tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-194088622024-03-14T06:34:25.482-05:00elle, phdhistory provost of historical revolution-- so entitled by a certain <a href="http://guyaneseterror.blogspot.com">Black Amazon</a>ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.comBlogger1028125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-16621784579540861442013-10-18T20:58:00.000-05:002013-10-18T21:52:24.904-05:00G.S. ... G.S. ... G.S.U.!!!I’m going to start with two things:<br />
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1) <a href="http://www.africa.upenn.edu/Articles_Gen/Letter_Birmingham.html">A quote from Dr. MLK, Jr</a>.: “Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was "well timed" in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word "Wait!" It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This "Wait" has almost always meant "Never." We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that "justice too long delayed is justice denied."<br />
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2) A couple of weeks ago, I had to take my African American history class to task. One of them had fallen asleep in class. Several others had out laptops, phones, and other devices despite my clear instructions in the syllabus and my reminders that, unless required, I don’t allow electronic devices. So, I told them that, once upon a time, I would’ve asked, “Do you treat your white professors like this?” but now, I don’t make it my business to figure out how they treat their white professors, I just know how they are NOT going to treat me. Because it is a majority black class, I also told them, “Don’t think, just because you look like me in some ways, that you haven’t internalized bullshit that tells you that you don’t have to respect me or my rules. I’m not going to let ANYONE mistreat me.”<br />
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I say that as a preface to my commentary on the situation with the Grambling State University football team. If you don’t know, Grambling is an HBCU and <a href="http://espn.go.com/college-football/story/_/id/9845085/grambling-state-tigers-players-school-officials-odds-playing-jackson-state-tigers">here is a brief synopsis of what’s happening</a>:<br />
<blockquote>Grambling State on Friday canceled its football game against Jackson State after Grambling's disgruntled players refused to travel to Jackson for the game Saturday.<br />
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The players -- upset with travel policies, poor facility conditions and a tumultuous coaching situation -- made a decision not to play at a team meeting Friday afternoon, a player told ESPN's Brett McMurphy.</blockquote><br />
I am writing because 1) I am from the Grambling-area and grew up with a deep love and admiration for the school and 2) my timeline has been flooded with Grambling alum and other HBCU alum/students who are horrified at the football team’s protest.<br />
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Off the top, let me be honest. I don't know all the circumstances. I am writing hurriedly on a Friday night. I’m a labor historian and a black feminist. I tend to be on the side of people who are protesting against unfair conditions. So, with just the bare bones of the story, my heart is with the football players.<br />
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The HBCU alums I am reading overwhelmingly think the protest is unfair to GSU and untimely, which is why I quoted Dr. King. When you are satisfied with the status quo, you will never see the need for protest. As a black woman, I do know where some of the alumni are coming from. We know that, no matter how many positive stories there are about HBCUs, no matter how well they serve our communities in a way that is profoundly needed, these are the stories that will get headlines (the protests, any financial mismanagement, any corrupt faculty/administrators, etc). We know that many of the problems are caused by state- and federal-level neglect of and disdain for such institutions. <br />
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But these young men can’t bear the brunt of that. They can’t suffer in silence for fear of airing our dirty laundry and having us publicly excoriated. They have a right to voice their concerns and an obligation to be true to themselves. They are not traitors. They are not untrue. They are probably not any of the nasty descriptors I have read just today. They don’t have to be quiet because the Bayou Classic is broadcast nationally. They don’t have to be quiet because of some broader goal. (Seriously, all of these comments reminded me of the pressure on some black women to keep quiet about our abuse and misuse at the hands of some black men. But that’s another post.) If it is a “privilege” to attend and play for GSU, then the university should reinforce why it is a “privilege.” Past glory and unquestioned loyalty will no longer do.<br />
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I quoted myself in point two, as a counter to people who think that black people cannot treat each other poorly and hurtfully. We can. I’m a living witness, given my personal and professional lives. I don’t have much else to say about that.<br />
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And, lest you think I am a complete outsider, bear in mind that I taught at GSU for one year. Nothing in my career has compared to teaching a majority black student body, many of whom understood where I was coming from, understood my politics, were used to black professors, and showed me so much love.<br />
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Despite all that, I knew I couldn’t stay. There are things that need to be addressed systemically and institutionally. I see the football players demanding that these things be addressed. And, while people might allege that they are not being true “G-men,” they are, potentially, being true to the centuries-long heritage of African American protest.<br />
ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-82400421722885820892013-04-09T10:00:00.000-05:002014-08-28T23:43:25.023-05:00Oh, Femen...<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FEMEN">Femen</a> declared last Thursday, 4 April 2013, "Topless Jihad Day," a response, <blockquote><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2013/apr/05/femen-topless-protest-gloriously-crude">in support of Amina Tyler</a>, a young Tunisian woman who has been targeted by Islamists after she put a bare-breasted picture of herself on her Facebook page in March with the words "Fuck Your Morals" and "My Body Belongs To Me, And Is Not The Source Of Anyone's Honour" painted across her chest.</blockquote>Tyler does need support; she has received <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/04/07/amina-tyler-topless-tunisian-protester-fears-for-life_n_3033352.html">death threats and is in fear for her life</a>.<br />
<br />
But, oh, Femen, the way you're going about this... <br />
<br />
Look, I must admit that I am not a big fan of their topless protests, anyway. I understand something of their sentiment--in a world in which so many women are (a)shamed about our bodies, told what to do with them, how they should look, what is (in)decent, and held to a moral double standard, unflinchingly baring those bodies can be read as a resistive gesture.<br />
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But, for women like me, who are a product of that world, yes, but a product of a history in which women who looked like me were commonly put on display as novelties, as scientific oddities, as evidence of the sexual grotesque, as a precursor to being sold into a life of forced sexual and manual labor, topless protests have no appeal.<br />
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They also have no appeal for many Muslimahs who "<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2013/04/05/muslim-women-against-femen-facebook-topless-jihad-pictures-amina-tyler_n_3021495.html">joined forces to protest against the work of Femen</a>" via a Facebook page called "<a href="https://www.facebook.com/MuslimWomenAgainstFemen">Muslim Women against Femen</a>." And in response to their protest, Femen slipped into the old tried-and-true colonialist, racist, condescending methods of some white feminists.<br />
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There is, of course, backstory here. There is a history of white feminists assuming they know what's best for non-white or non-Western women, a history of their exceptionalizing the oppression of non-white, non-Western women in effort to position the Western world as "better"/"more advanced," to construct non-white and/or non-Western men as more-of-all-those-negative-stereotypes that characterize them in the Western world, and to render non-white and/or non-Western women as perpetual victims in need of liberation. Whatever the progressive strengths of white women's feminism, it has not escaped a legacy of ethnocentrism and privilege. There is also, with regards to perceptions of "the Islamic world," a fascination with and disdain for the practice of veiling. There is a narrative that insists that every woman who covers herself is forced to do so and lives a life of misery under an oppressive religion and domineering, murderous men.<br />
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And so we come to Femen, members of which looked at the Muslim Women against Femen page, looked at the declarations of Muslimah pride, the statements that some Muslimahs found liberation in covering themselves, did not perceive of themselves as oppressed, were not in need of rescue, and did not see baring of the body as liberating, and responded in the most appalling ways. For example, <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2013/04/05/muslim-women-against-femen-facebook-topless-jihad-pictures-amina-tyler_n_3021495.html">Femen leader Inna Shevchenko said</a>, "They write on their posters that they don't need liberation but in their eyes it's written 'help me'. "<br />
