Saturday, February 4, 2012

Brave Bessie Coleman (Black History for Kids)


http://sweetblackberry.org/2011/11/18/brave-bessie 

Bessie Coleman, the first African American female pilot, grew up in a cruel world of poverty and discrimination. Coleman was born in Atlanta, Texas, in 1892 as the tenth of thirteen children. They settled in Waxahachie, Texas, and worked as sharecroppers. Her mother encouraged Bessie’s schooling when she showed an aptitude for math. She eventually moved to Chicago and lived with her brother Walter, a Pullman porter. She became a manicurist and worked in the White Sox barbershop. After learning French, she attended the famous flight school, Ecole d’Aviation des Frères Caudron in Northern France. No schools in America would train a black person.
Coleman returned to the states and performed acrobatics in air shows around the country and gave lectures inspiring audiences that included many children. She believed that there was freedom in the skies and would not perform in an air show with a segregated audience.

In 1998, Reeve Lindbergh, daughter of world-renowned aviator, Charles Lindbergh, wrote the children’s book, “Nobody Owns the Sky: The Story of ‘Brave Bessie’.”
Lindbergh, first learned about Bessie Coleman in 1986, the 60th anniversary of her father’s famous flight. “Bessie was an incredibly brave person who was hardly noticed, while my parents got so much publicity it was difficult for them to live their normal lives. I saw a crazy imbalance and wanted to try to set things right.”
People said she was crazy; it wouldn’t be right.

“You’re a girl, not a man, and you’re not even white!”

But did she stop dreaming? Not quite!
Sweet Blackberry was founded by actor/writer, Karyn Parsons (The Fresh Prince of Bel Air). As a new mom, Parsons was motivated by a strong desire to instill a sense of culture and heritage to her daughter. Inspired by her own mother and upbringing, Parsons created Sweet Blackberry—delivering to all children, stories that need to be told and heard.
http://sweetblackberry.org/about/
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Return To Glory's Black History Links

http://www.returntoglory.org/document.htm
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The 1st letter that celebrated Black History Month

Carter G. Woodson's original Negro History Week Letter

Carter G. Woodson (born 1875). Convinced that the history of African-Americans was being ignored and misrepresented, took steps to put things right. In 1915 Woodson founded the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History, now the Association for the Study of African American Life and History (ASALH). The association was created to promote and preserve African-American history and culture. He founded the Journal of Negro History in 1916. Here is the letter than began Negro History Week which became Black History Month.
  • Launched Negro History Week in 1926, chosen in the second week of February between the birthdays of Frederick Douglass and Abraham Lincoln, which evolved into Black History Month in 1976
  • Is a member of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity, Inc.
  • Known for writing the contributions of black Americans into the national spotlight, received a Ph.D at Harvard University
  • Founded the Association for the Study of Afro-American Life and History in 1915, founded the Journal of Negro History in 1916
  • Author of the book, "The Miseducation of the Negro", published in 1933
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Thursday, February 2, 2012

Turning Black History into Black Reality

Turning Black History
into Black Reality

Rodney D. Coates*
coatesrd@muohio.edu

Over the past few days the net has been flooded with the rediscovery of a letter written by a former slave, Jourdan Anderson, to his former master. It seems that the now emancipated Anderson was being asked to return to work as a slave. Jourdan’s response, filled with both angst and frustrations, was nevertheless filled with grace and power. As I read that letter, I was both humbled and empowered. Here was a man who had not only endured but survived and overcame one of the most brutal of American institutions –slavery. But, rather than being broken Mr. Anderson was emboldened, rather than being scared he was strategic, and rather than becoming bitter he became better. Jourdan Anderson was a man who deeply reflected upon the pain of slavery, but did not become consumed with it. He did not spend his time either worrying about his former master or it seems with revenge. As a consequence, while Jordan might have been victimized by slavery, he was not a victim of it. No, he adapted, grew, and finally escaped the cruelest of human situations and he did it and remained sane, whole, and determined. As I think of Black History Month, it is the Jourdan Anderson’s that bring me both joy but also inspiration. And it is this type of celebration that allows us to turn Black History into Black Reality.
http://blackimprovement.blogspot.com/2012/01/letter-to-my-old-master-jourdan.html

For all too long, many have taken this celebration as a static, almost dismal period where the staid past is regurgitated, remonstrated, and remembered. But such celebrations rarely lead to any progressive challenges, positive affirmations, or potent rediscoveries. The problem is not the celebration, but the substance of our attention. History, if it is to be of any use, must be more than informative but transformative. It must be more then reflexive but critically reflective. For it is only through a critically reflective dialogue with the past, can we design effective solutions for the present. The past, offering a blueprint of survival and achievement, provides pathways for success and excellence in the world we now live in today. Therefore, it is with joy and anticipation that I read the letter of Jourdan Anderson, as well as Harriet Jacobs “Incidents in the life of an Slave Girl”. Again Jacobs, as was the case with Anderson, does not spend time bemoaning her plight as a slave but articulating her struggle to free her daughters yet enslaved. Harriet Jacobs life was spent preaching the gospel of freedom, love of family and success. In later life, she became one of America’s first champions for a livable wage but unfortunately the value of black labor then, was undervalued, and underappreciated. Her response was not, however to accept this situation but to decry it by declaring ““Don’t believe the stories so often repeated that the negroes are not willing to work. They are generally more than willing to work, if they can get anything for it,”
From entrepreneurs –such as Madame C.J. Walker – to inventors –such as Benjamin Banneker, from actors to activist, from rock stars to astronauts –black genius, ingenuity, and determination has forged a path that has not only made history but has made America what it is today. So rather than dwell on these accomplishments as static, historical oddities –I shall explore them as clues into the mystery of life, as answers to unanswered questions, and as indicators of the possibilities of a new black reality.

