“I Have a Dream ... ”
I have a dream, as all men bleed-
This nation will embrace its creed:
"Equality for one and all,
Let freedom ring and racists fall."
I have a dream, in Georgia's wood-
A peaceful feast of brotherhood
As former sons of slaves unite
With sons of owners, bite for bite.
I have a dream, and it is sweet-
That even Mississippi's heat-
That heat of vile oppression's snare-
Will disappear and clear the air!
I have a dream, let me begin-
No one will judge for shade of skin,
And my four children will delight ...
Regardless black, regardless white.
I have a dream, a dream today!
And no, it will not go away.
That color does not make a man-
The content of the person can!
I have a dream, a rising noise-
That little girls and little boys
Of colors black and white will stand
Together, walking hand in hand!
I have a dream, a dream today!
In Alabama, what I say
Will vex the governor until
Those racists words must simply still ...
I have a dream, the valleys, high,
And mountains brought below the sky
Along the rough now smooth and plain-
The crooked, straight, will all remain.
As I move South, this faith and hope
Is carried with me as I grope
The hammer to beat down the stone
Of tyranny from off his throne!
In this faith, we will lift the Lord,
In brotherhood; in one accord-
In this faith, we will all prevail-
In struggles, joys, or even jail!
And this will be the greatest day-
The day when all God's children say:
"My country, 'tis of only thee-
Arise, oh land of liberty!"
And if America will be
The nation that we long to see-
Then freedom must upon each shore
Arise and travel door to door!
From New York, we let freedom ring!
From Pennsylvania, freedom ring!
From Colorado, freedom ring!
From California, freedom ring!
From Georgia, we let freedom ring!
From Tennessee, let freedom ring!
From Mississippi, freedom ring!
From every corner, freedom ring!
And when this happens, we will sing-
The majesty this day shall bring
As all God's children, black and white,
Go singing into that good night ...
"Oh, free at last, oh, free at last!
We overcome our father's past!
Remember we must make it last-
Oh, God Almighty, free at last!"
*This is a rhyming paraphrase of an excerpt from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s famous speech.
My great great great aunt, Mary McLeod Bethune
Mary McLeod Bethune was an important, yet overshadowed, civil rights activist. She is most famous for setting up schools for African American in Daytona Beach Florida. Afterwards, her school merged with cookman university to become Bethune-Cookman University. Mary McLeod Bethune was also an advisor for FDR himself. When I first found out that I was related to such an incredible figure, I was, and am, extremely proud. I truly hope that everyone tries to learn much more about her. I gave you just a taste of her magnificent cuisine.
Wearing Your Skin
I want to crawl proudly into your skin,
the colors of onyx and burnished wood,
copper, milk chocolate and creamy coffee,
rose touches and hints of sunshine,
beautiful bones and proud shining eyes,
strength and resolve and perseverance,
to bleed my colors and blend with yours.
How else can I know what it is to be black?
Now I can hear your voice, feel abandoned
and alone, forgotten by others, I hear your cries.
I walk through the slung mud of desperation,
intolerant thoughts, setbacks leaving deep wounds.
Wander through desolate deserts - a no man's land,
please don't shoot, I want to live - justice and peace
just out of black man's struggling reach, as he musters
his dreams, casting aside the threatening clouds,
shifting shadows of all he's lost through no fault of his own,
bouncing moonless because of the color of his skin,
innocent scapegoat for the sins of white men is
cast out for no reason in sharp thistles of ignorance.
Just give him a chance to rise like phoenix in sky.
How else could I know how difficult black life is
unless I sense what you feel and slip into your skin.
A True Story
Picture this:
1988. Boston, Massachusetts, Boston University.
Thanksgiving Break, Black Friday.
A black third-year Political Science major is planning to go to a reggae bar in Cambridge, called The Western Front, where he's to meet two buddies, Andreas and David. But before heading to the bar, he stops by Christy's Market, where he gets some money from an ATM and plays Galaga.
