Booker T.

Yesterday I got a phone call from a teacher at Booker T. Washington High School.  I thought, "Hmmm...who is Booker T. Washington?  And why did they name a school after him?".  But I left it at that.  Later, my husband and I went to a local book store and I came across this book: Guest of Honor: Booker T. Washington, Theodore Roosevelt, and the White House Dinner That Shocked a Nation.  "Oh, he was a black man" I thought.  "He ate at the White House...He must be a very important person.  Why the heck don't I know anything about him?!"

Running into Booker T. Washington twice in twelve hourse is enough of a sign for me.  I've got to know about him.  So, today, I'm starting my research.  There's much more to come, but so far I'm fascinated by the following things about his life:

1. He's a black man who is famous for his dedication to education.  How much do we need that kind of role model?!!  (thank you Geoffrey Canada!  I mean it.)
2. Despite the fact that black people built the White House and served many presidents there, Washington was the first black man to be invited to dine there as the president's guest.  This caused quite a stir, apparently. 
3. His life is a blueprint of the interconnectedness of white and black (and even native) populations in our country.

I'm excited to share more of my thoughts as I learn what I should have learned in (my excellent and racially-integrated) elementary school...  Hope you'll come along for the ride!

Soul

Yesterday I began writing another blog post on a terribly serious topic.  I realized most of my posts are serious.  It's time for something a bit more uplifting and positive.  So, today (inspired by the song I just heard on the radio, linked below) I'm going to write about one of my most favorite aspects of black culture in the U.S.: music.
Ah, there isn't anything quite like the way jazz, soul and gospel get into my blood and move me.  If I could live 5 different lives, in one I would definitely be a black female singer from the 1960s.  Or a black back-up singer.  Or a black woman in a church that had a choir.  Alas...I don't have a voice even for a white girl. 

But, I can still pretend.  I can roll up my car windows, turn the music on loud, raise my hands and sing along with Aretha, Etta, and Gladys.   :) 



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v78-ftcqpNw

President...Or a Test Pilot.

I'm linking an article from the New York Times about the influence Barack Obama has on black children.  I've actually been really impressed with the way our President has handled the "race issue" as our Commander in Chief.  He hasn't made a big deal of the color of his skin, which signals that it's perfectly appropriate for a black man to hold the supreme office in our land.  I love that.  Quiet, simple leadership.  And when I say that, I don't mean "leadership as a black man or "leadership just for black kids" (although, as this article describes, he IS a very important symbol in the struggle for racial equality and a great inspiration for black children) I mean "leadership for us all".

The article describes the story behind this photograph of a young black boy touching President Obama's hair to know if "my hair is just like yours".  When asked what he wants to be when he grows up, the little boy in the photograph (then 5, now 8) replied that he would be very happy to be Presdient of the United States. “Or a test pilot.”  :)

 

This is the second time hair has come up on this blog (the first time can be found in the March 28th post Normal.).  Just about every other time I visit my friend Shikindra and her black family, someone is getting their hair done (or just had it done).  And the other day I spoke to a white friend of mine who described her newly-liberated state after her daughter's hair was cut short and she didn't have to war against tangles any more.  Now that I'm thinkin of it, in A Raisin in the Sun, (info about the play here  and here) there's a discussion regarding the natural state of a black woman's hair.  I'm beginning to think that hair is kind of a big deal... 

Anyone out there have any thoughts about how our hair is connected to our sense of self?  I'd love your thoughts!  Please post in the comments section or (if you're friends with me on Facebook) you can comment on my wall, too.

Academic Legacy

Please take a few moments to listen to this broadcast from NPR's Morning Edition.  This is an example of the awful way so many black people have been treated by academic institutions -- including the school I graduated from and currently work for.  It is also an example of how things have appropriately changed. 

This brought tears to my eyes.  Especially as I thought of the little black girl I know who lives in a poor neighborhood, has her nose in a book and just wants to be a teacher...

http://www.npr.org/player/v2/mediaPlayer.html?action=1&t=1&islist=false&id=152935623&m=152979290

Children's Play

The Third Installment of "That White Woman is Starrin' At Us"

My triumphant return!  After a month of working to the end of school, I've turned my attention back to this blog...hope you enjoy!


For a little over a month now the kids and teens at church have been playing with a giant jump-rope.  The first time they did this, their rope was fashioned by tying the ends of two long jump-ropes together.  It was make-shift, but they couldn't have had a better time.  When I arrived, I walked up to the crowd of children and teens watching, laughing, singing and jumping when one of them told me I could join in.  "Come on Miss Amy" she said.  So I put down my purse and walked over to join the group of jumpers when suddenly it became very clear that I wasn't welcome there.  Another girl started yelling at me, "Oh, no!" she said, "Get out!"  There's obviously no room for a boring adult in the adventures of jump-roping kids.  But this encounter got me thinking...


It got me thinking about the history of children's games.  So, I looked up the history of jump-rope and found that it has been a part of many cultures from North Africa to Asia and Europe for thousands of years.  I continued on in my vast research of all that the Internet could tell me about children's sidewalk games and found my way to this article by Mona Lisa Saloy (yes, Mona Lisa) about African American Oral Traditions in Louisiana.


I was fascinated as I read about Saloy's study, which examined many different traditions, including sidewalk songs for games like jumping rope.  It concluded that many black families place great importance upon the ability to verbally defend themselves or humiliate others.  The clever use of rhyme, insult and wit is highly praised among those communities.  The average white U.S. citizen might recognize this attribute of black verbal history in "yo mama" jokes and in modern rap music.  Rap artists are often connected in our cultural imagination to gangs, drugs, and illegal sexual activity, but the rappist's talent is truly great and often esteemed in black communities.  Many rappists have an amazing ability to communicate piercing thoughts faster than I could even think them.  And they often rhyme -- just like the jump-roping songs on the playground.


