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The Promise of Palmettos

The Promise of Palmettos.

The Road to Memphis and a Seat at the Lorraine

Oh where to begin. There is so much to say, so I’ll start at the beginning. I grew up with the Logan Family. I have been living with them since the age of nine. Periodically, throughout the years, I would return to Mississippi for a visit. If you are a Mildred D. Taylor fan like I am, then you know who I am talking about. The book, Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry has always stayed with me because it was about a strong Black family who struggled to hold on to their property in the 1930s and 40s. The story reminded me so much of my own family that I was compelled to write, The Promise of Palmettos. Ms. Taylor was as much of an influence to me as my own family, so I was over the moon when she wrote Let the Circle Be Unbroken and The Road to Memphis. No wonder the Civil War/Reconstruction and World War II are my favorite eras in history.

This weekend, I was excited to finally walk in the steps, somewhat, of main character, Cassie Logan as my husband and I headed to Memphis ourselves. Although Cassie was a fictional character, I got chills as I rode along Highway 51, the same roadway she and her friends took from Jackson, Mississippi into this city (I was coming from the direction of Millington). As we made our way through Memphis, I became excited as I took in the architecture of downtown, traveling along the streets and taking in the sites I had only read about. My jubilation was quickly and abruptly squelched however, when we came across Jackie Smith at the Lorraine Motel. One may ask, “Who is Jackie Smith?” Well she is a woman. A Black woman who has set up shop across the street from the very place where Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. She has her folding table set up beneath an umbrella to protect her and her little pamphlets from the hot sun. Three signs are hung from her table:

1. Stop Worshipping the Past, Start Living the Dream
2. This site Honors James Earl Ray
3. Gentrification is an Abuse of Civil Liberties

My husband and I just stood there with identical incredulous looks on our faces, taking in the foolery and watched as people passed by this woman’s table and asked questions. And she rationalized her ignorance. Ms. Smith is protesting the Lorraine Motel Historical Monument. She refuses to enter the museum because she feels that it goes against everything Martin Luther King, Jr. stood for. Instead of preserving the site, she feels that the motel should be low income housing. Therefore, she has sat at her perch, across the street for – wait for it – The past. Twenty-three. Years. I have to say that my problems with Jackie Smith are so huge that I am going to have to address her and her little signs one by one.

1. Stop Worshipping the Past, Start Living the Dream
To me, history isn’t something with which to dwell, but to learn from and be inspired by. Although Cassie Logan was a fictional character, her experiences with segregation and discrimination were very much real. To forget, is disrespectful. Let me say that again. To forget is disrespectful. It is disrespectful to discount the past sacrifices made that got us to this point in history. It is on the shoulders of our ancestors that we stand. So Miss Lady thinks that the site of Martin Luther King’s death all paved over and white washed would serve his legacy better? According to her, we are forgetting his dream. Excuse me? So instead of working to help the people that she feels this site should have been for, this lady sits there and hands out pamphlets that spout her ignorance. Meanwhile, people who gather at her table are seeking her permission to forget about Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Civil Rights Movement. My husband and I hear the murmurings, “She’s got a point,” from the crowd as she is telling the public, with her protest, that it is okay for them to not acknowledge that era of our American History. If we people of color do not remember and honor Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and others who fought for our Civil Rights, why should everyone else? And if we don’t, who will? If madam has ever read a history book, listened to the stories of her ancestors, and gotten over herself, she would know that Black people, even before Martin Luther King, Jr., knew that to be successful in this country, they had to have an education (vocational or formal) in order to be elevated to the middle class. As a result, they would be economically successful.

2. This site Honors James Earl Ray.
What does sitting there with a one-woman show, steps away from where the shots were fired to assassinate Martin Luther King Jr., actually do? Who does it even help? People – Black and White – visit the Lorraine Motel. They shed tears. They say a prayer. They teach their children. Among this, I am not seeing how any of this honors James Earl Ray. If anyone is setting up a monument for King’s murderer, it is Jackie Smith. She is murdering history with her propaganda. Her pseudo philosophies are just firing the fatal shot all over again. Only instead of killing the body, she’s killing the dream King left behind. And I resent her very presence. Sun up to sun down, she’s out there. How exactly is she contributing to the society she feels the Lorraine Motel abandoned? That is all I have to say about that foolishness.

