From New Orleans, La., that icon of our need for renewal and to rebuild American cities--meditations, poems, and prayers for urban mothers after hearing news at 11.
With many other Americans, I continue to struggle with the details of the homecoming dance gang rape in Richmond, Ca. The gang rape is enough horror of its own, but the crowd watching, some cheering and taking cell phone photos but doing nothing to stop the atrocity, is a twisting of the knife.
If you've visited this blog before, then you know that I write poetry and prayers related to youth violence and other issues that concern mothers/parents. I felt a poem on the homecoming rape should be posted here.
When I was young, I sought boys' praise, hoping a knight scooped me up onto his fast white stallion. On the radio the Temptations and Supremes made love between women and men seem like a sweet thing, wild sugar cane, precious as pearls good.
And our daughters dream these dreams still, ignore our push to higher ground, neglect our wish that they first gift themselves with the self esteem we lacked. Perhaps into our DNA is hacked a thirst for male attention.
When I was young, I worried to fit in, lamented to my mother "Sometimes, Mama, I have no friends." Oh, to be Marsha Brady! Or dance on the beach with Frankie and Annette. Growing. Older, I don't regret knowing myself.
And our daughters in their teens dream the old dreams. To fit in and have friends, maybe they trust the wrong grin. Yearning for acceptance, soft, tender, renders them easy prey. Too eager to follow the concealed foe.
When I was young I dreamed I might have children, a boy and girl for whom I'd string better pearls. As offerings I'd raise each up to do this world no harm. I'd mold noble souls.
And our sons see us work to make for them and their sisters a viable life. The adoration pours from our breasts. Our maternal potency commands respect. Why do they not confer our honor on girls at the mall, in school halls?
I am old, having abandoned the error of youth but taken on sorrow hearing of a girl ravaged by wolves. Undone a stone's throw from music. Did she dream the dreams I once dreamt, to be the belle spun by the boy, believing safety's with friends?
That daughter's shed an innocence no woman reclaims. We do not know her name but her pain too many of us women know well. To our fathers, our husbands, our sons ... How do we restring this broken strand of pearls?
(c) Copyright 2009 Nordette N. Adams
Heinous crimes conjure a grief-stricken, sometimes angry, sometimes more reflective muse. I write poetry and prayers to work through these bouts of malaise over societal decay. Believe me, while the gang rape took place in Richmond, Ca., living in New Orleans, La., and listening to the nightly news, is not conducive to sweet dreams.
The story of the gang rape prompted this poem and also hearing that the victim was not popular at school.
(Post updated 10/30 with this quote) ... One story getting particular attention this morning is based on comments made by the victims' friends at a safety meeting held at the school Wednesday night.
In an article posted on CNN International, a picture begins to emerge of the 15-year-old victim, who had come alone to her homecoming dance, "gorgeous in a sparkling purple dress and faux diamond baubles."
... Baker later described the 15-year-old girl as a churchgoer who struggled to fit in at Richmond High.(source)
The possibility that she'd been drinking and ignoring for a moment that a minor should not have had access to alcohol, I wonder if a need to be liked and to fit in contributed to her willingness to follow a boy she thought she knew into a darkened area of the campus. I've heard that predators, like the young males who raped this girl, sometimes hone in on people who they can tell are looking for connection.
This is not saying it's the victim's fault because the scary thing is that most of us are looking for connection, and sometimes even when we're strong and confident we may find ourselves unwittingly in the presence of wolves. When you're a 15-year-old girl, possibly unaware of the depths of human treachery, the danger increases. In fact, as I wrote at WSATA, I have a friend who was gang raped as a teen. She too followed a friend who turned out to not be a friend at all, and she was liked in high school.
In addition, I recall hearing of these types of incidents in college. A guy would invite a girl who he knew trusted him or liked him to his room, and then he and his friends would gang rape her. They called it running a train. Sometimes they drugged the girl to keep her quiet. You heard the stories, but never heard them from official sources. The girls, embarrassed, thinking it was their fault or not wanting to be labeled as rape victims, did not always report the rapes.
As for a gang rape and a crowd watching, every time I hear such cases I'm baffled that 1.) a group of people could rape a person and 2.) that people could watch and do nothing tot stop it. I was raised to not stand by and watch another person be abused, and so I can't wrap my head around not at least going off to call the police unless someone was keeping you from calling via gunpoint. Some psychologists have explained the willingness to watch and do nothing as Genovese Syndrome, named for a woman whose murder was overhead by neighbors who did not call the police. The theory's been disputed in some circles saying the facts of the Kitty Genovese case on which the theory is based are inaccurate.
According to CNN, some of the students are beginning to speak out about the school district's failure to create a safe environment. That's a ray of hope for the community that the Richmond school district has some students who care.