As I read Saloy's article, I was forced to consider my own biases against stereotypical "black" verbal culture.  I am often off-put by what I perceive as rude, harsh, and ignorant language coming from some of the black people I know and I'm ashamed to say it wasn't until reading this article that I even considered that such language was a cultural tradition passed down from centuries of historical oppression.  It is increasingly difficult for me to figure out how best to love children who speak so differently than I do.  How do we embrace and celebrate the tremendous cultural heritage found in language, yet also communicate the semtiment that certain word or grammar usage will make one appear uneducated and less likely to get accepted as a university student or employee a high-paying job in the United States?  Is that biculturalism even possible?  For generations, immigrants have tried to change their language or accent; to American-ize it.  Even my own cousins, whose Italian father had to learn English when he married my aunt and who have grandparents who live in Naples and speak no English, hardly speak Italian.  I fear that being linguistically bicultural is almost impossible.  Either we are "black" or "white", "Jewish" or "American", "Irish" or "American" and much of that depends on how we speak.


But isn't that beautiful?!  The vast diversity of our world evident the moment a mouth is opened!  The poetry, passion, humor and love communicated by such a varity of languages is one of our world's greatest treasures. 


My paternal grandmother's family is the Wards.  When I visited Ireland in college, I found a keychain proclaiming that "Ward" means "Bard" or traveling storyteller.  While I have no documentable proof of this definition, I have chosen to believe it because it so describes my family.  My grandmother, my father and my brothers and I all love stories.  I, indeed, have chosen a vocation rooted in theatrical storytelling, specifically studying William Shakespeare -- The Bard of Avon.  If anyone can appreciate the creativity and craft behind black verbal culture, it should be me.  Perhaps that simple game of jump rope so many weeks ago will spur me on to a deeper study of language within culture and a deeper appreciation for speech that, despite my initial reactions, is no less beautiful than my own.


I'd like to end with a few words from Saloy's article, which center on the role language plays in developing cultural as well as individual identity....very interesting:

"Children's folklore, in general, fulfills certain functions; it reflects and criticizes society and transmits values. For most kids, their lore entertains them, teaches them how to manipulate words, helps to develop their group identity, and creates a bond. It also provides the opportunity to practice "handling" authority and informs them of their sexual roles.

The sidewalk-song of children's folklore performs a particularly important role in African American culture. When Black youth perform these sidewalk songs, they practice and learn to contribute to their rich African American verbal culture. By puberty if not earlier, the Black child must learn to "hold their own" for protection, that is, from verbal or physical abuse. It is a common Black custom to be able to "rap" oneself out of a street fight or "jive" your parents out of a deserved whipping. Therefore, this early verbal play becomes a vital link to what will later become "jiving," "sounding," "woofing," "the dozens," and eventually "rapping," all of which are common African American verbal-dueling traditions. The dueling dozens and rapping have been incorrectly attributed only to Black male culture. Girls also participate in these early raps and frequently with boys. Boys participate with girls to varying degrees depending on their exposure to sisters, girl cousins, and neighbors."

I'm Related to Barbara Walters?!: The Ethnic History of Our Religious Leaders

Religious Faith, Ethnicity and History make the intriguing combination explored on this edition of the PBS Program Finding Your Roots.  Henry Louis Gates, Jr. provides Pastor Rick Warren, Rabbi Angela Buchdahl, and Sheikh Yasir Qadhi with a Family History Book that tracks the physically documented as well as the biological history of their families.  Using historical documents, Gates takes the religious leaders through hundreds of years and introduces them to their recent ancestors.  Then, with the help of DNA analysis, he shows them their family lineage through ancient times.  It's a fascinating look at how one's ethnicity often -- although not always -- determines one's faith, and how the faithful see the interconnectedness of all the world.

Check out this 51 minute program here: http://video.pbs.org/video/2219356213

Emancipation Day- All Will Be Well

Today is the 150th anniversary of “the first time the [U.S.] government...officially liberated any group of slaves”.  On Apil 16, 1862 President Abraham Lincoln signed a bill that abolished slavery in the District of Columbia and today, the residents of D.C. celebrated it as "Emancipation Day": a bonified schools-libraries-and-other-government-offices-closed holiday.

So, what's the history of Emancipation Day, you ask?  I thought you might.  ;)

As this article in the Washington Post points out, slavery was abolished, but slave-owners not entirely punished by a loss of "property".  The bill allowed for slave-owners to be compensated for their loss.  Two "experienced dealer[s] in slaves" were commissoned to determine each slave's worth.  The ledger these two dealers kept is quite telling.  Not only does the paperwork detail the objectification of the worth of hundreds of human beings, it also offers an insight into ninetheenth century D.C. culture and society.  Take, for example, "Henry Hatton, one of several petitioners described in the ledgers as “colored”.  Henry "sought compensation for three slaves, Martha, Henry and George Hatton, who could have been members of his family, according to Archives expert Damani Davis." 

I am deeply intrigued by this record.  Who were the Hattons?  Were slaves Martha, Henry and George related to the owner Henry or did they simply happen to share a last name?  How did Henry come to own these people?  What did he (they?) do with the money he recevied in compensation?  It is a curious notation.  Finally, you'll notice the slaves aren't reduced (as in other records) to being labeled as mere posessions, but are written down as human beings with full first and last names.

I'm fascinated by this notion of paying slave owners for the loss of their slaves.  To me, this compensation is offensive.  It signals the goverment espousing the view that black people are property, which justifies the slave-owner's, rather than the emancipator's, claims.   That the government, in the act of emancipating slaves, used the very practice of reducing the value of a human being to a (usually low) dollar amount is, at the very least, ironic.

However, I cannot ignore the very real economic climate of the 1860s.  Even today I've heard (usually white) people say that the Civil War was about "economics, not slavery".  Slaves were a free labor force and their emancipation changed the country in many ways, including economically.  Before declaring the official U.S. Emancipation Proclimation, Lincoln offered southern states compensation in exchange for freely accepting the abolition of slavery, but they rejected the offer.  I doubt that much of the racist resentment expressed by many white Americans would have been remarkably reduced if southern slave owners had been compensated for their economic loss.  And yet I can't help but wonder. Would "compensation" have made a difference?  The tremendous sense of hurt and loss many white southerners felt impacted their ideology as well as their actions.  They passed those beliefs down to their progeny so that many in this country still hold a longing for a south they've never known.

