African Communitarianism as Black Student Motivation: An Institutional Exploration of Collectivism in African-Centered Education A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED TO THE FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF MINNESOTA BY Bodunrin Oluwagbingus Banwo IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY Dr. Peter Demerath, Advisor May, 2020 © Bodunrin O. Banwo, 2020 Dedication This dissertation is dedicated to my dad, Bodunrin A. Banwo, who is no longer with us in physical form, but is with us every day in spirit and memory; my mom, Patricia Ann Banwo, who has been a consistent foundation of support and care. She was the first person I knew to fight for herself, her family, and her people, uncompromisingly. No matter the consequences or danger, watching her sue for racial discrimination as a child was an education that guided my life and understanding of who I am. This work is also dedicated to my two brothers, Charles Tunday Foster and Adedayo A. W. Banwo. Both of these men are inspirations and were instrumental in the building of me. Also my aunts and uncle, Mary, Linda, Robert Earl, Renee and Courtney: Your love and uncompromising care was special and incredible. I take your love with me wherever I go. And finally, to everyone in the Nickles, Gibbons, Marshall and Banwo families, especially the ancestors: Amelia Easter, Robert Earl, Robert Lee, Mary Elizabeth, Bodunrin, Samuel Gibbon, Mary Nickles, Lisa Gibbons and Mary Gibbons... and the many, many others I am not listing here, particularly those who died of violence in north Florida, fighting for what you believed was right, whose souls are not at rest, and whose voices have not been heard. I hope with the little time I have on this earth that I can speak for you and, I hope, provide you some sense of peace and respite from a world that saw you as less than disposable. I pray that I can carry the load, for which you have so graciously passed, by simply allowing me to be in this world. My mission is your mission, my life is your life, and my works will forever be on the shoulders of your work. i An Introspection A principal advantage of an Afrocentric approach is that it compels the researcher to challenge the use of the traditional Eurocentric research criteria of objectivity, reliability, and validity in the inquiry process. The researcher is expected to examine and to place in the foreground of the inquiry any and all subjectivities or societal baggage that would otherwise remain hidden and, hence, covertly influence the research activity (Reviere, 2001, p. 710). I was born in the 1980s but came of age in the 1990s, a period of time that seems to be oddly romanticized. From my point of view, it was a time defined by what had occurred before, the height of the boomers’ civil rights victory laps. Never mind they were buying into the neoliberal consciousness that, yes, celebrated their hard fight for racial inclusion (Ali at the ‘96 summer games), but simultaneously failed to protect their children from being criminalized and forced into the school-to-prison pipeline. I sense when people look back at the 1990s, there is a perception of a multicultural movement, a longing for the feeling of optimism, a return to the hope that we had, that this “race” thing could and would be solved one day. Perhaps because I was a teenager during this time, I think many of those people overlook the very dark forces that undergirded American society at that time. It was not a great decade for many people; it was a dark, frightful time, and the genesis of many issues that we face today. I come from a political family that has been involved in the Black freedom struggle in Florida since emancipation. As a child, this legacy was imprinted upon me by the elders of my social group. ii My early years were characterized by a dynamic intergenerational kinship through an African-centered lens. These men and women, many of them members of the Nation of Islam, Moorish Science Temple, and the Black Panthers, encouraged us (the youth) to begin to examine our position as black people in a world that saw blackness in a particular light. This early introduction into a revolutionary consciousness led me to be socialized to understand the world in a particular Black ideological view. My participation in radical black spaces as a child was probably one of the most informative social encounters I experienced. These men and women socialized my friends and me into seeing the world through an African lens. We were encouraged to learn about ourselves, to visually perceive ourselves as a part of the black global freedom struggle. Moreover, we were instructed to use history as a tool to plan and envision our future selves. The community leaders of my youth wanted to ground us in the past in order for us to carry our legacy forward. I