Anderson Cooper sent a link out on Twitter directing surfers to a story by David Mattingly on the rising number of school-age children dying violent deaths in Chicago, Ill. I posted the video at WSATA and wrote my thoughts in relation to New Orleans youth violence. Read post and watch video at this link.
I have written a poem-prayer that came from my trying to process the senseless deaths of Calyisse Perkins and Fitzgerald Phillips, both 19 and students at Southern University New Orleans. They pair dated, and in the wee hours of Sunday morning, April 19, two thugs abducted them and sent a request for $10,000 ransom via Phillips' cell phone to the parents. Today NOLA police discovered the teens' bodies in an abandoned house in Gert Town, and despite the police saying earlier that was no drug connection, today they say Phillips may have known his and Calyisse's murderers through a marijuana connection. Read earlier blog post/story here.
I saw her on the news this morning, Calyisse's mother, pleading for her daughter's safe return. She could not understand why anyone would harm her baby, 19, who'd hurt no one. And this mother had no money to pay ransom.
Their lives held promise, young lovers in college, but I am guilty of a hopeless heart. I did not believe Calyisse breathed. Nor had faith Fitzgerald, the boyfriend, lived. The stench of a killer's lies lingered, to ask for ransom when the body's cold.
And Sheila Reneau, the mother, wept. And I wept when they found the bodies hidden in an empty Gert Town house, two black teens murdered by two black adult males and cast into an abandoned shack like garbage.
Lord, You sit high but look low. and see that the heart of man makes evil. You, the Creator of all. And you say to us Fear not.
Forgive me, Lord. I am afraid. Forgive me, Lord. I am angry. Forgive me, Lord. I want blood-- an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth-- My heart trembles with rage at this evil done to teens dreaming dreams.
And my heart gazes at the mountaintop, looking for her mother and his mother, and our brothers and sisters, our aunts and uncles, for the circle of elders.
We seek a place of solace, sanctuary from this Evil that roams our streets, drunk on our children's blood.
The streets of Gert Town howl a too-familiar blues. Souls fold over sobbing, ripping with wails. Houses flood with wailing mothers' tears, and NOLA's soul goes low, almost into the coffin.
I should go to these women and add my tears to a river in Gert Town. I should find Sheila Reneau and hold her to me. I should find Fitzgerald's people and let our grief flow into the streets, swell and flood the city until our tears reach Your throne.
She is every mother and I am every mother. We bury our faces in hands ill equipped to fight. We see a new monster. We have not seen so hideous a creature before that jigs down our streets, picking the fruit of our womb from its teeth with our ancestors' bones.
I hold my children to to my breast, chilled at the rustlings of death. But Calyisse's mother is missing a daughter and Fitzgerald's mother is missing a son.
We crawl through blackness listening for a flutter of wings. Send angels, Lord. Let them bring us flaming swords.
When John and Maggie Anderson of Oak Park, Ill., started The Ebony Experiment on January 1 of this year, they thought of it as "an academic test about how to reinvest in an underserved community and lessen society's burden." For one year the family has pledged to buy everything they possibly can from black-owned businesses--health and beauty supplies, gas, clothing, food, books, medical services, etc.
They moved their personal accounts to Covenant Bank in Chicago, but have been unable to switch their mortgage and student loans to black-owned financial institutions. And they haven't changed utility companies. (The LA Times, Family buys black for one year)
The Andersons hope to strengthen African-American communities, to build wealth in black neighborhoods, and encourage economic independence and responsibility. John Anderson told the LA Times last month, "When a thriving African American or urban community is realized, certainly as a society as a whole we all win."
From The Ebony Experiment website.
So, you'd think everyone, seeing the crippled state of many black communities in America--hearing of the crime on the nightly news, reading about the higher rates of unemployment, learning of the crisis in inner-city education--would cheer the Andersons on, but you'd be wrong.
In addition to watching the CNN video above, you may also see at Electronic Villagean MSNBC interview with the Andersons in which the couple addresses common criticism of the project. In it Mr. Anderson says it's not about exclusion but about self-help economics and that he and his family are guinea pigs in a study. The Ebony Experiment website has other interviews posted, including one with the Urban League that's also at YouTube. In that interview they stress that they hope to dispel the myths about black-owned businesses. I assume they mean the stigma of inferior services and quality associated with black businesses.
While some people wonder how can they join the Ebony Experiment, others off-handedly declare it racist and against the teachings of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Limiting yourself to stores based on the criteria of race and not quality of service or merchandise is, of course, racist but also runs the risk of supporting stores that might not be worth saving. That's one of the reason I avoided the Christian stores, I would rather base my purchase on quality, not some claim to kinship that may or may not be true. (Reformed Chicks Blabbing)
I don't think the writers at Reformed Chicks Blabbing, a blog on Belief.net, are women of color, and so the call to participate in the Ebony Experiment is not made to them. You know, sometimes you have to know if you are the person to whom others are speaking, and if you're not and what's being spoken of doesn't harm you, then let it go.
