By Sam McKenzie, Special to the AFRO

I interviewed for a post in state government under the Hogan administration in September of last year. When I arrived at the waiting room, I noticed a photo of then-current Governor Larry Hogan and Lieutenant Governor Boyd Rutherford.

As I stood there staring at his portrait in a state building, I pondered if, given my political beliefs, I could work in his government. Hogan’s shot was somewhat higher up, as expected, while Rutherford’s was lower down.

We’ve seen that photo arrangement before in Maryland history. We witnessed that with Ehrlich and Steele, as well as O’Malley and Brown. In Maryland, it’s been a successful combination for both Democrats and Republicans. That photo arrangement also depicts a racial and gendered Maryland hierarchy.

Voters broke ranks with part of that pattern with the election of Wes Moore, Maryland’s first Black governor. Today, a photo of a Black man appears first and somewhat higher. I assume many Black voters’ moods are little higher today, and justifiably so. The partial departure from the prior photo layout is noteworthy for all Marylanders as well as the rest of the country.

Derrick Bell, who passed away, said, “Even the poorest Whites, who must live their lives only a few levels above, gain their self-esteem by gazing down on us,” in the start of his best-selling book, “Faces at the Bottom of the Well.” We can show that by placing Black faces even a tiny bit lower than itself, White prejudice may relax. However, White racists will also need to look up to Governor Wes Moore for the ensuing four years.

For us, the new photographs of Governor Wes Moore and Lieutenant Governor Aruna Miller in state buildings are more than symbolic. “Can’t you feel the fresh air?” Now, the state is led by a Black guy born in 1978, just like me.

My governor’s race provides him with a connection, genuineness, and likeability with me that no pollster asking who I’d like to have a beer with can quantify. As a Black guy of Moore’s age, I stroll around these Baltimore streets feeling that I could’ve been or could be governor as well.

Finally, someone who, like me, wore Guess or Cross Colours in the 1990s lives in the Governor’s Mansion. I know my governor had a fro at some time in his life, and I’m sure he understands all about the Black barbershop experience.

At the same age, we witnessed Rodney King, Malcolm X, and the O.J. trial. I’m sure my governor heard similar discussions on racism in America as I did. And I’d like to think my governor and I share musical tastes, spiritual beliefs, and palates. In Maryland, state power is in Black hands at the highest levels, and those Black hands are from my generation.

History demonstrates that state power is not simply any power. State authority has the potential to make or ruin you.

When the great sociologist Tressie McMillan Cottom says, “Whiteness can only be defined by state power,” she is referring to the making done by state authority. It necessitates a legal framework capable of formalizing irrational biological manifestations and justifying them.

It requires a legal system capable of adjudicating the arbitrary inclusion and exclusion of persons over time. Above all, Whiteness need a police state capable of using deadly force to maintain its sovereignty.

State authority has always had ramifications. It is never impartial. It makes a difference whether governmental authority works for or against you. In his book “The Machinery of Whiteness,” Steve Martinot describes the shattering done by state authority, saying, “Domination is always a social relation whose existence requires a state for its continuation.” Without a state, the oppressed flee and seek independent means of existence for themselves.”

With all of the joy and relationships, we also realize that state power in Black hands is not always or inherently empowering for Black people. I shouldn’t have to mention any names. You are already aware.

Historically, the appeal for “Black power” did not refer to any sort of Black power. We must evaluate the goals and intentions of persons in positions of governmental authority. Fortunately, Moore has stated his intentions for using state authority. “Leave no one behind,” his campaign motto, and he spoke of “work, wages, and wealth.”

There is no question that if Moore’s programs is implemented, Black people will prosper. However, I am afraid that it will not be sufficient for pressing requirements. I’m disturbed that our state’s first Black governor did not conduct a campaign that addressed where Black Marylanders live.

“Leave no one behind” struck a chord with voters. When I asked my mother why she voted for Wes Moore, she answered, “His campaign slogan piqued my interest.” There have been so many individuals left behind for decades.”

That comes from a woman with a high B.S. detector. She could tell when I was lying, musty, or hadn’t washed my hands. Her political instincts are no less good. Like my mother, I comprehend the history, emotion, and application of the phrase “Leave no one behind.” It functions as a broad and helpful creed.

However, “leave no one behind” is insufficient as a conceptual foundation for a government seeking fruitful and long-term reform. Former President George W. Bush implemented a strategy called “No Child Left Behind.” Some opponents now consider “No Child Left Behind” to be a policy failure.

Perhaps the problem with “No Child Left Behind” was not so much the attitude as it was the approach it took. Moore’s “Leave no one behind” depicts a horizontal layout that Black Marylanders lack and do not like. Like the images of the Lieutenant Governor, Black Marylanders are not behind, but under.

We’re being watched by helicopters, blue lights, and street cameras. We are under-resourced and under-funded. We live beneath deteriorating roofs and in devalued houses. Bullets and inflation are attacking us. We are overworked and underpaid. We are under arrest, and our leadership is weak, resulting in more of the same.

Being “beneath” or “under” does not imply being “left behind.” Someone who is “falling behind” must catch up. Someone who is “beneath” requires what is above and on them to leave them alone. Your approach will be determined by how you view it.

A “behind the scenes” approach looks for programs and help. A “beneath” approach seeks justice and change. A “behind” method may close gaps gradually and gradually. A “beneath” strategy will dismantle and organize the state’s affairs as quickly as practicable. One is a preventative measure, while the other is a game changer.

