Take FIve Farewell Commentaries & Letters

From "Fade to Black" Take Five's Final Issue / Feb. 2003

Jamala Rogers, political organizer, columnist

At an early age, I discovered the power of words. The spoken word raised emotion and imparted knowledge, but it was the written word that seemed to emblazon its imprint on the total person—their very heart, soul and mind. I came to understand in a more profound way the phrase "the pen is mightier than the sword". And when you understand the value of words, you begin to treat them very differently. I believe Take Five also understood the power, the value and the impact of words.

It is with almost unspeakable sadness that I try to fashion words befitting of Take Five Magazine’s last issue. It’s not unlike a eulogy of a loved one who has been snatched from our lives. The tendency is to selfishly think about the ways that one will personally suffer from the loss. That is, until you come full circle to realize that it is the life that must become center stage and celebrated, not the end. So we must gather to bring the songs and dance of celebration. It is our collective responsibility to ensure not only Take Five’s place in the sun, but also its place in history.

The voice of the black press has been an undeniable and extricable part of black struggle. Despite the human cost of learning to read and write while slaves in this country, the need to communicate was too compelling for our people -- then, and now. Take Five is a part of that mighty continuum. The role of the black press seems to have changed little: warning our people, celebrating our triumphs, summing up our failures, analyzing our perspectives, criticizing our decisions, inspiring our struggles. The staff and contributing writers of Take Five have done this and more. The desire to facilitate dialogue often spilled onto the hosting of roundtables, workshops and seminars. One could tell that the mission was as much giving direction as it was to giving information.

In this current period of growing censorship and misinformation, the role of a black, independent voice has even greater significance. We have certainly taken for granted that Take Five would always be with us, that its political perspective on any given issue that affected people of African descent would always be forthcoming. I appreciate your taking on the difficult, unpopular issues of the day with the same zeal and eloquence as the non-controversial topics. You should know that you have cleared a roughed path for whoever takes your baton. What may have started as a small dream of Sylvester Brown’s has broadened to become our own vision and expectation of the black press.

It seems almost trite to thank you for what you have given us and for the sacrifices you have made as publisher and staff. In retrospect, I can compare Take Five to a meteor whose destiny and life expectancy is unknown. The dictionary further defines meteor as "observable directly only when it falls into the earth’s atmosphere where friction may cause its temporary incandescence." You came into our lives and brought us light for fifteen years. Given all the circumstances, that was no small feat. I, for one, am grateful to have been a part of the experience.

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Ed Bishop, Editor / 

St. Louis Journalism Review

I’m white and 58 years old. I grew up in the segregated, working-class suburb of Jennings. Back then, by the tortured logic of the 1950s, poor whites in Jennings raised their self-esteem with racism. My mother and some of my family still live in Jennings. They have slowly, grudgingly come to the conclusion that working-class whites have more in common with working-class blacks than they do with rich white people. I currently live in one of the best-integrated neighborhoods in St. Louis -- on Pershing Avenue in Skinker-DeBalivere. In the 1980s, I was the managing editor of the Riverfront Times. For the last nine years, I have been the editor of the St. Louis Journalism Review and on the journalism faculty at Webster University.

I tell you all this as background for what I’m about to say: I learned more about the political relationship between blacks and whites in St. Louis by reading Take Five than by any other single experience. The reporting about the relationship has always been insightful, tough but fair and -- I’m going to use a word rarely associated with journalism -- caring. Other publications might have been louder but none as passionate about the political situations that bind us together and pull us apart.

Besides -- setting race aside -- Take Five produced good journalism. In fact, even with its limited resources, on many occasions it produced the best journalism in town on a particular topic -- better than the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, the St. Louis American and the Riverfront Times. For example, its reporting on the early months of the Francis Slay administration -- contrasting it to other administrations -- has yet to be equaled.

At its heart, journalism is simply good writing. Clear thinking is at the heart of writing. It follows then that Take Five contained the clearest thinking in the region. No single publication in St. Louis has produced such consistently well-thought-out and therefore good writing over the years. Sylvester Brown and his staff wrote -- and I trust will continue to write -- in a voice that clearly, analytically and forcefully spoke to the people of St. Louis. It will be missed.

