For four decades, comedian and civil rights activist Dick Gregory has been telling it like it is. A provocative, biting brand of humor and impassioned protests have been his tools of choice and, at age 64, Gregory still spiritedly employs both-he is, by all accounts, as outspoken and dynamic as ever.
Gregory brought his routine to the Levine Science Research Center Friday evening with a performance that showcased his trademark pointed social criticism and sharp wit. For nearly two hours, Gregory kept the audience roaring and-when the laughter subsided-thinking. And laughter and thought, as Gregory will tell you, are the very purposes of his comedy. It is a comedy that began blazing trails more than 30 years ago when he became the first black comedian to appear at an all-white night club.
"I raised comedy to another level in two ways," said Gregory in an interview. "Firstly, because I was the first black comic to perform in front of white audiences, I brought a certain freshness. Secondly, I opened another level because I got people saying, 'If he can do that...'"
Gregory achieved national recognition following his debut at the Playboy Club in Chicago in 1961. Here was a 28-year-old black man blasting the injustice and hypocrisies of segregation in front of white audiences-and leaving them in stitches.
"Gregory has added a new dimension to the world of comedy," wrote Playboy Club owner Hugh Hefner in the introduction to Gregory's 1962 book "From the Back of the Bus." "He is a black funnyman who does not get his laughs by fearing ghosts in B movies, rattling 'dem bones' or other such demeaning antics. He is another much-needed spokesman for his people, one who can reach the ear of the world that makes it listen."
The sweet irony of his success was not lost on Gregory, who was forced to endure Jim Crow segregation and poverty growing up in St. Louis. "When I left St. Louis, I was making five dollars a night," he joked in the book. "Now I'm getting $5,000 a week-for saying things out loud I used to say under my breath."
Gregory believes that while the years after the civil rights struggle have witnessed significant progress, the battle is far from over. Economic power, he affirms, is the key to liberate blacks from the racism that still ensnares them.
"Back in the '50s and '60s, it was physical-there were physical signs at water fountains and public pools as a part of segregation and Jim Crow," said Gregory. "Now it's a mind thing. The [civil rights] movement rose up and what a beautiful thing it was. In the process of crushing segregation and Jim Crow, we bumped into racism....We saw Jim Crow and segregation with signs, but you can't see racism, smell it or taste it. The reason this struggle [against racism] will be more difficult is because white people can't relate to it. If white people went to the bank and couldn't get a mortgage, then we'd have a comrade."
Racism, as Gregory discussed during his stand-up routine, still flourishes in an America driven by the greedy dollar.
"Texaco proved it," he asserted. "When does the word 'nigger' not mean 'nigger?!' When a multi-trillionaire executive says it....Mark Fuhrman said 'nigger' 40 times, but because he didn't have trillions of dollars, his 'nigger' remained 'nigger.' No matter how much education you got, people in this country will still look at you and think ' nigger.' Until we're all free, none of us will be free."
It was a bitter lesson Gregory learned firsthand as a track star at Southern Illinois University, where segregation prohibited him from eating in restaurants with his teammates, an experience he chronicles in his 1964 autobiography "Nigger." So Gregory took on Jim Crow-and won-by helping lead efforts to desegregate the only movie theater in Carbondale [the town where SIU is located]. After breaking new ground in comedy and attaining national publicity in the early 1960s, Gregory was tapped by Medgar Evers and Martin Luther King, Jr. to lend assistance to the fledgling civil rights movement. Gregory in turn invested his heart and energies into the movement, and was jailed and beaten for his participation in protest marches. He was brought into the movement as a renowned comic, but Gregory appreciated the gravity of the movement and therefore kept it "altogether different" from his comedy.
"What we had to do in the South was convince black folks that they could go against good white folks," recalled Gregory. "The whites in the South would stand on their porches fascinated, point and refer to me as 'the millionaire nigger.' The political officials and policemen were outraged they couldn't do anything....There is no media bias when you see a dog biting a child. That's how we won that battle-our movement had television."
Gregory is quick to note, however, that he did not really contribute anything to the movement; rather, he emphasizes, it was what the movement gave him.
"The civil rights movement changed my life-it taught me the beauty of non-violence," said Gregory. "It changed me from being 'in love' to being lovable and loving....I thank God that the movement caught me when my light was almost gone. That 'light' is truth, justice a sense of fairness and feeling for everyone on the human planet."
Over the years, Gregory has marched at voting registration rallies and protested against the Vietnam War, and has fasted more than 100 times to alert the world to critical social problems. He became the first black candidate for president when he ran under the Peace and Freedom Party in 1968. His concern for world hunger led him to develop vitamin-rich nutritional mixtures for malnourished peoples.
"My most important accomplishment has been to draw attention to social conditions through fasting and prayer," said Gregory.
Gregory is currently waging a campaign of protest against the Central Intelligence Agency, who he and others believe is guilty in conspiring with the Nicaraguan Contras to introduce crack cocaine into black communities.
Dick Gregory has seen a lot of the struggles and triumphs for racial justice over the past 40 years-more than that, he has lived them. The times have changed-for the better, he will admit-but his devotion to causes for equality will never.
"Have we made progress? Yes, we have," said Gregory. "I'll ask the question and answer it....People say what a bad time it is to be black in America. Trust me-try Biloxi, Mississippi, 1942."
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