Oklahoma sooner

New Crisis, The, Nov/Dec 2002 by Samuel, Terence

Once the GOP's rising Black star, J.C. Watts is leaving Capitol Hill and going back home a lot earlier than anyone expected

At the moment there are no Black governors or U.S. senators, which makes Rep. Julius Caesar (J.C.) Watts (R-Okla.) the highest-ranking elected African American official in the country. As conference chairman of the Republican caucus in the U.S. House of Representatives, he is the fourth ranking member in the majority party. (The House will elect new leadership in mid November.) From that position, and at the relatively tender age of 44 (he will turn 45 Nov. 18), it is not inconceivable for him to imagine one day becoming Speaker of the House, third in line to the presidency. But instead of entertaining those dreams, the controversial Oklahoma congressman called it quits July 1 and will leave Congress in January after four eventful terms. As a conspicuous part of the Newt Gingrich takeover class of 1994, Watts has lived one of the most remarkable political lives in America over the last eight years.

He was there for the Contract with America, welfare reform, the impeachment of a president, the overthrow of a speaker by his own party and the GOP recapture of the White House in one of the closest elections ever. But more fascinating may be Watts' own journey over that time.

As the lone Black Republican member of Congress, Watts was accused by some African Americans of being a traitor, sellout and opportunist willing to be used by political enemies. He told the world that he had come to Washington to be a leader, not a Black leader and incurred the wrath of many who saw his affiliation with the GOP as traitorous. He refused to join the Congressional Black Caucus, accusing of it being a Democratic organization. Ironically, when he announced his retirement, some of the kindest words came from members of the Black Caucus. And while he has been disdainful of "national Black leaders," some of whom he once characterized as "poverty pimps," he hasn't always been on the same page with his GOP colleagues, either.

Take for example, the day in 1995 when Republicans rolled out the Contract with America. Watts, a staunch supporter of the Contract, remembers watching the celebration on the steps of the U.S. Capitol. Gingrich, the new Speaker of the House, took a photograph with a group of 20 children - the contract was supposed to be all about children. All of them were White. Watts says he turned to an aide and said: "Now it's 11 o'clock in the morning. You have to work awfully hard in the heart of Washington, D.C., to not find any Black kids at 11 o'clock in the morning."

He opposes race-based affirmative action ("Why should we colorize education?"), but believes that his party has a blind spot when it comes to communicating with minority voters. He took it as a personal quest to erase that blind spot. How successful he has been is a debatable point. Both as a politician and as a man, Watts remains a collection of stark contradictions and merged dichotomies. He has grown from a tentative, sometimes defensive, politician to a savvy, eloquent defender of his politics and his party.

His exit from Congress will coincide with the publication of his new book, What Color is a Conservative? My Life and My Politics, in which he tells the story of his life, his political and personal conversions, his achievements in professional life and as a star quarterback at the University of Oklahoma (where he led the Sooners to two consecutive Big Eight championships), as well as his meditations on race, racism and racial politics. He writes flinchingly about his failings: Watts got two girls pregnant during his senior year in high school. (One of them, Frankie, he would marry; today they have five children.)

In the early pages of the book, he explains why he decided not to introduce Denzel Washington to George W. Bush: "I knew all too well that the price Denzel Washington would likely pay for meeting with a Republican president would be high - perhaps too high. This world-class actor would risk economic discrimination by Hollywood, personal recrimination by national Black leaders and perhaps even rejection by his fans. His character would be sullied and his Blackness questioned." Watts makes clear he was speaking from experience.

The congressman sat down with The Crisis in October, and spoke to us again, briefly, in early November.

CRISIS: If you could point to one person who is responsible for the views you hold and the way you look at life, who would that be?

J.C. Watts: Probably my father. I saw my father going to work every day, not in a coat and tie, the way I've gone to work most of my adult life. He went to work in [his] police uniform or in overalls. During my junior high school days, a lot of those times I was with him. I was either hauling hay or moving somebody or chopping potatoes, chopping a garden. He gave all [six] of his kids a work ethic. He gave us a real working definition of sacrifice and commitment and hard work and personal responsibility. And let me say personal responsibility doesn't mean that you're perfect. Personal responsibility just simply means that if I make a choice - a good choice or a bad choice - I have to be responsible for the choices that I make.