the black experience
Georgia Congresswoman Empowers  Voiceless  Bia
Clara Germani
Staff writer of The Christian Science Monitor
WASHINGTON Black, female, and young, newly seated Congresswoman Cynthia McKinney is part of the forward guard of a new generation infiltrating the corridors of traditionally white male power. Her reception at the Capitol is perhaps the clearest example of how unusual the Georgia Democrat's presence here is: Guards at staff entrances and staff elevators still try to turn her away because she doesn't look like a member of Congress, she says.
But then, says Ms. McKinney, she s not trying to fit into a status quo that has traditionally left her constituents "voiceless and oftentimes voteless as well."
Instead, she wants Washington to adjust to where she's coming from: the newly drawn majority-black 11th District of Georgia. Extending through urban, suburban, and rural areas
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with high concentrations of poverty, unemployment, illiteracy, and teen pregnancy, the district that McKinney fought to create while she was a state representative is full of people "who have never seen a congressperson, never knew what Congress was," she says.
"Because I go into these meetings and hearings [here] and am invited to sit at the table, [my constituents] have a seat at the table where decisions are being made that will impact their lives. And that's what is new and different and exciting [about my being here]," she says.
Small behind her big governmentissue desk, McKinney wore braids, a batik dress, and a Mickey Mouse watch during a recent interview. But her voice fiercely pointed at times  fills her Capitol Hill office with authority. She is most vehement when explaining the needs of the black community.
McKinney, a 37-year-old divorced single mother of a seven-year-old
boy, is the daughter of 1c Rep. Billy McKinney, on first black policemen. SI Atlanta accompanying civil rights demonstrati
She bridles at questio there is a new agenda-that of the civil right 1960s for a new gener leaders.
"The agenda for civ stops," she says. "In   Congressional Distric have black people whe nied their right to v elections that have tur who have been turm the polls. No, I can't sa rights era is over."
While the black age broadened to include t tions, she says that be remains a core issue tl times be obscured b success of many blacl
"Certainly you've hi who've been able to t
t the system as it is, and that s a thing," she says. "But we need ^have more blacks who are able to veUp, and to do that we need to have a government that's more sensitive to the needs of the rest of us." Black-community problems such as teenage pregnancy, limited access t0 health care, joblessness, and inferioreducation are all ultimately rooted in limits to avil rights, McKinney says.
And how much are these problems due to white racism? "Racism is sort of the structural construct around which our society today operates. ... We have a lot of rightthinking, good-hearted white Americans who understand that there's a problem. . . but nobody seems to know the answer. ..."
McKinney credits her career in
politics and as a college instructor working on her doctorate in international affairs to being a "child of affirmative action." But, she adds, that doesn't mean that blacks have completely achieved the civil rights they are due.
She points to her own experience campaigning in rural Georgia as an example of how racism can still bar access to basic civil rights. She describes how local officials in one rural town escorted her out of the county rather than have her spend the night there, because of fears that Ku Klux Klan members, upset about being put into a majority-black district, might do her harm.
But she says the fact that the area elected her as the first black congresswoman from Georgia shows that
30. Black Americans
Blings are changing. And getting more people of color elected to city councils and county commissions and school boards" is a major part of the minority agenda for the 1990s, McKinney says.
But as a black leader, can she represent the interests of the 45 percent of her constituents who are not black?
"That was the fallacy all along of those who led white backlash movements: that there was some danger in incorporating blacks into the mainstream of whatever it was to be an American," McKinney says.
She adds: "[I] provide an opportunity for them to redeem themselves in a way that is tolerant of people who are different and accepting of differences of opinions."
Community Activist in Los Angeles Stresses Economic Clout for Blacks
Daniel B. Wood
^writer of The Christian Science
Monitor
LOS ANGELES the civil rights era, African- encans should have been looking or economic power instead of the   P wer which we thought the answer," says Mark Whit-^^tive director of L.A. Renais-new6 38 year old founder of this 'v?e hos menhi Says thdt such fundaw"*"  ,ts"w in a in L T ^^ shment for blacks L S ,ha  the quart argely unchanged in Ploded E CentUry since ^atts ex-"Instehere n 1965  
money anrl   foxing government urband2 ]nvesting k in homes and Put it in^ Oy,ment' we should have Wlocv   businesses," Mr. foplovinr^5' would now be ourselves, doing business
with ourselves, and we would have our own economy that would ensure our place at the decisionmaking tables."