3. Gentrification is an abuse of Civil Liberties.
I get that people have issues with gentrification and rightly so. The displacement of residents and the loss of history are the serious downsides. But in order for economic prosperity and revitalization to occur, gentrification needs to happen. Also, consider the fact that gentrification is no longer just confined to small pockets in the urban area. The process is globalized as government entities recognize that the purposeful placement of the middle class brings in a much needed tax base, resulting in economic stability. And Martin Luther King, Jr. was all for that. Also, the globalization of gentrification means that it is not going away. At all. That is why we need to gentrify our own selves! If you can’t beat the process, be a part of the process. And if Miss Lady is saying that the Lorraine Motel is a sign of gentrification, then why isn’t she sitting outside of other gentrified spaces like the rehabilitated commercial properties, the gated infill neighborhoods (Uh, you don’t gate urban single family residential spaces, but that’s another blog post), or the pedestrian walkway/trolley route with her little pamphlets?

I cannot with Ms. Smith. I can respect a difference of opinion. But I cannot respect this so-called stand that she has taken. In fact, I am going to need her to have all of the seats available.

Now I want to speak directly to Miss Smith: If you want to take a stand for the homeless and the poor, then take your stand by doing something that will actually help them. Sitting outside of a historical site, baking in the Tennessee sun and freezing in the Tennessee winter for the past 23 years will not get the homeless and the poor the tools that they need to strive for that economic prosperity that King preached about in his I’ve Been to the Mountain Top Speech. Remember that speech for the sanitation workers given in your fair city the day before he died? You say stop worshipping the past? Really? The Lorraine Motel Monument has been built, drawing hundreds of people daily, so clearly people want to pay homage to Martin Luther King, Jr. They want to. So that ship has sailed. Meanwhile, you madam, still remain on the shore. Going nowhere. Such a shame, though. Think of all the people you could have helped if that was truly your agenda.

Cassie Logan would be ashamed of this. All she and people like her endured so that we can have our civil rights, and this Jackie Smith woman is the payback. But her signs mean nothing to me. That road to Memphis has been my inspiration and I will carry it with me always.

Let’s Give a Shout Out!

As people come to know me, they will soon find out about my sister. I have to explain that as far as sisters go, no one else has one of these. No one. Seriously. And when they do meet her or have any interaction with her at all, they’ll find out very quickly what I am talking about. My sister is an original. I’m saying all of this to say that in addition to her infectious personality, propensity for making up names for things, having an incredible knack for telling side-splitting stories, and other quirks that are too numerous to name, she has these segments on Facebook that garner plenty of attention from those who follow her. My favorite is the Shout Out segment. Now the original meaning for the phrase, Shout Out is to give people a greeting or praise. However, my sister uses the Shout Out to let’s just say to… acknowledge those lacking in common sense and common courtesy. It’s quite hilarious, actually. Well I hope that my sister doesn’t mind, but I’m going to borrow her Shout Outs for this blog post. Only, I want to use the term Shout Out for its original purpose: to give praise. So, without further ado, here are my Shout Outs:

My first Shout Out goes to Naomi. In spite of it being illegal, she learned to read and write. For slaves, literacy was more than knowing what their white owners knew. For Naomi and the other slaves, having an education meant finally being seen as more than 3/5 of person or a second-class citizen. Having an education would do something that merely being brought to these shores could not do. What fighting in the wars for freedom could not do. What speaking in English and becoming a Christian could not do. For slaves and freedmen alike, having an education meant finally being regarded as an American.

I want to give a Shout Out to teachers like Charlotte Forten Grimke, who dedicated their lives to teaching the newly freed slaves. Thanks to the Port Royal Experiment, descendants of Naomi’s generations were able to become educated. Getting a good education had always been apart of Black American Culture. After gaining freedom, it was important for former slaves to have learning. Our people may not have had the most pristine setting for a house of learning, but they sure knew how to school. These students didn’t just receive “book learning” but life learning. In other words: It was not only important to gain knowledge of the 3 R’s, but they needed to learn how to function in mainstream society. Lessons actually included diction and etiquette. I mean how else would people who were once in bondage ever be taken seriously? This actually reminds me of all of the “extras” I learned while attending Hampton University. I still remember a sternly worded lecture in my Mass Media class on the art of being a good tipper. I digress. Anyway, our people have always been survivors and knew that obtaining a well-rounded education would lead to success.