Before I disappear entirely into impossible historical wonderings, I want to return to the joy of Emancipation Day for the end of this post.
The The District of Columbia's website has records of residents' reactions from 1862.  I'd like to end my thoughts today with the tremendous recollections of one man (emphasis is mine):

"One black District citizen wrote to a friend in Baltimore, 'This indeed has been a happy day to me sights have I witnessed that I have anticipated.'

He then described how he gave the happy news to two female friends of his, one of whom had an enslaved son:

When I entered they perceived that something was ahead and emmediately [sic] asked me “What’s the news?” The District’s free says I pulling out the “National Republic” and reading its editorial. When I had finished the chambermaid had left the room sobbing for joy. The slave women clapped her hands and shouted, left the house saying, “let me go and tell my husband that Jesus has done all things well.” While the cook who is free retired to another room to offer thanks for the blessing sent. Should I not feel glad to see so much rejoicing around me? Were I a drinker I would get on a Jolly spree today, but as a Christian I can but kneel in prayer and bless God for the privilege I’ve enjoyed this day….Would to God that the Law applied also to Baltimore but a little patience and all will be well."

Here's to moments which give us hope that one day "all will be well".

What God Put Us Down Here For

Wednesdays have become the day to discuss race and faith on ColorBind.  Today I'd like to hear from the brother of one of the Tulsa shooting victims (read about the incident here).  Kenneth Fields was interviewed by Morning Edition on NPR.  His sister, Donna Fields, was killed a block from her house as Jake England and Alvin Watts opened fire in her Tulsa neighborhood.

Here, from that broadcast, is what Kenneth has to say about the incident and the shooters:

"Kenneth Fields says he wants justice for his sister, but he doesn't think the men who have confessed to killing her should be put to death.

"I don't hate them. I don't hate them. That ain't what God put us down here for, to hate nobody," he says... He even wonders who will raise Jake England's infant son".


In my previous post, I talked about Jake England's choice to use his anger over the loss of his father to enact revenge against black people.  Kenneth Fields has made the opposite choice.  I am grateful for this silver lining in a sky that increasingly looks grim and cloudy and I will remember his words for a long time to come.

Revenge

___Second Installment of Racial Stories in the News__

The newest news story regarding hate crimes to hit the big news stations is from Tulsa, Oklahoma.  According to this article from Fox News (notice I'm trying to show equality in my news sources ;) ) two men, Jake England (age 19) and Alvin Watts (age 32) have been arrested as suspects in the recent Tulsa shooting rampage which left three men dead.

The shooting happened in a predominately black neighborhood and all three people who were killed, plus two who were injured, were black.  That, coupled with comments England made on his Facebook profile, has many calling the shooting a hate crime against blacks.  While the Tulsa police have taken these crimes seriously and quickly arrested the suspects without incident, they are hesitant to label the killings "hate crimes" without further evidence. 

This case brings up many issues.  Firstly, I commend the Tulsa police force for acting with such integrity.  Crimes against blacks -- really all minorities -- have often been disregarded or labeled 'less important' than crimes against whites.  The Tulsa Police Department seems to have been treating this particular crime-solving effort with the speed and diligence expected of such a horror.  I am glad to see they aren't ignoring the fact that this could be a racist hate crime, but I'm equally glad to see that they are waiting for evidence to determine the nature of the crime.  I've recently heard many black commentators, speaking of Trayvon Martin's death, say things like, "We just want the justice system to work for us the way it works for the rest of the country".  It seems Tulsa Police are providing an example of that equal treatment.

Secondly, I'd like to take a look at Jake England.  According to the Fox News article, England has had a rough couple of years.  Scratch that.  He's had a really rough couple of years.  In 2010, when England would have been seventeen, a man broke into Jake England's sister's apartment.  Their father tried to fight off the intruder, but was shot in the chest and killed.  The intruder, the man who shot England's father, was black. 

Fast forward almost two years.  England is nineteen, has a fiancé and a new baby.  Perhaps things are looking up, until his fiancé commits suicide.  England is now looking at life as a single parent without his father and without his partner all before he starts his second decade of life.  That would make anyone scared and upset.  It would even make some people act out in anger, seeking a kind of revenge.  The previously mentioned article even cites "concern about possible [black-led] vigilantism in retaliation" against the shooters.

No one, regardless of the color of their skin, is immune to anger brought on by a great loss.  And no one, regardless of the color of their skin, should get away with violent acts because they have suffered that great loss.  However, the racial divide we experience in the U.S. feeds justification for such acts of revenge.  If I only have one experience with a black man and it happens to be negative, then it’s easy for me to assume my experiences with all black men will be negative – indeed that black men themselves are bad.  If a black man only meets one white man who happens to be a bigot, it would be easy for him to assume that all white men are bigots.  With this warped mentality, randomly shooting at a group of people simply because of the color of their skin can be interpreted as revenge.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about ethnic tensions in the Middle East, too, and I wonder if ignorance isn’t a big problem there, just as it is in the U.S.  We humans just don’t know each other. 

Today at lunch, I was speaking with a friend of mine who is on a committee in Abilene called United By Faith.  United By Faith members attempt to gather together people of many different ethnic backgrounds in Christian worship and fellowship.  I believe it is these types of things that will slowly bring us together; friendships across racial lines, the ability to sit together at a dinner table or in a pew, to learn from each other and grow.  But I’m tired to periphery relationships.  I want blacks and whites to have deep, committed friendships, where they really, truly, intimately know one another.  I want to see more black girls and white girls choosing to be roommates their freshmen year in college.  I don’t know the make-up of Jake England’s friend base, but I’m willing to guess it didn’t include very many black people.  Perhaps, if Jake had a strong friendship with a black man, he wouldn’t have opened fire randomly in a black neighborhood.  Perhaps. 