On the street outside of Christy's, he takes a left and is listening to Bob Marley's '3 o'clock Road Block' (which includes the line, "Hey, Mr. Cop, got no birth certificate on me now", which is soon to be relevant), when a cop car passes in the opposite direction. This car makes a U-turn in the circle it has entered, which the young man notices and figures they are following him. The street he's walking on is connected to Commonwealth Ave. via a bridge and is a one-way, so he checks to see if the cop car goes the wrong way on it and are therefore truly following him. Arriving on Commonwealth Ave, he crosses the street to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Plaza (more irony on this day) to wait for a bus or a cab. It starts raining and while sitting directly across the street from a Chinese restaurant, he notices another cop car sitting in front of the restaurant. As he stands, dodging raindrops, this cop car begins to circle, crossing over the trolley tracks in the middle (an illegal action that is posted as such). The young man now figures that the first car gave this car a call. Since it's raining, the cop is looking at him, and he's unsure of whether a bus or cab will be coming soon, he decides to walk to the bus and cab station to catch a ride from there. While walking, he looks over at a dorm and notices lights are on, possibly left that way for any students who hadn't gone home for Thanksgiving break. He goes to the doors and tries the first set, which don't open. He then tries the second set, which also don't open, so he goes to try the third set. Suddenly, the cop from in front of the restaurant arrives.
Says the cop, named Officer Lindy, "What are you doing? You're acting very suspicious."
"I'm a student at Boston University and I'm going into the dorm to use a phone. I'm going to the Western Front to meet some friends at a reggae bar and thought I'd call a cab to pick me up here."
"What are you doing in this area?" the cop repeats. "You're looking and acting very suspicious."
Before he can answer again, the second cop car arrives and this cop, by the name of Officer Cabral, says, "Yeah, that's him. Saw him over by Christy's." To the young man, he asks, "What were you doing? Singing?"
The young man thinks, 'Was it that bad that you had to stop me?' but remains silent.
Officer Cabral, seemingly mimicking the other cop, asks, "What are you doing in this area? You're looking and acting very suspicious."
The young man responds, for the second time, "I'm a student at Boston University. I live at (address from a couple of blocks away) and am on way to meet friends at The Western Front and was trying to use a phone to call a cab."
Just then, a cab pulls up and the young man goes to get in it, but is stopped.
Officer Cabral says, "If you're trying to catch a cab, you should know to go to Kenmore Square if you live at (address)."
After 3-4 mins of the young man and cops looking at each other, the young man decides to oblige them, so he turns to head towards Kenmore Square. But as he turns, Officer Lindy grabs his left arm. As he's originally from Chicago, our young man knows not to resist arrest from police, but since he's not actually under arrest, he's also not up for having hands laid on him, so he snatches his arm back and says, "Hey, what are you doing?"
The cops then grab him up, twist his arms behind his back, put him up against a light pole and say, "That's it, buddy, you're busted for assault and battery of a police officer." Bending the young man over the nearest cop car, Officer Cabral begins to search our young man's pants, to which the young man says, "Sir, there are no drugs."
Officer Cabral says, "We're not looking for drugs, we're looking for weapons."
Pulling out the young man's wallet and ID, the officer throws him in the back of the car and, leaving his car in front of the dorm, gets in the passenger seat, with Officer Lindy taking the wheel, and they begin to pull away. After running his ID, Officer Cabral says, "(Name), oh yeah, you ARE a Boston University student."
So our friend figures he is good; because there is a police station on campus for students, he thinks he is ok and that they're headed to the campus police station. But after a block, he notices that they're going in wrong direction. Our young man is now in worry mode, as he knows what officers do to young black men in Boston.
"So, if you see that I'm a Boston University student and I told you why I was at the door of the dorm, then why not just let me go?"
"If you hadn't have gotten smart, then we wouldn't be in this situation... If you're a Boston University student, why don't you have a Boston University ID?"
"Because I have a bursar problem."
