My mother is white and my father was black. I am not alone in this. I grew up in the Bronx, New York City. Born in 1967. A relatively safe time and place for a brown girl of ambiguous ethnicity. As the mother of two little brown girls, I like to believe that race doesn't matter much. But the election of Barack Obama woke me up. Ignorance is everywhere. Race labels ring in my ears. They stick and they stain. Even when they fade. This is my rant, from “post-racial America”. Hoping to shed some light.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

James Baldwin Speaks

I'm reading the collection, James Baldwin - The Cross of Redemption (uncollected writings). It includes essays, speeches, profiles, reviews and letters from the 1940's to the '80's. I borrowed it from the library and the 14-day loan is not gonna cut it. This book is on fire. James Baldwin was so unbelievably smart. His novels are beautiful. His essays are spellbinding. I am enthralled.

The speech excerpt below is stuck in my brain; it's from an appearance Baldwin made before a House Select Subcommittee in New York. He spoke in support of a proposed bill to establish a national commission on "Negro History and Culture." He makes several brilliant points. In this snippet, Baldwin  defends his position on how and why the stories of American History, as taught in schools, should be revised in order to break patterns of stereotyping and subjugation of the black population.

The year is 1969:

"If we are going to build a multicultural society, which is our only hope, then one has got to accept that I have learned a lot from you, and a lot of it is bitter, but you have a lot to learn from me, and a lot of that will be bitter. That bitterness is our only hope. That is the only way we get past it. Am I making sense to you?"



Now, the year is 2011:

It's Spring Break. It's raining, both of my kids are fighting colds. I haven't done much writing this week. But I am reading. Always reading. And James Baldwin is keeping me sane from the grave.

Forty-two years of talking about our multicultural society and I'm thinking that we still have a lot to learn about each other. The text books have come a long way since 1969, but I worry that kids still read history like I did when I was ten, like it's long done gone.

Are we learning? Or are we sitting quietly, complacent, hopeful that time alone will melt that bitterness?
I wish folks would stop being coy and delicate about race.
I'm looking for some progress here.

No comments:

Post a Comment