Of course there were some aspects of educating Black people that were up for debate: Should we learn a trade like Booker T. Washington believed, or should we compete on an intellectual level as argued by W.E.B. DuBois. So Shout Out to both men because they understood that having an education, whether it was learning a trade or becoming a professional, was a way for Black citizens to be competitive.

Shout Out to Thurgood Marshall and those countless students who fought against education discrimination. Facilities for Blacks may have been separate, but they sure weren’t equal. Of course today, we are dealing with “resegregation” and once again separate is not equal… but, moving on.

Shout Out to the student activists of the 1960s who knew that it was not enough just to have a good education. They knew that they needed to work to fix society’s ills – segregation, discrimination, disenfranchisement – in order for us all to have a better future. These students risked their own education in this fight for equal rights.

Shout Out to the It’s-a-Black-Thing-activists-Malcolm-X-cap-wearing-positive-rap creating/reciting-A-Different-World-and-School-Daze-watching-HBCU-attending-learn-your-history-urging-Africa-shaped-medallion-sporting-Bob-Marley-jamming-give-back-to-the-community-Fight-the-power-students of the 1990s.

The importance of education was passed down from generation to generation. To that end, I want to give a Shout Out to people like my grandparents, who were always telling us to go and “get our learnin’.” I acknowledge them because economics did not permit them to get a college education, but they made sure their children had one. They knew that getting a degree was the key to their children and grandchildren reaching that coveted middle class status. And it wasn’t just our Grandmamas, Gramees, Big Mamas, Mamas, Granddaddies, Grampees, Big Daddies, and Daddies giving this message to their own children, but was imparted to all of the children of the ‘hood, island, or country. Getting a good education was a part of Black culture and reinforced throughout tightly-knit neighborhoods. Then our neighborhoods broke down and there went the expectation for higher learning. Now, as a people, we are so far removed from the educational mindset Naomi’s generation, it’s a tragedy. And this is one of the reasons I implore people to Gentrify your Own Self!

As a people, we have to get back that culture of education success. Although we are still presenting theories as how to achieve this, I say we give a Shout Out to those who have brought us this far. But first as we look to Naomi and shout her out, please remember what getting a good education is all about for our people and where it started.

Who is Naomi, you ask? Read Marshland and find out :).

Remembering Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

One of my favorite shows growing up was the sitcom, A Different World. This show greatly influenced my decision to not only to attend an HBCU (Historically Black Colleges and Universities), but to attend Hampton University. It reminded me of the fictional Hillman College, which was also in Virginia. A Different World would influence me again in my desire to become a college professor, particularly with the Martin verses Malcolm episode, called Great X-pectations. The students were given an assignment where they were to imagine what words had been exchanged between the two Civil Rights icons in their one and only meeting on March 26, 1964. I loved how the characters Dorian Heyward and Terrell Walker used the famous quotes of Malcolm and Martin to respectfully debate how to best approach opponents of the movement for equality. I cannot help but to think how far our people have come since that time period of inequality and segregation. But, we still have further to go. Dr. King talked a lot about the dream of racial equality and I am pretty sure that’s what most people are remembering today as we celebrate his birth. Dr. King represented so much more than that though. He was also for economic prosperity for minorities and the poor. We all know that Dr. King was assassinated in 1968 while in Memphis, Tennessee. He had been working with the striking sanitation workers, who were protesting for job safety, better wages, benefits, and a place in the union. This is common knowledge. You may have read my blog a few posts ago,about how Dr. King and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) had their retreats at Penn Center on Saint Helena Island, South Carolina in order to plan their Civil Rights strategies. What you may not know and what I have recently found, is that Penn Center was where Dr. King developed the “Poor People’s Campaign,” that served Blacks, Hispanics, Native Americans, and poor Whites. You can read more about it here.

