This Negro Speaks of Rivers

I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
     flow of human blood in human veins. My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
–from Langston Hughes' “The Negro Speaks of Rivers”

I often spend my lunch breaks down by the Alabama River in Montgomery. I love sitting there: reading, thinking, just being. It's a place where all my identities seems to come together and meet, where my past, present and future seem to converge.

Like the time I saw a beautiful black family—a grandfather, his grandson (about 7-ish) and his granddaughter (about 3-ish), fresh off a boat ride and enjoying lunch and each other. I smiled as I watched them, catching bits and pieces of their conversation, the youngest of the crew a bit skittish about an insect flying nearby. It made me think of fishing trips with my father and siblings so many years ago.

And there are the times I have sat by this river and read books that plucked my brain and my heart, like Jewell Parker Rhodes’ Bayou Magic. In this tale, a young girl from New Orleans spends the summer with her mysterious grandmother, who teaches the child about her family’s special connection with the healing powers of water. From the time one of their foremothers was stolen from Africa to the time Big Oil threatens to ruin their entire existence on the bayou, water speaks to this family and the communities around them.

And there’s the time I reclined by the river and began reading historian Eric Foner’s Gateway to Freedom: The Hidden History of the Underground Railroad. Early in the book, I read about clever and courageous enslaved folks who attempted to escape bondage via various rivers during American slavery. Some successful, some...not successful.

I think about this particular river, the Alabama, where who-knows-how-many folks—who looked like me, could have been related to me—disembarked from vessels and walked right up this riverbank to a pen or jail on what is now Commerce Street or Dexter Avenue. At some point, they were led to One Court Square—now marked by a beautiful, decorative fountain—where they were auctioned off, maybe separated from family they’d never see again.

I think about lunch by this river with one of my dearest friends. Recently, this friend and I gathered in this old city, just down the road from the river, with two more of our dear crew. We cheered with and for each other, laughed and danced together, loved on and affirmed one another. It was all kinds of black girl magic. It was beautiful. It was love.

Perhaps I thought about all this today as the weather turns noticeably cooler and, maybe in a month or two, I likely won’t be lunching by the river for a while. But I’ll be back.

I came across this video of Langston Hughes reading "The Negro Speaks of Rivers" after explaining the inspiration behind it. Check it out.

video courtesy of Poetry Reading Live on YouTube

"Remembering is Not Enough"

Somber and moved. 

Those are the primary emotions I felt on the cold afternoon of December 12, as I walked out of the small theater at the Civil Rights Memorial Center in Montgomery, Alabama. Yes, I knew the horrifying story of Emmett Till's murder. I knew about Viola Liuzzo, Medgar Evers and Bloody Sunday. I even knew about the memorial dedicated to them and about 36 other people who had died as a result of Jim Crow racism.

What I didn't expect was the challenge placed in front of me after viewing the film Faces in the Water, a film that tells the story of the memorial and the people and events that inspired it. As the film closes, various voice-overs provide people's responses to the film and the memorial, the most striking of which (to me) states the following: "Remembering is not enough."

It's not enough to remember the hundreds of murders that went unsolved during the Civil Rights era and beyond strictly because of hatred and bigotry. It's not even enough to feel bad about those hate crimes and instances of discrimination--racial, gendered, religious or otherwise--that occur today for those same reasons. As I proceeded from that theater into the next room, deep in thought, I came face-to-face with the Wall of Tolerance, where I was invited to take this pledge, to do more than just remember:

By placing my name on the Wall of Tolerance, I pledge to take a stand against hate, injustice and intolerance. I will work in my daily life for justice, equality and human rights - the ideals for which the Civil Rights martyrs died.

Thinking about my daily life--my children, my nieces and nephews, my work, this blog--I knew that I might not ever participate in a Selma-to-Montgomery type of march or risk my life to ensure that others can vote. But I can step in when I see the children and the adults in my life subscribing to and spreading bigoted ideologies. I can use my classroom or cubicle or wherever I work to infuse "work-related material" with ideas that oppose prejudice and bias. I can use this blog to continue spreading the values of inclusion and people's inherent dignity.