Ironically, the declaration that The Ebony Experiment is racist is the knee-jerk response of people who see in black and white and think to be color-blind is to be free of racism. They are wrong!
Another faith blog written by an African-American male shares a broader, more informed view:
In today’s crippled economy, is there a place for the Kwanzaa principle of Ujamma, or cooperative economics? ... This issue elicits many questions, particularly the one alluded to in the excerpt above concerning the criticism that if members of the white community promoted something as brazenly separatist and racialized as this, they would be immediately castigated as racists. And that suggestion of a double standard is understandable. Yet, whether we agree or disagree with that contention, I think it’s important to acknowledge the complexity of our national history around the issues of race, slavery, segregation, and social justice. Though we’ve long since repudiated and attempted to move forward from our nation’s biggest failures on the matter of race, a lot of the residue of our failures continue to inform our personal and institutional relationships today. To ignore that fact only hinders our efforts toward true progress and reconciliation. (Ed Gilbreath at The Reconciliation Blog)
A note at the end of the full post attempts to put this topic in the perspective of Obama's win and so-called "post-racial" America.
I keep hearing about post-racial America in the Age of Obama and while I loathe the "Obama the Magic Negro" song, as I listen to people go on about the end of racism in the Obama age, I see the validity of some points David Ehrenstein made in his opinion piece, the one that supposedly inspired the offensive jingle. There are Americans out there, mostly not people of color, who think Obama's election induced a mystical exorcism of all things racist. They're deluding themselves.
Since I've mentioned Ehrenstein, let me add that people who can't separate the insulting song from Ehrenstein's commentary seem to be stricken with a Boolean logic mentality that strips them of complex thought. There is no magic potion for racism and the evils it births, and under magic potions and fairy tales fall notions of a color blind society, one black savior, paternalistic white knights, benevolent plantation masters, that American economics is pure capitalism, and the ideology that all humans are tubs that must only sit on their own bottoms and never get help from other tubs. But back to the Andersons' undertaking.
I appreciate Ed Gilbreath's reference to the Kwanzaa principleUjamaa, with the exception that invoking Kwanzaa gives the impression that cooperative economics within the black community is a concept as young as Kwanzaa. In the early 1900s Marcus Garvey, a Jamaican immigrant, built the largest African-American organization in history promoting black economic independence. Before Garvey, educator Booker T. Washington, author of Up From Slavery, was "an advocate for African American economic power" in the late 1800s, reports a scholar quoted at the LA Times.
Today the world has shrunken, and so it's unlikely any group can ever claim true economic independence again unless it's in its own nation behind impenetrable walls. We are all connected, as the current global economic crisis makes clear, but prosperous black communities is a dream that can be followed and claimed. Yet, how can it come to pass if more African-American men and women don't succeed at owning their own businesses and use their business skills to cater to the needs of African-American communities the same way that the Italians have, the Irish have, the Jewish people have, the Asians have, etc.?
Comments from Jack and Jill:
Yes, whites of a certain mentality hear that black people seek to strengthen their communities through mutual support and they scream foul, charge racism, and say blacks have a double standard? For those who know American history, however, it's clear that critics of black self-help have a double standard. As the commenters at Jack and Jill Politics say, other ethnic groups have always done in their own groups what the Andersons propose. Why is it wrong when African-Americans do the same? More curious, I suspect some of the same people who call the Ebony Experiment racist also say at the dinner table, "Black people are always looking for a hand out from the government. When are they going to solve their own problems themselves?"
Slavery, Segregation and Economics
Slavery prevented African-Americans from having the experience of building the ethnic economic base that other groups have built in this nation. Upon their arrival, blacks were immediately stripped of cultural identity--language, customs, family connections, control of their own bodies, and whatever material wealth, even the grit of African sand--was stolen. The abolition of slavery, the demolition of segregation, did not magically restore these losses. Neither does the election of a black president.
So, when I saw the Andersons' story and read that the family has received hate mail accusing them of racism and threatening to not ever buy from black businesses again, I wasn't alarmed. Boycott, I thought, Princess Bride revisited, joins the word "Inconceivable!" Boycott ... "You keep using that word. I don't think it means what you think it means."
A white person supposedly speaking for other white people threatening a boycott against black business is the perfect example of a fool speaking and removing all doubt that he is a fool.