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When I read that, my first thought, quite honestly, was that she sounded like a rapist: "Your mouth tells me one thing, but your eyes/your body/your actions say another." Shevchenko went on to say, "You know, through all history of humanity, all slaves deny that they are slaves."<br />
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I wish that were made up, I really do. Shevchenko's remarks are symbolic of the disconnect between many white feminists and other women. There is no actual engagement, no discussion, no validity placed on actual lived experiences, no consideration of cultural differences. Instead, there is a one-size-fits-all, we-know-what's-best-for-you-poor-dears approach that is infuriating, exclusionary, and, sadly, persistent. As Muslim Women Against Femen spokesperson Ayesha Latif mused, "We wonder how many Muslim women they have actually spoken to?"<br />
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Latif's comments highlight many of the issues non-white and/or non-Western have with organizations like Femen:<blockquote>"The assumption they promote is that we are subjugated creatures controlled by men, who need to be liberated by a group of perfectly groomed white women posing nude and using shock tactics.<br />
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"For them, the more you strip the more of a feminist you are - that’s Western feminist ideology. That’s not liberation for us, but that doesn’t make us anti-feminist.</blockquote>But in their narrow-mindedness, Femen cannot accept Latif's argument. Shevchenko generously explains that, "We are proud to share progressive ideas for all over the world." But that "sharing" too often takes on a veneer of coercion--"Trust us; you need liberating and we are going to do it <i>no matter what you say</i>!" <br />
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Shevchenko blithely asks, "Why do they have to cover their bodies?" but when Muslimahs give answers that indicate that they choose to do so, Femen ignores the answer.<br />
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That answer doesn't fit the script white feminists too often write for the "poor, oppressed, victimized WoC" character.ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-57564013405526160542013-04-08T14:00:00.000-05:002013-04-08T14:02:38.537-05:00Here Comes (My Musing On) Honey Boo Boo!<i>Here Comes Honey Boo Boo airs on <a href="http://tlc.howstuffworks.com/tv/here-comes-honey-boo-boo">TLC</a> and is in its second season.</i><br />
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For the ridiculous sum I pay for cable, I watch approximately 5 channels: Food Network, Cooking Channel, Investigation Discovery, the Oprah Winfrey Network, and any random channel that might have a show that lets me get my crime TV/forensic fix. When these channels simultaneously broadcast shows that I have seen or that I don’t like, my life is thrown into an uproar. I typically throw down the remote and pick up a book. Occasionally, I go channel-surfing. During one such surfing-in-desperation episode, I stumbled upon the premiere of “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.” I saw people on Facebook writing about it and got the gist of the background of the Shannon/Thompson family (if you’re not familiar, the show is about the now-seven-year-old Alana Thompson, who competes in children’s beauty pageants and her family, including her mom and dad, three older sisters, and new born niece). I expected to be critical of the beauty pageant element, in particular, and what I thought would be the drudgery of it (I don’t like reality TV), in general. I do have a lot to say about the children’s pageant element, but I found that, overall, I liked the family. One of the main reasons is that, as rural southerners, they are familiar to me. I found the mother, June Shannon, funny, confident, and patient with her girls. I watched more than one episode, a true sign of my interest.<br />
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But… within a few episodes, I realized, to the producers of this show, my feelings about June and her family must seem an anomaly. In my opinion, whoever is staging this show goes out of hir way to make this family a subject of mockery, ridicule, and disgust. From the opening montage, the audience gets a clue of what to expect—the family is first gathered, all smiling, as if they are posing for a portrait. And then, someone passes gas and they dissolve into arguing amongst themselves. Why, you may wonder, are they repeatedly cast in such an unflattering light? I believe we are meant to be repulsed by them because of a number of social characteristics of the family members: they are southern, working class, and some of them are fat.<br />
I cannot list all the tropes trotted out to play on stereotypes of people who fall in the aforementioned category, but let me try. We see June, the heaviest member of the family, eating. No shame in that right? But we see her eating in ways that we can look down upon. We see her eating with her hands. We see the show edited (for example, the Thanksgiving show) to make it seem that she eats non-stop. We see her eating large portions (as on her date with her partner, Sugar Bear). And we are encouraged to make judgments on how she cooks for and feeds her children, some of whom (including Alana) are heavy. She sprinkles sugar on their already sweetened cranberry sauce and says it’s how they get their servings of fruit. She makes a dish called “sketti” that includes spaghetti, ketchup, and butter. She tells us about feeding them venison culled from deer killed in car accidents. As if that does not drive the point home enough, Alana laments the fact that they haven’t had venison in a while, noting that, “It’s been a while since I had road kill in my belly.” Largely ignored is June’s comment that she is trying to feed a family of six on $80 a week, leaving little room for gourmet fare, and that she cooks almost everyday to control food costs.<br />
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And, oh, these uncouth southerners! The children curse. The parents curse. They argue and laugh loudly. The camera makes sure to document each time they pass gas or burp or pick their noses. They play in mud on several episodes (I mean, you know how we southerners love our dirt—food, toy, flooring—it’s multi-purpose!). They go to “Redneck Games.” The editing of one episode emphasizes that gnats fly around them. When Alana meets the current Ms. Georgia, Ms. Georgia notes that she is unsure of how far the little girl will go in the pageant world because of her lack of refinement. And attempts to teach Alana “proper” etiquette seem exasperating for the child and the instructor, as if the little girl is hopeless!<br />
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The presented image of Sugar Bear, too, is often unflattering. He is always shown with a pinch of chewing tobacco in his mouth, leading to comments about his breath. He speaks softly and seems shy and, quite often, scenes are edited to emphasize that June is the “boss” and the girls pay him little attention. This further contributes to the appearance of the family as disordered, given our culture’s creation and castigation of “matriarch” figure and common lamentations about men losing their status in various ways. But I don’t see Sugar Bear as weak because he is quiet. In fact, in Sugar Bear, I see my own dad and my favorite uncle. My dad was a quiet man who loved pickup trucks and hunting and fishing and dealt with my sister and me gently. My uncle is much the same way and, like Sugar Bear and many southern men, he’s usually chewing a pinch of tobacco and clamoring for a “spit cup.” I do not find him disgusting. I have never been repulsed by his breath or his tobacco habit. A quiet disposition does not indicate a lack of engagement or importance in a family circle. Sugar Bear’s love for June and those girls is obvious. He works hard for his family. And when June’s oldest daughter, his step-daughter, has a baby, his sweet words about how she reminded him of Alana and seeing him cuddling the newborn reinforced the comparison I made between him and my dad.<br />
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The Shannon/Thompson family has a strong sense of themselves as working class southerners and are even untroubled by the term “redneck”—and why should they be, given “redneck’s” origin as a term to describe hard-working farmers whose necks were burned red by exposure to the sun? But given all the negative connotations that label has, it seems outside the realm of possibility to the producers of the show that one can be comfortable and even proud of a rural southern identity. In comments of posts or articles that talk about the show, you will commonly see them called “white trash,” as well. Now, I have to say, first, that while I understand the sentiments of poor white people and scholars who have tried to “reclaim” the term “white trash,” it is a very problematic term, particularly in its implication that “white trash” is such an anomaly that we must include a racial marker. Most white people are not perceived to be trash, thus the label; but what does this say we think about people of color? The racialized terms by which we are referred have been constructed in ways that imply an innate subordination, impoverishment, “less-ness” in a way that the term “white” has not been constructed. In fact, so anomalous is “white trash,” that scholar Matt Wray explored the idea that people given this label are often perceived as “<a href="http://www.dukeupress.edu/Catalog/ViewProduct.php?productid=8192">not quite white</a>.”<br />