Economic prosperity is still a portion of Dr. King’s dream many of us have yet to realize. As hard as it is, we need to work towards this portion of the dream. We need to save our money a little at a time. We also need to invest in our neighborhoods, to rebuild our culture, which includes getting a good education and building our wealth for future generations. Yes, I am back on that again – Gentrify Your Own Self! So as we remember Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. today, please understand that this Civil Rights leader was much more than speeches and marches. He was more than a leader of Black people. He was a leader of all people.

Happy Martin Luther King Day!

Gentrify Your Own Self!

Pardon me for the misuse of English in this first post of 2014, but I can’t think of a better way to get across my point. What I want to discuss in this post this evening, is the concept of “Self-Gentrification.” What is that, you ask? Well, let’s just put a pin in that for a second. First, let’s start with the meaning of “gentrification.” Now I can just link the word to an online dictionary and you can read for yourself what “gentrification” means but I think I have a better way to get across what I am talking about by providing the following anecdote:

So you are a kid raised in a neighborhood/ward/island/city, living in a Brownstone/Row House/Creole Cottage/Seaside Rancher/80s Style Traditional, where you have your own culture. Only you don’t think of it as “culture,” but as a comfortable way that you live your life. Maybe your traditions include going door-to-door to sample food during the holidays, fishing with handmade nets, parading trick horses down the street, or dancing in Second Lines. That hole-in-wall eatery on the corner makes the best red rice/gumbo/seafood boil/okra, tomato, and corn in the world. That fruit and vegetable stand, has the juiciest peaches, the ripest tomatoes, and the sweetest watermelon. Your neighbors helped to raise you. The seamstress, midwife, and mechanic are all within walking distance. They know who you and your parents are. This is the way of life in which you were raised, your parents were raised, your grandparents were raised…and so on. So years go by and you grow up. You may go away to college, travel abroad, and/or get that corporate career. Then you meet someone and you are ready to settle down now. Only instead of returning to the neighborhood/ward/island/city, you settle in This City East, West That City, or Upwardly Mobile Metropolis. Wherever it is, it’s in the ‘burbs, with the silhouette of the downtown skyscrapers visible in the distance. No matter where it is, you are now living in that cookie cutter, corner lot, open concept, granite/quartz countertops with the island prep space, stainless steel appliances, luxury en suite, gargantuan-sized master bedroom, and equally gargantuan master closet. You just know that is the perfect house that says, “I’ve made it!” One day, you’re feeling nostalgic or you’re going home to visit the folks on the holidays, only to find that most your neighbors and friends are gone, most of the surrounding homes abandoned, that favorite hole-in-the-wall eatery is all boarded up, and crime has run rampant. And what happened to the AME church where you were Baptized? About now, you are thinking, “I’ve gotten out of here in the nick of time.” You try to convince your parents to leave as well but they say, “no way.” Nothing or no one will run them out of a neighborhood they have lived in and raised their family for X number of years. So as this new reality of what has become of your old ‘hood rattles around in your mind, you notice the new neighbors who are unloading their U-haul. They look nothing like the people you have grown up with. Their faces hold expressions of new beginnings, excitement, enjoyment, and discovery. Your parents explain that they are John and Jane Newcomer and they had moved in from West This City and bought and fixed up the Brownstone/Row House/Creole Cottage/Seaside Rancher/80s Style Traditional for the last few weeks and wouldn’t it be nice if you brought them some home cooking and welcome them into the neighborhood (they’d already introduced themselves when they first saw them – that whole neighborhood watch thing). While you’re wondering who in the world would live in this rundown place on purpose, you do as suggested and take food over to the new neighbors. They hesitate to let you in at first, but once you explain whose child you are (“Oh Mr. and Mrs Been Here’s child from next door!”), the fear in their faces disappear and you are invited inside. They are eager to show off what they have done with the place. The first thing that you notice is that the space has been renovated with the very amenities that you covet in your own home in This City East, West That City, or Upwardly Mobile Metropolis. They’ve maintained the charm of the original structure but there is the open floor plan, granite/quartz countertops with island prep space; original hardwood floors (what do you mean no carpet?), reconfigured master bedroom with spa-like en suite, and closet organizer. Okay, I may be exaggerating a bit but I’m trying to paint a picture here. So you leave your old neighborhood and return to West This City, That City East, or Upwardly Mobile Metropolis, giving the changes a little thought as you settle back into your normal routine of perfect suburbia-tude. When you return to your ‘hood, you have found that more new people have moved in. These new “come heres” are not friendly like the first set. Although their curtains are drawn, they don’t speak to anyone, and they go about their daily lives, their standoffish and private culture contaminate the indigenous traditions. The homes have been fixed up but have kept the character that you have taken for granted. There is a Starbucks and a Subways, so there is no more desire for that down home hole-in-the-wall eatery and they have been run out of business. Where are the people you know? Well the high property taxes ran the rest of them out of the neighborhood/ward/island/city. Thinking of grabbing your trumpet and joining that Second Line that just passed by your door? The cops are about to shut it down before it gets to the next corner because your new neighbors just complained about the noise. Does the new security gate prevent you from taking food to the new neighbors during the holidays? What about church on Sunday? Oh no, that’s gone too. Replaced by the mega interfaith church outside of the neighborhood. I could go on but you know what I am saying is very familiar and you can fill in the blanks with your own stories of displacement. So with this transition, the people and culture of the neighborhood/ward/island/city has disappeared. And all of this that I have described is “gentrification.” I’m pretty sure that Webster’s does not cover the term to this magnitude.