The threat sent to the Andersons reminded me of hearing Pat Buchanan on a local talk show, The Austin Rhodes Show, in Augusta, Ga., in the 90s, ranting about either Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton calling for a boycott of businesses. Buchanan blustered, "I think that we (whites) should boycott black businesses!"
I asked for a tape but was told, just minutes after the show ended, that they'd lost it; however, hearing Bucahanan say whites should boycott black businesses was enough to convince me he may have mental issues.
If you're not African-American, tell me now how many times have you purchased your car, clothes, groceries from a black-owned company? How often do you open a copy of Black Enterprise magazine?
If you exclude Motown, even much of the music you may have purchased by black recording artists did not come from a black-owned recording studio and distributor. Motown itself is no longer a "black-owned" business. So, unless you buy lots of HipHop from independent producers, it's unlikely that even your entertainment comes from a "black" company. How can you boycott something you don't use anyway? And no, Oprah doesn't count here. The point being made is not that white people should feel guilty for not "buying black," but that white people who make stupid statements like "I'm not going to buy anything from black businesses" because the Ebony Experiment is racist or label it racist show that they're out of touch with reality.
Just as any specious "white power movement" is a redundancy of the predominant social system, attempts to assert "buy white only" is a redundancy of the predominant economic system despite the rise of China. The perception of some whites that the Ebony Experiment is racist is another example of blindness to privilege. Having no conscious sense of the power of white skin and wealth, some whites misinterpret black empowerment and any search for black independence as racism, meaning the same method of oppression white institutions have employed for years against people of color, but it's not the same.
A blogger who seems to have a similar view is Renee at Womanist Musings. After posting objections to The Ebony Experiment she found at The Black Informant, she writes:
The resounding theme in the above commentary is white panic and a denial of white privilege. I personally love the question of what if whites only supported white owned businesses? Since the majority of the business in the United States are owned by white people chances are you already do. You will further note that the WET (white entertainment network) argument made its usual appearance. When I see this supposition, I often want to ask about the status of ABC, NBC, CBS, CNN and in particular FOX news; they clearly are not devoted to promoting diversity either in their news, or entertainment programming and BET which is barely managing to stay in business is a threat. The bottom line is that unless something unfairly promotes whiteness it is deemed racist by those that are determined to maintain undeserved white privilege. (Renee at WM)
Just how many people slept through history class is what I've been wondering. Since I first heard about the Ebony Experiment in March, history and how we arrived at this point in time, has poked me.
America was once a legally segregated nation. As a result, there were businesses within the black community owned by black people that thrived, but a stigma clung to them. Blacks went to black-owned establishments because they had no place else to go that wouldn't force them to sit in the back or enter through the kitchen door. Entry into white establishments was forbidden and as a result white businesses carried the mystique of a wonderland. Conversely, black businesses were viewed as inferior.
When segregation ended, blacks could shop and eat wherever they wished and so flocked to what had once been taboo, abandoning black business owners who had served them for decades, assuming they had arrived at a better place. Or, as scholar James E. Clingman told The Times, blacks "began patronizing white-owned businesses under the misconception that buying white signified blacks' upward socioeconomic mobility."
Another casualty of segregation was the reputation of the black professional who had been educated in black schools. Separate was not equal. My parents and grandparents could see that with the raggedy books that landed on their school desks, torn and worn by white children who used them first. The perception grew that white children received a better education, which was true in many ways, and the consequence was that white professionals educated in white schools were assumed to be superior to black professionals educated in black schools.
I remember my grandmother saying that she wouldn't go to a black doctor. Later I understood it was because she believed the white doctor was not necessarily smarter but that the white doctor had access to the latest in equipment and the best medical schools.
But let's go with the positive side of the Anderson story. According to the LA Times, the hate mail they've received is a small part of the Anderson's correspondence. Most of the comments have been supportive--"people see the endeavor as beneficial to all."
Look for this post to be cross-posted at BlogHer.com later. I decided to add this post to The Urban Mother's Book of Prayers because strengthening the black community's economy will directly impact the quality of city life because many major cities have large black populations.
I decided to post this video not because I have anything to add to U. S. Attorney General Eric Holder's blunt commentary about this nation's racial issues but because of his comments featured later in the video about Black History Month. You can scroll down and read Holder's entire speech in the second half of this post.
Earlier this month, after reading the "do we need Black History Month" debate around the web, I posted about the issue at this blog and said, "Yes, we need it." At BlogHer, Laina D. recently wrote commentary on the subject with links to multiple blogs talking about this topic.
The beginning of the video is about reaction to Holder saying the following:
"Though this nation has proudly thought of itself as an ethnic melting pot, in things racial, we have always been and we -- I believe continue to be in too many ways essentially a nation of cowards," Holder told Department of Justice employees at an event Wednesday celebrating Black History Month.