cannot overemphasize how important it was for me to be socialized into the thinking that “ourselves,” our persons, our bodies were in service to beloved ancestors. This notion of ancestral worship was probably one of the most profound things from my childhood that I hold dear and carry forward and hope to one day pass along. Another one of my orientation moments was my discovery, and embracing of 1990s Hip Hop, mainly gangsta rap. Gangsta rap, even for black kids in Florida, became an outlet for adolescent boys to express some kind of frustration or descent to the prevailing order. Gangsta rap artists who dressed like me, looked like me, and spoke like me were hated by the broader society “just like me.” In many ways, this music encouraged me to think about the world as a Black man and see though the multicultural iii façade that was so overwhelming during the ‘90s. Where, during this time, were national leaders forcefully identifying what we now call the “school-to-prison pipeline,” or where, during the 1990s, were the leaders identifying police brutality? Instead, we got old, black civil rights leaders condemning artists who were identifying significant problems in the Black community. This condemnation fueled a schism between generations, and for me, began my disillusionment with boomers and their privileged position in the black political imagination. I still feel a sense of abandonment by boomers, and I still feel their judgment and criticism of my cultural productions. They failed to protect us! Todd Boyd (2008), in his book African Americans and Popular Culture, describes the schism in terms of sports: “I think Jordan is the symbolic fulfillment of the civil rights movement, which has assimilation, accommodation and mainstream access as its ultimate goals. Hip-hop NBA players are symbolic of the current era, in which the ultimate goal is nonconformity and cultural insurgency” (Boyd, 2008, p. 15). Which goal has won out? I have watched since the early 1990s these political and cultural leaders fail to deliver for African Americans. I have watched these leaders speak of the American project, while watching black institutions fall into despair, while those same leaders move their kids into safe white spaces. Having been a part of several independent black institutions, I have been able to witness black leadership exercise notions of black self-determination. Schools, universities, neighborhoods and histories were all elements of that struggle, a struggle I find myself encountering today through my work with African-centered schools. iv Acknowledgements I would like to acknowledge my advisor and the members of my committee, Peter Demerath, Muhammad Khalifa, Tania Mitchell, Nicola Alexander, and Keith Mayes. Your hard work, help, and encouragement has been invaluable to me through this process. THANK YOU. I also would like to thank the African-centered schools and leaders, who took me in, watched over me and helped me finish this research. It was you who made this dissertation possible, and it was you who allowed me so much freedom to explore, spread out, and tell our story in such a deep and powerful way. THANK YOU. And a special THANK YOU to the Babas and Mamas who supported me along this journey: Baba Kofi Lomotey, Baba Molefi Kete Asante, Baba Fundi Sanyika Anwisye, Mama Joyce Piert, Mama Bernida Thompson, Mama Rasheki Kuykendall, Baba Kwaw Lester, Baba Andrew DuBois, Mama Jocelyn Mills, and Mama Alecia Blackwood. In the spirit of Asante, I would also like to thank the children and other Babas and Mamas who participated in this research. THANK YOU. And to my friends, Brothers Ezekiel Joubert and Rashad Williams, and to my friend Courtney Bell — thank you for always having my back. Also to Tiffany L. Smith, Shakita Thomas, Brandon Higgins and the rest of my doctoral cohort, I don’t think I could have had a better group of amazing colleagues and friends. Good luck on the rest of your journey. Also Sherri Hildebrandt for helping with the copy edit. And finally to the people I did not name: Know you are in my thoughts and prayers. THANK YOU! v Abstract The dissertation presented is an examination of two African-centered educational institutions that are serving as a formal agent of student socialization. Moreover, these schools’ ideological foundation of Black Nationalism and Pan Africanism is a response to the harmful practice of socialization in the broader society. These schools, through their incorporation of radical politics, are an effort to understand and address the “inequality regimes” that surround black children in mainstream educational systems. Further, the politics of African centered schools are upfront, talked about, and visible for all to see, which the leaders regard as a process of socialization that orient black children into a process of white supremacy visibilization.