So getting back to “Gentrifying your own self!” What I mean is sure, go away to school, join the Peace Corps, travel, spend a couple of years in that upwardly mobile place, and earn all of the promotions, but come back home. I mean do not sell the Brownstone/Row House/Creole Cottage/Seaside Rancher/80s style traditional that you have inherited. If you have not inherited one, return to your neighborhood or a place that is similar to your old neighborhood and buy one for an inexpensive mortgage. And if you happen to purchase a home where you are not familiar with the traditions, learn them. Make them yours. This way you are adding to the richness of the ‘hood, not taking from it. That money that you had planned to spend on your cookie cutter, corner lot, open
concept, granite/quartz countertops with the island prep space, stainless steel appliances, luxury en suite and so on, put that into your valuable historic home. The advantage? You can keep that hole-in-the-wall eatery on the corner that serves the best creole/lowcountry/wharfstyle/indigenous cuisine. You can keep the fruit and vegetable stand because you’re still there to buy the extra sweet peaches, ripe tomatoes, and sweet watermelon. You can go to the beach because you kept the beach access. You can grab your trumpet and join in on that Second Line that just passed by your porch, because who is going to call the cops on your own people? Do you see where I am going here? Gentrify your own self! Oh sure West This City, That City East, and Upwardly Mobile Metropolis have larger lot sizes, larger master bedrooms, larger walk-in closets, that illusion of security, the so-called best schools, and the famous mega church, but where does that really fall into the scheme of things? We are losing ourselves. Our children don’t have that cultural reinforcement they need in order to find their place in life and be successful.

This is not about separation or segregation. This is about reclaiming what is yours. This is about you finding the value in where you were raised and where your family was raised before someone else does and by the time you have realized that you gave up your diamond in the rough, it is too late to reverse that decision. This is about building a strong neighborhood that can maintain strong cultures, which is instrumental in giving our children a sense of purpose. This goes along the lines of my last post concerning the reasons, teaching history should still be relevant. Gentrify your own self! I’m talking to myself as well. It’s time for us to go home. To our real home. All of us.

Is History History?

I grew up on movies that starred “The Brat Pack” and the like. It seemed like these big named teenaged actors were always shown in some history class where the teacher droned on in a monotone about endless dates and events while students were lulled into a dull stupor. Believe it or don’t, but I actually hated high school history class and it wasn’t because I was forced to memorize that the Battle of Hastings began in 1066 (Okay I have groaned to my mother “Why oh why do we have to learn this? How will this help me find a job?” But I grew out of asking those ignorant questions). The biggest reason why I hated high school history was because I was one of three Black people in a class among students who drove Beemers, Benzes, and any other high end car that you can think of (that always gets wrapped around a tree in their respective subdivisions). Being one of the few Black students in class, was something I was very used to and actually comfortable with as a result of my elementary years being spent in Teaneck, so that wasn’t the problem. It was just that there, in an atmosphere where almost everyone was an United States immigrant, I didn’t always have to defend my Blackness. In high school, I did. It was an intellectual fight daily. Yes, I know that I went to school in Hilton Head, but it was still the south. I always found myself having to defend why I would vote for Jesse Jackson, if I could vote (I wouldn’t now); why the Civil Rights movement had to occur; and why we would not appreciate still being held in bondage. Oh yes, a classmate actually said to me that slavery was a good thing because it made us Black people more civilized (What? A continent that produced the pyramids, royalty, and early forms of government needs lessons in civilization?!?!). When I protested her stupid logic, she proceeded to call me the “N” word. Nice huh?