He said that Americans are afraid to talk about race, adding that "certain subjects are off-limits and that to explore them risks at best embarrassment and at worst the questioning of one's character." (Full Story)
Following his address, Holder declined to say whether his unexpectedly stern message would be translated into policy.
"It's a question of being honest with ourselves and racial issues that divide us," Holder told reporters in a hastily arranged news conference. "It's not easy to talk about it. We have to have the guts to be honest with each other, accept criticism, accept new proposals." (earlier CNN story)
Anybody looking for him to take it back, shouldn't hold his/her breath, it seems. Clearly Holder, who is the nation's first African-American Attorney General, is not trying to win a popularity contest. Good for him. America kept asking itself was it ready for a black president. Apparently the question should have been, "Is America for a black man to be top dog at the Department of Justice who speaks his mind?"
What he said about the need for Black History Month got lost in all the hoopla about him calling us a nation of cowards. People always react to that word "cowards." Since before the days of the old west, you call anybody yellow-bellied, chicken, or coward and you're looking for a fight. Perhaps Holder is declaring that he's not afraid to put on his boxing gloves, and really, no Attorney General worth his salt should be.
While people are criticizing Holder's comments, mostly because they're reacting emotionally, we also have in the news a perfect example of cowardice on racial issues, The New York Post's wish-washy apology for its chimp cartoon. Don't you get tired of folks making racist comments in public or posting racist propaganda or racist cartoons and then saying, that's not what we meant?
I've been amused by the people criticizing Holder's words on the basis of "we just elected the first black president," but I also have wondered about the African-Americans who applaud what he said. Do they think he's not including some of us as well in the coward statement? Time will tell if he's got his eyes on any brown folk with yellow bellies. Racial matters deserve introspection on all sides.
And when it comes to black history, since that was part of the reason for Holder's speech in the first place, many African-Americans know only some basic facts about black firsts to do such and such. They haven't internalized the lessons of history nor have they taught black history to their children. They think it's the school's responsibility to do that.
What I mean by internalizing black history is that some of us haven't reached back and culled from our rich history the strength of our ancestors to overcome anything thrown at us. I know I've been guilty of that before, hanging out briefly at the pity party, especially on personal issues. I've had to remind myself of the strong women and men who went before me, survived, and did so with style and grace.
Remarks as Prepared for Delivery by Attorney General Eric Holder at the Department of Justice African American History Month Program
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Every year, in February, we attempt to recognize and to appreciate black history. It is a worthwhile endeavor for the contributions of African Americans to this great nation are numerous and significant. Even as we fight a war against terrorism, deal with the reality of electing an African American as our President for the first time and deal with the other significant issues of the day, the need to confront our racial past, and our racial present, and to understand the history of African people in this country, endures. One cannot truly understand America without understanding the historical experience of black people in this nation. Simply put, to get to the heart of this country one must examine its racial soul.
Though this nation has proudly thought of itself as an ethnic melting pot, in things racial we have always been and continue to be, in too many ways, essentially a nation of cowards. Though race related issues continue to occupy a significant portion of our political discussion, and though there remain many unresolved racial issues in this nation, we, average Americans, simply do not talk enough with each other about race. It is an issue we have never been at ease with and given our nation’s history this is in some ways understandable. And yet, if we are to make progress in this area we must feel comfortable enough with one another, and tolerant enough of each other, to have frank conversations about the racial matters that continue to divide us. But we must do more- and we in this room bear a special responsibility. Through its work and through its example this Department of Justice, as long as I am here, must - and will - lead the nation to the "new birth of freedom" so long ago promised by our greatest President. This is our duty and our solemn obligation.
We commemorated five years ago, the 50th anniversary of the landmark Brown v. Board of Education decision. And though the world in which we now live is fundamentally different than that which existed then, this nation has still not come to grips with its racial past nor has it been willing to contemplate, in a truly meaningful way, the diverse future it is fated to have. To our detriment, this is typical of the way in which this nation deals with issues of race. And so I would suggest that we use February of every year to not only commemorate black history but also to foster a period of dialogue among the races. This is admittedly an artificial device to generate discussion that should come more naturally, but our history is such that we must find ways to force ourselves to confront that which we have become expert at avoiding.
As a nation we have done a pretty good job in melding the races in the workplace. We work with one another, lunch together and, when the event is at the workplace during work hours or shortly thereafter, we socialize with one another fairly well, irrespective of race. And yet even this interaction operates within certain limitations. We know, by "American instinct" and by learned behavior, that certain subjects are off limits and that to explore them risks, at best embarrassment, and, at worst, the questioning of one’s character. And outside the workplace the situation is even more bleak in that there is almost no significant interaction between us. On Saturdays and Sundays America in the year 2009 does not, in some ways, differ significantly from the country that existed some fifty years ago. This is truly sad. Given all that we as a nation went through during the civil rights struggle it is hard for me to accept that the result of those efforts was to create an America that is more prosperous, more positively race conscious and yet is voluntarily socially segregated.