I know I sound like a crazy idealist, but I’ve actually experienced this change in my life.  I used to judge many of the black kids at my church who horseplay really roughly on Wednesday nights.  I thought they were fighting and would often interrupt them, reprimanding them for their fighting (I wasn’t going to be fooled by their claim, “We’re just play-fighting”).  Eventually the girls I drive home told me they really are play-fighting.  This is something they do all the time: at home, at their cousins’ house, at school.  It’s part of how this group of kids shows affection.  They were persuasive enough for me to realize I had been placing my own worldview over their behavior, my worldview that said anything I perceive as negative is serious and needs to be stopped.  I now watch their horseplay from the side.  It still makes me anxious and I keep an eye to discern if someone is actually in real pain or danger, but I know what’s going on and so I can stand back and let them handle it.  And they do a pretty good job.  As good as any yet-to-be-fully-developed teenager can.  ;)

The point is, I would never have known this fact about these kids had I not been in relationship with some of them.  This is my idealistic plea for relationships across divides: racial, ethnic, political, economic, and religious.  Perhaps, perhaps with more and deeper relationships, we will love each other more or at least hate each other less.  It is a challenge I myself must face: to get to know my fellow human beings.

Mr. Wrong__The 2nd Installment of "That White Woman is Starrin' At Us"

Yesterday Casey introduced me to Mr. Wrong by Mary J. Blige.  She connected her phone to the tape player (yes, tape player) in my car and played the song for us all saying to Amelia, "You don't know this song?  You got to know this song!"  They swayed in my car listening to the song, which reminded me in style of Me and Mrs. Jones.  The lyrics reminded me of a struggle many people have: staying in relationship with someone despite knowing their impact is not good. 

Casey changed the words "Mr. Wrong" to the name of her ex-boyfriend and the entire car erupted in laughter.  It may sound strange, but it was really sweet driving along listening to these girls mourn, sing, and heal together.  I often feel like I'm 40 years old around them, but this time that feeling was nice.  I could observe them as one who has passed the years of teenage angst.  I could see them growing and learning: dealing with hard things, but doing so with a strong group of friends around them.  I'm glad they have each other.  Thinking of all that made me smile.  And miss the street I was supposed to turn on.  Like 5 times.  They basically had to direct me home I was so distracted thinking about it.

Community is good and if healthy community can be built around a song, I don't think that's wrong.  Not wrong at all.

April 4, 1968

Today is the anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.  In memory of this incredible Civil Rights leader, I'm posting part of the speech he gave on April 3, 1968.  Please take ten minutes here to listen to his prophetic speech, consider the journey of blacks in the U.S., as well as the intersection of race and faith. 

I'm also posting one of my most favorite speeches from a politician ever.  Robert Kennedy gave this speech announcing King's death. 

MLK's Speech: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySGDMdQaDA0&feature=related

RFK's Speech: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kbt87kt92tg

Will Anything Change Now That Trayvon is Dead?__Big News Race Stories

Here are my thoughts on the so-called Trayvon Martin Case.

In case you haven't heard, here is a summary of what happened to Trayvon:

On February 26, 2012 a Florida man named George Zimmerman shot and killed 17-year-old Trayvon Martin.  Trayvon was black, wearing a hoodie and carrying a bag of candy, an iced tea and a cell phone.  Something about the way Martin looked as he walked toward his father's girlfriend's house made George Zimmerman see him as a potentially dangerous person.  I've heard many people say the only thing Trayvon could have done to keep Zimmerman from following him was to have been non-black.

Zimmerman listened to his instincts and called 911, describing Martin as someone suspicious.  Even after the 911 operator told Zimmerman "We don't need you to" follow Martin, Zimmerman pursued the teenager and engaged in a confrontation (the details of which are still unclear), which ended in Martin's death.

Zimmerman was not arrested.  The local police department justified the lack of an arrest by citing the Stand Your Ground Act, which (although it is a very complicated law that has not been interpreted with much consistency) basically gives immunity to a person who uses deadly force against someone they believe is trying to kill them.  It's ok to kill your attacker as long as you think they're trying to kill you.  Obviously, there are a number of loop-holes and questions that this law brings up, which is why many people are calling for the Stand Your Ground Act to be changed and for George Zimmerman to be convicted of murder.

I'm certainly interested in justice for Trayvon.  I want the laws and law-enforcement agents to be fair to all U.S. citizens, but this post is not going to be about that specific case for justice or about changes to the Stand Your Ground Act or other political changes that need to be considered.  This post is going to attempt to discuss what Reverend Al Sharpton called "the real problem" (quote can be found on this broadcast).  The real problem is that racism is institutionalized. 

Melissa Harris-Perry has produced a number of important and interesting broadcasts on the Trayvon Martin case on her MSNBC show, but this discussion with Rev. Al Sharpton, Kenji Yoshino (Chief Justice Earl Warren Professor of Constitutional Law at New York University School of Law), Tim Wise (anti-racist writer and activist) and Richard Cohen (President of the Southern Poverty Law Center).

I am challenged by Tim Wise's comments about institutional racism.  Certain stereotypes and assumptions are so internalized that, he says, we don't even register them at a conscious level.  They are deeply ingrained in our psyche so that even "1/3 of black folks have internalized biases against their own group". 

Because of this rampant institutionalized racism many black children grow up in the U.S. learning how to appear less suspect -- the insinuation being that they are born suspect because of the color of their skin.  As Corey Dade explains in this NPR broadcast, black children may be told not to loiter, argue with police, or even, "never leave a store without a shopping bag for fear of being suspected as having shoplifted".  The idea is that if they follow these rules, they will appear less "suspect", less "feared".  Dade indicates that this teaching can be done "without instilling any kind of inferiority complex or a sense of paranoia".  However, I have my doubts.

