APA Newsletter oN
Philosophy and the Black
Experience
John McClendon & George Yancy, Co-Editors Spring 2013 Volume 12, Number 2
From the editors
As co-editors, it is with a deep sense of sadness and yet with
abiding honor that we dedicate this issue of the APA Newsletter
on Philosophy and the Black Experience (spring issue, 2013)
to the memory and legacy of the late Dr. William R. Jones. It
was actually our intention to devote a special issue to Dr. Jones
over two years ago; however, he was intent on revising and
eformulating his ideas and the project never came to fruition.
In the next issue of the newsletter, we intend to continue our
efforts to acknowledge the philosophical heritage that Jones
has provided.
Our contributors in this issue span the generational
spectrum of African American philosophers and students
of philosophy and we greatly appreciate their insightful
contributions toward honoring the memory and thought of Dr.
Jones. In “The Honor Was All Mine: A Conversation with William R.
Jones,” Dr. George Yancy
iefly reflects on his richly textured
1996 conversation with William R. Jones, which is followed by
the interview that has never before been published. Dr. Lewis
R. Gordon, in his “Remembering William R. Jones (1933–2012):
Philosopher and Freedom Fighter,” provides a personal
and moving remem
ance of Bill Jones. Gordon’s reflective
piece beautifully captures the spirit of love and freedom that
Jones embodied and provides a context for understanding
the philosophical, humanist, and theological magnitude of
Jones’s thought. Dr. Stephen C. Ferguson II, in his essay “On
the Occasion of William R. Jones’s Death: Remembering the
Feue
achian Tradition in African-American Social Thought,”
astutely situates Jones’s philosophical work within the context
of African American philosophical tradition and alerts us to
how the Feue
achian Tradition in German philosophy is
apropos in the assessment of Jones’s philosophy of religion. Dr.
J. Everet Green’s “William R. Jones: Philosophical Theologian
Extraordinaire of the Twentieth Century” introduces us to how
Jones was a formidable thinker in the context of twentieth-
century philosophical theology and Africana thought. Dr. Greene
was a student of Dr. Roy D. Mo
ison II, who in turn was not only
a very close friend of Jones but also a co-worker in the field
of philosophical theology. Green shares with us his personal
vision of the intellectual landscape that frames Jones’s legacy
in philosophical theology. Ms. Brittany L. O’Neal’s “William R.
Jones’s Humanocentric Theism: Reconceptualizing the Black
Religious Experience” continues the discussion on the import
of Jones’s magnum opus, Is God a White Racist? by locating
its significance for reconceptualizing Black religion in non-
theistic terms in contrast to classical theism. Ms. Kimberly A.
Ha
is, in her “The Legitimacy of Black Philosophy,” provides
a critical assessment of Jones’s seminal contributions to the
affirmation of Black philosophy as an academic pursuit and its
metaphilosophical implications. Dr. John H. McClendon III, in his
“Dr. William Ronald Jones (July 17, 1933–July 13, 2012) On the
Legacy of the Late ‘Dean’ of Contemporary African American
Philosophers,” offers a personal and historical account of Dr.
Jones’s legacy. McClendon argues that Jones stands at the apex
of the African American philosophical tradition both as a scholar
and activist, and thus deserves the honor of “Dean.”
In this issue, we are also delighted to include six book
eviews. Tim Golden reviews James Cone’s The Cross and the
Lynching Tree; Jessica Patella Konig reviews George Yancy’s
Christology and Whiteness: What Would Jesus Do?; Floyd
Hayes reviews John H. McClendon and Stephen C. Ferguson’s
Beyond the White Shadow: Philosophy, Sports, and the African
American Experience; Chike Jeffers reviews Robert Birt’s The
Liberatory Thought of Martin Luther King Jr.: Critical Essays on
the Philosopher King; Michelle V. Rowley reviews George Yancy
and Janine Jones’s Pursuing Trayvon Martin: Historical Contexts
and Contemporary Manifestations of Racial Dynamics; and,
Chris Mountenay reviews Jacqueline Scott and Todd Franklin’s
Critical Affinities: Nietzsche and African American Thought.
Articles
The Honor Was All Mine: A Conversation with
William R. Jones
George Yancy
Duquesne University
The following is part of a larger conversation that took place in
1996 with Dr. William R. Jones (1933–2012). The conversation
was synoptic in scope, covering fragments from his childhood,
his interest in philosophy, Blacks in the field of philosophy,
the Committee on Blacks in Philosophy, racism, theodicy and
Christian theism, Black theology, and oppression, the last of
which shaped the driving theme to which Jones dedicated his
life to understand and eradicate.