As a nation we should use Black History month as a means to deal with this continuing problem. By creating what will admittedly be, at first, artificial opportunities to engage one another we can hasten the day when the dream of individual, character based, acceptance can actually be realized. To respect one another we must have a basic understanding of one another. And so we should use events such as this to not only learn more about the facts of black history but also to learn more about each other. This will be, at first, a process that is both awkward and painful but the rewards are potentially great. The alternative is to allow to continue the polite, restrained mixing that now passes as meaningful interaction but that accomplishes little. Imagine if you will situations where people- regardless of their skin color- could confront racial issues freely and without fear. The potential of this country, that is becoming increasingly diverse, would be greatly enhanced. I fear however, that we are taking steps that, rather than advancing us as a nation are actually dividing us even further. We still speak too much of "them" and not "us". There can, for instance, be very legitimate debate about the question of affirmative action. This debate can, and should, be nuanced, principled and spirited. But the conversation that we now engage in as a nation on this and other racial subjects is too often simplistic and left to those on the extremes who are not hesitant to use these issues to advance nothing more than their own, narrow self interest. Our history has demonstrated that the vast majority of Americans are uncomfortable with, and would like to not have to deal with, racial matters and that is why those, black or white, elected or self-appointed, who promise relief in easy, quick solutions, no matter how divisive, are embraced. We are then free to retreat to our race protected cocoons where much is comfortable and where progress is not really made. If we allow this attitude to persist in the face of the most significant demographic changes that this nation has ever confronted- and remember, there will be no majority race in America in about fifty years- the coming diversity that could be such a powerful, positive force will, instead, become a reason for stagnation and polarization. We cannot allow this to happen and one way to prevent such an unwelcome outcome is to engage one another more routinely- and to do so now.
As I indicated before, the artificial device that is Black History month is a perfect vehicle for the beginnings of such a dialogue. And so I urge all of you to use the opportunity of this month to talk with your friends and co-workers on the other side of the divide about racial matters. In this way we can hasten the day when we truly become one America.
It is also clear that if we are to better understand one another the study of black history is essential because the history of black America and the history of this nation are inextricably tied to each other. It is for this reason that the study of black history is important to everyone- black or white. For example, the history of the United States in the nineteenth century revolves around a resolution of the question of how America was going to deal with its black inhabitants. The great debates of that era and the war that was ultimately fought are all centered around the issue of, initially, slavery and then the reconstruction of the vanquished region. A dominant domestic issue throughout the twentieth century was, again, America's treatment of its black citizens. The civil rights movement of the 1950's and 1960's changed America in truly fundamental ways. Americans of all colors were forced to examine basic beliefs and long held views. Even so, most people, who are not conversant with history, still do not really comprehend the way in which that movement transformed America. In racial terms the country that existed before the civil rights struggle is almost unrecognizable to us today. Separate public facilities, separate entrances, poll taxes, legal discrimination, forced labor, in essence an American apartheid, all were part of an America that the movement destroyed. To attend her state’s taxpayer supported college in 1963 my late sister in law had to be escorted to class by United States Marshals and past the state’s governor, George Wallace. That frightening reality seems almost unthinkable to us now. The civil rights movement made America, if not perfect, better.
In addition, the other major social movements of the latter half of the twentieth century- feminism, the nation's treatment of other minority groups, even the anti-war effort- were all tied in some way to the spirit that was set free by the quest for African American equality. Those other movements may have occurred in the absence of the civil rights struggle but the fight for black equality came first and helped to shape the way in which other groups of people came to think of themselves and to raise their desire for equal treatment. Further, many of the tactics that were used by these other groups were developed in the civil rights movement.
And today the link between the black experience and this country is still evident. While the problems that continue to afflict the black community may be more severe, they are an indication of where the rest of the nation may be if corrective measures are not taken. Our inner cities are still too conversant with crime but the level of fear generated by that crime, now found in once quiet, and now electronically padlocked suburbs is alarming and further demonstrates that our past, present and future are linked. It is not safe for this nation to assume that the unaddressed social problems in the poorest parts of our country can be isolated and will not ultimately affect the larger society.
