Is the 'good life' good anymore? African Americans are continuing to redefine what it means to live well.

POISED AND IMPECCABLY DRESSED, A HANDSOME couple aboard a yacht hold champagne flutes, their concerns about money as invisible as the wind blowing on the blue ocean backdrop. That scene--which appeared under the title "Toasting The Good Life" in BE's May 1986 issue--was what many African Americans at that time aspired to.

Those were the "go-go" '80s--rife with guiltless, conspicuous consumption--when success was measured by how much money you made and, more importantly, what you bought with it.

Some of the trappings of the good life for black professionals armed with J.D.s, M.B.A.s, M.D.s and other initials behind their names included expensive homes, status cars, dinners at exclusive restaurants, a "gold card," designer clothes and elegant jewelry. There were also winter vacations in Aspen or the Caribbean, and summer weekends at Martha's Vineyard.

But the belt-tightening '90s changed things dramatically. Buzzwords like "downsizing" and "re-engineering" have spawned a lexicon and mindset that draws on terms like savings, spirituality, quality time, flex benefits, open education, recycling and community.

"Some of the focus on individualism, the accumulation of wealth and the search for a high income has abated," says James B. Stewart, vice provost for educational equity at Pennsylvania State University and editor of The Review of Black Political Economy. "African Americans are pursuing more cooperative and communal types of issues."

Assaults on affirmative action and a strong conservative arm slowly choke-holding the nation have demanded that African Americans reassess their value systems.

It is no secret that downsizing has left many African Americans in its path, but oddly enough, it has also helped redefine what the good life is. One in seven black households has an annual income of over $50,000, most of it made in the public sector. With more than one-third of all the nation's African Americans working in municipal, state or federal government jobs, sweeping layoffs and attacks on affirmative action will affect African Americans the most, says economist Julianne Malveaux.

Unlike in the '70s and '80s, there are few exams for that next level of government jobs. The numbers of African Americans promoted in large, white-owned firms are grim. Former tried-and-true career rules--such as company loyalty is always rewarded and following in your boss's footsteps will lead you to his or her position one day--have become myths.

A FORCED SHIFT IN PRIORITIES

Corporate shakedowns took no prisoners. And no one knows this better than Tony Elliott. After filing an internal complaint against his supervisor for harassment in 1992, Elliott, a certified public accountant, left the firm where he worked. "When I got out of college, I thought that I was supposed to get a job in a corporation and stay there the rest of my life."

With a comfortable severance package from his former employer, Elliott, now 39, launched his consulting business. Working from his home in Simi Valley, Ca., Elliott gets his four-year-old son, Clayton, ready for school. His wife, Bridget Harvey-Elliott, 37, a registered dietitian, is director of customer support services for Computrition in San Fernando Valley.

With a household income that dropped from $125,000 to less than $75,000, and the expenses of their young son, the Elliotts had to reduce their spending. In the '80s, the couple dined out two to three times a week at fine restaurants, delighting their palates with fine wines and gourmet foods. They purchased expensive clothes, Cartier watches and moved from a condo to a four-bedroom home. The Elliotts now have other priorities, including doing volunteer work and spending quality time together. "This is the good life, but in a different way," Bridget explains.

Community service is an integral part of the Elliotts' lives. They volunteer their time and money with a regional food bank and the homeless food bank at their church, and also contribute to their local minority AIDS program.

Social consciousness and responsibility have always been important in the African American community. But now, says Stewart, there's been an increase in the number of young black professionals who have dedicated themselves to being active agents for social change, as opposed to doggedly pursuing personal wealth.

Additionally, the pews in black churches are filling up more, and many who are sitting in them are younger people who left the church in the '80s. With this infusion of worshippers, black churches are reasserting themselves as a support base in many inner city communities.

NEVER TOO MUCH

There are some for whom the good life has always been something to strive for--no matter how good their lives are already. Ernest and Francine Stokes are attorneys who live in a Baltimore suburb. Ernest, 49, a regulatory attorney for a Maryland bank, and his wife Francine, 46, a Baltimore city prosecutor, don't feel they have achieved the good life. But by most standards, they have.

After returning from Germany in 1973 after a three-year tour with the Army, Ernest attended the University of Maryland Law School and took a position as an associate counsel at a local brewing company. Eight months later, he was laid off "I realized then that the possibility of being laid off would always be there," Ernest recalls.

As a result, the Stokeses have always been prudent about the way they spend their money. Their split-level home is furnished with the Queen Anne chairs and Duncan Phyfe furniture they bought 15 years ago. "The choices we made were for practical reasons," Ernest says. "We bought a five-bedroom house because we had children and wanted a place for our parents should they have to come and live with us. We bought a Volvo because we knew that it was a safe car."

In the '80s, the Stokeses had achieved the American Dream. By 1985, Francine had graduated from the University of Baltimore Law School and had an M.S. in urban planning from Johns Hopkins University. The Stokeses were comfortable in their careers. With a household income at the time of $80,000, Myrtle Beach and Disneyworld vacations were routine. They were able to handle private school tuition, tennis, ballet, piano, horseback riding lessons and college trusts for their three children, Michael, 23, Adrienne, 21, and Tinsley, 6.

"We don't think we are living the good life; there are still things that we wish we could do," says Francine. The Stokeses define the good life as having quality time to spend with family and friends. "In the '80s, we would have dinner together every night. But today, we don't have that pleasure," says Francine.

The next stage of the good life for the Stokeses would be a comfortable retirement, expanding on their art collection and spending more time with loved ones.

While for some African Americans the good life is still material wealth, money cannot buy what is important now. Family a sense of community and "giving back" have taken center stage. There is a growing awareness among African Americans of their impact on the global community, says Stewart. Self-affirmation and identity are important to African Americans again, in contrast to the '80s when such issues were discounted," Stewart says.