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For the purposes of this essay, I want to focus on another adverse meaning of the labeling of the Shannon/Thompson family as “white trash”: in the words of Matt Wray and Annalee Newitz, “white trash” is often the “white Other,” “the difference,” indeed, the “threat” within the bounds of the privileged status of whiteness. There is no clearer evidence in “Honey Boo Boo” that the South and, in this case, white southerners are being othered, portrayed as foreign, unknown, and unknowable, than the fact that the family’s speech is captioned, as if our English is any more accented than that of people from other regions of the United States! But those other accents are normative, unnoticeable, default, and, in the end, not an accent at all, but the way “real” USians talk!<br />
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I think the whole family is portrayed in a way to make each member an object of ridicule, but I believe our greatest disgust is supposed to be reserved for June. June seems, to me, to have a great attitude. She finds the humor in many situations and she is affectionate with her girls. She is confident about her relationship with Sugar Bear and her attractiveness to him. She is a bit adventurous and she likes to have fun. June is also money savvy; she endeavors to be an “extreme couponer”: “You save money for your family — that’s what it’s all about,” <a href="http://dailysavings.allyou.com/2013/01/07/honey-boo-boo-trust-fund/">she said</a> [on Jimmy Kimmel Live]. “I could be a multi-millionare and still want to get the best deal for my family.” Additionally, “she’s putting the show’s earnings into trust funds for her children,” noting that, “I want my kids to look back and say, ‘Mama played it smart.’”<br />
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Funny, confident, beautiful, smart… apparently, those are all things forbidden to fat southern women. When June decides to have fun on a water slide, the camera focuses on the fact that she struggles to climb it (even then, she laughs amiably at herself and is clearly having a good time, but the joke is supposed to be on her—HaHa! She’s too fat for this!). She notes that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and that she and Sugar Bear both appreciate her beauty (a fact that he confirms). Yet, she is shown as the opposite of all those things that are constructed as beautiful in our society, from her disdain for makeup to her refusal to obsess over her weight. And, true to common characterization of southerners, there are plenty of “duh” moments when we are given the impression that the family members are not intelligent. I cannot, in one post, catalogue all the ways this woman is mocked and cast as the butt of some joke that everyone else is in on.<br />
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But, what really endears June, and indeed, all her family, to me, is the fact that, in the face of a country that derides most things about them, they STAY proud and true to who they are, something that I understand as (and I deeply, deeply hope is) a refusal to accept the mandate that they apologize for being themselves, for being working-class and southern. When I see June, I am reminded of <a href="http://www.shakesville.com/2007/09/happy-go-lucky.html">Liss’s post</a> about having the audacity to be fat and happy and I can’t help smiling myself. For me, the othering of the South and southerners, the positioning of us as inferior to northerners, the constant stream of jokes about our stupidity and “in-breeding,” our “strange” food (and even deadly, until soul food and southern food are properly gentrified by northern chefs—but that’s another post!) and weird customs, means that I proclaim my southern-ness often and loudly, from the language I use on social media to referring to myself as a southern (b)elle to making a conscious effort to use my “real” voice in my classes and other settings so that my accent, which I find lovely and luscious, shines through. And while part of that has come from the process of being comfortable in my own skin, part of it is DEFINITELY a “Ha! I am progressive, smart, funny AND southern”-thumbing-of-my-nose at those who would believe such a person cannot exist. I read June’s actions and attitude in the same light.<br />
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I have a delightful feeling that I am right.<br />
ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-55516514520848394292013-04-05T10:55:00.000-05:002013-04-05T10:55:47.296-05:00Aargh!Sometimes, I hate reading the news. Between President Obama's willingness to cut Social Security and Medicare, cuts "<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/04/05/obama-social-security-cuts_n_3019123.html">which would affect veterans, the poor and the older Americans</a>," and the state of Tennessee's foolishness:<br />
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"<a href="http://colorlines.com/archives/2013/04/tennessee_gets_closer_to_passing_bill_that_ties_welfare_to_school_grades.html">A Tennessee bill that would cut welfare benefits</a> of parents with children performing poorly in school cleared committees of both the House and Senate last week."<br />
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and<br />
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<blockquote>Twice a year, Tennessee holds a “health care lottery” that gives some hope to the uninsured residents in the state who can’t afford health coverage. Tennesseans who meet certain requirements — in addition to falling below a certain income threshold, they must be elderly, blind, disabled, or a caretaker of a child who qualifies for Medicaid — may call to request an application for the state’s public health insurance program, known as TennCare.<br />
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[snip]<br />
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<blockquote>State residents who have high medical bills but would not normally qualify for Medicaid, the government health care program for the poor, can call a state phone line and request an application. But the window is tight — the line shuts down after 2,500 calls, typically within an hour — and the demand is so high that it is difficult to get through. [...]</blockquote><br />
[snip]<br />
<br />
If Tennessee Gov. Bill Haslan (R) opted to expand Medicaid under Obamacare, more than 180,000 people would be able to be added to the TennCare rolls by 2019... Haslan has not yet decided whether Tennessee will accept Obamacare’s optional expansion of the Medicaid program, although he has indicated that he may make his decision sometime this week [week of 25 March 2013].</blockquote>I despair of our ever having a truly effective safety net.<br />
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Also, it must be nice to have the luxury of time to decide if 180,000 people who need healthcare can get it. Uh-oh, Governor, your privilege is showing!<br />
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ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-48625536392868150552012-10-16T17:19:00.000-05:002012-10-16T17:20:17.498-05:00On the Anniversary of the Harpers Ferry RaidLet me just say, off the top, I love <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Brown%27s_raid_on_Harpers_Ferry">John Brown</a>. A devoted abolitionist willing to pay the ultimate price to bring slavery to its end? It's the stuff of fantasy.<br />
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...for people who think like I. For many other people who have lived in the U.S. since 1859, it's a reason to portray the man as "crazy" and "unstable." John Brown's contemporaries didn't think of him in these terms, according to James Loewen in <i>Lies My Teacher Told Me</i>; instead, this portrayal arose largely to dismiss his efforts, his dedication, and because it is hard for people to imagine that a white man would give his life to destroy the slave system. I tell my students it's the same reason people try to make the Civil War about everything <i>except</i> slavery. White people were willing to tear their country apart and kill each other and "black people were at the heart of it?" Oh, no! <br />
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But I, as usual, digress. I admired Brown and didn't believe the characterizations even before I read Loewen's book. I wrote a paper about him during my M.A. program in defense of his sanity. My professor thought I was in denial :-)<br />
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As I've grown since, I am trying to think of careful ways to have this argument. If I try to "redeem" John Brown by insisting that he did not grapple with mental illness, am I just, from another perspective, furthering stereotypes about those that we label "crazy?" And so, I want to make it clear that my issue right now is not so much insisting that John Brown was "perfectly sane," but in the common invocation of mental illness to render people and their actions questionable, insignificant, or downright wrong. <br />
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Maybe Brown was an extremist in the sense that MLK, Jr. used the term in his <i>Letter from Birmingham Jail</i>. Maybe Brown faced that choice MLK talked about, choosing what kind of extremist to be. "Will we be extremists for hate or for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice or for the extension of justice?" King asked. That Brown may have struggled, a century before, with just such a sentiment is evident <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4h2943t.html">in his words</a>:<blockquote>[H]ad I so interfered in behalf of the rich, the powerful, the intelligent, the so-called great, or in behalf of any of their friends, either father, mother, brother, sister, wife, or children, or any of that class, and suffered and sacrificed what I have in this interference, it would have been all right; and every man in this court would have deemed it an act worthy of reward rather than punishment.<br />