Black history is extremely important because it is American history. Given this, it is in some ways sad that there is a need for a black history month. Though we are all enlarged by our study and knowledge of the roles played by blacks in American history, and though there is a crying need for all of us to know and acknowledge the contributions of black America, a black history month is a testament to the problem that has afflicted blacks throughout our stay in this country. Black history is given a separate, and clearly not equal, treatment by our society in general and by our educational institutions in particular. As a former American history major I am struck by the fact that such a major part of our national story has been divorced from the whole. In law, culture, science, athletics, industry and other fields, knowledge of the roles played by blacks is critical to an understanding of the American experiment. For too long we have been too willing to segregate the study of black history. There is clearly a need at present for a device that focuses the attention of the country on the study of the history of its black citizens. But we must endeavor to integrate black history into our culture and into our curriculums in ways in which it has never occurred before so that the study of black history, and a recognition of the contributions of black Americans, become commonplace. Until that time, Black History Month must remain an important, vital concept. But we have to recognize that until black history is included in the standard curriculum in our schools and becomes a regular part of all our lives, it will be viewed as a novelty, relatively unimportant and not as weighty as so called "real" American history.
I, like many in my generation, have been fortunate in my life and have had a great number of wonderful opportunities. Some may consider me to be a part of black history. But we do a great disservice to the concept of black history recognition if we fail to understand that any success that I have had, cannot be viewed in isolation. I stood, and stand, on the shoulders of many other black Americans. Admittedly, the identities of some of these people, through the passage of time, have become lost to us- the men, and women, who labored long in fields, who were later legally and systemically discriminated against, who were lynched by the hundreds in the century just past and those others who have been too long denied the fruits of our great American culture. The names of too many of these people, these heroes and heroines, are lost to us. But the names of others of these people should strike a resonant chord in the historical ear of all in our nation: Frederick Douglass, W.E.B. DuBois, Walter White, Langston Hughes, Marcus Garvey, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Joe Louis, Jackie Robinson, Charles Drew, Paul Robeson, Ralph Ellison, James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, Vivian Malone, Rosa Parks, Marion Anderson, Emmit Till. These are just some of the people who should be generally recognized and are just some of the people to whom all of us, black and white, owe such a debt of gratitude. It is on their broad shoulders that I stand as I hope that others will some day stand on my more narrow ones.
Black history is a subject worthy of study by all our nation's people. Blacks have played a unique, productive role in the development of America. Perhaps the greatest strength of the United States is the diversity of its people and to truly understand this country one must have knowledge of its constituent parts. But an unstudied, not discussed and ultimately misunderstood diversity can become a divisive force. An appreciation of the unique black past, acquired through the study of black history, will help lead to understanding and true compassion in the present, where it is still so sorely needed, and to a future where all of our people are truly valued.
The below video is from CNN, but this story has been all over in local news down here, a young mother from Kenner tossing her baby into Lake Pontchartrain. Kenner is part of the metropolitian New Orleans-Metarie-Kenner area.
"Ciara Monique Craig, 20, has been charged with first-degree murder in connection with the death of her infant daughter," reports WDSU. WWL TV has a longer story, and posted Craig's picture, which you see here. According to WWL, the mother is 21 not 20.
Craig told police that she had received counseling about the pregnancy.
“She had spoke with some health care officials at some point before, during her pregnancy to see what options she (had)," Caraway said. "She actually considered abortion, (but) she was too far along, I believe is what she said. And when that wasn't an option, she tried to conceal the pregnancy from her family.” (WWL TV)
Look at her. She's somebody's baby herself. Per a local news source, her mother convinced her to turn herself in.
The police spokesperson on the CNN video said that it was a beautiful healthy baby and there's no justification for it. True, there's no justification for it in the mind of a sane person. Does Craig look rational to you? If that photo was taken at the station following her surrender, I'm going with no, not sane at all.
Perhaps depression is at play here or some other mental stress disorder. She decided to kill the child rather than face her parents. I wonder what's going through their minds now other than unplugged grief.
The newborn's murder has caused activists to conclude that Louisiana's Safe Haven law, a provision that allows distressed mothers to abandon their newborns without penalty, is not well-publicized. Safe Haven laws were back in the news last hear when Nebraska had a rash of harried parents abandoning much older children. It was then that I learned of Lousiana's Safe Haven Law.
Perhaps if Craig had known about the law and that she could leave the baby at a safe haven spot without being arrested, she would have done so. But I'm thinking safe haven laws are for the rational mother, not an unbalanced woman afraid of her parents.
Craig tossed the baby into the lake in front of witnesses. Clearly something's amiss in her mind.
Kenner Police Annouce Arrest in Case of Newborn Thrown in Lake
In keeping with theme of this blog, I should offer a prayer or meditation now. Words escape me. However, I have old poetry about child abuse. I'll return to this tragedy later after hours of meditation.
From The Times Picayune: Late on the night of Jan. 18, just 24 hours after the murder of Wendy Byrne in the French Quarter, New Orleans police released a pair of computerized composite sketches of two teenagers suspected in the crime.
