I had a bunch of thoughts that seemed too long for Facebook or Instagram, so here you go.
Preamble:
When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for a celebration to occur I am usually ready; however, this year, I am just not feeling it. I can't get Bianca Roberson the girl in my new state murdered by a white man because he didn't like the way she merged onto the highway out of my head. There are the other deaths and examples of injustice as well. There is this NBC article about Sally Hemings wherein she was called Thomas Jefferson's "mistress." There is my Somalian student who is a native born citizen who is traveling the world; I'm proud of her for going but terrified they might not let her back into the country to start college in the fall.
Here are the other things too long for social media.
1. This interaction:
Through a series of circumstances, I had the privilege to help a Korean War veteran and his wife negotiate her wheelchair. There is no other way than to say that they were both old but she was frail and he had surprising strength - he could lift her out of her wheelchair. We talked about a few things, but the highlights for me were him telling me about meeting Coretta Scott King and his views on President Tr*mp. He also said he has lived under many presidents, but I was delighted when he said, "This current president is the least funny clown show I have ever seen." Even though he didn't have equal rights when he returned from the Korean War, what he talked to me about what was how he felt bad for the Vietnam vets and how is pretty sure we need to try to avoid any more wars because we are all tired of war.
2. This poem:
America
BY CLAUDE MCKAY
Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth,
Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth.
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate,
Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
Yet, as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
And see her might and granite wonders there,
Beneath the touch of Time’s unerring hand,
Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.
3. And this poem
The Song of the Feet
When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for a celebration to occur I am usually ready; however, this year, I am just not feeling it. I can't get Bianca Roberson the girl in my new state murdered by a white man because he didn't like the way she merged onto the highway out of my head. There are the other deaths and examples of injustice as well. There is this NBC article about Sally Hemings wherein she was called Thomas Jefferson's "mistress." There is my Somalian student who is a native born citizen who is traveling the world; I'm proud of her for going but terrified they might not let her back into the country to start college in the fall.
Here are the other things too long for social media.
1. This interaction:
Through a series of circumstances, I had the privilege to help a Korean War veteran and his wife negotiate her wheelchair. There is no other way than to say that they were both old but she was frail and he had surprising strength - he could lift her out of her wheelchair. We talked about a few things, but the highlights for me were him telling me about meeting Coretta Scott King and his views on President Tr*mp. He also said he has lived under many presidents, but I was delighted when he said, "This current president is the least funny clown show I have ever seen." Even though he didn't have equal rights when he returned from the Korean War, what he talked to me about what was how he felt bad for the Vietnam vets and how is pretty sure we need to try to avoid any more wars because we are all tired of war.
2. This poem:
America
BY CLAUDE MCKAY
Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth,
Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth.
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate,
Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
Yet, as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
And see her might and granite wonders there,
Beneath the touch of Time’s unerring hand,
Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.
3. And this poem
The Song of the Feet
BY NIKKI GIOVANNI
It is appropriate that I sing
The song of the feet
The weight of the body
And what the body chooses to bear
Fall on me
I trampled the American wilderness
Forged frontier trails
Outran the mob in Tulsa
Got caught in Philadelphia
And am still unreparated
I soldiered on in Korea
Jungled through Vietnam sweated out Desert Storm
Caved my way through Afghanistan
Tunneled the World Trade Center
And on the worst day of my life
Walked behind JFK
Shouldered MLK
Stood embracing Sister Betty
I wiggle my toes
In the sands of time
Trusting the touch that controls my motion
Basking in the warmth of the embrace
Day’s end offers with warm salty water
It is appropriate I sing
The praise of the feet
I am a Black woman
Maybe if I read these poems a few more times and think about the way the vet didn't seem bitter I'll be able to enjoy a beer in some kind of peace this afternoon.