<br />
[...]<br />
<br />
I believe that to have interfered as I have done as I have always freely admitted I have done in behalf of His despised poor, was not wrong, but right. <i>Now, if it is deemed necessary that I should forfeit my life for the furtherance of the ends of justice</i>, and mingle my blood further with the blood of my children and with the blood of millions in this slave country whose rights are disregarded by wicked, cruel, and unjust enactments, I submit; <i>so let it be done</i>!</blockquote>I will always love me some John Brown.ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-4526103232782999532012-10-09T08:59:00.001-05:002012-10-09T09:06:11.806-05:00Quick Thoughts on Fisher v. UTThe Supreme Court is set to hear arguments in <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fisher_v._University_of_Texas">Fisher v. UT</a></i>. <br />
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I'm anxious. <br />
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Abigail Fisher claims she was rejected by UT because she was white. I think cases like this get at the heart of who is believed deserving or meritorious or entitled (a word usually used viciously against poor people of color, but Abigail Fisher certainly felt she was "entitled" to something).<br />
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Why do I say that? Because it doesn't particularly matter to plaintiffs in cases like this about any other source of perceived "unfair advantage." <a href="http://redroom.com/member/tim-wise/blog/explaining-white-privilege-to-the-deniers-and-the-haters">As Tim Wise noted some time ago</a>, <blockquote>[F]or every student of color who received even the slightest consideration from an affirmative action program in college, there are two whites who failed to meet normal qualification requirements at the same school, but who got in anyway because of parental influence, alumni status or because other favors were done.</blockquote><br />
But we don't hear about the unfairness of parental influence or legacy policies.<br />
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And, as noted in a <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/08/13/fisher-v-texas-texas-affirmative-action-case_n_1774334.html">brief from UT</a>: <blockquote>[Fisher] also was denied admission to the summer program, which offered provisional admission to some applicants who were denied admission to the fall class, subject to completing certain academic requirements over the summer. ... Although one African-American and four Hispanic applicants with lower combined AI/PAI scores than petitioner’s were offered admission to the 16 summer program, so were 42 Caucasian applicants with combined AI/PAI scores identical to or lower than petitioner’s. In addition, 168 African-American and Hispanic applicants in this pool who had combined AI/PAI scores identical to or higher than petitioner’s were denied admission to the summer program.</blockquote><br />
I doubt if Amy Fisher is worried about those 42 Caucasian applicants who got in because we are more likely to think they somehow deserved it. And what of the 168 students of color with scores identical or higher to hers who were denied admission? How is that explained?<br />
<br />
No, it’s only an issue when a person of color is perceived to have gained something that rightfully should have gone to a white person. It is rooted in the belief that somewhere out there, there has to be a white person who is better qualified or more deserving or who “merits” more.<br />
<br />
It’s the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIyewCdXMzk">Jesse Helms “Hands” ad</a> writ large.<br />
<br />
Like <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/deborah-n-archer/affirmative-action-still-matters_b_1949460.html">Deborah Archer</a>, I believe that, <blockquote>Altough America has made substantial progress in race relations, there remains a systemic racial hierarchy that produces and perpetuates racial disparities in educational outcomes. Race-conscious admissions programs, like the one used by UT Austin, are designed to counter this systemic racism and create a vital pipeline to educational and professional opportunities for minority students. The proven success of these programs in increasing equal opportunity serves as compelling evidence of their value and counsels in favor of continuing them.</blockquote><br />
And, as a professor and a woman of color, it’s why I am anxious. <br />
ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-38315485580524375422012-07-27T12:46:00.001-05:002012-07-27T12:51:57.033-05:00Well, It's Not Exactly EXTREME Couponing...Some couponing info: Some of my neighbors know me well enough to just hand me their coupons if we meet at the mailbox. I'll also get extras from the post office that people throw on the table or on top of the recycle bin. Yes, these are typically more than I can use, but here are some things I've done lately:<br />
<br />
1) My kids like the Dole Aguas Frescas. A 64 oz carton is $2. I cut out about 15 $1 off coupons and buy 3 at a time. They've been drinking them and making popsicles with them.<br />
<br />
2) Leave the extras by the product in the store. For example, I cut out some $2 off L'oreal True Match face product coupons. There aren't many people of my complexion on this side of town, ahem, so the foundation and powder colors that match me like cappucino and nut brown were on clearance at HEB for under $6 (regularly $8-12). The pressed powders happened to be packaged with a free blush. So I got 2 liquid foundations, 2 powders, and 2 blushes for about $16 and left the rest of the coupons on the shelf.<br />
<br />
3) Rose Art has a coupon for $1 off 3 or more of their products. Right now, you can get their glue and crayons and stuff for under 40 cents. The crayons are a quarter so I'm thinking I can get four packs free. The glue is 34 cents, so I can get 3 of them for 2 cents. Even if you don't have school age children, you can donate the stuff (that's my plan because I've collected SEVERAL of those).<br />
<br />
4) Check for stores that are moving or going out of business or having clearance sales--I cleaned up at a Michael's out here last weekend. Lots of stuff deeply discounted, plus they had a 25% off your total purchase coupon. And when they have those 40 or 50% off one item coupons, I give everyone money and we all buy something, even four-year-old Deuce! Also, I got 4 collage picture frames, a butterfly for my wall, 3 potential centerpieces, numerous candles and other odds and ends at Kirkland's last weekend--my regular total would've been about $230. With clearance and a $25 off $75 coupon, I spent $54.17 with tax. <br />
<br />
Yes coupons can be time consuming and can make you buy stuff you wouldn't ordinarily (I fall into that trap sometimes, I will admit), but they can also add up to big savings!<br />
<br />
**Ooh, two of my biggest finds right now: 50 cents off Suave Deodorant and 50 cents off carefree, stayfree, and ob products. So you can get the small pack of carefree liners and the small container of Suave deodorant for under 50 cents.ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-10289606827367673492012-07-26T14:11:00.003-05:002012-07-26T14:12:38.668-05:00Make Me Blog!Tell me what you like most about any interpersonal relationship--romantic, familial, whatever!<br />
<br />
I'm thinking...ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-74010160375330902462012-07-20T13:03:00.000-05:002012-07-26T14:13:15.578-05:00What I Might BeI've had these thoughts/quotes/ideas/lyrics/words that keep coming to me in the last two weeks. Because I am superstitious, I think I have discerned a pattern.<br />
<br />
First, I heard the Lao Tzu quote, "When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be."<br />
<br />
Then, I took my 4-year-old nephew Deuce to the park and watched him attempt the monkey bars. I had a sad feeling suddenly because I remembered that I'd never learned to cross the monkey bars on my school playground. I'd always been too scared to let go of the one bar behind to grab hold of the next one in front. <br />
<br />
On FaceBook, I read a friend proclaim, "I am working on being more audacious, shameless, & fearless. Love makes anything possible."<br />
<br />
And I heard Erykah Badu croon to me on my Pandora station, <br />
<br />
<blockquote>Bag lady you gone hurt your back<br />
Dragging all them bags like that<br />
I guess nobody ever told you<br />
All you must hold on to<br />
Is you, is you, is you<br />
<br />
One day all them bags gone get in your way<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Girl I know sometimes it's hard<br />
And we can't let go<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Bag lady<br />
Let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go </blockquote><br />
So, I wanted to weave together some deep philosophical thoughts on these things--my feeling that I am being prompted to let some things go to make room for others, to release some of the past so that I may live in the present and dream BIG for my future.<br />
<br />
But I'm sleepy and not particularly prosaic this week :-) I do know, however, that I am ready to start the journey to becoming what I might be. <br />
<br />
