As I read through the latest outrage at the moment, aka, the hoopla over new rapper Chief Keef, I keep hearing Georgia Anne Muldrow and Erykah Badu lyrically asking, “what if there were no n****rs, only master teachers?”

For those who don’t know, Chief Keef is the Chicago teenager (above photo, to the left), who started out of as just another YouTube rapper and has now become one of hip-hop’s most buzzed about artists. Not only has he just inked a deal with Interscope Records, but he also has caught the attention of such hip hop mavericks as Kanye West, who hopped on a remix of his song, “I Don’t Like.” He is also being investigated for a possible connection in the shooting death of fellow Chicago rapper, Joesph ‘Lil JoJo’ Coleman (above, to the right), who may I add, was only 16.

Keef, who was born Keith Cozart, drew the attention of law enforcement after laughing off the murder of Lil JoJo by saying via Twitter, “Its Sad Cuz Dat N—– Jojo Wanted to Be Jus Like Us #LMAO.” He is also known for promoting and supporting gang culture including dancing around in his music videos with what appears to be automatic weapons and tweeting the hashtag “#300” — a known reference to the Black Disciples. And at 17 years old, Keef has already faced numerous criminal charges, including a weapons charge, which has already landed him on house arrest.

The response to the rise of Keef has been rather swift, most notably from fellow Chicago rapper Lupe Fiasco, who publicly criticized Keef for perpetrating the hoodlum lifestyle, which runs parallel to the culture of violence already running amok in the streets of Chicago.  Many folks I have encountered have agreed with Lupe, claiming that Keef, and others of his elk, are a burden to the community. “These n****rs are the reason why our community is the way it is,” has become a commonplace mantra in the minds of some black folks.  But truth be told, I see plenty of Chief Keefs in my community all the time. And when it comes to what’s wrong with the community, there is enough of that blame to be shared all around.

Young people, particularly young black people, have longed played witness to serious and lethal violence within their own communities. When I graduated from high school, the murder rate in Philadelphia was around 4oo deaths per year.  My nephews and niece, who only a month ago, learned of the shooting death of a teenager only steps away from their front door have already grasped the finality of death, even before they can mature enough to witness adulthood. Recently, I saw a bunch of little kids, between the ages of 9 to 11, roaming the street around 12:30 in the morning like a bunch of aimless orphans. Unfortunately, seeing hordes of parentless children at odd hours of the night has become so much of the norm that I didn’t even bother to flinch. The reality is that long after Chief Keef’s moment in the limelight has faded – whether it be from gang violence, the prison industrial complex or crossing over to the mainstream – the community will still have a violence problems. If we don’t get a handle on it, there will be someone else, someone younger, to take his place. Exhibit 1: 13-year old Lil Mouse.

But even as the threat of losing an entire generation (i.e. the children) grows uncomfortably near, many of us have become stagnated in prayer, hope, apathy and the wait for change to come.  I noticed this much last week when all eyes were fixated on the Democratic National Convention. Collectively, African-Americans are more involved in the political process than most other minority groups, supporting a one-party system by as much as 90 percent. However, we have yet to see the fruits from all of our labor or loyalty.  Nevertheless, when Rahm Emanuel asked us whose leadership we wanted in event of “an unforeseen crisis, challenge or conflict,” we don’t bother to question whose leadership is in charge as a teachers strike looms and blood runs red in the streets of Chicago. We smirked and laughed alongside former President Bill Clinton, who worked his arithmetic mojo while reaffirming President Obama’s commitment to the work requirement in welfare reform, a policy called by most a dismal failure.  And as the RNC’s mantra/question – “Are you better now than four years ago?” – blared from our television sets, many of us couldn’t wait to nod our heads in the affirmative, even when the reality – at least for us – suggests otherwise.

(CNN) – He had been on the run for four decades. He escaped from prison when Richard Nixon was in the White House, joined the Black Liberation Army in Detroit, hijacked a plane and (in)famously demanded that FBI agents deliver ransom money in bathing suits. And they did.  Now, after a manhunt spanning three continents that often appeared to run cold, the FBI has finally found George Wright.  At age 68, he was living quietly in the resort of Sintra near Lisbon in Portugal when he was arrested Monday.  The United States is seeking his extradition from Portugal to serve the remainder of a 15- to 30-year sentence for murder. Portuguese judicial authorities could not be reached Tuesday for details of the extradition process.  Wright is fighting extradition, a U.S. federal agent said, and his next court appearance in Portugal is in about two weeks.

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Remember the theme song to the 70s black television sitcom Good Times?

Temporary lay-offs.

Good Times.

Easy credit rip-offs.

Good Times.

Scratchin’ and survivin’.

Good Times.

Hangin’ in the Chow line.

Good Times.

Ain’t we lucky we got ‘em

Good Times.

There has always been a running joke about the lyrics in the Good Times’ theme song. But, what was so great about black folks in the projects struggling to survive? If anything, those aforementioned situations sound downright like a miserable existence.

However, a new study, which appears in the current issue of Cultural Diversity and Ethnic Minority Psychology—a research journal published by the American Psychological Association—may be able to help shed some light on why being black and poor can mean good times. According to researchers at Michigan State University, African American people who identify more strongly with their racial identity are generally happier than those who don’t.

It has been a long-held belief that a person’s happiness depends upon a number of external factors, including making lots of money, having nice material things, being a parent, falling in love or achieving some heights in one’s own career. However, this new research suggest that those who are black-centered — or in other words, thought that being black was an important part of who they are — felt more fulfilled with their life as a whole.

This new research supports previous studies, including a Pew Research Center study, which suggests that material things like money are less of a factor in determining happiness for blacks than it is for whites. It’s also a conclusion that has been championed throughout black-nationalism and Afrocentric circles for years, extending back to the black pride movement of the 60s when black folks picked Afros and pumped black fist in the air as a sign of racial identity and solidarity.

Of course, racial pride should not to be confused with racial supremacy and superiority, which is mostly bred out of fear of the “others” and one’s own disempowerment. To the contrary, black pride is similar to what Italians feel when marching in parades and waving Italy’s flags on Columbus Day, or Irish Americans feel when discussing the trials and tribulations of Ireland. It’s about celebrating one’s own cultural, physical and sociopolitical contributions to society while relying on the emotional significance and personal empowerment that comes from being associated with said racial group.

That’s why it should come as little surprise that black secondary-aged students seem to succeed more in Afrocentric-focused educational environments and that the top eight colleges producing African-Americans who get PhDs. in science and engineering over the previous decade were Historically Black Colleges and Universities.
If anything, this new research gives weight to the idea that being black doesn’t necessarily have to be a burdensome experience and that there is hope, strength, fraternity – and yes, good times – for those who have yet to declare that they are black and proud.

Charing Ball is the author of the blog People, Places & Things.