“There was something so valuable about what happened when one became a mother. For me it was the most liberating thing that ever happened to me. Liberating because the demands that children make are not the demands of a normal ‘other.’ The children’s demands on me were things that nobody ever asked me to do. To be a good manager. To have a sense of humor. To deliver something that somebody could use. And they were not interested in all the things that other people were interested in, like what I was wearing or if I were sensual. Somehow all of the baggage that I had accumulated as a person about what was valuable just fell away. I could not only be me—whatever that was—but somebody actually needed me to be that. If you listen to [your children], somehow you are able to free yourself from baggage and vanity and all sorts of things, and deliver a better self, one that you like. The person that was in me that I liked best was the one my children seemed to want.”–Toni Morrison and Motherhood: A Politics of the Heart
Just yesterday I stood for a few minutes at the top of the stairs leading to a white doctor s office in a white neighborhood. I watched one Black woman after another trudge to the corner, where she then waited to catch the bus home. These were Black women still cleaning somebody else’s house or Black women still caring for somebody else’s sick or elderly, before they came back to the frequently thankless chores of their own loneliness, their own families. And I felt angry and I felt ashamed. And I felt, once again, the kindling heat of my hope that we, the daughters of these Black women, will honor their sacrifice by giving them thanks. We will undertake, with pride, every transcendent dream of freedom made possible by the humility of their love. June Jordan, On Call, 1985
Last year, TIME magazine dropped the ball with their Person of the Year cover. The issue was dedicated to women speaking out against sexual harassment/abuse…courtsey of the #MeToo movement. Instead of specifically featuring Tarana Burke (originator of #MeToo), white women celebrities cluttered the cover.
However, I was more excited when I saw Burke gracing the pages of HANNAH Magazine. HANNAH is a fairly new publication. The first issue was released in 2016.
“HANNAH is an unapologetic celebration of and safe space for Black women in the form of a growing community, a biannual custom publication, and an online presence. HANNAH is a place where we are not asked nor demanded to justify our existence, presence, or humanity. It is, rather, a space where we can simply BE.” http://hannahmag.com/
HANNAH Magazine wanted to pay homage to Burke after the TIME slight.
I eagerly ordered the issue, but thought it would be more fun to give this fabulous magazine to someone.
So, if you are a Black woman/Non Binary person…this particular giveaway is for you! I want the magazine to go to the population it’s intended for. This will be a first come, first served treat. There’s a catch (of course!) If you are the recipient of this gift, you have to tell me your thoughts about the magazine. It can be via video/short essay/poetry etc., however you like to express yourself. Your review will be posted on the blog.
Entries can be sent to firstname.lastname@example.org. Please put HANNAH Magazine Giveaway in the subject line.
As April comes to a close, it means the final days of Sexual Assault Awareness Month. Of course, resisting sexual violence is a year-long concern for women’s organizations. However, it is important there is one month dedicated to examining the pervasiveness of rape culture in this country.
I’d been avoiding it because the subject matter was too much to bear. The Rape of Recy Taylor was released in fall of last year. The film details the horrific rape of Taylor, at the time, a 24-year-old married mother/sharecropper. Taylor was walking home from church one evening, when she was forced by gun point into a car with seven white men. She was brutally raped for over five hours.
The story of Ms. Taylor is unique, in that, she was willing to name her assailants. It was rare for Black women to do this in the Jim Crow South. The assault on Taylor, caught the attention of Rose Parks. Parks, was a sexual investigatorwith the NAACP, before she became known as ROSA PARKS.
In the film, Recy’s siblings shared when Parks came to the house to speak with Taylor. The news quickly spread around town about an “outside agitator.” The sheriff drove by the house to intimidate Parks. At one point, he barged into the family’s home and physically tossed Parks off the porch. Parks went away for a few weeks, then came back. She would not be dissuaded.
Eventually, Taylor’s rapists were arrested (it wasn’t too hard to find them, they lounged around town confident in their whiteness). Despite the determination of Taylor and Parks (co-founders of The Committee for Equal Justice), two grand juries failed to charge the men. Unfortunately, gang rapes of Black women were not uncommon in the south, so it wasn’t long before Parks moved on to other cases. This left Taylor and her family to deal with the aftermath of her speaking up.
Life was never the same for Taylor after her rape. I am haunted by the black and white photo that tends to pop up, when researching her case. She is standing stoic. Clothes slightly disheveled. The sadness spread across her face. There are other photos which include her husband and child. She seems distant from them, wrapped up in her own pain. The rape tore apart her family.