Isn't that an amazing, intriguing, frightening, exhilarating thing--what I might be? I'm ready for a little fearlessness, too, for in the words of the beloved Audre Lorde, "I realize that if I wait until I am no longer afraid to act, write, speak, be, I'll be sending messages on a Ouija board, cryptic complaints from the other side."<br />
<br />
What I might be... I don't know who she is, but I'll bet y'all ain't ready for her!<br />
<br />
XOXOXO<br />
<br />
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OqN0jsSeqPo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-61737966812748992672012-07-19T11:51:00.000-05:002012-07-19T11:54:27.499-05:00This. Pisses. Me. Off.From <a href="http://www.clutchmagonline.com/2012/07/what-blue-ivy-backlash-says-about-us/">Jessica Andrews at Clutch Magazine</a>:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>It wasn’t long after a picture of 7-month-old Blue Ivy made its way to the Internet that the slander started. Facebook and Twitter posts lamented the fact that Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s daughter was starting to look like her father. There were mean-spirited jabs about her inheritance of his “big lips” and jaws, and prayers that a “wide nose” wasn’t in her future. <br />
<br />
[snip]<br />
<br />
The criticism of full lips, “nappy” hair, and wide noses in our communities is weighted. Some people would have you believe attractiveness is subjective, but the truth is our collective view of facial features is tangled in the web of racism. In our social imagination, European features set the standard for what’s beautiful, rendering broad noses and big lips ugly.</blockquote><br />
I am sooooo sick of colorism (or what people in my hometown call "bein' color-struck"--so in awe of someone with fair skin and straight hair that one is struck silent. And, Lord, don't let the fair-skinned person have non-dark brown eyes!), what it reflects about our beliefs, the deleterious effects on the esteem, psyches, relationships and opportunities of people of color. I've written about colorism before, am currently reading literature that argues that the effects of colorism are not only abstract, but may have very real effects on economic, educational, and political opportunities. So, I don't have a lot to add, except shame on the people who keep trafficking in this and quadruple that shame for people who do this to little ones. <br />
<br />
But, of course, as my friend Black Amazon has noted, girls of color rarely get the chance to be girls.<br />
<br />
It also really sticks with me that the picture that started the comments shows little Blue Ivy in her mother's arms, often characterized as one of the safest places a baby can be. Not so for babies of color who have been routinely ripped from their mother's arms to be sold, exploited, and separated from their families. Suddenly, I'm thinking Beyonce and Jay don't cover their baby just to be coy or secretive, but as a much-needed, protective gesture. <br />
<br />
And I just have to leave you with this:<br />
<br />
<object width="420" height="315"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gRSgUTWffMQ?version=3&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gRSgUTWffMQ?version=3&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="420" height="315" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object>ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-48428523007912161732012-07-18T10:20:00.000-05:002012-07-18T10:25:07.115-05:00What the hell......is this?<br />
<br />
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<br />
I can't figure it out. Here are my fledgling ideas on what we are meant to learn from Lt. Gov. Jennifer Carroll's inane comments:<br />
<br />
1) Your long-time single friends are probably gay. (Hey! Stop looking at me! :-)<br />
<br />
2) Only black women who look a certain way "engage in relationships like that." <br />
<br />
I don't know what that means exactly. At first I suspected she was referring to possibly two things<br />
<br />
A) herself as attractive, thus recycling the stereotype that lesbians are "ugly" "man-hating" women who are really gay and bitter because they can't "get" a man and<br />
<br />
B) herself as a fairer-skinned (at least fairer-skinned than the woman who says she saw the Lt. Governor in a "compromising position") woman of color, which supposedly marks her as "more" attractive and desirable, bringing us back to point A.<br />
<br />
But there is so much more going on in Carroll's words and expressions and laughs. The larger point, I believe, is that she is asserting that people who have "those kind of relationships" look some certain, identifiable way. <br />
<br />
And it is not the way "normal" people like her--you know, people who have spouses and children and are physically attractive or whatever--look. Her knowing glances and smiles undergird that--I get the feeling she is saying, "Come on! You know what I mean!" <br />
<br />
But what does she mean? That black lesbians aren't mothers or political leaders or don't fill myriad other "normal" roles that are apparently the domain of heterosexual women?<br />
<br />
I still don't know what the hell Carroll is saying exactly. <br />
<br />
But I do know that, whatever she means, it speaks to a long, hurtful history of othering.ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-470261067746397932012-07-16T11:13:00.000-05:002012-07-16T11:16:50.996-05:00Happy Birthday......to the fierce and brave <a href="http://www.webster.edu/~woolflm/idabwells.html">Ida B. Wells-Barnett</a>. Today is the sesquicentennial of her birth. A social justice activist, Wells-Barnett was active in struggles for women's and African American's civil and political rights. But she is perhaps best known for her anti-lynching work. Her work and her writings led to her virtual exile from the South and yet, she continued documenting and protesting lynchings. Here are some of her more controversial statements as recorded in her book <i>Southern Horrors</i> (available as <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/14975/14975-h/14975-h.htm">an e-book via Project Gutenberg</a>):<br />
<blockquote>The greater part of what is contained in these pages was published in the <i>New York Age</i> June 25, 1892, in explanation of the editorial which the Memphis whites considered sufficiently infamous to justify the destruction of my paper, the <i>Free Speech</i>.<br />
<br />
[snip]<br />
<br />
<b>THE OFFENSE</b><br />
<br />
Wednesday evening May 24, 1892, the city of Memphis was filled with excitement. Editorials in the daily papers of that date caused a meeting to be held in the Cotton Exchange Building; a committee was sent for the editors of the Free Speech an Afro-American journal published in that city, and the only reason the open threats of lynching that were made were not carried out was because they could not be found. The cause of all this commotion was the following editorial published in the Free Speech May 21, 1892, the Saturday previous.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Eight negroes lynched since last issue of the Free Speech one at Little Rock, Ark., last Saturday morning where the citizens broke(?) into the penitentiary and got their man; three near Anniston, Ala., one near New Orleans; and three at Clarksville, Ga., the last three for killing a white man, and five on the same old racket—the new alarm about raping white women. The same programme of hanging, then shooting bullets into the lifeless bodies was carried out to the letter.<br />
<br />
Nobody in this section of the country believes the old thread-bare lie that Negro men rape white women. If Southern white men are not careful, they will overreach themselves and public sentiment will have a reaction; a conclusion will then be reached which will be very damaging to the moral reputation of their women</blockquote><br />
The <i>Daily Commercial<i></i></i> of Wednesday following, May 25, contained the following leader:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Those negroes who are attempting to make the lynching of individuals of their race a means for arousing the worst passions of their kind are playing with a dangerous sentiment. The negroes may as well understand that there is no mercy for the negro rapist and little patience with his defenders. A negro organ printed in this city, in a recent issue publishes the following atrocious paragraph: "Nobody in this section of the country believes the old thread-bare lie that negro men rape white women. If Southern white men are not careful they will overreach themselves, and public sentiment will have a reaction; and a conclusion will be reached which will be very damaging to the moral reputation of their women."<br />
<br />
The fact that a black scoundrel is allowed to live and utter such loathsome and repulsive calumnies is a volume of evidence as to the wonderful patience of Southern whites. But we have had enough of it.<br />
<br />
There are some things that the Southern white man will not tolerate, and the obscene intimations of the foregoing have brought the writer to the very outermost limit of public patience. We hope we have said enough.</blockquote><br />
The <i>Evening Scimitar</i> of same date, copied the Commercial's editorial with these words of comment:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Patience under such circumstances is not a virtue. If the negroes themselves do not apply the remedy without delay it will be the duty of those whom he has attacked to tie the wretch who utters these calumnies to a stake at the intersection of Main and Madison Sts., brand him in the forehead with a hot iron and perform upon him a surgical operation with a pair of tailor's shears.</blockquote><br />