This past Saturday I took my favorite 11 year-old to the library.  She wanted to get on the adult computer, so we did.  We searched for different Internet educational games (she recently landed in the 80th and 90th percentile of those who took the State's Standardized Test :) ), however after about 15 minutes, they weren't stimulating to her.  So, of her own volition, she started to search for information on Trayvon Martin.  Since this lovely 11-year-old is black, I suddenly found myself in a position to either use Trayvon's death to teach her about how to protect herself, or to teach her about how assumptions can be deadly.

In truth, I do not want this case to encourage black parents to tell their little black children that they have to be more careful.  I want change!  I want this case to cause parents to tell their little children "Don't make assumptions!"  There's all this talk about Trayvon's death starting a movement.  I hope it's a movement of the heart, which can continue to change our internal, institutionalized, sub-conscious thoughts and actions. 

All my life I've wanted to adopt a child.  I've thought a lot in recent years about the possibility of adopting a black child (I'm a bit sorry to say that Brangelina and Sandra Bullock probably have influenced me).  "Raising a black child with two white parents would do a lot toward tearing down racial prejudice" I thought, "Everyone would see that whites and blacks can live together happily and love each other -- and if the next generation sees mixed-race families, they won't be racist anymore!  Problem solved!"  This weekend, however, I gave some serious thought to the positive aspects of having my own child -- or at least raising white children.  Perhaps part of my responsibility as a white woman is to raise up white people who don't fear black people.  And, truthfully, I can do this without even having children of my own.  In my own life, I can make the following choices: I can use a Bible with pictures of a black Jesus when I teach children at Sunday School.  I can invite the college students at the college I work for to consider black American plays, art, and dance.  I can (gasp) take white and black children to the zoo together.

I'm going to end with two bits from the Melissa Harris-Perry Show.  One is from Tim Wise and one from Melissa Harris-Perry herself. 

In response to the anthem "I am Trayvon Martin" and thinking about our internalized racism, Tim Wise said, "For a lot of us, we're probably a lot more like George Zimmerman and we have to be honest about that if we're going to move forward".  Love that.

Finally, Melissa Harris-Perry presents her "Guide for How White People Can Talk About Trayvon Martin".  This.is.really.great.

A Raisin in the Sun!

Hello Everyone!

This post is a reminder that A Raisin in the Sun opens TONIGHT! at Cooper High School in Abilene.  The show is playing at 7pm tonight and tomorrow.  Below is the original blog I wrote a few weeks ago about the show and Crystal Rae Productions, which is presenting the piece.  I hope to see you there!!


-- Amy

Crystal Rae is a friend of mine from my days as a student at Abilene Christian University.  She has started Crystal Rae Productions and has produced a number of artistic offerings for the Abilene community.


Her upcoming project is A Raisin in the Sun.  Produced in part by the ACU Office of Multicultural Enrichment, the ACU Black Students Association and Cooper High School, it will be performed at Cooper High School at 7:00pm on Friday, March 30th and Saturday, March 31st.


Also, part of the proceeds will go to the Carver Youth Council in Abilene.  You seriously want to support Crystal Rae Productions.

A Raisin in the Sun is a play beautifully written by Lorraine Hansberry.  It's central characters are the Youngers, a black family living in a post-World-War-II Chicago neighborhood.  At the beginning of the play, the family's patriarch has died, leaving the family a sizeable life insurance cheque.  The Youngers (Mama, son Walter Lee and his wife Ruth, and daughter Beneatha and her Nigerian boyfriend Joseph Asagai) all have different ideas about how to use the money - and what their family should expect of the future. When Mama uses almost half of the money to make a down payment on a house in a white neighborhood, the whites who already live there send a representative from their neighborhood "Improvement Association" to bribe the Youngers to stay away.  Despite other setbacks and unexpeted opportunities, the family remains together at the end of the play: determined that whatever the future brings, they will be stronger together.


I highly recommend attending this production - perhaps I'll see you there!

In addition, Crystal has published an e-book of poetry called Road Map Home.  It's only $1.00 and really wonderful.  Here's one of my favorite poems from the collection:


Honest

No one taught me how to stay
Is that okay to say
Doesn't matter
Ima say it anyway
No one taught me how to stay put
longevity
sitting through the storm to see what the rain brings
no one taught me how to bear up
or suffer long
suffering in my world was always wrong
Now I'm contemplating forever
with one man
and my heart is having a conniption
what do I know about being constant
or steady
I've been breast fed souped up
black girl independence and
I guess God had had enough and arranged an intervention
or an interruption, or a revelation of this thinking's corruption
So I'm in a clinic for that
going through detox for that
sweating and screaming away my nights
as the spirit of entitlement fights for its hold on my life
I'm going to meetings where I say,
"Hi my name is Crystal and I'm a recovering self-sufficient"
taking it one day at a time
loving you
being true
the kind of woman you'd want to come home to
resisting the urge to show you my check book
and saying things like "Nigga look"
learning from the folk who see the possibility
of life long real love monogamy
I've gotten off the band wagon or out the paddy wagon
I'm taking on the biggest challenge ever laid before me
doing life with complete vulnerability
refusing to compromise on my integrity
and asking God to handle the ones who mishandle me.
It has been taught that the weak become wives
I swallowed the doctorine like magicians swallow knives
and the truth is that love done right is attempted only by the strong
who sit to see what the rain will bring
who've learned to suffer long.

Check out Road Map Home by Crystal Rae!  It's awesome!


Websites:

Crystal Rae Productions: http://www.crystalraeproductions.com/index.php

Map to Cooper High School: http://maps.yahoo.com/#tt=&q=3639+Sayles+Blvd%2C+Abilene%2C+TX++79605-7050&conf=1&start=1&lat=32.407807&lon=-99.74893&zoom=16&mvt=m&trf=0

Buy Crystal's e-book here: http://www.lulu.com/product/ebook/road-map-home/18939841?productTrackingContext=search_results/search_shelf/center/1

That White Woman is Starrin' at Us

This is the beginning of a series I'm going to do on Thursdays: reflections on time spent with four teenage, black girls.  I drive Queenie, Casey, Nina, and Amelia (not their real names) to church and back home every Wednesday night.  Queenie and Casey are sisters.  Nina is their friend from the neighborhood and Amelia is a friend from school.  They all have different, but equally fantastic, personalities.  Queenie is the older sister and has the intelligence, cautious observance, strength and compassion one would expect from that most blessed of birth orders ( :) ).  She's less prone to violence than her exuberant sister, but she did tell me once that she likes to watch a good fight at school.  Queenie loves babies and wants to go to college to become a nurse -- or someone who cares for babies. 