*Note: Rodney D. Coates is professor of sociology and gerontology at Miami Unviersity. He can be reached at coatesrd@muohio.edu

Rodney D. Coates* born in East St. Louis, Ill., received his B.A. from Southern Illinois University, a M.A. in sociology and anthropology from the University of Illinois, a second M.A. and Ph.D. in sociology from the University of Chicago. He holds the rank of professor in the Department of Sociology and Gerontology, for 15 years Directed the Black World Studies Program at Miami University. Dr. Coates specializes in the study of race and ethnic relations, inequality, critical race theory, and social justice. Coates serves on the editorial boards of the American Sociological Review; Social Forces; and Race, Class and Gender. He is also on the executive boards of the Southern Sociological Society and Sociologists without Borders. Dr. Coates is the immediate past chair of the Section of Race and Ethnic Minorities of the American Sociological Association, and has served in similar capacities for the Southern Sociological Society. He has published dozens of articles; several edited books, and frequently writes on issues of race and ethnicity, education and public policy, civil rights and social justice. His 2004 edited book Race and Ethnicity: Across time, space and discipline won the Choice award from the American Library Association. This past summer Coates received the Joseph Himes Career Award in Scholarship and Activism from the Association of Black Sociologists. He is currently finalizing an edited volume on /Covert Racism/ for Oxford University Press.


http://redroom.com/member/rodney-d-coates
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Tuesday, January 31, 2012

A letter "To My Old Master" - Jourdan Anderson August 07 1865

To My Old Master
In August of 1865, a Colonel P.H. Anderson of Big Spring, Tennessee, wrote to his former slave, Jourdan Anderson, and requested that he come back to work on his farm. Jourdan — who, since being emancipated, had moved to Ohio, found paid work, and was now supporting his family — responded spectacularly by way of the letter seen below (a letter which, according to newspapers at the time, he dictated).
(Source: The Freedmen's Book;
Image: A group of escaped slaves in Virginia in 1862, courtesy of the Library of Congress.)

Dayton, Ohio,
August 7, 1865
To My Old Master,
Colonel P.H. Anderson,
Big Spring, Tennessee
Sir: I got your letter, and was glad to find that you had not forgotten Jourdon, and that you wanted me to come back and live with you again, promising to do better for me than anybody else can. I have often felt uneasy about you. I thought the Yankees would have hung you long before this, for harboring Rebs they found at your house. I suppose they never heard about your going to Colonel Martin's to kill the Union soldier that was left by his company in their stable. Although you shot at me twice before I left you, I did not want to hear of your being hurt, and am glad you are still living. It would do me good to go back to the dear old home again, and see Miss Mary and Miss Martha and Allen, Esther, Green, and Lee. Give my love to them all, and tell them I hope we will meet in the better world, if not in this. I would have gone back to see you all when I was working in the Nashville Hospital, but one of the neighbors told me that Henry intended to shoot me if he ever got a chance.
I want to know particularly what the good chance is you propose to give me. I am doing tolerably well here. I get twenty-five dollars a month, with victuals and clothing; have a comfortable home for Mandy,—the folks call her Mrs. Anderson,—and the children—Milly, Jane, and Grundy—go to school and are learning well. The teacher says Grundy has a head for a preacher. They go to Sunday school, and Mandy and me attend church regularly. We are kindly treated. Sometimes we overhear others saying, "Them colored people were slaves" down in Tennessee. The children feel hurt when they hear such remarks; but I tell them it was no disgrace in Tennessee to belong to Colonel Anderson. Many darkeys would have been proud, as I used to be, to call you master. Now if you will write and say what wages you will give me, I will be better able to decide whether it would be to my advantage to move back again.
As to my freedom, which you say I can have, there is nothing to be gained on that score, as I got my free papers in 1864 from the Provost-Marshal-General of the Department of Nashville. Mandy says she would be afraid to go back without some proof that you were disposed to treat us justly and kindly; and we have concluded to test your sincerity by asking you to send us our wages for the time we served you. This will make us forget and forgive old scores, and rely on your justice and friendship in the future. I served you faithfully for thirty-two years, and Mandy twenty years. At twenty-five dollars a month for me, and two dollars a week for Mandy, our earnings would amount to eleven thousand six hundred and eighty dollars. Add to this the interest for the time our wages have been kept back, and deduct what you paid for our clothing, and three doctor's visits to me, and pulling a tooth for Mandy, and the balance will show what we are in justice entitled to. Please send the money by Adams's Express, in care of V. Winters, Esq., Dayton, Ohio. If you fail to pay us for faithful labors in the past, we can have little faith in your promises in the future. We trust the good Maker has opened your eyes to the wrongs which you and your fathers have done to me and my fathers, in making us toil for you for generations without recompense. Here I draw my wages every Saturday night; but in Tennessee there was never any pay-day for the negroes any more than for the horses and cows. Surely there will be a day of reckoning for those who defraud the laborer of his hire.
In answering this letter, please state if there would be any safety for my Milly and Jane, who are now grown up, and both good-looking girls. You know how it was with poor Matilda and Catherine. I would rather stay here and starve—and die, if it come to that—than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored children in your neighborhood. The great desire of my life now is to give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.
Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you when you were shooting at me.

