To date I have authored and self-published seven books whose language and style cater to the African American middle and lower classes. The reason for this is the 1980-90's dash many American Buddhists contrarily made to mainstream publishers catering to white, educated, upper middle class readers. The mad dash to be published in the mainstream was borne of quests for status, marketing viability, and sales. Hence, Dharma readers, organizations, and American Buddhist centers swelled with whites eager for more information, study and practice while blacks struggled for place in their midst.
Several African American writers broke through but they were primarily limited to college professors, black exotics willing to shave their heads in far away lands, and LGBT community members seeking refuge from patriarchal homophobic God centered religious dogma. Most of these authors were edited by whites on behalf of their white publishers and readers. However eloquent the finished product, their writing sty
le spoke to the need of appropriation by a growing community of white centrism in the American Buddhist community. Addressing the need of downtrodden black folk including the million plus incarcerated in American jails and prisons was not seen as a viable publishing adventure. The catch phrase, "They don't read," was used to assuage writing to, for, or about them.I made a different choice that included a writing style that would seem base by mainstream standards. The quasi-intellectual lexicon of my work comes from years of working in black communities, literacy, programs, prisons, and on urban streets where intellectualisms are expressed in post-Ebonics layered with phraseology resistant to dominant culture appropriation. It was always a great joy to see street intellectuals read my work and return with a glistening smile. Many of tem recognized the language pattern as one familiar to their sensibilities and for the first time saw Buddhism as accessible. It is for them and those who see them as a community survival resource that my work sings, and I'm good with that. It makes me feel happy and more human.
Although I have suffered many indignities for my choice to write for the people, I feel the work of bringing Dharma to ordinary black people has been served. I am educated in classical music and theater at the graduate level, and hold certificates of study from the National Shakespeare Company (New York) and the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (London). I could have written Black Buddha in high prose and scored it with symphonic music but that would not have served the community I came from. I grew up on the streets of suburban Los Angeles during the tumult of 1960's and revolutionary ideals.
I apologize to my family for making the less economically viable choice to self-publish my unique works. I had the same hard choices to make as any other writer. My sense is my writings will stand the test of time, particularly since mainstream publishing has changed its field of interest under increasing economic pressures. Three years ago I saw a first edition of Black Buddha for sale on-line as a rare book priced at quadruple to its original cost.
I felt then as I do now that the black masses have few to serve their needs and even fewer who can or are willing to sacrifice status, economic viability, and mainstream appeal on their behalf. There is nothing noble about taking less than your efforts and talents can command. I simply did what I thought was right at the time.
Outside of blogging, my black Buddha writing period has come to an end. I've written enough to satisfy my commitment to the urban street elders who set me on a path away from the destructive intrigues of street life. In the end I have found Buddhist peace as well as eternal thanks to those who read and understood the intention of my work over the years.
Thank you all,
Lama Rangdrol
.