Casey is a powerhouse.  She speaks without thinking in a way that is (usually) mysteriously endearing.  She inspires me.  Casey has some anger issues and she has a tendency to react in very physical ways.  This combination can cause problems for her, so she has personally sought out help dealing with feelings of anger and has employed advice from others to great effect.  I have witnessed her tremendous growth in self-control through her middle and high school years.  Casey can be overwhelming -- even scary - to strangers, but her friends see her as fun, funny, loyal, thoughtful and honest.  I like these girls a lot.  They live in a nice, single-family home with their mom and dad.  Their grandmother recently passed away.

Nina is much more quiet than either Casey or Queenie.  She comes from a big family that has moved around a lot in the past few years.  Currently she lives in a house with MANY other people: brothers, sisters, parents, grandparents and even-- I think -- some people she may not be related to.  Nina has a great laugh and beautiful smile.  Even though she doesn't like school, she's very interested in learning and curious about the world around her.  This semester she's taking a theatre class (I have a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in Theatre; she hates the class.) and appeared both amazed and relieved to find that I knew the word "monologue"; as if she'd found a comrade of some sorts who knew about this crazy theatre world.  She is a sweet, thoughtful girl who knows well how to laugh.

I know Amelia the least well of all these girls.  She recently joined our caravan to church and, honestly, when I first met her, I didn't think she was a great addition.  I've heard the N-word come out of her mouth more than I have ever heard it come from any single person in my life.  She was always saying discouraging and demeaning things to the other girls.  I just thought she was mean.  I've gotten to know her -- and the culture of these girls ("Miss, we're just playin'!  That's how we play.") -- better over the last few weeks and am hopefully growing in understanding and compassion for Amelia.  She appears very self-confident and strong and is quite clear about what she likes and what she doesn't like.  I found out one similarity between Amelia and me last week: we both love the animated movie Anastasia.  In fact, the context of that discovery is what has provided the title of this series.

The series is called "That White Woman is Starrin' at Us" because of our experience eating at Burger King last week.  After church last Wednesday night, I told the girls we could hang out somewhere.  They usually choose Sonic or a McDonald's where the main clientele is black.  That night, however, Casey was tired of McDonald's, so we went to Burger King.  They were the only black people eating in the restaurant.  There was a Hispanic man with two (adorable) little girls and a large group of white people.  The teens choose a booth to sit in and I stood at the counter waiting for the food.  When the food came, I walked over to the booth.  They made room for me and I sat down.  That's when the (not so quiet) whispering began.  "Amy, that white woman lookin' at you."  "She wonderin' why you sittin' with all these niggas".  As the night wore on, the girls continued to stare back at this group of white people and to talk about them judging us.  No attempts at distracting them worked for long, even (gasp!) when I asked them what their favorite movies were.  As long as we were at the restaurant, they were stuck talking about these people who had looked at us.

Reflecting on this experience made me think about many things.  Here are some of them:

1.) I was really amazed how antsy these white people made my friends.  I suggested they just ignore the white woman staring at us, but they would have none of it.  I am still so ignorant about the power white people have in our society.

2.) It reminded me of feelings I've had when we go to the McDonald's where mostly black people eat.  I feel comfortable enough to enjoy my evening, but also not exactly welcomed or wanted (is that the way I should feel?)  Feeling like the minority, or the strange one, can be extremely difficult.  As my last post pointed out, black people are often thought of as "abnormal" in our culture.  White, middle-class culture is expected.  Anything else is strange.  Growing up feeling "strange" (let alone living through centuries of feeling "strange") would certainly make a person more aware of and more anxious about how they are perceived.


3.) This reminds me of literary research done on "the other".  "The other" is someone who is strange, or different in a story.  As I'm about to go into grad school to study the works of William Shakespeare, it especially reminds me of 'ole Will.  Shakespeare lived among immigrants (he actually rented housing from French immigrants), was a country stranger in the city and wrote about "the other" in plays like The Merchant of Venice and Othello.  He knew so much about the world and those who people it.  No doubt much of that wisdom came from his ability to step outside his comfort zone and experience life as "the other".

So...what is it for me to step outside of my comfort zone to experience life as "the other"?  What is it for you to step outside your comfort zone to experience life as "the other"?   Is that even possible?  I hope, I dream, that at least in some way it is.  I dream of a day when black and white teenagers can sit in the same booth at a fast-food restaurant and no one thinks anything of it.  I dream.

Normal

The world is so full of interesting, important, controversial topics that I am a bit overwhelmed.  A once-a-week blog is not enough to cover all I want to know about.  So, I'm going to start writing more often -- perhaps even as much as every weekday (crazy, I know).  I've already received two topic submissions from friends.  I'd love any others -- if there's anything you've been thinking about, heard in the news or would like to say, please let me know.  I'd love to add it to my cue!

I do want to mention that I'm not ignoring the biggest race story on the news today.  I'll be talking about Trayvon Martin, soon.  There's a great piece NPR did that I want to highlight.  Once I get my thoughts on paper, I'll post them.

Today's blog post is inspired by a youtube video, Normal, which my friend Kaylynn shared with me.  It's a 5 minute video of a guy named Micah speaking at a church.  His speech was inspired by an encounter he had with "shampoo for normal hair".

First, I love Micah's description of how children react to something that is "different".  Children are so honest and open: they notice when something is strange to them, make a big deal about it (as opposed to adults who hide their curiosity) and try to explore this strangeness (as opposed to adults who are afraid of anything strange to them).