Moore has stated on several occasions that Maryland is “asset rich but strategy poor.” Because my mother like it, “leave no one behind” may be the public face. But we need a different tactic behind closed doors. The distinction between behind and under must be made apparent inside the Moore Administration.

Allow the Moore plan to be closer to Frantz Fanon’s view of “the last shall be first, and the first shall be last” behind closed doors. I hope Moore’s method is similar to Reverend Al’s, “Get your knees off our necks!”

In other words, I need my Black governor to be anti-racist as well. Moore, without a doubt, recognizes that many Marylanders are ahead of us and on top of us as a result of White racism. I don’t believe it’s too much to hope that the person who broke that history is also interested in rewriting it.

The aim is not to catch up with the riches of White prejudice. We require the restitution that is due for being on top of us. It’s the difference between saying “let me help you” (behind) and saying “let me get this out of your way” (beneath).

Moore has done a lot of “let me help you” work based on his employment history. Moore was the CEO of the Robin Hood Foundation before becoming governor. Moore should be an advocate for Maryland’s NGOs in terms of programs, financing, and assistance.

I, like Moore, have experience dealing with charities. I’ve been in the people-helping business for almost 20 years. I hope Moore, like me, realized that nonprofit organizations cannot and should not achieve what only the state can. Nonprofits have no state power.

Indeed, many NGOs exist because the government refuses to do what it should. Nonprofit organizations cannot fundamentally repair the damage caused by state policy. No one should expect a nonprofit to solve the societal issues on which it relies for financing. So, in addition to job training programs and all else the state has to provide, Black Marylanders are entitled to monetary compensation.

The days of running an Underground Railroad when many, but not all, people got free are passed. We require complete liberation in the form of monetary compensation once and for all. And it bothers me that Moore’s position on reparations is unknown.

When questioned about reparations during a gubernatorial debate, Moore did not mention the term. So why not? I’m sick of trying to read between the lines and hope for the best. The reparations debate is not going away. There is no doubt about that. However, whether Maryland will soon serve as a pudding full of proof is an open topic.

I hope Moore does not abandon us to the whims of Annapolis. We require executive advocacy and action on reparations. Will Moore, like California’s governor, establish a panel to distribute reparations? I hope so, but it’s not apparent.

Moore’s “work, wages, and wealth” also seem to stem from the same place as “leave no one behind.” The alliteration “work, wages, and wealth” can be used as a guide. Repair the damage. Fix the pay. People get affluent. Great. It’s a three-word sentence that transitions you from labor to prosperity.

However, history taints broad ideals: Black Marylanders should not be forced to work. Work should not be required for Black Marylanders to survive. Isn’t this the how capitalism and generational riches operate? Work is optional for the beneficiaries of capitalism and generational riches. It should be the same for those who have suffered from generational poverty and injustice. Rather of waiting and wading through work and salaries, the folks who were passed over should now be skipping to the bank and the riches section. Moore is a newbie to politics, and many of us aspire to be newcomers to money.

That is why it will be a tragedy and a disgrace if Democratic control of Annapolis does not result in restitution this time. My governor is Black this time. I used to reside in Montgomery County, just like Moore. I know Maryland to be a wealthy state in general. And now, as a Baltimorean, I need Annapolis to understand that if this administration does not reform Maryland’s largest city, it will be another Democratic failure. My governor is Black this time.

We need Maryland’s money to be distributed throughout the state, and only monetary reparations can do this. Democrats in Maryland have no excuse for not getting it right this time. My governor is Black this time. I understand that my governor’s race is insufficient. Over time, Moore’s policies and his use of power will matter more.

Politicians frequently establish policies and wield power depending on their social standing. They claim that your position dictates your perception. Moore’s race is a significant shift in the post, but his gender is not. I’m curious what it would be like to write about my governor being a Black woman.

I know one thing: Black women in America are at the vanguard of reparations. In Congress, a Black woman heads the reparations push. In Illinois, a Black lady is leading the reparations campaign. In California, a Black lady is leading the reparations campaign. And in Maryland, a Black woman, Del. Wanika Fisher, is leading the reparations campaign.

Such explicit statements as, “This (reparations) bill’s attempt is to address the cancer — to address the illness of the core — which is systematic racism in the form of slavery that has placed the black diaspora in an economic, political, and social disadvantage for far too long” come from Black women like Fisher.

I’d like to see more Black progressive governors around the country. I want to celebrate all of those firsts while also calling for more, because we don’t only need more Black progressive governors; we also need more Black women progressive governors. The Democratic Party’s grassroots deserves to achieve the party’s pinnacles. Until and unless Black women are elected governors, governorship politics will remain a farce.

Moore sees governor politics as a serious economic try that may lead to the presidency. Moore, like many governors before him, could convert this into a presidential bid. I’m hoping he does. Democrats are in serious need of political skill. Moore could be the one. But if Moore decides to go soft on race because he wants to go big politically, we must hold him accountable. Moore has changed the course of history. He’s now working on his track record. While I am pleased that my governor is Black and has a family photo that resembles the one I grew up with, it is far from sufficient.

But, for the first time in the state’s history, it’s a start. It’s a fantastic start.

Sam McKenzie is a freelance writer from Baltimore who lives with his spouse and two dogs.

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