My name added to the Wall of Tolerance

With these thoughts in mind, I added my name to the wall, and its largeness was convicting. I then walked outside to see and touch the memorial itself. I hesitated to put my fingers into the chilly water, but I did it anyway and thought about the immeasurable sacrifices those martyrs made in the name of doing what is right. In 2013, I will seek out ways, even small ways, that I can carry on that legacy. I hope you will too. Our children need us to do so and to teach them to do it as well.

I'm intrigued to know: what are some bigoted ideas you've seen from children lately? Where do you think they got those ideas, and what do you think can be done to counteract them?

Confederate Flags and Consumers

I know. I've been gone for a minute, and I've missed writing my ideas down. As an idea magnet, I've struggled with balancing my time as a working mommy to a 1-year-old (post forthcoming about Mini Mo's debut into toddlerhood!) and a now-16-year-old and blogging. To those who have the balance down, give me tips!

As for today's post, I need to make it clear that I am a native Alabamian. Therefore, Confederate flags are as common to me as sweet tea and hearing/saying, "y'all." From t-shirts and jackets to vehicular vanity plates and full-sized flags in front of buildings, Confederate flags are ubiquitous. Hey, even the Alabama State Flag itself incorporates the Confederate Flag.

However, it's the flag I noticed in front of a business site for a local marble and granite shop and a trailer seller that raised questions for me, one in particular: What is this flag supposed to communicate to a potential customer?

I don't know which business is sporting this flag or who owns it, but in pondering this question, I thought about what that flag connotes in general, for a wide range of people:

1. For many black people I know, it means racism, period, and calls to mind lynch mobs, white hoods, and burning crosses.
2. For other people I know, it means Southern pride and heritage and recalls a history of states defending their rights. (Rights to what? That's debatable, kinda.) The Alabama state motto is Audemus Jura Nostra Defendere, Latin for "We dare to defend [or to maintain] our rights."

There may be other connotations, but these are the two most common, in my experience. Yet, there are entities today, classified as hate groups by the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC), that use this flag to represent their causes as well.

Kirk Lyons marches at a 2003 neo-Confederate rally in Richmond, Va.
Check out the interesting participant on the right side of the photo.
Courtesy of splcenter.org

A prominent one is the League of the South (LS), identified by the SPLC as a Neo-Confederate organization. Check out some sentiments from LS members, as reported on the SPLC's website within its "Intelligence Files":

“Somebody needs to say a good word for slavery. Where in the world are the Negroes better off today than in America?”— Jack Kershaw, League of the South board member, 1998

“[T]he Southern League supports a return to a political and social system based on kith and kin rather than an impersonal state wedded to the idea of the universal rights of man. At its core is a European population.”— Michael Hill, essay on League of the South website, 2000 

Now, these statements from LS  members seem to contradict this statement from the LS's official website, DixieNet.org, on its FAQ page:

Q:What is the LS position regarding blacks in the South?

A: The LS disavows a spirit of malice and extends an offer of good will and cooperation to Southern blacks in areas where we can work together as Christians to make life better for all people in the South. We affirm that, while historically the interests of Southern blacks and whites have been in part antagonistic, true Constitutional government would provide protection to all law-abiding citizens — not just to government-sponsored victim groups.

These few examples illustrate, to me, that the placing of a Confederate flag in front of a business location sends mixed signals. Does the owner anticipate only certain kinds of clientele? Should the potential customer interpret the flag's presence to mean only "Southern pride" or something else? I don't have the answers, but I bet many folks find it alienating. Given our state's history, I'd be inclined to look elsewhere for my granite countertop or trailer. What does the Confederate flag mean to you?

"Our Love for Each Other": Gabby Douglas & Another Look at the Life Balance Conference

Really, this is not another Gabby Douglas post although I do want to congratulate Douglas's history-making accomplishments! Way to go, and keep doing your thing, young lady--correction: Gold-Medal-Winning Olympian!