I did not like History class, but I loved learning History. My favorite periods are the Civil War, along with the surrounding events, and World War II. See in my readings, I know that the Civil War wasn’t just about freeing the slaves or about White people oppressing Black people. While true, it was all about economics. No one will give up something that makes money. The point I am making here is my knowledge of that, helps me to understand why in present times, the rich are getting richer and the middle and poor classes are getting the shaft. So I just demonstrated one reason why we still need to be taught history. The point with this one example is to convince people that learning history is still necessary today even among science, math, and computer technology. When history is erased, humans are not only doomed to repeat the same mistakes, but they become ignorant to cause-and-effect events that can greatly impact their lives.

Recently, I asked a question on my Facebook page if history was still relevant. There were many responses posted to the thread that suggests that it should not be cut from the school curriculum to make way for STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math). Some of the other comments were are follows:

1) Basic Knowledge! – Most students can’t tell the difference between The Constitution and The Bill of Rights. Now you know George Washington and the other Founders of this country are rolling over in their graves.

2) Students need to know that they too can make history and be instruments of change. It’s hard to be a change agent if a person does not understand what and why something needs to be changed. For example, how would people know the significance of sections of The Voting Rights Act being repealed if they don’t know the history behind it?

3) History is political, national, and cultural identity and it needs to be taught not only from just the dominant perspective, but from all perspectives. Absolutely! Every culture has history. People who know their history understand their place in society and have a better chance of being successful.

4) History needs to be discussed as it relates to contemporary culture. Absolutely again! Learning history helps us to understand present society. It’s that whole being an instrument of change thing.

5) Parents need to be instrumental in teaching history. This means passing down personal stories (even the painful ones) and traditions. You don’t want someone else knowing more about than you know about yourself. Forewarned is forearmed.

6) Learn your history so that you don’t look like a complete fool on Twitter. http://www.awesomelyluvvie.com/2013/12/50-dumbest-tweets-2013.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+Luvvie+%28Awesomely+Luvvie%29
OMG, enough said…

I remember while attending Hampton, my classmates a pretty militant bunch, always talked about “His” Story being the only one that is told and we needed to learn “Our” story. As a history teacher, I am really sad to say that today’s students don’t care about “His” Story or any “Other” story. Maybe that is what the powers-that-be are feeding off of. They don’t make history a priority, because we as a society do not. In order to change that, we need to do better. We need to collectively value the lessons that came before and build on that knowledge so that we do not continue to repeat the same patterns. We need to start with our family history. I guarantee that those stories are intertwined, with “His,” “Our,” and “All” stories.

The Ethnic Tip

As I am delving further into Cultural Studies, I am finding out some interesting things. So as I mentioned a couple of weeks ago in my blog, I have to do a service learning project. At times, these projects are geared towards social justice, meaning that awareness is brought to problems and resources are provided to address those problems. In my Cultural Studies class, we learned about the Highlander Research and Education Center, through assigned readings, a presentation made by our professor and this engaging film called, You Got to Move. For over an hour I sat there mesmerized as I watched the documentary of how Highlander was utilized to mobilize against different injustices that occurred not only in Appalachia, but in other places, particularly the Jim Crow South. Highlander actually reminded me of Penn Center on Saint Helena Island in South Carolina. I interned there a couple of summers, so I know a bit about it.

The Penn School was founded in 1862, three years before the end of the American Civil War. This normal school was a part of the Port Royal Experiment, which I kind of allude to in my book, Marshland. These philanthropists, abolitionist, and missionaries came to Beaufort after the Confederates were run off by Union soldiers. Their purpose was to prepare former slaves for freedom by teaching them to read and to learn trades. Like the Highlander, the Penn Center served as a safe place during the Civil Rights Movement where Black and White folks could convene, organize, and strategize in peace. In fact, Martin Luther King and Southern Christian Leadership Conference visited both sites. Today, the social justice purpose of Penn Center (What it is called today) is focused on preserving the Gullah culture in spite of the rapid development taking place on the Sea Islands.