Like his Black heroine Ha
iet Tubman (1820–1913), Jones
was compelled to continue in his liberation efforts. For Jones,
there was no justification to discontinue. Liberation struggle,
for him, took place within the context of history, on the plane,
as it were, of existential suffering and social praxis. No matter
the truth or falsity of the vertical theistic/metaphysical claims
made by theologians regarding the existence of God, Jones was
clear that it was our responsibility to wage struggle against the
multiple forms of oppression experienced by human beings. In
short, then, his “theism” did not mitigate his humanist drive to
change the world for the better. His “humanocentric theism”
is conceptually consistent with the need and responsibility
— APA Newsletter, Spring 2013, Volume 12, Number 2 —
— 2 —
for human beings to transform destructive forms of historical
epetition, to dismantle structures of oppression, and to attack
manifestations of social evil wherever they are found.
When talking with Jones, one got the impression that
there is so much more to be done, so much more social evil
that needed to be eradicated. One also got the sense that the
effort to fight for a better world is one’s personal responsibility,
a responsibility that one bears despite the fact that one is
always already born in medias res, in the very middle of the
drama of human existence. Indeed, we participate (both
directly and indirectly) in the interdependent matrix of social,
political, economic, and psychological forces that oppress so
many. And while it would be false to say that we all engage in
acts of oppression in the same ways or that we all experience
oppression in the same ways, it is true, nevertheless, that
our duty is to locate where and how we oppress others and
to seek out ways of challenging and undoing those forms of
oppression.
This was partly what was so profound and didactic when
talking with Jones. He forced me to confront my own bad faith,
something he did with passion and sometimes tears. Out of all
the interviews that I have done, it was with Jones that I was,
for the very first time, personally moved by a profound sense
of passion, a form of passion that was deeply infectious and
abiding. As he talked about Ha
iet Tubman and her headaches,
caused by the trauma of being hit on the head with a blunt
object by her white “owner,” his voice began to crack. His
cracking voice gave way to a process of gentle so
ing. In
silence, I listened to Jones complete the powerful moral story
of Tubman’s liberationist indefatigability. Tears welled up in
my eyes. From what I recall, I turned off the recorder. And
with a somewhat strained composure, though one not easy
to maintain, I simply said, “we should end there.” He agreed.
That moment of shared tears, of shared ta
ying over Tubman’s
ethical and spiritual journey, left me in silence long after the
conversation was over. The sheer joy of journeying through
that emotional moment with Jones was itself a burden and yet
liberating. I was reminded of the pain and angst suffered by
Tubman. Yet, I was reminded of her sacrifice, her duty, and her
love for others. I was also deeply sti
ed by Jones’s humanity,
his vulnerability, and his intense passion. Most of all, I was
eminded—as he spoke of finding absolutely no justification
for why he should discontinue fighting against oppression—of
the fact that Jones was a philosopher who wept.
GEORGE YANCY: When did you first discover that there was a
field called philosophy?
WILLIAM R. JONES: As a teenager, I did a great deal of reading.
I was a little bitty, tiny kid. And I had very, very bad eyes. In
fact, I should have used glasses well before I actually got them.
But you know back then if you wore glasses they called you
“four-eyes.” And so literally it got to the point, and this was in
high school, where I could not see the board from the first
ow, and the teacher, Mr. Fo
es, called my parents and told
them he thought that I needed glasses. I’ll never forget the
time when they put those glasses on me. The world looked
different. I just hadn’t seen anything. But I couldn’t participate
in sports. So I did not get into that athletic route that, to me, is
eally an oppressive structure designed to keep Black people
oppressed. So, because of my physical body size and my eye
problem, I began to do a lot of reading. I remember reading
Plato back then.
YANCY: At what point did you apply to Howard University?
JONES: Actually, I had not decided to go to college because I
didn’t have any money. My father was a postman and he did not
have much money, but his argument was that he had to help
my sisters. He said that he had to set aside and make sure that
my two sisters got an education rather than operating within the
framework of “who had the best potential.” So, I had decided
to try to get into the armed services and then get some money
and go on the GI Bill. But one morning I went to school and I
hadn’t studied for a chemistry exam and our homeroom teacher
told us that there was a representative from Howard who was
there to give this national competitive scholarship exam. The
exam was scheduled at the