I am happy for the people of Egypt, their commitment to change in the face of entrenched oppression is an example for us all. I’m also a bit jealous. The push for justice and freedom sweeping North Africa and throughout Arab countries in the so-called Middle East began with the self immolation of Mohamed Bouazizi in Tunisia. This one act of spontaneous self sacrifice ignited the passions of millions. Yet here in America, black men self immolate daily and no one seems to care.

Frustrated by high rates of unemployment, generational judicial abuse and oppression at the hands of occupying police forces, educational systems ill-equipped culturally and economically to address the growing deficits in achievement, black men and boys epitomize the words Man on Fire. Some brothers attempt to set their selves on fire but only get the weed lit, they take a hit and pass the torch to the next man as they slouch into oblivion, a brief escape from the pressures of targeted hate. Others choose a more prolonged numbing in harder drugs or gallons of fire water.

Some self immolate in classrooms, their melt downs labeled ADD, ADHD, aggressive disorder, the pools of their emotional explosions quietly swept up, the pieces discarded in mental and criminal facilities or dosed with pharmaceuticals they walk as zombies, a clear case of ‘this is your brain on drugs’. Some men attempt to self immolate yet overestimate the amount of fuel stored in their tanks, when the fire ignites they explode hurting women and children in fits of rage. These men join millions of their brothers in the cage, shackles reminding them they are no more than a slave. In the land of the free the black man is constantly in a state of protest yet no one sees inside the barbershops where the under and unemployed wait for hours discussing the trivialities of the day waiting for a slice of self esteem in the form of good grooming, a haircut, a shave, a respite from the barbarity of life on the razor’s edge.

A people capable of building the very foundations of America’s vast wealth yet deemed unworthy of participating in the benefits, black men are burning and the flames are used to entertain and reinforce bigotries lies as their dreams deferred fuel the pyre where new generations join those who have turned to ash and soot. For every Rick Ross or Jay Z on the outside celebrating the opportunities afforded them by the drug life, there are thousands mourning the loss of family and community locked in pens of inhumanity. Totally invisible, unheard, neglected and abused, we don’t even see the smoke from their fires. Even when they unify for justice it barely makes the news.

The pain is even more intense with a black man as President. You’d think the brother-in-chief would give his brothers a little relief, but we must remember it was Joseph’s brothers who sold him into slavery. President Obama may have a brother to pad his I-pod with the latest beats and pass him the rock so he can live up to at least one stereotype, but none of his advisers look like America’s men on fire. His policies hold no cooling water, no anti-inflammatory measures. His oxygen filled speeches may even enhance the dancing flames while his silence in the face of such misery reveals his inability to see his reflection in the brown men who admire him so.

Now that Egypt has over thrown one symbol of state domination, the powers of globalization are surely fitting them for another. While we so liberally celebrate the results of one man’s self immolation, can we spare a little time to recognize the third degree burns of our brothers?