Acting upon this advice, the leading citizens met in the Cotton Exchange Building the same evening, and threats of lynching were freely indulged, not by the lawless element upon which the deviltry of the South is usually saddled—but by the leading business men, in their leading business centre. Mr. Fleming, the business manager and owning a half interest the Free Speech, had to leave town to escape the mob, and was afterwards ordered not to return; letters and telegrams sent me in New York where I was spending my vacation advised me that bodily harm awaited my return. Creditors took possession of the office and sold the outfit, and the Free Speech was as if it had never been.<br />
<br />
The editorial in question was prompted by the many inhuman and fiendish lynchings of Afro-Americans which have recently taken place and was meant as a warning. Eight lynched in one week and five of them charged with rape! The thinking public will not easily believe freedom and education more brutalizing than slavery, and the world knows that the crime of rape was unknown during four years of civil war, when the white women of the South were at the mercy of the race which is all at once charged with being a bestial one.<br />
<br />
Since my business has been destroyed and I am an exile from home because of that editorial, the issue has been forced, and as the writer of it I feel that the race and the public generally should have a statement of the facts as they exist. They will serve at the same time as a defense for the Afro-Americans Sampsons who suffer themselves to be betrayed by white Delilahs.</blockquote><br />
Wells-Barnett maintained that the southern men's cry that they lynched to protect the honor of white women was a lie, often not even supported by the alleged victims of the assault. In fact, in <i><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/14977/14977-h/14977-h.htm">A Red Record</a></i>, she noted that white southerners "compelled to give excuses for [their] barbarism" offered a number of false reasons for their merciless, ritualistic slaughter of black people:<br />
<blockquote>From 1865 to 1872, hundreds of colored men and women were mercilessly murdered and <b>the almost invariable reason assigned was that they met their death by being alleged participants in an insurrection or riot</b>. But this story at last wore itself out. No insurrection ever materialized; no Negro rioter was ever apprehended and proven guilty, and no dynamite ever recorded the black man's protest against oppression and wrong. It was too much to ask thoughtful people to believe this transparent story, and the southern white people at last made up their minds that some other excuse must be had.<br />
<br />
Then came <b>the second excuse</b>, which had its birth during the turbulent times of reconstruction. By an amendment to the Constitution the Negro was given the right of franchise, and, theoretically at least, his ballot became his invaluable emblem of citizenship. [...] The southern white man would not consider that the Negro had any right which a white man was bound to respect, and the idea of a republican form of government in the southern states grew into general contempt. It was maintained that "This is a white man's government," and regardless of numbers the white man should rule. "No Negro domination" became the new legend on the sanguinary banner of the sunny South, and under it rode the Ku Klux Klan, the Regulators, and the lawless mobs, which for any cause chose to murder one man or a dozen as suited their purpose best. It was a long, gory campaign; the blood chills and the heart almost loses faith in Christianity when one thinks of Yazoo, Hamburg, Edgefield, Copiah, and the countless massacres of defenseless Negroes, whose only crime was the attempt to exercise their right to vote.<br />
<br />
[snip]<br />
<br />
The white man's victory soon became complete by fraud, violence, intimidation and murder. The franchise vouchsafed to the Negro grew to be a "barren ideality," and regardless of numbers, the colored people found themselves voiceless in the councils of those whose duty it was to rule. With no longer the fear of "Negro Domination" before their eyes, the white man's second excuse became valueless. With the Southern governments all subverted and the Negro actually eliminated from all participation in state and national elections, there could be no longer an excuse for killing Negroes to prevent "Negro Domination."<br />
<br />
Brutality still continued; Negroes were whipped, scourged, exiled, shot and hung whenever and wherever it pleased the white man so to treat them, and as the civilized world with increasing persistency held the white people of the South to account for its outlawry, the murderers invented <b>the third excuse</b>—that Negroes had to be killed to avenge their assaults upon women. [...] Humanity abhors the assailant of womanhood, and this charge upon the Negro at once placed him beyond the pale of human sympathy. With such unanimity, earnestness and apparent candor was this charge made and reiterated that the world has accepted the story that the Negro is a monster which the Southern white man has painted him. And today, the Christian world feels, that while lynching is a crime, and lawlessness and anarchy the certain precursors of a nation's fall, it can not by word or deed, extend sympathy or help to a race of outlaws, who might mistake their plea for justice and deem it an excuse for their continued wrongs.</blockquote><br />
White southerners would never admit the real causes, Wells-Barnett insisted, for murdering black people: the determination to keep black people in "their place," silenced by fear, and barred from progress in almost any field of endeavor. Indeed, they worked hard to solidify belief in the reasons they offered.<br />
<br />
But the work of Ida B. Wells-Barnett served as a counter to those claims and she kept writing and speaking and opining at the risk of her own life. Described as "uncompromising" and a "crusader"--and not always in a flattering sense by those exasperated by her determination and dedication to her vision.<br />
<br />
As a black woman and a historian, I admire her greatly for her efforts to write a historical narrative that countered the commonly accepted stories and to center the experiences of the marginalized.ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-67450804398525210332012-07-16T08:15:00.003-05:002012-07-16T08:15:57.806-05:00This Writing Thing... Again!Morning. <br />
<br />
This week begins my effort at this disciplined writing thing. I am moving away from binge writing (as much as 20 pages in a day then nothing for a month :-), mood writing (I can only write if I'm in a good mood/not worrying about anything else), and past writing habits that were less than fruitful. <br />
<br />
I'm starting slowly. My rough goal now is that, within 2 hours of waking, I have to have written something on one of my academic works OR my blog OR my "Great American Novel."<br />
<br />
We'll see!ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-20012299855277227672012-06-17T10:43:00.000-05:002012-06-17T10:43:40.676-05:00On Gardens and Growing, Sowing and Reaping, and LOVE!<i>"Sow for yourselves righteousness, reap the fruit of unfailing love," Hosea 10:12.</i><br />
<br />
My dissertation/manuscript was heavily inspired by Jacqueline Jones's <i>Labor of Love, Labor of Sorrow</i>. In the dedication, I thanked my mama for sharing her life story and told her, "I always knew we were your labor of love. I hope that you are proud of the fruits."<br />
<br />
For some reason, I am heavily invested in those kinds of metaphors, the ideas of people planting and sowing and harvesting, particularly the idea that we sow now to provide a bountiful harvest for our children. One of my favorite Bible verses is Psalm 126:5--"They that sow in tears shall reap in joy." <br />
<br />
I also love John 4:37-38--"Thus the saying ‘One sows and another reaps’ is true. I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor.” And every time I was called to do the devotion, I read Ecclesiastes 3, including, "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven... a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted."<br />
<br />
My mother STILL will keep me in line with warnings like these:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>"Whatever one sows, that will he also reap," (Galatians 6:7)<br />
<br />
"As I have seen, those who plow iniquity and sow trouble reap the same," (Job 4:8)<br />
<br />
"Whoever sows injustice will reap calamity, and the rod of his fury will fail,"(Proverbs 22:8)<br />
<br />
"For they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind," (Hosea 8:7)</blockquote><br />
What's my point on this Father's Day? Here it comes: I've given my mother a lot of credit for planting and tending and weeding and nurturing us. But my dad was an excellent gardener, as well. Because this is just my second Father's Day without him, there is still so much I am working through. I have to bite my tongue when friends talk about their relationships with their dads sometimes--my dad would frown heavily upon the feelings of resentment I have and my desire to say, "SO???? My daddy loved me and did things for my over-grown ass too!"<br />
<br />
But I have come to the point that I remember more often with smiles than tears. And I want to thank my dad, via the words of an old poem, for his wonderful work sowing and reaping. I think we're some okay harvests :-)) I hope he knows that we take his model seriously and are always planting for this generation of grandchildren he loved so.<br />
<br />
Happy Father's Day!<br />
<br />
<b>Our Father Kept A Garden</b><br />
<br />
Our Father kept a garden,<br />
A garden of the heart;<br />
He planted all the good things,<br />
That gave our lives their start.<br />
<br />
He turned us to the sunshine,<br />
And encouraged us to dream,<br />
Fostering and nurturing<br />