I also love what this has to say about our assumptions (I have often thought how, when describing someone walking down the street I use the word "man" to describe a white man and "black man" to describe a black man) and about how those assumptions shape our identity and self-worth.  "Oh the irony when black girls cry themselves to sleep wishing they were light-skinned" Micah says, "while white girls lie for hours on the beach fabricating melanin".  This problem of self-loathing, of ignorance regarding the intentionality of our Maker is not a "normal problem" either he says.  It's a problem for us all.  I love that.  We're all weak.  We are all responsible.  And we all have power to change it.  We're in this mess of misunderstandings and assumptions together and so it will take all of us to get out of it.

I encourage you to watch Micah's video.  It's less than 5 minutes, but is very powerful: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPhuYG2_gQk

Crystal Rae Productions

Crystal Rae is a friend of mine from my days as a student at Abilene Christian University.  She has started Crystal Rae Productions and has produced a number of artistic offerings for the Abilene community.


Her upcoming project is A Raisin in the Sun.  Produced in part by the ACU Office of Multicultural Enrichment, the ACU Black Students Association and Cooper High School, it will be performed at Cooper High School at 7:00pm on Friday, March 30th and Saturday, March 31st.


Also, part of the proceeds will go to the Carver Youth Council in Abilene.  You seriously want to support Crystal Rae Productions.

A Raisin in the Sun is a play beautifully written by Lorraine Hansberry.  It's central characters are the Youngers, a black family living in a post-World-War-II Chicago neighborhood.  At the beginning of the play, the family's patriarch has died, leaving the family a sizeable life insurance cheque.  The Youngers (Mama, son Walter Lee and his wife Ruth, and daughter Beneatha and her Nigerian boyfriend Joseph Asagai) all have different ideas about how to use the money - and what their family should expect of the future. When Mama uses almost half of the money to make a down payment on a house in a white neighborhood, the whites who already live there send a representative from their neighborhood "Improvement Association" to bribe the Youngers to stay away.  Despite other setbacks and unexpeted opportunities, the family remains together at the end of the play: determined that whatever the future brings, they will be stronger together.


I highly recommend attending this production - perhaps I'll see you there!

In addition, Crystal has published an e-book of poetry called Road Map Home.  It's only $1.00 and really wonderful.  Here's one of my favorite poems from the collection:


Honest

No one taught me how to stay
Is that okay to say
Doesn't matter
Ima say it anyway
No one taught me how to stay put
longevity
sitting through the storm to see what the rain brings
no one taught me how to bear up
or suffer long
suffering in my world was always wrong
Now I'm contemplating forever
with one man
and my heart is having a conniption
what do I know about being constant
or steady
I've been breast fed souped up
black girl independence and
I guess God had had enough and arranged an intervention
or an interruption, or a revelation of this thinking's corruption
So I'm in a clinic for that
going through detox for that
sweating and screaming away my nights
as the spirit of entitlement fights for its hold on my life
I'm going to meetings where I say,
"Hi my name is Crystal and I'm a recovering self-sufficient"
taking it one day at a time
loving you
being true
the kind of woman you'd want to come home to
resisting the urge to show you my check book
and saying things like "Nigga look"
learning from the folk who see the possibility
of life long real love monogamy
I've gotten off the band wagon or out the paddy wagon
I'm taking on the biggest challenge ever laid before me
doing life with complete vulnerability
refusing to compromise on my integrity
and asking God to handle the ones who mishandle me.
It has been taught that the weak become wives
I swallowed the doctorine like magicians swallow knives
and the truth is that love done right is attempted only by the strong
who sit to see what the rain will bring
who've learned to suffer long.

Check out Road Map Home by Crystal Rae!  It's awesome!


Websites:

Crystal Rae Productions: http://www.crystalraeproductions.com/index.php

Map to Cooper High School: http://maps.yahoo.com/#tt=&q=3639+Sayles+Blvd%2C+Abilene%2C+TX++79605-7050&conf=1&start=1&lat=32.407807&lon=-99.74893&zoom=16&mvt=m&trf=0

Buy Crystal's e-book here: http://www.lulu.com/product/ebook/road-map-home/18939841?productTrackingContext=search_results/search_shelf/center/1

StoryCorps - The Symbol of Integration

So there's this really wonderful oral history program called StoryCorps.  StoryCorps' "mission is to provide Americans of all backgrounds and beliefs with the opportunity to record, share, and preserve the stories of our lives".  Conversations between people all around the United States are recorded, and broadcast on the radio and the internet.  "Since 2003, StoryCorps has collected and archived more than 40,000 interviews from nearly 80,000 participants. Each conversation is recorded on a free CD to share, and is preserved at the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress".  (quotes come from their website.)

I was listening to some of the stories on the StoryCorps website and was reminded of a line in a play I recently watched (more on that in a later post).  One of the characters in the play, a Captain in the military, defends his actions by saying, "I represent many men".

In 1953 A.P. Tureaud Jr. entered  Louisianan State University as the first black undergraduate.  Listen to his story and the way he felt the weight of representing many men -- even representing a movement that would in many ways define the decade to follow.




Listen to A.P. Turneaud Jr.'s story: http://storycorps.org/listen/stories/a-p-tureaud-jr-and-steven-walkley/ Check out StoryCorps: http://storycorps.org/

Helping...

This post begins what I'm sure will be a long-winded investigation into truth-telling through art, the power of story, and importance of historical accuracy.  This post centers around a discussion of the 2011 movie The Help lead by author, professor and MSNBC host Melissa Harris-Perry.

