"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?

Hair Length: Who Does it Hurt?

"Every time a woman cuts off her hair, somewhere a little black girl cries!" 

-The Game's Tasha Mack

Tasha Mack uttered these lines when Melanie spontaneously chopped off some of her famously long hair. I grew up with a similar sentiment, in that I was threatened by friends and several family members throughout the years regarding my hair: "I'll beat you if you ever cut your hair!" That kinda thing. Of course, I never took these threats seriously, but they were meant to communicate that my long, "good" hair was important to people other than myself. That hair apparently meant something, and I dared not touch it.

Well, on November 1, I did touch it, after thinking about it for a long time. The experience brought those old threats back to mind and made me reflect on the various do's and don't's surrounding black women's hair. If I had long hair, I owed it to other people to maintain that length, but it only reinforces--in my humble opinion--more problematic standards of beauty that many black women have internalized: this idea that we have to strive for straight hair or long hair. I'm just going with healthy hair.

While I don't completely agree with the idea that "I am not my hair," I do believe that cutting my hair doesn't harm me or anyone else. It was, in fact, a liberating (if slightly scary) experience. More importantly, it was my experience to have, and I captured pictorial evidence of the whole thing! 

Freshly shampooed and conditioned hair

The actual length of my hair--some serious shrinkage!

It's about to go down.

First cut, off the top. I cannot lie, the result (considering shrinkage)
was shorter than I intended. My heart picked up pace at this point!

All the cut-off hair...that's a lot of hair.

The finished look

Back view of the finished cut

Conditioner rinsed out and leave-in applied, I headed out for the day
with the least amount of hair I've ever had in my life. I'm liking it!

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.

Overwhelmed and Grateful: Reflecting on an Amazing Weekend

We began by staring into each other's eyes for a whole minute. Silently. We were strangers, and this was awkward, to say the least. We giggled, fidgeted, shifted nervously in our seats, and glanced around the room. Eventually, we got down to business and tried to focus on staring at each other. When the interminable minute was up, we revealed what we had seen in each other during that time. I saw an amazing beauty; she saw kindness and warmth. We were one pair of women in a roomful, and we were beginning the end of an overwhelming weekend in Atlanta.

I still haven't really processed it all. I mean, it's taken me a week to get myself together and write about it! I was blessed enough to attend the 2nd Black Women's Life Balance & Wellness Conference in Atlanta, GA, held July 13-15. As the conference's website states, the planners of the conference "acknowledge that endeavoring to achieve career, family-life, and personal life balance is an ongoing challenge!" So, a group of talented, intelligent, beautiful black women converged on the Atlanta University Center's Robert W. Woodruff Library to encourage, inspire, and support one another. It was awesome! There's really too much to talk about; I'm probably going to cover aspects of it over several posts. However, I'll begin with the end.

Our closing session on Sunday was conducted by Pauline Mckenzie-Day and Alexis Pauline Gumbs, a mother/daughter doula team. Instead of helping to birth babies, however, they used this session to nurture the new selves that were birthed over the weekend. After discussing the gazing session, Pauline and Alexis asked us pairs to share with each other the visions that we have for ourselves, our hopes and fears. We followed that sharing by crafting haikus of affirmation for our partners, based on what we'd learned from them. My partner wrote such an insightful piece for me:

The intent is yours

You know what needs to be known

Content in intent

Yeah, it's definitely taped onto my bathroom mirror. I read it every day, and it sticks with me because it's true: I do know what needs to be known as I come closer and closer to discovering my passions and putting them into action. Meanwhile, I strive to be content--and no longer anxious or disappointed!--with the process.

Finally, we closed by forming a large circle and, one after another, expressing sounds that would create the ideal situation for a baby to be born into. As the sounds cascaded with each added voice, I smiled to hear, "Yes!" and "Welcome" and "Thank you," along with singing, humming, and sighing. It was the perfect way to welcome our new selves into the world, and I look forward to implementing some of the ideas those wonderful women shared. Step 1: make an important phone call that might transform my ideas into the tangible. More on that later. ;-)

"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.

My Book is a Toddler!

My toddler!

Happy 2nd birthday to my book, Getting Hair "Fixed": Black Power, Transvaluation, and Hair Politics! As I reflect on my 2-year-old, a historical and literary look at the various politics surrounding the afro before, during, and after the Black Power Movement, I think of transvaluation and present-day implications for the concept. Regardless of apparent trends associated with kinky, afro-textured hair these days, it's clear that transvaluation is still very much part of the picture.

As I explain in Getting Hair "Fixed," I use the term transvaluation in the same way that Eddie S. Glaude, Jr. does when he describes it as "a fundamental psychological and cultural conversion from [black people's] socialization as a subordinate people to a self-determining nation."* Indeed, Glaude provides this description in the context of freedom struggles that fomented many Black Power initiatives, and I apply this term to the embrace of afro-textured hair during the Black Power era specifically (roughly the mid 1960s to the late 1970s).

In spite of the historical contexts and current trends, I'm noticing that transvaluation does creep up in discussions surrounding natural hair and transitioning in particular. One interesting example is Zina Saro-Wiwa's insightful NY Times op-doc titled "Transition." (Sorry! There seems to be no way to embed the video!) As Saro-Wiwa explores various types of natural styles and the women who've chosen them, she herself embraces her natural texture and comes to this transvaluative conclusion:

While so many naturals I’ve met are happy to be part of a movement, almost none I encountered consider it political. They back away from any talk about "black power." I can see why a highly individuated movement characterized by joy, self-discovery and health concerns doesn’t at first appear political, but in a post-racial America, this quiet, internal shift toward self-acceptance is, to my mind, the most potent and political act of all.

It's not necessarily an in-your-face, fist-in-the-air approach that makes this growing natural hair movement political or transvaluative. For many women--not all--it is about self-acceptance, which is why it is often so life-changing. Saro-Wiwa notes that going natural changed the way she viewed her whole body, even her diet, and made an initially temporary decision (cutting off her hair) a permanent one. For the naturals out there, do you see your decision as at all transvaluative? Thanks for reading and celebrating my book's second birthday!


*You can find Eddie S. Glaude Jr.'s take on this concept in his introduction to Is It Nation Time?: Contemporary Essays on Black Power and Black Nationalism. Ed. Eddie S. Glaude Jr. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2002. I discuss my use of the term in Getting Hair "Fixed": Black Power, Transvaluation, and Hair Politics. Saarbrücken, Germany: Lambert Academic Publishing, 2010. 5-6.