DETROIT – Actor and comedian Bill Cosby brought his message Thursday to Detroit, saying there’s a dire need for better parenting in the black community to stave off failure and pathology among the young.

Although some would say that the community’s youths are out of control, Cosby suggested, “it’s not what they’re doing to us. It’s what we’re not doing.”

More than 1,800 people packed Wayne County Community College’s downtown campus to hear Cosby speak. Some stood in the rain at 4 p.m., three hours before the start of the event, to ensure they got a seat to see the man widely considered America’s favorite TV father in the 1980s.

“It must be his celebrity status because his message isn’t pretty,” said Lynda White, 38, of Detroit. “He’s saying things that make us uncomfortable.”

That may have been Cosby’s point – facing the realities of life as a black person in America today is not a comfortable proposition.

“It was not long ago that I used to say to myself, African-American people are the only people who do not have any good old days,” Cosby said, going on to tell the crowd that in “teenage pregnancy per capita, we became No 1. In the household, the female is the leader. In the prisons, we win hands down in population. Our children, the ones that drop out, quit studying in the third grade. We have funerals because our children are shot. … And I’m amazed that some people say we did better when there was segregation. … I don’t swallow that.”

As he tours the country with his forum, A Conversation with Bill Cosby, he tells the crowds that he is not a savior and that the answer to the community’s problems lies with them.

Before going on stage Thursday, Cosby visited three overflow rooms. As he moved through a maze of hallways, he shook hands, hugged, joked and even did his trademark Fat Albert, “Hey, Hey, Hey.”

If he had any critics then, it didn’t show.

Each time he entered a room, he was greeted with universal applause and cheers.

“You’re going to leave here knowing you were right all the time,” he said. “You’re going to leave here knowing you have something to say. It’s time to stop the foolishness.”

In another room, Cosby told the crowd that often people tell him he’s preaching to the choir.

Some nodded or said “yes” as Cosby told them that the problems were of “epidemic proportions.”

“These are our people – OUR people – our young people, and they have to be taught and retaught and we have to do it and mean it,” he said.

“You can’t throw them up against the wall any more. You can’t curse at them any more,” he said. “We’ve got to bring them home, sit them down. We are the elders, and we got to demand our place.”

In the gravity of his message, Cosby maintained his sense of humor.

“You young fellas, we need to pass the word. You old fellas, we need you to keep the word. And you women, we’re coming,” he said to a burst of laughter.

Rochelle Riley, a columnist for the Detroit Free Press, which sponsored the event, served as host. Riley set the mood by saying the conversation is not directed at all black parents but a specific group in need of help and change.

“If your child is walking around in thousands of dollars worth of clothes and doesn’t have a dime’s worth of sense – he’s talking to you,” she said.

Before Cosby spoke, there were two dozen speakers. The stage was a Who’s Who of people trying to make a difference in Detroit.

In two-minute speeches, they offered inspirational words and information on how to get tutoring, how to reach teens, teach youngsters to read and volunteer. One told about a slain father; another told of a carjacking averted with a loving conversation with a gun-toting teen.

Their words differed, but the message was the same.

“Parents, we are not parenting. We’ve got to learn how to communicate to these kids,” said Norman Dozier Madison, who works with teen mothers at the Catherine Ferguson Academy in Detroit. “You’ve got to be in their business. It’s the neighbors’ problem, it’s the teachers’ problem, it’s all of our problem, and we got to get together.”