One Internet, Two Nations
By HENRY LOUIS GATES JR.
C
AMBRIDGE, Mass. -- After the Stono Rebellion
of 1739 in South Carolina -- the largest uprising of
slaves in the colonies before
the American Revolution
-- legislators there responded
by banishing two forms
of communication among the
slaves: the mastery of
reading and writing, and
the mastery of "talking drums,"
both of which had been crucial
to the capacity to rebel.
For the next century and
a half, access to literacy
became for the slaves a
hallmark of their humanity and
an instrument of liberation,
spiritual as well as
physical. The relation between
freedom and literacy
became the compelling theme
of the slave narratives,
the great body of printed
books that ex-slaves generated
to assert their common humanity
with white Americans
and to indict the system
that had oppressed them.
In the years since the abolition
of slavery, the
possession of literacy has
been a cardinal value of the
African-American tradition.
It is no accident that the
first great victory in the legal
battle over segregation
was fought on the grounds of
education -- of equal access
to literacy.
Today, blacks are failing
to gain access to the new
tools of literacy: the digital
"knowledge economy." And
while the dilemma that our
ancestors confronted was
imposed by others, this
cybersegregation is, to a large
degree, self-imposed.
The Government's latest attempt
to understand why
low-income African-Americans
and Hispanics are
slower to embrace the Internet
and the personal
computer than whites --
the Commerce Department
study "Falling Through the
Net" -- suggests that income
alone can't be blamed for
the so-called digital divide.
For example, among families
earning $15,000 to
$35,000 annually, more than
33 percent of whites own
computers, compared with
only 19 percent of
African-Americans -- a gap
that has widened 64
percent over the past five
years despite declining
computer prices.
The implications go far beyond
on-line trading and chat
rooms. Net promoters are
concerned that the digital
divide threatens to become
a 21st century poll tax that,
in effect, disenfranchises
a third of the nation. Our
children, especially, need
access not only to the vast
resources that technology
offers for education, but also
to the rich cultural contexts
that define their place in the
world.
Today we stand at the brink
of becoming two societies,
one largely white and plugged
in and the other black
and unplugged.
One of the most tragic aspects
of slavery was the way it
destroyed social connections.
In a process that the sociologist
Orlando Patterson calls
"social death," slavery
sought to sever blacks from
their history and culture,
from family ties and a sense of
community. And, of course,
de jure segregation after the
Civil War was intended to
disconnect blacks from
equal economic opportunity,
from the network of social
contacts that enable upward
mobility and, indeed, from
the broader world of ideas.
Despite the dramatic growth
of the black middle class
since affirmative action
programs were started in the
late 60's, new forms of
disconnectedness have afflicted
black America. Middle-class
professionals often feel
socially and culturally
isolated from their white peers
at work and in the neighborhood
and from their black
peers left behind in the
underclass. The children of the
black underclass, in turn,
often lack middle-class role
models to help them connect
to a history of achievement
and develop their analytical
skills.
It would be a sad irony if
the most diverse and
decentralized electronic
medium yet invented should
fail to achieve ethnic diversity
among its users. And yet
the Commerce Department
study suggests that the
solution will require more
than cheap PC's. It will
involve content.
Until recently, the African-American
presence on the
Internet was minimal, reflecting
the chicken-and-egg
nature of Internet economics.
Few investors have been
willing to finance sites
appealing to a PC-scarce
community.
Few African-Americans have
been compelled to sign
on to a medium that offers
little to interest them.
And educators interested
in diversity have repeatedly
raised concerns about the
lack of minority-oriented
educational software.
C onsider the birth of the
recording industry in the
1920's. Blacks began to
respond to this new medium
only when mainstream companies
like Columbia
Records introduced so-called
race records, blues and
jazz discs aimed at a nascent
African-American market.
Blacks who would never have
dreamed of spending
hard-earned funds for a
record by Rudy Vallee or Kate
Smith would stand in lines
several blocks long to
purchase the new Bessie
Smith or Duke Ellington hit.
New content made the new medium attractive.
And the growth of Web sites
dedicated to the interests
and needs of black Americans
can play the same role
for the Internet that race
records did for the music
industry.
But even making sites that
will appeal to a black
audience can only go so
far.
The causes of poverty are
both structural and
behavioral.
And it is the behavioral
aspect of this cybersegregation
that blacks themselves are
best able to address.
Drawing on corporate and
foundation support, we can
transform the legion of
churches, mosques and
community centers in our
inner cities into after-school
centers that focus on redressing
the digital divide and
teaching black history.
We can draw on the many
examples of black achievement
in structured classes to
re-establish a sense of
social connection.
The Internet is the 21st
century's talking drum, the very
kind of grass-roots communication
tool that has been
such a powerful source of
education and culture for our
people since slavery. But
this talking drum we have not
yet learned to play. Unless
we master the new
information technology to
build and deepen the forms of
social connection that a
tragic history has eroded,
African-Americans will face
a form of
cybersegregation in the
next century as devastating to
our aspirations as Jim Crow
segregation was to those
of our ancestors. But this
time, the fault will be our
own.
Henry Louis Gates Jr.,
chairman of the
Afro-American Studies
Department at Harvard
University, is co-editor
of Encarta
Africana