In one, a doe-eyed youth with a buzz cut and pointy ears peers out from the page. The other features a teen with twists in his hair that fall to the tops of his ears.
When the teens' mothers turned their sons over to New Orleans police detectives days later, police leaders heralded the "incredible" accuracy of the composites, saying one mother recognized her son from the publicized sketch and called police.
... "We release the composites (to the media), then, boom," Bouyelas said. "We got this kid."
... (Reggie) Douglas' mother saw the sketch, recognized her son and called police. In a news conference last week, Riley said: "The composite of the first subject with the dreadlocks was so close and so accurate, it's incredible."
With Douglas, 15, in custody, the mother of 15-year-old Drey Lewis -- a friend of Douglas' who was never sketched by police -- turned in her son. Police said the teens confessed to their roles in the fatal shooting and attempted armed robbery. A third suspect, Ernest Cloud, 14, who was the subject of a second sketch released by police, surrendered to authorities Thursday night.
It's not clear what role, if any, the sketch played in Cloud's arrest. By the time he turned himself in, police knew his name, thanks to his friends' confessions. (NOLA.com, Wednesday, January 28, 2009)
The Thoughts ...
The first mother who turned her son in to New Orleans police has been on my mind. Even as I watch the inauguration of President Barack Obama, she stood at the edges of my thoughts, a specter whispering, "Rejoice now and see the silver lining, but remember dark clouds remain. We've got work to do."
Imagine being the mother who saw your child's face on the late news marked as the face of a murderer.
Two of the black teens, age 15, will be prosecuted as adults. It has not yet been determined whether the 14-year-old who has been arrested shall be prosecuted as an adult as well, and WWL TV reports his family is perplexed that the boy's been connected to a murder.
The victim, Wendy Byrne, a white female, was popular in the French Quarter, and her death has sparked more protests that NOLA police aren't doing enough to protect citizens. Yet, shortly before her murder, marchers walked the city's streets, taking a stand against city violence, much of which impacts the African-American community directly, too often the home of both victim and perpetrator.
Still, I keep wondering about these mothers, what went through their minds, why did they turn in their sons? What we usually see are parents denying that their children could ever commit murder, such as William Balfour's mother. Balfour is the young man accused of murdering the mother, brother and nephew of actress and singer Jennifer Hudson. His mother appeared on CNN's Nancy Grace show defending him, and isn't that the more common, expected reaction of a mother.
I have found no interviews with the mothers who turned in their sons in the Byrne case. Perhaps they've refused to be interviewed, and I can understand if they have because turning in your son does not mean acceptance that your son committed a murder, while acceptance that your son committed a murder is not a time to be on camera. It's a time to mourn.
As the Apostle Paul asked in Romans 8, "What shall we say then to these things?"
Frequently we have a lot to say about crime committed by black youth and other minorities -- books and dissertations on solutions, a push for social justice programs, more parent training, and a cacophony of judgmental rants on the failure of urban mothers, single mothers, African-American mothers, Latina mothers to nurture children "properly." More often, however, we have nothing to say. We shake our heads having no strength left to wag our tongues. What we could say is a prayer, which is what I will try to do.
Urban Mother's Prayer #1
God, we look to the heavens but do not see your face. We look at the city and suspect you have abandoned us. What in your universe tells us you remain?
You made the heavens. As your word says, You knew me before I was formed in my mother's womb. You spoke and made our sun, these mountains, each riotous river, the Redwood tree, and jeweled night sky. ...
We've made our cities.
On this one day, if no other, I choose to believe You are there, you are here with me and with us, with every father who cherishes children, with each mother who weeps nightly then awakens daily to nourish her babies, with each mother who does neither.
God, bless the mother who reached for her son and found him gone. Bless the father who looked for his daughter and found her missing. Bless the woman who took her son to the gallows, loving him still, Bless the womb of every woman bearing children.
Bless each child.
Give every official the ears of the sage and a heart of grace to judge as you judge, to sentence as you would.
Wisdom, we seek. Justice, we pray. Forgiveness, we seed. Your mercy, we plead. Forever in your name, in love. Amen.
For the last ten years, possibly, I've felt I should devote more time to prayer, and as a poet I've frequently felt too much time is spent on romantic love or lust. When do we arrive at a place of offering our words for something bigger than us?
I know it sounds hokey, to some it even sounds mad, but at my age it's time to do what I feel led to do not what others expect me to do. And so, here I am out on a limb, writing a blog about the struggles urban mothers face, struggles that are not always the same as mine, while offering a prayer, poem, song or psalm, for healing or justice.
I am in the right city for this task, New Orleans, La., whatever problem you name that threatens cities and leaves young mothers to tremble at night in their beds, New Orleans's got it.