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Eric E. Vickers / Attorney / Community Activist

Even as I write this farewell tribute, I find myself not able to be unmindful of the war in Iraq that rages around and through us.  Defining moments in history I think come in all sizes.  As we enter a world of seeming dominance by sheer might, we also enter a world that cries out ever more for the just voice of a Take Five.  It is a voice that I have no doubt will live beyond the mortality of the paper.

The voice of Take Five has been the voice of those not commonly heard, those whose side of the story never gets told, and those whose mission is opposed.  That it has simply survived for 15 years is a testimony to the sheer tenacity and the indelible spirit of Sylvester Brown.

Over a decade ago, Sylvester birthed not so much a publication as a point of view.  Through the stylish and rhythmic reporting of Take Five, he resonated the in-depth, intelligent and knowledgeable voice of the black community that finds itself satisfied with neither its treatment nor its place in this city.  Like Thomas Paine's publication "Common Sense" -- which gave guidance and inspiration to the common people who revolted against the British in the American Revolution -- Take Five has been the manifesto for those seeking change.

We give heartfelt thanks and awesome props to Sylvester Brown.  Although we mourn the passing of Take Five, we know that this is merely a pause to permit the sound of its message to hit a higher note.

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Lizz Brown, community activist, attorney and talk show host of “The Wake Up Call”

What do you say when someone you love past your heart is leaving?  “Goodbye” is wrong because I don’t want it to happen. “Good luck” doesn’t work because when you love really hard you can become selfish.  “I’ll see you” does not fit because it is not true.

Take Five will be no more.

I cannot begin to wrap my mind around the finality of that statement.  I don’t want to think about how exposed our community will be when black armor is removed.

This is not just the loss of a newspaper.  Newspapers shut down all over America all of the time.  This is the loss of a Black newspaper -- it’s different.

The responsibility placed upon a Black newspaper is awesome.  A Black newspaper takes a literary blood oath with their community.  Our newspapers swear to tend responsibly to the issues of our community.  Their job is to expose what is wrong, denounce what is harmful and celebrate all of the glory that the African community brings forth.

We live in an amazing city.  Here, where we live, racial assaults are lobbed with relentless intensity.   Indeed, if hate, fury and intolerance directed at the African community were bombs, St. Louis would be the Baghdad of America.  Every day we, the members of the African community, awaken to find yet another story about us told untruthfully.  Every week we see our stories prettied up in order to be sacrificed on the alter of corporate greed and self-loathing.

In this city we had to hold out and wait for that one day a month when Take Five came out.   We knew that on that one day the truth would be told, our community would be informed and we would know in print what was really happening in our community.

 No one would have known the horror of police brutality if they hadn’t seen the pictures and read the story in Take Five about Gregory Bell.   A mother would still be banging on the door of a racist circuit attorney’s office trying to get her baby back -- if Take Five hadn’t written about Yemane Hughes. 

Take Five Magazine fearlessly and with a huge heart took on the stories in print that no one else cared about.  Take Five Magazine investigated stories that no one else had an interest in.  Take Five Magazine did what they were entrusted to do -- be a Black newspaper.

Sylvester, Vicki you are my heroes, Take Five will be missed, you are much loved -- and I still can’t say goodbye.

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My Father’s Legacy 

By Sylvester T. Brown, III

(Sylvester, better known in the Take Five family as “Tye,” is the 17-year-old son of Take Five’s publisher.  He makes his writing debut in this final edition.)

15 years ago a magazine was created.  Composed by geniuses, the magazine was a true diamond in the rough.  The publication is, of course, what you’re now holding, Take Five Magazine. Being that my father is the man who created this magazine my bond with it is quite strong. While growing up, I always hoped that the world would wake up and realize the brilliance of this publication. Many times I witnessed the strain that it put on its creators and wished that it would finally end.  I look at the situation that Take Five is currently in and I can only feel sorrow, not for the magazine or its creators but for each and every person who passed on the chance to read it. This magazine is, in my opinion, true art.  If given the correct opportunity, it could have been the Black version of Time or Newsweek or even greater.