Quick Summary of The Help (for the 3 of you who haven't read the book or seen the movie):
Based on the tremendously popular novel of the same title by Kathryn Stockett, The Help follows two groups of women living in Jackson, Mississippi in 1962.  One is a group of poor, black, female domestic workers.  The other is a group of wealthy, white 20-something women whom the black women work for.  One of the white girls (the only one who has graduated from college) wants a job as a reporter.  She sees that the black women aren't being treated fairly and decides to write something about their plight.  She ends up interviewing a handful of black maids from Jackson, collecting their interviews into a book and using that book to secure a writing job in New York City.  The book is published and read by many in Jackson, which gives voice to the black maids (who had previously been quieted in the white section of town) allowing them to both praise and discredit their employers.

Two great things about The Help:
1.) It has gotten people talking about issues of race.
2.) It reminds us (or shows us for the first time) that black women have important stories to tell. 
It is my opinion that we need to hear more stories from women, particularly black women and I see The Help as an encouragement for black girls and women to step up and be heard.  Our stories are important and hold great power when spoken aloud.

However, the issues Melissa Harris-Perry and her guests brings up need to be considered.  Are the characters in The Help simply stereotypes, which actually hurt black females?  Is this story so laden with white-guilt that it fails to do anything but perpetuate our inaccurate cultural stereotypes?  Is our society blind to our assumed roles for women -- both black and white?  If so, how do we open our eyes and change those roles?

This past weekend, The Help was nominated for 5 Academy Awards, including Best Picture.  Octavia Spencer received the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress.  This movie is popular and celebrated.  I believe that obvious popularity should be used for good - as inaccurate and even harmful as it may be, this story has inspired many (myself included) to seek a greater understanding of the historical truths of black Americans.  One black female I know said this after viewing The Help: "I watched it with my Grandmother and my mom it was so interesting to hear their stories throughout the movie...it was powerful!"  I have hope that this kind of response will be common.  I have hope that The Help will bring about renewed interest in hearing and in speaking the real stories of blacks in the United States.  I have hope that our eyes and ears can be opened to see and hear everything that has so long been hidden behind stereotypes. 

Perhaps truth-telling can be a legacy of this piece of art, after all?  I hope.

You can find the discussion with Melissa Harris-Perry here: http://video.msnbc.msn.com/melissa-harris-perry/46523913#46523913

The Beginnings

About a year ago, I began to casually consider the role of race in my world.  Friends at my church encouraged me to attend special Multicultural Worship Services, I read the book "The Help" and remembered the powerful way my black nanny, Alberta, changed my life.  I listened to the young black girls I've mentored for years.  I (finally) heard the way they spoke about Africa, black Americans and themselves.  I heard the lack of confidence in the voices of the black teenagers with whom I attend church and winced every time they used the N-word to describe another black person.  I began to wonder, "What really is it like to be black in the United States?".  Then, I attended a performance which transformed my contemplation from casual to intentional.  Please watch the link attached.  It is a beautiful re-telling of an honest story and a challenge to us all.  It's a performance that changed my life. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cwJdCNJbXIU
Choreographed by Dawne Swearingen
Speech by Dr. Jerry Taylor.

Fair

This weekend I was sexually harassed by a black man.  He is someone I know only tangentially, but his comments about my legs and his request to see "what's under your coat" made me very uncomfortable.  I still cringe thinking about the way his comments made me feel fearful, disrespected, exposed and angry.  I felt dirty and scared for the rest of the day -- and haven't been able to completely move the experience from my daily thoughts.  I was knee-deep in anger and disgust when my thoughts turned to others who have experienced harassment.  Suddenly my perspective changed. 

Black women have lived at the mercy of the white man's sexual whims for centuries.  They experienced much more than just a suggestive word or sexually-charged request.  The amount of mixed-race children blotting U.S. plantations during the 18th and 19th centuries proves how common it was for a plantation owner to rape a female slave.  These fair-skinned children gazing out through history betray my arrogance.  I was not and am not completely powerless in this situation.  I was able to say "no" to this man; to walk away, get in my car and drive somewhere I felt safe.  I could potentially press charges if I wanted to.  For an enslaved woman, the consequences of choosing any of these options (which were readily available to me) were often so horrific that she would never have chosen them.  Even after the Emancipation Proclamation, there was little a black girl could do to prosecute a white man.  Indeed, there was little a black man could do to defend himself against the false accusations of a white girl.  Is it, therefore, fair that I experienced this small piece of harassment?  Is it time the white race experienced a bit of what they themselves dished out for so long? 

I don't know.

Almost a week later, there is one aspect of this experience that I feel clearly about.  The thing that makes me the most upset is that young girls who live in this man's house were in a parked car not 50 feet from him when he did this to me.  I pray those girls did not see him approach me but, whether or not they did, I believe the attitude inherent in his comments pervades their house.  At that moment, I was little more than a body to that man: something nice to look at.  I desperately want those girls to know that they are intelligent, strong and capable.  That their bodies are not the only thing that gives them purpose or worth in this world.  That their beauty and intelligence comes from God and should be respected.  They are not simply baby-machines or sex-toys.  They can be strong and gently lovers and mothers, but they can also be doctors, teachers, presidents, C.E.Os and women who have the right to say "no".  Yet how will they know this if they only see men regarding the body of a woman? 

These girls already have the deck stacked against them:  They live in a poor neighborhood with schools that are crowded with disinterested students and (frankly) disinterested teachers.  They are being raised by grandmothers and aunts because, after giving birth as teenagers, their mothers chose alcoholism and drug abuse over raising their own children.  Most male relatives are in gangs or jail.  There is little in their world to show these girls how much they are really worth.  Knowing they are in a house with a man who treated me as sexual object breaks my heart.  Will they learn from him that their strength comes from their ability to read, or to show compassion, or to make a scientific discovery -- or will they learn from him that their strength comes from their ability to look good in a tight dress?

This is a problem for all women in the United States.  It is a problem that will take the work of both men and women to solve.  It is a problem that demands our attention and our action.  It's time we start praising women not because they look fair, but because they are fair: just, humble and intelligent.  Those are the attributes that mark a truly beautiful woman.  We must teach our girls and boys, through word and action, that their worth lies in more than just their physicality.  Their worth is not dependent upon the size or shape of their body - just as it is not dependent upon the color of their skin.