The cops don't respond, but instead continue driving in the opposite direction of the student police station. At this point, our young man begins to panic even more. He begins to think of everything he read in the autobiography of Malcolm X and is seriously concerned...
Our young black man is soon delivered to the police station without incident, where he is brought before the desk clerk. His personal belongings are taken and he's told his bail is $20. Knowing he only has $19, he tells the desk clerk everything he told the officers, in the hopes of receiving leniency in terms of the bond. He is told 'no', but is allowed one phone call. Since he'd just left a buddy who would've had the money on-hand, he calls the friend, but since the pal was with his girlfriend - as our young man was afraid would be the case - the phone is answered and immediately dropped. So he calls another friend and that friend agrees to come down and post the bail. The bail is posted at 12 midnight, but the young man doesn't find out about it until 3am. Well, Christmas came early, because though it's the holiday weekend, the bail-bondsman, who ironically is named 'Mr. Christmas' happens to come by for another client and is told that the young man is in lock-up; he therefore fills out the required paperwork and the young man is released.
Arraignment is set for Monday, the day the young man has a Business Law midterm, which he now cannot attend. Come Monday, he calls his professor and explains the situation and is assured not to worry about the midterm; he is also given the number for an attorney he may call.
At the arraignment, he is met by Sargent Devlin of the Boston University police, who says, "They told me they had one of our boys down here. We can make this thing go away, you just have to plead 'No Contest'". The young man, being quite intelligent, thinks, 'Hmmm, that sounds like admitting to something I didn't do, which is not going to happen since I plan to go to law school.' He verifies this information with his public defender.
Later, in front of the black judge, when asked by the black D.A. how he pleads, he answers, "Not guilty," to which the D.A. says, "If the young man wants to waste the court's time, then he can pay his public defender fees."
The judge says, "We agree with the state and you will have to pay your public defender fees."
At this point, the young man thinks the whole world has gone berserk, because if an administrator of the law can say "public defender" and "pay" in the same sentence, then the world must be crazy. Fortunately, the public defender, obviously a true-blue guy, says he'd never heard of such a thing and that the young man shouldn't worry about it.
Months later, on the day of the trial, our young man arrives at court and finds that the only officer in court is Officer Cabral, who wasn't even there for the initial stop and questioning. The officer proceeds to testify as to how he observed the young man walk up to the doors of the dorm and begin to pull violently upon them. He also indicates that the young man became verbally abusive, as well as physically assaulting him "about his face and chest".
The young man writhes in his chair at the alternate facts being given, but is reassured by his public defender that he'll have his chance to tell his side.
The judge in the case is an 80-yr-old white Boston Irishman, who is falling asleep during testimony. So when the young man begins to tell his tale, he is concerned that he'll either be a victim of stereotypical Boston prejudice or that the judge will sleep through his testimony, just to wake up and give a verdict of "Guilty" just because. It is of note that part of his story includes the question, "Why would I assault an officer of the law when I'm planning to go to law school?"
However, fate, common sense, and truth win the day, as the judge wakes up, proclaims the young man "Not Guilty", and the young man is released. As he is leaving the courtroom, Officer Cabral waves a hand and says, "Good luck in law school." At this moment, the young man realizes he'd seen the officer somewhere else before and it takes him a few weeks to recall that Officer Cabral is a security guard at Boston University's Rich campus, as well as a police officer for the Boston University police. Also, he recalls that Officer Cabral was working one night when he attended a party with some young white ladies. So he then begins to believe that his arrest, detention, and aggravation was caused as much by racial profiling by the police as racial attitudes in general in regards to relationships between blacks and whites.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The young man in question, now 51-years-old, DID finish Law School, and when my S.O. tells me, as well as others, his tale, he always gets visibly upset. And so it goes, that indeed, the effect of some experiences truly do never fully abate.