Taylor and her husband separated. Amazingly, Taylor stayed in her town, despite all that happened to her. She moved in with her father and went on to live a quiet life. Years later, her daughter was killed in a car accident. Taylor was never able to have more children. As her sister stated in the film, the rapists had “played up in her body.” I can only imagine the violence perpetuated against Taylor’s body for over five hours.
The most startling revelation that came out of the documentary, is when relatives of the rapists, were interviewed. All the men are deceased. I believe one of the men was already in the military, when the rape took place. Later, some of the other men also joined the military. I was alarmed as the camera panned the burial sites of the men. The words “hero,” “courageous,” and “brave” were etched on the headstones. The American flag was displayed proudly on the graves.
I was disturbed by the family members boasting about the rapists military accomplishments. I couldn’t help but think about the controversy of NFL players refusing to stand for the flag. A protest started by Colin Kaepernick in 2016. The argument made by those pro-flag, is that it’s honoring veterans/those in the military. The story of Taylor, made me realize that the uplifting of this flag, means we are praising white men who terrorized Black women. It has cemented for me why Black people should not stand for the flag. The American flag represents the history of sexual violence perpetuated against Black women. It was condoned and awarded with medals.
Taylor went on to live until age 97. Long past, her rapists. She never received justice for the suffering she endured from her sexual assault, so I’m sure those years lived were with some unease. In 2011, the Alabama Legislature issued her an apology. Of course, way too little and much too late, but at least Ms. Taylor was alive to receive it.
“My hometown has been in a water crisis since April, 24th 2014. Yes, for 4 years. Thousands of kids and adults were exposed to lead and other toxic chemicals in our water. When word of the crisis first broke we had media from all around the world shining a spotlight on Flint. But now, the cameras are gone and this crisis is far from being over with. To mark the 4 year mark of the Flint Water Crisis I am hoping to sell as many of these shirts for people to wear on April 24th to bring attention back onto Flint. Four Years Forgotten.” https://www.bonfire.com/4-years-forgotten/
When I think about the 2017 Women’s March, I don’t reflect on white women wearing pink pussy hats. I think about a picture I saw of three Black women standing by themselves. They were holding signs that read “DON’T FORGET FLINT.”
I was happy to support this fundraiser. It looks like Copeny and company have restarted it, so don’t miss your opportunity to get a shirt!
As wacky as it sounds, I haven’t had a chance to see Black Panther yet. Unfortunately, I came down with a terrible cold, this past week. Then, my city became engulfed in snow. It seems like a conspiracy to keep me from seeing the movie! I’ll get there someday 🙂 However, it’s been wonderful reading all the critiques of the film (I don’t mind spoilers, I’m the type to read the end of a mystery novel…first).
What’s been amusing about the release of the film…is folks response to it. There’s been white folks hostility towards “Black Panther,” since it was announced last year. The fake outrage of “reverse racism” due to an all Black cast. Nevermind the fact, Black folks have no qualms watching the ton of white superhero films that flood the theaters every summer (all those damn Spiderman and Batman roboots). There’s even been Black criticism. Some Black folks thinks it undermines Black empowerment, think Black superheros are silly, etc.
I don’t think Black folks think a movie is going to save us. Black folks, just like other communities, have subcultures. There are Black nerds/Black cosplay folks, who love comics. There are Black parents (like myself) who see it as fun event for their children. There are some Black folks using this as an opportunity to broaden the issues of Black activism/politics. As with anything, it’s what you make of it.
There’s actually been some great things to come from this film…whether if it’s flawed or not. The call for a syllabus resource submissions (due this Friday!), as well as a Wakanda Curriculum created for secondary students. If nothing else, “Black Panther” definitely made an impact in 2018.
“All that you touch, You Change. All that you Change, Changes You. The only lasting truth is Change.”–Octavia Butler
It’s Black History/Future Month. A time to reflect on the past contributions of Black Americans, as well as the visions/creativity/activism of the next generation.
The purpose of my group (PDX Black Feminism) is to honor the barriers broken by Black women/Non-Binary people. We provide a space to talk about issues affecting us in/outside of our city. It’s also an opportunity to explore the Afrofuturism tools of resisting oppression.
Please support our work this month. The funding helps rent space for meetings, provide refreshments, and self-care needs. In celebration of Black History/Future Month, we will be hosting a showing of “Unbought and Unbossed.” The film explores Shirley Chisholm’s run for presidency, a Black politician trailblazer.