BALL OF CONFUSION: BUT TO THE ONE WHO ENDURES

A MESSAGE FROM  THE PUBLISHER

By Bobby R. Henry, Sr.

 “Ball of confusion, that’s what the world is today.”

More than half a century ago, The Temptations put those words to music. It was 1970, but turn on the television, scroll through your phone, read the newspaper, or simply listen to the conversations around the kitchen table today, and you might wonder whether they were singing about 2026.

Because America once again feels like a ball of confusion. Political confusion. Racial confusion. Economic confusion. Moral confusion.

We are approaching another critical election season while congressional boundaries are being redrawn and challenged, voting laws are changing, misinformation clouds the political landscape, and Black voters are once again asking a question generations before us were forced to ask:

       Will our vote—and our voice—still count?

Across the country, redistricting battles are reshaping districts containing substantial Black populations, with potentially significant consequences for Black political representation. (Ballotpedia⁠)

And while politicians argue over maps, districts, parties and power, Black families continue burying their loved ones.

That is another part of the confusion we cannot ignore.

Recent events have again placed police use of deadly force against Black Americans before the nation. In Madison, Wisconsin, 38-year-old Corey Ruiz was fatally shot by police in July during an encounter that authorities say involved a knife and an injured officer. His family, represented by civil-rights attorney Ben Crump, disputes the justification for the shooting and is demanding accountability. The Wisconsin Department of Justice is investigating. (AP News⁠)

We should allow investigations to determine the facts of individual cases. But we cannot investigate away the larger numbers.

Mapping Police Violence reported that, as of its July 6 update, police had killed 663 people in America during 2026 and that Black Americans were 2.8 times more likely than white Americans to be killed by police. (Mapping Police Violence⁠)

And the violence consuming Black communities extends far beyond encounters with police.

A Violence Policy Center report released last month found that Black Americans represented 52.2 percent of U.S. homicide victims in the latest national data analyzed, despite representing only 13.7 percent of the population. More than 84 percent of those Black homicide victims were killed with guns. (Violence Policy Center⁠)

Those numbers should disturb every American.

Because whether the bullet comes from a police officer, a stranger, a neighbor, a gang member, a domestic dispute or another Black person, a Black mother still cries.

A child still loses a father. A father still buries a son. A community still loses another piece of itself.

And somewhere in Washington, Tallahassee, a statehouse or a city hall, politicians continue arguing about who gets what seat.

Ball of confusion.

We are fighting each other over Democrats and Republicans while too many of our children are dying.

We are debating personalities instead of policies.

We are allowing social media algorithms to tell us whom to hate.

We are watching political districts being manipulated while too many eligible voters never make it to the polls.

We complain that politicians don’t listen to us yet sometimes we fail to use the most powerful peaceful weapon our ancestors fought to place in our hands: the ballot.

Our grandparents faced literacy tests. Our ancestors faced poll taxes and other forms of disengagements.

People were threatened, beaten, and murdered simply for attempting to register Black citizens to vote.

Fannie Lou Hamer was beaten. John Lewis had his skull fractured. Medgar Evers was murdered. Harry and Harriette Moore were killed when a bomb exploded beneath their bedroom.

And countless others whose names never made the history books stood in lines, marched down roads, registered neighbors, and refused to surrender.

       They endured.

Which brings us from The Temptations to Scripture. Jesus said in Matthew 24:13: “But he that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved.”

Those words were spoken in the context of difficult days times of deception, conflict, betrayal, and uncertainty.

Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

But endurance does not mean sitting quietly and waiting for things to get better.

Endurance is active.

Endurance registers to vote. Endurance studies the candidates. Endurance attends commission meetings. Endurance challenges unjust laws. Endurance holds police accountable while also holding our own communities accountable. Endurance mentors a child before the streets recruit him. Endurance supports Black businesses. Endurance protects Black history when others attempt to erase it. Endurance demands better schools. Endurance puts down the gun. Endurance picks up the ballot. And endurance understands something especially important during this political season:

We do not have to agree on everything to understand that our survival requires us to participate in something.

Black people are not politically monolithic. We should question Democrats. We should question Republicans. We should question independents. We should question anybody asking for our vote.

No political party owns Black people.

Our allegiance must be to principles justice, opportunity, education, economic empowerment, public safety, voting rights and the future of our children.

So yes, America may be a ball of confusion. But Black America has been here before.

We survived slavery. We survived Reconstruction’s betrayal. We survived Jim Crow. We survived lynching. We survived segregation. We survived being told where we could live, where we could eat, where we could attend school and whether we could vote.

And every time America tried to convince us that the darkness would last forever, somebody among us kept walking.

Somebody kept praying. Somebody kept organizing. Somebody kept voting. Somebody endured.

That responsibility belongs to us now. The question is no longer simply, “What in the world is going on?”

The more important question is: What are we going to do about it?

When confusion surrounds us, we must become clearer. When hatred becomes louder, we must become stronger. When people attempt to divide us, we must become more determined.

And when despair whispers that nothing we do matters, remember those who came before us.

They endured so that we could stand here.

Now we must endure so that somebody can stand after us.

Ball of confusion? Yes.

But to the one who endures there is still hope.

A positive paper for a positive people

The post BALL OF CONFUSION: BUT TO THE ONE WHO ENDURES appeared first on The Westside Gazette.