From your old servant,

Jourdon Anderson.
 
http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38479/38479-h/38479-h.htm#Page_265
 
http://www.lettersofnote.com/2012/01/to-my-old-master.html 
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Monday, January 30, 2012

PeterPanPYT/Michael Jackson Wink Wink Nod Nod



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Monday, January 23, 2012

Michael Jacksons-Real or Fake?



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Friday, January 13, 2012

Perla -Tom Fox

Perla -Tom Fox

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Monday, January 9, 2012

A Michael Jackson ComeBack Date?



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Tuesday, December 27, 2011

I define myself, we define ourselves.

Habari Gani,


It's my 41st celebration of Kwanzaa. My parents began celebrating our celebration in their church in 1970 in Brooklyn New York. As a child I knew nothing different. We celebrated with some Jewish friends during Channukah, we celebrated the birth of The Christ on December 25th and my father, Rev. Dr. Samuel Varner schooled' me early on that this was the day that most Christians celebrated his birth as it was set by early church leaders, but not the actual date of The Christ's birth. We looked at it as we did with our birthdays, while the date of birth may occur on a Thursday, we would celebrate it on Saturday. Then on December 26th we began celebrating the African aspect of the Americas. On New Years eve we had a Night Watch service to bring in the New Year worshiping before we went partying.


While in grade school I learned that Kwanzaa was a very niche celebration and I never expected all people of African descent to celebrate it. It was very underground. I truly enjoyed the festivities and congregagtion as we celebrated in New York and also in Columbus Ohio where the community was very vibrant in it's celebration. My dad and mom were frequently interviewed and I remember a number of debates over the celebration. While in Columbus my parents invited Maluna Ron Karenga to our racially mixed church and he spoke of Kwanzaa and the other activities the US organization was involved in. While he noted that Kwanzaa wasn't associated with any particular belief system, he reveled in meeting numerous Pastors who began adding elements of the celebration into their winter church activities. I fondly remember a public debate set-up by a major Black church in Columbus Ohio which pitted my father against the church's pastor on the topic "Should a Christian celebrate Kwanzaa ?" The moderator opened with "Kwanzaa or Christmas Dr. Varner ?" My father replied "Both. The more important celebration is one's personal walk and relationship with our Savior. That's something to celebrate. Then as you celebrate other great things in your life such as the 4th of July, your birthday, or a graduation add Jesus to your invitation list. It will make the celebration sweeter." He then gave a history lesson on Christmas and how the early Christian church debated and even outlawed the celebration at times. He ended by saying "I'm proud of my African heritage and I celebrate that, and I of course invite my Lord and Savior into all of my celebrations." The debating pastor then took the mike and said "Well then. It looks like there isn't anything to debate. Praise the Lord Church." We then went early into the social hall and fellowshipped together.


We never really discussed with my classmates our celebration of Kwanzaa. It was a special event that was shared amongst the like-minded. I revel in the performances of Tony West and Imani Dancers in the late 70s and early 80s. We gathered, we interacted, we broke bread, and then we partied. I persoanally loved meeting and flirting with the girls and listening to the DJs play this new Rap music along side Disco, Soul, and Oldies. There were no fights, no problems, and lots of supervising eyes.


In College in the late 80s I shared with anyone I saw who seemed to be a celebrant that I too celebrated, yet remained silent to anyone else. I learned that anyone who seemed to publically embrace Kwanzaa or seemed interested in other African centered information was labeled as a radical, a White-hater, and UnAmerican. I always found it interesting that my ancestry which included Irish, Indian, and African had all received difficulty in their interactions in America. To wear a badege that said "Kiss Me...I'm Irish" was cool, but to wear a badge which displayed the Red, Black, and Green colors would bring difficulty and discomfort.


In the 1990s I then began encountering people who demeaned the celebration by making sure I knew that "Karenga was a racist, a communist lover, was anti-American, and was abusive towards women." To them any association with Kwanzaa was foolish and perhaps even anti-Christian. The interesting aspect of these conversations was that they were normally initiated by other Blacks or people of African descent. Here in Hampton Roads Virginia things were even different in the Kwanzaa attendants. In Columbus Black Americans, Caribbean and Hispanic Blacks, and Blacks from Africa all came together for these celebrations. In Hampton Roads only a few native Africans participated, and the Caribbean/Latino community seemed unintrested at best.








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