One more thing before I sign off: So as I am writing this blog – in my sleep deprived state – I am strongly reminded of a particular The Fresh Prince of Bel Air Episode. Yes, I know that this is taking me off on a serious tangent, but not really. There is this episode that was first aired in 1991 (and a part of my VHS collection) called The Ethnic Tip where Vivian Banks, played by Janet Hubert, was teaching a Black History Course at Bel Air Academy. To my shock and delight, she assigns her nephew, Will Smith (Will Smith) and son, Carlton Banks (Alfonso Ribeiro) a paper on The Port Royal Experiment and the Penn School. If you want to see what episode I am talking about, you can view it here . I guess I am finding it necessary to mention The Ethnic Tip because as crazy as The Fresh Prince of Bel Air could be, it had some pretty good messages and I respect the fact that they even did an episode on such important institution of American History. I mean really, how many people actually know about places like Highlander and Penn Center?

Anyway, I am not going to give away the details, in case you have never seen it, but I will say that Aunt Viv, wouldn’t have had to tell me twice to do a 15 page paper. She might have even gotten one that was 25 pages. IJS.

It’s All About that Culture Baby!

I think that is fair to say that it’s been more than a few weeks since I’ve posted on my blog. I actually have a good reason for that. I am going to school for my PHd. So add The University of Tennessee to my list of schools. My degree is going to be in education with a concentration in – wait for it – Cultural Studies. It’s a lot of work, this first semester. There are a lot of reading assignments and class discussions. Then I have to find time to publish journal articles (be on the look out for mine at some point), not to mention thinking about my topic for my dissertation. If you know me, it will be something about the Gullah-Geechee Culture. In addition to that, as a Cultural Studies student, I have to do service learning projects, where I give my time outside of the university to perform services that give back to the community. It’s actually a good concept because it gives students field experience rather than keeping us buried in our books. So I had been wracking my brains trying to figure out what to do. How do I tie my love of culture and history into a service learning project? Well believe it or not, the answer came to me in the form of my 8-year-old son. He always has what I call, “under the radar” knowledge. It’s that he knows something but you don’t know that he knows. But when this kid shows you what he knows in that nonchalant way of his, I don’t know about anyone else, but you can knock me over with a feather. So my eight-year-old and I were reviewing vocabulary and the word was “sew.” I asked him to tell me what it meant. So my 8-year-old responds, “You know when Granny Janie (he makes a sewing gesture) pulled the ‘string’ through the cloth?” Through my tears I told him that was exactly what she had done. I could barely hear my own voice when I asked him what the “string” was called. I couldn’t believe he remembered that Granie Janie sewed quilts. First, she was my grandmother and his great-grandmother. Secondly, she passed away when he was 5-years-old. The other thing that got to me was the impact that my grandmother had made on my son. I’m grateful for his memories. Who knows what else my grandmother left with him? Or as my father always says, and maybe he is right, “This child has been here before.” Anyway, I began to realize that everytime someone passes on, a bit of history dies with them…That is if they hadn’t passed it down to the next generation. Just yesterday in my sociology class, we discussed the fact that history courses are disappearing to make way for new subjects that would supposedly catapult us further into the 21st Century. But our history is important too and I wish that people would not forget that. After all, ef oona ent know weh oona da qwibe, oona should kno weh oona kum from (If you don’t know where you’re going, you should know where you come from).

So my idea for my project is simple: People should talk to their grandparents or the oldest person they know and ask them to tell what life was like growing up. Then write it down in a journal. That way people can keep their own history and culture alive.

So I am going to try my best to juggle my school work and hopefully find time to blog. Who knows, maybe I’ll post a journal article or two 😉

To See or Not to See (“Lee Daniels’ The Butler,”) that is the Question

There is a lot of hoopla surrounding the new movie, Lee Daniels’, The Butler that was released this past Friday. Some of the discussion is positive, while some, eh not so much. The bad actually has me kind of floored but I’ll go more into detail concerning that a bit later.