Though this post is not about Douglas or her hair, the haterism about which has been covered here, here, and here in particular (where she directly addresses the silliness of all the talk), it is about black women's love for each other, and we'll start with this hair discussion briefly.

I mean, check the hardware!

Black women know all too well how sensitive the issue of our hair is, and the rest of the world is learning quickly. However, no matter where a woman stands on perms or gels, we have got to learn how to treat each other with love. For instance, I have a preference for chemical-free hair, but I don't begrudge anybody their choice to embrace relaxers. One of the wonderful things about living in the 21st century is that, while we still have a way to go, we're enjoying a time in which great strides in gender and race politics have been realized. That means we're increasingly able to rock perms, 'fros, locs, and sew-ins, and it's all becoming acceptable.

Yet, we still have women within our communities policing other women's choices and effectively causing division where there should be love. Why did we have black women taking to Twitter to tear down another black woman who was representing her country on the world stage? Where is the love and support for a woman seeking to make history and otherwise do something positive? As Douglas puts it in the HuffPo, "I'm like, `I just made history and people are focused on my hair?' It can be bald or short, it doesn't matter about (my) hair." Priorities, people. Priorities.

To return to insights gained from the Black Women's Life Balance and Wellness Conference, an important part of that weekend had to do with black women choosing to lift each other up in love--and it is a choice. As we performed the exercise in which we gazed at each other in pairs, as I described in my last post, Alexis Gumbs said something powerful: "This is a historic moment in the context of our love for each other." It was profound because we were taking time out to really see one another, without judgment, and only with spirits of affirmation.

If, then, we can support each other's endeavors and really see each other, how much could we accomplish together? If we could put aside the petty differences (like hair preferences) and cultivate "our ability to see the brilliance around us," as Alexis put it, to what extent could we change our world for the better? Ladies, please, let's cut the foolishness and love each other.

"Anti-American" American History

When I logged onto Twitter last night and searched for the official page of Melissa-Harris Perry's eponymous show, I saw cries of "anti-Americanness" and "socialism" surrounding her July 1st show. The particular segment in question was geared toward the 4th of July, its history, and what it means. Check out the segment below:

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Many Tweeters took issue with the very idea that Harris-Perry would even mention slavery and genocide in a discussion about the nation's birthday, her doing so deemed "trashing America." Is it untrue that our nation's founding also coincided with the taking of land that belonged to others? Is it a lie that our nation was built by shackled hands? No, that's all true. Why, then, is it anti-American to state these immutable facts?

What I gather is that these irate Tweeters and others have a problem with these national stains being highlighted or foregrounded on a day that should be spent celebrating. Harris-Perry's choice in "celebration," then, is considered inappropriate or in poor taste.

Is she raining on the Independence Day parade? Perhaps, but I believe the lack of such discussions do a major disservice to us all, especially our children. It does them no good to learn about the Declaration of Independence and fights for liberty and equality if they're getting only part of the story. It seems so many people want to pretend that these stains never existed, but they're integral to the founding of this country--just as integral as the signing of the Declaration on July 4, 1776. If it is a worthy tradition to acknowledge, each July 4th, the ideals of liberty and equality that the Founding Fathers espoused, then it is just as worthy and even responsible to acknowledge the hypocrisy inherent in those ideals.

Yesterday, my 10-month-old, Mini Mo, wore a "My First 4th" onesie that was embossed with red and blue stars and an Uncle Sam hat. And when she's old enough, we'll pop firecrackers and grill out on the 4th, but we'll also discuss the reasons that everyone didn't have cause to celebrate on July 4, 1776--or for that whole next century. That's not anti-American in the least. It's history--American history--and that won't make my child a "slave" to the past. It will make her educated.

I'm not out to defend Harris-Perry. (She's a grown woman--and a scholarly, brilliant, eloquent one at that. She needs no back-up from me.) As she indeed points out in her Independence Day segment, though, she is proud of her country, imperfections and all. We can all be patriotic and honest at the same time, striving for those 18th-century ideals in the process.