"In retrospect, I missed the first sign that L.A. mayoral candidate Rep. Karen Bass might have some trouble hanging onto support from Black men.
It came in the middle of May, when legendary Long Beach rapper Snoop Dogg decided to reach out to her main opponent, the billionaire developer and former Republican Rick Caruso, and offer up his endorsement. “You got my support,” he told Caruso over Zoom, TV news cameras documenting the exchange. “We’re a part of whatever you’re a part of, as far as bringing love to the community.”
A few days later, there was another sign. I missed that one, too.
Clarence Avant, the revered music industry mogul who introduced then-Sen. Barack Obama to Southern California’s political and entertainment circles, also endorsed Caruso. The 91-year-old, whose wife, Jacqueline, was murdered last year during an invasion of their Beverly Hills home, left it to the candidate to break the news.
Weeks later, it’s now clear that these two Black men have plenty of company.
Is it just sexism? Or perhaps a related desire to uphold the patriarchy, given that Bass would be the first woman to be mayor of L.A.?
It can’t be racism. No, I believe the answer has to do with what I’m calling the “Ice Cube effect.” ( )
I was hoping to talk to Black men who planned to cast their ballots for Caruso. Instead, I found a bunch of irritated Bass voters who nevertheless understood why their fellow Black men would do such a thing. They told me many Black men are disillusioned and fed up with status quo. They don’t believe another politician can fix anything in Los Angeles. So why not give Caruso a shot?
Some were like Willie, who told me he used to vote regularly, but stopped because he doesn’t believe a politician — any politician — can solve his problems.
“You can work and your wife can or your child can work. The dogs can work. The rats and the roaches even working, and you still cannot afford to stay in a studio apartment in South Los Angeles,” he told me, taking a break from selling used DVDs and books out of his minivan.
He continued, his voice rising: “And when was the last time you heard a politician say ‘Black man’? When they think of the Black community, they think of Black women or Black children. They don’t really think of us.”"
It came in the middle of May, when legendary Long Beach rapper Snoop Dogg decided to reach out to her main opponent, the billionaire developer and former Republican Rick Caruso, and offer up his endorsement. “You got my support,” he told Caruso over Zoom, TV news cameras documenting the exchange. “We’re a part of whatever you’re a part of, as far as bringing love to the community.”
A few days later, there was another sign. I missed that one, too.
Clarence Avant, the revered music industry mogul who introduced then-Sen. Barack Obama to Southern California’s political and entertainment circles, also endorsed Caruso. The 91-year-old, whose wife, Jacqueline, was murdered last year during an invasion of their Beverly Hills home, left it to the candidate to break the news.
Weeks later, it’s now clear that these two Black men have plenty of company.
Is it just sexism? Or perhaps a related desire to uphold the patriarchy, given that Bass would be the first woman to be mayor of L.A.?
It can’t be racism. No, I believe the answer has to do with what I’m calling the “Ice Cube effect.” ( )
I was hoping to talk to Black men who planned to cast their ballots for Caruso. Instead, I found a bunch of irritated Bass voters who nevertheless understood why their fellow Black men would do such a thing. They told me many Black men are disillusioned and fed up with status quo. They don’t believe another politician can fix anything in Los Angeles. So why not give Caruso a shot?
Some were like Willie, who told me he used to vote regularly, but stopped because he doesn’t believe a politician — any politician — can solve his problems.
“You can work and your wife can or your child can work. The dogs can work. The rats and the roaches even working, and you still cannot afford to stay in a studio apartment in South Los Angeles,” he told me, taking a break from selling used DVDs and books out of his minivan.
He continued, his voice rising: “And when was the last time you heard a politician say ‘Black man’? When they think of the Black community, they think of Black women or Black children. They don’t really think of us.”"
Column: These Black men say they'll vote for Caruso, not Bass. Is it the 'Ice Cube effect'?
In a new poll, roughly half of Black men said they want the billionaire developer to be L.A. mayor. The reasons why could have big ramifications.
www.latimes.com