For those who do not know the storyline, the movie is about Cecil Gaines, played by Forest Whitaker, who basically worked in the White House as a butler. Whitaker’s character is actually based on the real life events of Eugene Allen. There are some who have seen the movie already and have expressed how much they enjoyed it. Others, like myself, have not seen the movie yet but have every intention to do so. Then there are some who have stated adamantly that they refuse to see the movie. Like I said, this film has stirred up a lot of hoopla.

Now I usually do not blog about such controversial matters. I think that there are plenty of bloggers who adequately cover these issues, but seeing that I just published a Historical Fiction novel myself not too long ago, I needed to understand the objections because it’s pretty scary to think that someone won’t even give my book a chance at all because of the material. Just when I had gotten a handle on one issue in an effort to try to understand, another angle on the outrage was thrown out for me to analyze. As I explained it to my husband, mother, and sister, the people who have something to say about Lee Daniels’ The Butler fall into five camps (actually I told them about four, but I found that there is yet another group and the numbers may continue to rise).

1. The First Camp are people who say they will see this movie regardless. They believe that these are the stories that must be told and are teaching moments for the future generations. I mean how awesome would it be to see a story based on real life where a Butler received a position in the White House and holds that position for over three decades? Can you imagine being in the political epicenter during a time when the most notable of historical events have occurred? Being a butler is more than doing the obvious tasks, like answering the door, being a servant, and the overall management of the household. There there are the unspoken jobs of being seen and not heard, being a confidant, and remaining composed in difficult situations. A butler knows all the dirt in the house (pun intended). Do the children of our generation know how to be subtle or is it more important to them to “get someone told” in order to save face? Movies like Lee Daniels’ The Butler teaches us that we have survived because of the strength of those that came before us.

2. The Second Camp are people who think that there are too many stories about butlers, maids, slaves, and the broken Black American family home, and not enough movies about strong stable Black families (because we do actually have those) and heroes. I agree that there should be more movies that shine a positive light on people of color. The question is should we just have one and totally throw out the other? Or should we keep those movies that talk about those hard things but make more of an effort to include a movie where people of color have a storyline with a more positive storyline.

3. The Third School of Thought said, “Okay yes, we have to have stories about maids, slaves, and families that are torn apart, but do they have to be so violent?” People in this camp believe that these films show too much brutality to the point where it’s overkill. In fact, I found out that people call these movies, “Historical Porn.” Too much screaming. Too much blood hitting the screen. Too much humiliation. Too much. Oh really? Too much? Well tell that to the people who were whipped, hanged, raped, drowned, castrated, tarred and feathered, burned alive, drawn and quartered, shot, dismembered, watched their family killed, blown away with a fire hose, bludgeoned… shall I continue?

4. The Fourth Camp were tired of these scripts written by – let’s just say – not “us.” I understand that outrage. For me however, it’s just one more thing I don’t have the energy to complain about. Does no good anyway. So instead, I choose to pick up a pen and get to writing.

5. The Fifth Group is one to which I can relate. These people avoid these type of movies like Lee Daniels, The Butler for the same reason I refuse to see Precious or For Colored Girls. It is the reason I walked out of the room on Antwan Fisher. These types of movies awaken emotions that can be difficult for me to handle, so I just as soon avoid it.

Personally, I respect the fact that people have different opinions concerning movies like Lee Daniels’ The Butler, although I may not necessarily agree. And no, I do not think that anyone has an obligation to see this movie because it is a Black film. Frankly, if you feel that you won’t enjoy the storyline of this movie or any movie, then by all means, please save your $10.25. What I do not like however, is when big named people try to mess with other people’s money by being negatively vocal about something someone else has created. We spend so much time complaining about how POC do not get a fair shot on the big screen, so why is it that when a movie does come out with a Black cast some people have to publicly berate them? That, I do not respect. Not at all.

Anyway, I will see the film. It may not be in a theater, but I will see it because as a teacher, student, and writer of history, this a movie that interests me. And I will continue to write historical fiction because it interests me, and I want to share it. Based on these five schools of thought, people will either read my book or they won’t. I know I cannot please everyone, although I do try. All I ask is for a chance and the hope that someone will find interest in the story that I want to tell.