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.