Equality in our society was not created for people of color. Do you really think George Bush, Jr. would be our president if it weren’t for his connections?  Truth be told, our society is based on who you know, and since the ultimate authority on this planet tends to be White males, our society is based on race.

Our country, the so-called land of opportunity, is built for the progression of anyone. That’s only true, however, if you’re under White supervision.  Don’t believe me? Lets take a look at our biggest Black franchises.  Def Jam? White owned. BET? White owned.  FUBU? White owned.  These are just a few of the biggest companies created and operated by Black hands, now owned by Whites.  It’s apparent that White America wants from us. Black culture (mainly Black entertainment) is what America demands.  Just look at some of the most popular Black television shows such as the “Bernie Mac Show,” “The Proud Family,” “My Wife and Kids.”  America tolerates our comedy because they think our lifestyle is a joke.  Yet, when they watch a movie that portrays some form of the hard-knock life, they pretend it’s exaggerated.

Sometimes it seems as if all that is expected of us is comedy and Hip Hop.  When we talk about serious Black issues, they are ignored by the masses.  Take, for example, the rule at Union Station that forbids people from entering the plaza with a wave cap or doo-rag on.  Has anything really changed? Union Station’s success with the rule has even inspired other malls, such as Northwest Plaza, to create and put in place similar rules that effect mostly young Black people.

 The only Black publications making money these days are the ones that follow the preset stereotypes promoting the idea that money, women, and jewels make the world turn for Black entertainers.  In truth, many rappers, actors, and producers are concerned about reinvesting in the community and other positive endeavors. But our entertainers’ true ideas are generally silenced by the record companies, magazines, and television stations that misrepresent them. That’s why we need magazines like Take Five.  We needed it to reach out to the misinformed.  We needed it for those people who believed that life is just about rap.  We needed it to teach them that they shouldn’t exchange their beautiful souls in favor of thug life. This what they expect from us, this is what they want from us.  They want us to idolize rap like it’s the only thing our culture has ever created.

I, along with many others, have suggested that Take Five should have more entertainment and more hip-hop.  I now know that this idea was the very opposite of what my dad wanted to do; he didn’t want to follow the stereotype that almost every big Black publication does.  He didn’t want to talk about what rappers were beefin' about.  As a Black publication, he wanted to take Take Five above and beyond the stereotype set for Black publications.  He wanted to talk about the important issues in our community. Unfortunately that community never listened.  But my father has accomplished his dream in many ways.  He’s put writers on the map, he’s inspired people to take action, and he has inspired me to write.  My father’s dream is in no way a failure, for his reach into our community still lives and his dream will forever live on through the many people who believed in him.

*************

I remember you doing my first (modeling) photo shoot, when no one else
believed that the African attire spread, sponsored by the Elephant Walk, was worth the time-of-day.  You gave my girlfriend & I a chance.  That meant so much to us. 

We are very sadden to here of your departure but enlightened that you will be writing books that will continue to inspire, alert & educate our community.

May god bless you in all of your new endeavors.

Good luck!

Ms. Stephanie Walker / Ms. Denise Hennings

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 The lizard man feels deep regret for the words exchanged between our e-mails.

In too many ways this publication has made lizard man a better person.  I just want you to know that lizard man apologies for his words and actions. The lizard man now regrets burning so many Take Fives.  The lizard man loves you and all that you stand for and he hopes to see you in person.

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I first want to let you know that I will truly miss the magazine Take Five.  I used to love talking with you at Afrocentric Bookstore from time to time.  You did a very nice show with Deneen Busy & Keith Antone last Sunday.  I'm happy to say that I do have a few Take Five Magazines and I'll keep them for souvenirs.

Many Blessings & Spiritual Peace!

Gail Johnson, Senior Marketing & Sales Associate Prism Communications Systems, Inc.

 

 THANK YOU

For your in-depth coverage of community issues;

For not shying away from controversy;

For taking a stand on issues of peace and justice;

For having a broad view of what is of interest to our community;

For covering neighborhood, local, national and international issues;

For providing an alternative to the mainstream press;

For fifteen years of dedication and hard work;

St. Louis will miss your presence dearly.

Sincerely, Mira Tanna, Education and Research Coordinator, Metropolitan St. Louis Equal Housing Opportunity Council