incarceration to the erasure of Black history to the mass layoffs of 300,000+ Black women. No wonder we’re choosing to opt out of the “we” now. 

We are tired of the game. It’s why Black Americans are emigrating and starting new lives abroad. It’s why Joy-Ann Reid hosted the People’s State of the Union. It’s why the cast of Sinner received a standing ovation during the NAACP Image Awards on Sunday. The applause was as much about their performances as it was about supporting them after the dehumanizing incident at BAFTA. 

So when a president who despises Black Americans declares military action and the headlines read “we,” I ask again, “Who is ‘we’?”  

Julienne Louis-Anderson is a former educator and Public Voices Fellow of the OpEd Project in Partnership with the National Black Child Development Institute.