**As a point of note, the same thing occurred twenty years later, in 2008, to Dr. Henry Louis Gates, who was arrested after returning to his home and finding he had no key, thereby causing him to break into his own home, at which point the police were called. Even after presenting his ID with the same address as where he was standing, he was taken to jail.
Shades
The colours of my world
ardent orange and green
were shades apart
and hungry to be seen.
Without shouted slights
and the colours’ mark
strangers looked twice
before finding us out.
We wore colours to fight
And also to grieve
Embroidered, wreathed
on chests and sleeves.
Simple chances of birth
punctuated our hate
and our side was chosen
by the writing of fate.
History is just old news
but the bands and fights
guns and bullets too
kept the banners bright.
We were enslaved
And let difference in
as though our shades
were painted on skin.
Araminta
These rifles and torches enflaming the night
Send hunters alike in their needless brutality.
Rewards are pursued for the carcass of me.
Not ever was hailed in these prejudice cities.
I try to escape their assailable light.
I can feel the weight of their spite.
It bears down on my tender knees.
The screams and cries of brethren pleas
Encourage my ankles to run through these leaves.
My bare feet escaping with all of their might.
Cant Stop! Not once for a single breath.
Keep Pace! Pass pain and opposing trees.
They're close! Those men of besetting light.
The body is bored with this mud-laced path
But agony leads me to freedom only.
My finishing line has come into sight.
Pennsylvania becomes heaven away from the wrath.
Realization through tears as I fall to my knees.
I am not the same person that escaped that night.
Daddy is not well
I grabbed Daddy's hand, asked him to pick me up to hug him. But he was not well. He kissed me on the head and apologized, but it wasn't his fault.
The overseer came to the house without a knock, he looked at Daddy and said "Boy, I'm gonna whip you this morning."
"I ain't done nothing." Daddy pushed me away from the man's sight- and I stayed there.
"I know it, I'm going to whip you to keep from doing nothing." and he hit him with that cowhide. It would cut the blood out of him with every lick if he hit him hard. And I stayed there: I could hear Daddy, he was loud, he was not well, he was crying.
Black roots
Slapped in the chains of freedom
Slaved to my history
Constant pulling of the rope across my neck
Swinging the conscience of being black
The end result life or death
To die dipped in red
Or to live white
To become apart of the shadows
To hide in the alleyways
Afraid of a bullet put to the brain
Wips engraved in my back
Slave roots sinking in my blood
Slips yes M out of their mouths
My masters says hands on my back
The hope in my chest that rises in me to protest
Racial assimaltion that threatens to wash down my black roots
That causes me to hide behind my black roots
And bleach my midnight blue skin
Dark and crisp burnt by the sun
Echoes melanin
Colors bright and mysterious
Alluring and devious
And strong
inbraided in my african hair
Amercanized when I was shackled and brought
To the land of the free
Blood dripping down from mouth hit with the reality of this land of milk and honey singing sweet hyms of the promised land
That a black man gotta earn it´s name of being
A black man got no write washing his hand in the holy water
He is already christened with hate
He is already baptised in the blood-shed of his ancestors
He is already marked as another nigger
He will bow his head down and turn the another cheek
He will work until his back break
He will carry the burden of our nation africa
He will have to fight ten times harder for his birthright
To eqauilty
He will bite back his anger
He will curb his appetite to entertain such fanciful dreams
Of his baby will not be turned into a headstone
His cracked and dry with ash
Plowing hard into the ground
And reaping to find rich soil
His skin oiled to heal the from the last whip he reccived for being opened minded
He keeps his mouth shut
And mumbles grumbles this song
About a drinking gourd
The black man grows up
The whips turn to bats
The bats turn to guns
The freedom becomes
Lost in the history books
The struggle becomes blurred in the lines of hate
The hope becomes frayed
The fist pumping in the air
Turns to guns popping
We must remember that
We can´t kill hate with hate
In the words of martin Luther king I have a dream
I HAVE A Dream that one day
One day
This dream of love will prosper this earth
I hope this becomes our dream as citizens to unite and bleed color