The seeds of self-esteem.<br />
<br />
And when the winds and rain came,<br />
He protected us enough;<br />
But not too much because he knew<br />
We would stand up strong and tough.<br />
<br />
His strong and good example,<br />
Taught us right from wrong;<br />
Markers for our pathway that will <br />
Last a lifetime long. <br />
<br />
We are our Father's garden,<br />
We are his legacy.<br />
Thank you Dad, we love you,<br />
Because you sowed our dreams!<br />
<br />ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-12982773815759863342012-05-20T08:56:00.005-05:002012-05-20T09:00:28.373-05:00Horror!Today, so far:<br />
<br />
7:00 AM Mama is moving around, preparing for Sunday school. I wake up and try, vainly, to go back to sleep<br />
<br />
7:15-7:30 AM Mama and I talk and sip coffee. The big boys are all away and Deuce is sleep. I love quiet moments, even when it is MORNING.<br />
<br />
7:31-7:45 AM I realize no sleep is forthcoming so I might as well get the day started. I take down meat to thaw for dinner, do some surface-level straightening up, and sort laundry.<br />
<br />
7:46 AM As mentioned, the boys are not here. I have decided that my first load of laundry will be towels. I realize that I must bravely approach the area of their greatest science experiment: their bathroom. (Suspenseful music plays in the background. Largely in my head, but you get the drift).<br />
<br />
7:47-7:54 AM I don my makeshift haz-mat suit which consists of a scarf to protect my hair from odors, a large towel to cover my mouth and nose, Mama’s reading glasses for my eyes, my black house shoes because they can be washed, a straightened wire hanger to lift anything that should not be touched by human hands, elbow-length gloves and the sense of steely determination that has gotten mothers through thousands of years of messy children. I take a deep breath—I dare not breathe once I venture beyond this innocuous looking door. I look back at my mother, a bit of fear slowing my steps. She nods encouragement, clasps her hands together and waits. I pull down my towel long enough to tell her I love her and I couldn’t have asked for a better mom. I want her to know that before I venture into the bowels of hell. Slowly I turn the knob.<br />
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7:54:32 AM As a good social scientist, I make quick observations to later record in this journal. The first was the scent for which neither my towel nor the artfully placed wallflower was any match. I am horrified to realize I didn’t even hold my breath 30 seconds. Note to social scientist self: work on stamina, girl. My eyes water beneath the glasses, but they still manage to take in carelessly tossed toothbrushes, four tubes of toothpaste, some purloined from my bathroom, the fiends! They squeeze them in the middle and then take more long before their tube has run out.<br />
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7:54:48 AM I ease past mounds of clothes toward the item which is the heart of their science experiment and the greatest source of my fear: their toilet. I look on in horror. I believe that, once, the linoleum surrounding it was the shame shade of white as that in my bathroom. It has taken on a strangely golden hue. I turn my head quickly, almost dive toward the tub and any towels.<br />
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7:55:01 AM The tub is strangely white compared to the rest of the once-white room. It’s almost as if… as if it is barely used! Imagine that!<br />
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7:55:05 AM I see towels. On the towel rack. On the side of the tub. Balled up into a corner that I dare not stretch to reach in case I slip and land on their almost-bronze floor. “Be brave!” I tell myself. I extend my hanger. After a few fruitless tries, I hook them. One by one, I fling them into the hallway.<br />
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7:56:15 AM I dash drunkenly from the bathroom, almost overcome… but… alas… I am safe! My mama sighs her relief--I hold up my hands as she approaches me. I dare not let her touch me. “Oh, daughter,” she says, tears shining in her eyes, “I have never been more proud of you than I am at this moment!” I know that is what she said, but muffled by the towel, it sounded a lot like, “Girl, pick them towels up and take them in the laundry room!”<br />
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8:00-8:05 AM I deposit the towels in the washer, add a bottle of detergent, a half-gallon of bleach, some baking soda and pine oil. I turn the water to hot. I run to my bathroom, carefully strip out of my protective gear, and put it in a plastic bag to de-contaminate later. I turn the shower on as hot as my skin can stand. I wash with Dial, with Nivea, with vinegar, then Dial again. Finally, I emerge, checking myself for any symptoms.<br />
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8:20 AM I direct Mama to watch me carefully for the next 24-hours for any signs that I have contracted a dread disease. She does not seem to understand the seriousness. She kisses me and leaves for Sunday school. I must now monitor myself… Hopefully, Journal, this will NOT be my last entry. <br />
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Stay tuned.ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-58418959777733839212012-03-26T10:57:00.005-05:002012-03-26T10:57:00.841-05:00My Mama and the StormMy mama is the kind of devout, sanctified-church-raised Christian who "gets the Holy Ghost." She claps her hands. She cries out. She dances. She might run. Whatever she feels the spirit moves her to do.<br /><br />And my sister and I, who are not particularly demonstrative or particularly religious, look at each other. Sometimes, I make a dry comment which irritates my beloved best friend who tells me gently, "You don't know her story. You don't know why she gets happy."<br /><br />Last night, someone posted the words to the song "I Told the Storm" on Facebook. Every time I hear that song, I think of my mama's praise. My BFF is right; I don't know her whole story. But I know a few of the things she has come through and it is enough to make someone "shout."<br /><br />My mom was born to a single mother in the rural South in 1949. Now, having felt stigmatized myself as a single mother a half-century later, I can't imagine how hard my grandmother's life and the lives of her children were. But my mama has told me about the nights when there wasn't quite enough to eat, the days when someone else fed them, the clean but patched and repaired clothes, the condescension of her step-grandmother who once told a social services caseworker that my grandmother and my mother wouldn't amount to much, because my great-grandmother hadn't been worth anything before she died.<br /><br />My mama has told me, for my book, about her work in an industry that was physically and emotionally demanding, exploitative, and exhaustive. She has told me about her unrealized dreams of being a teacher or a hair dresser.<br /><br />And she didn't have to tell me about the ups and downs of negotiating a four-decade marriage. I witnessed enough. I adored my father, love him still, but being a good father didn't always make him a good husband. That is not my story to tell, but my mother endured much.<br /><br />I have seen my mother sacrifice so much for her family, for us--her hard-headed, smirking, dry-commenting children. I've seen her weather storms--money problems, job loss, caring for and losing a sick parent and sibling, settling arguments, rescuing cash-strapped children, diabetes etc, etc. So when I hear, "I Told the Storm," I think of my mama.<br /><br />And I cry.<br /><br />But these are good tears. Because I don't know her whole testimony. But I know she has survived with her smile and her spirit intact. She's <span style="font-style:italic;">still</span> clapping her hands. She's <span style="font-style:italic;">still</span> crying out. She's <span style="font-style:italic;">still</span> dancing. She's <span style="font-style:italic;">still</span> running. She <span style="font-style:italic;">still</span> has faith, not only in her God, but in the worth and goodness of people. And she's telling her storms just what the lyrics say:<blockquote><span style="font-style:italic;">Wind stop blowing<br />Flood stop flowing<br />Lightning stop flashing<br />Breakers stop dashing<br />Darkness go away<br />Clouds move away<br />That's what I told the storm<br /><br />Death can't take me<br />Job can't make me<br />Bills can't break me <br />Disease can't shake me<br />You won't drown me<br />My God surrounds me<br />That's what I told the storm!</span></blockquote><br />My mama has that kind of joy another old song refers to: unsinkable joy that the world didn't give and the world can't take away. I believe part of Psalm 30:5 is inscribed on her heart: "weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning."<br /><br />Y'all, I adore my mama.<br />I can't even explain how good she has been to and for me.<br />________________<br /><br /><object width="420" height="315"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ghvo32n7Tgc?version=3&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ghvo32n7Tgc?version=3&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="420" height="315" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">I Told the Storm</span></span> Lyrics:<br /><br />Even though your winds blow I want you to know<br />You cause me no alarm cause I'm safe in His arms<br />Even though your rain falls I can still make this call<br />Let there be peace now I can say go away<br />I command you to move today<br />Because of faith I have a brand new day<br />The sun will shine and I will be okay<br />Thats what I told the storm<br />(the storm, the storm)<br /><br />Chorus<br />I told the storm (oh yes i did)<br />to pass (ohhhhh..)