The lesson needs to be learned in every large city in America, says Whitlock, a St. Louis native who went to L. A., later became a Chicago businessman, and now is a Los Angeles father of two. df blacks controlled a more proportional slice of each community's economic pie, he says, clout would extend naturally into politics, culture, and education^ Since they do not, he says, the American dream is still a dream deferred for most African-Americans."
To emphasize his fundamental difference in approach, Whitlock has been creating an alternative to the more well-known consortium of city, state, and federal bodies known here as "Rebuild L.A." That organization is attempting mere patchwork from the top down, he says, and is doomed to repeat past failures.
"You can't rebuild something that was built wrong in the first place," Whitlock says. "We need to build anew, from the community up."
Enter L.A. Renaissance, an umbrella organization for about seven programs intended for African-Americans to break their cycle of financial and psychological dependency and poverty.
To get low-interest loans of $2,000 to $20,000 to start a business in the community for instance, applicants must first complete a 10-week entrepreneurial program. A job-creation and employment section focuses on rareer development and promotion, developing skills for particular industries. Another program provides mentoring for young men and women about discipline, self-esteem, and getting on successful educational tracks early
Other ideas include breakfasts to hear national and community leaders, and sports activities to provide alter-
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6. AFRICAN AMERICANS
natives to gangs and the drug culture.
"This is a response to the total reversal of the Great Society programs of the '60s," says the Rev. John Cager, an L.A. Renaissance project manager. "CETA [the Comprehensive Employment and Training Act], JTPA [the Job Training Partnership Act], Job Corps you don't hear about [federal] programs like that anymore. They failed because they just threw money at the problems until things quieted down. So we're starting our own."
By most accounts, credit for the success of L.A. Renaissance in securing nearly $5 million in underwriting from such companies as the Disney Company, Reebok, and ARCO goes to Whitlock. A self-described ex-drug user and dealer, formerly a gang member and a homeless person, Whitlock broke that cycle through his involvement with the leading African-American church in Los Angeles, First African Methodist Episcopal (FAME).
After rising to vice president of a Chicago insurance firm, Whitlock wanted to harness his experience for struggling blacks back on the streets of his former community. "I learned how millions of dollars were advancing the goals of my employers from real estate to banking," says Whitlock. "I thought, why not translate my experience directly to the African-American community?"
"Mark has come to Los Angeles as a CARE package," says Cecil Murray, head pastor of FAME. "He is equally comfortable in the boardroom, on the gang streets, or in the pulpit. He helps African-Americans believe in themselves because they believe in him."
The wall of Whitlock's office bears tributes to his civic accomplishments. Certificates from the police department, the mayor, and the city attorney recognize such programs as one he spearheaded four years ago to rid the local community of gangs, crack houses, and prostitution. Fifty to 200 men walked the streets for
months serving notice t1 havior would not be tok teen crack houses were
"I want everything I message to African-An you cannot blame the what has happened," V "If you do, you will cc main a victim."
African-Americans e nied the same financial fair housing, and e< whites, he says. But he time is ripe to reverse His clarion call for A cans in the 1990s: Har: and brightest, not for 500 companies, but bad where they can help the themselves up by the b
"Many have had . mentality for so Ion; know how to break says. "Well, it's the e: creates the rules, and ii to create our own rule
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Article 31
GROWING UP IN BLACK AND WHITE
For African-American children, learning to love themselves is a tough challenge
Jack E. White
 Mommy, I want to be white. 
Imagine my wife s anguish and alarm when our beautiful brown-skinned three-year-old daughter made that declaration. We thought we were doing everything right to develop her self-esteem and positive racial identity. We overloaded her toy box with black dolls. We carefully monitored the racial content of our TV shows and videos, ruling out Song of the South and Dumbo, two classic Disney movies marred by demeaning black stereotypes. But we saw no harm in Pinocchio, which seemed as racially benign as Sesame Street or Barney, and a good deal more engaging. Yet now our daughter was saying she wanted to be white, to be like the puppet who becomes a real boy in the movie. How had she got that potentially soul-destroying idea and, even more important, what should we do about it?
That episode was an unsettling re-minder of the unique burden that haunts hck parents in America: helping their children come to terms with being black m a country where the message too often
to be that being white is better. Developing a healthy self-image would difficult enough for black children with all the real-life reminders that Macks and whites are still treated differ-cNly But it is made even harder by the seductive racial bias in TV, movies and Mildren s books, which seem to link ^erything beautiful and alluring with wMteness while often treating blacks as aftenhoughts. Growing up in this all fading world of whiteness can be Psychologically exhausting for black children just as th