However, this new phase of things is delicate; it will call for less
charity but more justice; less help, but infinitely closer
understanding. This is indeed a critical stage of race relationships
because of the likelihood, if the new temper is not understood, of
engendering sharp group antagonism and a second crop of more calculated
prejudice. In some quarters, it has already done so. Having weaned the
Negro, public opinion cannot continue to paternalize. The Negro today is
inevitably moving forward under the control largely of his own
objectives. What are these objectives? Those of his outer life are
happily already well and finally formulated, for they are none other
than the ideals of American institutions and democracy. Those of his
inner life are yet in process of formation, for the new psychology at
present is more of a consensus of feeling than of opinion, of attitude
rather than of program. Still some points seem to have crystallized.
Up to the present one may adequately describe the Negro’s "inner objectives" as an attempt to repair a damaged group psychology and reshape a warped social perspective. Their realization has required a new mentality for the American Negro. And as it matures we begin to see its effects; at first, negative, iconoclastic, and then positive and constructive. In this new group psychology we note the lapse of sentimental appeal, then the development of a more positive self-respect and self-reliance; the repudiation of social dependence, and then the gradual recovery from hyper-sensitiveness and "touchy" nerves, the repudiation of the double standard of judgment with its special philanthropic allowances and then the sturdier desire for objective and scientific appraisal; and finally the rise from social disillusionment to race pride, from the sense of social debt to the responsibilities of social contribution, and off-setting the necessary working and commonsense acceptance of restricted conditions, the belief in ultimate esteem and recognition. Therefore, the Negro today wishes to be known for what he is, even in his faults and shortcomings, and scorns a craven and precarious survival at the price of seeming to be what he is not. He resents being spoken for as a social ward or minor, even by his own, and to being regarded a chronic patient for the sociological clinic, the sick man of American Democracy. For the same reasons, he himself is through with those social nostrums and panaceas, the so-called "solutions" of his "problem," with which he and the country have been so liberally dosed in the past. Religion, freedom, education, money--in turn, he has ardently hoped for and peculiarly trusted these things; he still believes in them, but not in blind trust that they alone will solve his life-problem.