<br />storm you cant last (go away)<br />go away (I command..)<br />I command you to move today<br />(oh storm)Storm (when God speaks) when God speaks<br />Storm (you don't have a choice in the matter, you have to cease)<br />You have to cease (yes thats....)<br />thats what I told the storm (what I told the storm)<br />(repeat once more)<br /><br />Hook<br />I told the storm<br />(No weapons formed against me shall prosper I dont have to worry about a thing)<br />I told the storm<br />(Im more than a conqueror through Jesus Christ, and he's gonna bring me out alright)<br />I told the storm<br />(It's amazing grace thats brought me safe thus far, and grace is gonna lead me home)<br />I told the storm<br />(I stood on solid ground and told my storm and you need to tell your storm today)<br /><br />Vamp 1<br />(Oh wind) Wind stop blowing<br />(Flood stop flowing) Flood stop flowing<br />(Lightening stop flashing) Lightening stop flashing<br />(Breakers stop dashing) Breakers stop dashing<br />(Darkness go away) Darkness go away<br />(Clouds move away) Clouds move away<br />(That's what I told...) That's what I told the storm<br /><br />Vamp 2<br />(Oh death) Death can't take me<br />(Job can't make me) Job can't make me<br />(No matter how the fares of this world...) Bills can't break me ( may seem to way me down)<br />Disease can't shake me<br />You won't drown me<br />My God surrounds me<br />That's what I told the storm<br />(repeat vamp 2 one more time)<br /><br />That's what I told the storm (repeat until end and fade)ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-37786019634042152002012-03-25T12:43:00.001-05:002012-03-25T12:43:00.058-05:00FYI"It is as if ancient graves, hidden deep in the shadows of the psyche and the earth, are breaking open of their own accord. Unwilling to be silent any longer. Incapable of silence. No leader or people of any country will be safe from these upheavals that lead to exposure, no matter how much the news is managed or how long people’s grievances have been kept quiet. Human beings may well be unable to break free of the dictatorship of greed that spreads like a miasma over the world, but no longer will we be an inarticulate and ignorant humanity, confused by our enslavement to superior cruelty and weaponry. We will know at least a bit of the truth about what is going on, and that will set us free. Perhaps not free in the old way of thinking about freedom, as literal escape from enslavement in its various forms, but free in our understanding that our domination is not a comment on our worth." <br /><br />-Alice Walkerellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-89432752228605000452012-03-25T10:30:00.002-05:002012-03-25T10:30:02.337-05:00A Look into My Mind...You wonder how the mind of someone with an attention deficit works? Let me tell you my last three hours: <br /><br />read, <br />spontaneously decide to go for breakfast, <br />write, write, write, <br />daydream about a jazz song I used in my civil rights class, <br />go to Abbey Lincoln on youtube, <br />think about Elle Varner and switch to her, <br />stern admonishment to myself to focus, <br />write, write, write, <br />see a reference to the Great Dismal Swamp, <br />wonder what's the difference between a swamp and marsh, <br />realize I can't define either, <br />look both up, <br />began reading a dissertation about the melding of cultures in the Great Dismal Swamp, <br />intrigued by the existence of maroon colonies there, <br />began to search for more info on that,<br />FOCUS, elle! <br />write, write... <br />hey maybe I need a break, <br />read 10 pages, the heroine in the book roasted some tomatoes, <br />ooh that would be good! <br />let me go to foodnetwork.com and look up a good recipe... <br />hey, the Neelys baked tomatoes yesterday--let me see when that comes back on, is there a bug caught between my blinds and window? <br />why yes there is! somebody come kill it! <br />focus, girl. <br />write... <br />take time from what I am working on to jot down more words for the blog post I am writing out by hand about Trayvon Martin<br />I am now appropriately medicated, but that is going to make me soooo sleepy. But until then, write, write, write... <br />Uh-oh, my nephew just asked me to help him find baseball movies on Netflix...<br /><br />I don't know how I get <span style="font-style:italic;">anything</span> done.ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-74160597249085263272012-03-25T10:21:00.004-05:002012-03-25T10:27:37.470-05:00No ApologiesIf you haven't, you MUST read <a href="http://blacksnob.com/snob_blog/2012/3/20/no-apologizes-on-the-killing-of-trayvon-martin-and-being-goo.html">the entire post over at The Black Snob</a>:<blockquote>"If you have a child, what do you tell them? Especially <span style="font-style:italic;">him</span>. What do you tell him? How do you tell him as his mother or his father or his grandmother or grandfather that you, the person he loves and trusts and believes in more than anyone in the world, that you can keep him safe? How does he believe you now? He knows you're full of shit now. He's on Facebook. He's heard and read about Trayvon. Someone who looked like him. Someone who was "good." How do you tell him that if he just stays in school and is "good" it will be OK? How do you tell him to handle something like this? Not a cop, just some guy. Some crazy self-appointed neighborhood watch guy with a gun who thought he was Batman that night? If you're a good parent you tell your kid that if some guy, some scary guy is following them, you tell him to run and if he can't run, to defend himself. Bad men in cars to terrible things to children and teens. You tell your son, if you can't run, if you can't get help, do whatever you have to do to stay alive. Fight, run, call out for help, make yourself trouble. Go down fighting, if you're going down. Don't do the thing the stranger in the car with the gun wants you to do.<br /><br />But that doesn't keep you safe.<br /><br />...there is no path that promises your child will be safe. And this is the world that we live in."</blockquote><br /><br />And that terrifies me.ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-55005217184255774172012-03-19T08:55:00.003-05:002012-03-19T09:00:02.652-05:00Again...Thinking about and sadly inspired by <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/US/trayvon-martin-family-seeks-fbi-investigation-killing/story?id=15949879#.T2c60NVWGZh">Trayvon Martin</a>. More to come.ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-75934941106165794772012-03-06T13:30:00.002-06:002012-03-06T13:41:00.853-06:00Really, Rush?When called out for a hateful, misogynistic tirade, <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/03/06/rush-limbaugh-defends-san_n_1324077.html?ir=Politics&ncid=edlinkusaolp00000008">please have a more original response than</a>, "One of the greatest illustrations of [a double standard] is that rappers can practically say anything they want about women, and it's called art."ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-31304885790733911042012-03-04T10:39:00.003-06:002012-03-04T10:39:00.274-06:00FYI..."Hope is a song in a weary throat."<br />-Pauli Murray, 1970ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-91552780623816052862012-03-03T10:45:00.004-06:002012-03-03T10:45:00.467-06:00Cause We Represent!Just because I love it and I wish I could dance like this...<br /><br /><object width="560" height="315"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aEwCrLpnL94?version=3&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aEwCrLpnL94?version=3&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="560" height="315" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br /><br />Yes, I know that part of the amazement and cheering is probably because, "Wow, they're big and they can move like that?" because fat people don't move and dance and exude such confidence, of course. But I like to pretend that it's an ideal world and the cheering is all because this is some bad-ass dancing by some bad-ass women.<br /><br />And speaking of full figured and beautiful...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv-M41eVjX_3yaV6U82W1LYLPKyrurAziI21IRwSzfw_nczM1UNzOJYsw3zetsjberz5Dxvl7ncVG2fEJ0Z639GwAL8otOkyaPJ3v3icEo4wZxhlRb904A3INqPfPFh-WIBnOL1Q/s1600/spurs+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 364px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv-M41eVjX_3yaV6U82W1LYLPKyrurAziI21IRwSzfw_nczM1UNzOJYsw3zetsjberz5Dxvl7ncVG2fEJ0Z639GwAL8otOkyaPJ3v3icEo4wZxhlRb904A3INqPfPFh-WIBnOL1Q/s400/spurs+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715575211575845682" /></a><br /><br /><br />Yeah, I know :-pellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-54168568160011961452012-03-02T09:32:00.001-06:002012-03-02T09:32:00.223-06:00Easing You Into Women's History Month...My godson Myles on the wonderful <a href="http://www.library.upenn.edu/exhibits/rbm/anderson/">Marian Anderson</a> (It's worth the time to listen to Myles AND scroll through the Penn exhibit linked.)<br /><br /><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/rllXX15e9iQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19408862.post-35712886855637091212012-03-01T09:20:00.002-06:002012-03-01T09:20:01.152-06:00Furthering Your Black History Knowledge... Jackie RobinsonMy godbaby, Jaren...<br /><br /><object width="560" height="315"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZuoJYUvkrzg?version=3&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZuoJYUvkrzg?version=3&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="560" height="315" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object>ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01867952598756889997noreply@blogger.com1