excerpt from A SALUTE TO HISTORIC BLACK WOMEN, An Empak "Black History" Publication Series
Mary Jane McLeod Bethune has left her mark indelibly printed upon the walls of time as an outstanding educator, a giant of race relations, advisor to U. S Presidents, and the first Black woman in the United States to establish a school that became a four-year accredited college. She was born to slave parents, Sam and Patsy McLeod, in Mayesville, South Carolina in 1875. Of 17 children, only she was born in this side of slavery. She was a pilar of strength with perpetual drive and force. By courage, faith and perserverence, she was able to elevate herself to a respected position.....It was not until she reached age 11 that a school opened some five miles from her home, and she walked the distance daily. After graduation she was awarded a small scholarship by a White woman in Denver, Colorado who wanted to help one Black child attain more education...
In 1904, with the ever-present desire to educate others and $1.50, she founded a school for girls in Daytona Beach, Florida. Her student body consisted of her four year old son, and five little girls who each paid 50 cents a week tuition. Her school began in an old house near the city dump. Through difficulties too numerous to mention, the school slowly grew. The student body grew from an enrollment of five little girls to a co-ed institution which became Bethune College. By 1923 , when Bethune College merged with Cookman Institute, she had a student body of six hundred, 32 faculty members and an $800,000 campus free of debt.
Primarily an educator, Mrs. Bethune became involved in government affairs. In 1930, President Herbert Hoover appointed her to the White House Conference on Child Health. Several years later, President Franklin D. Roosevelt appointed her a director of Negro Affairs in the National Youth Administration and as his special advisor on minority affairs. She also served as a member of the "Black Cabinet". In 1945, she was a special emmissary of the State Department of the United Nations Conference. In 1952, she was the personal representative of President Harry S. Truman at LIberia's inauguration ceremonies....
Mrs. Bethune left a legacy to her people, that her philosophy of living and serving would be inspirational to those who share her vision of a world peace.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
THE MOST VITAL AND CHALLENGING ISSUE
excerpts from ADVENT OF DIVINE JUSTICE, by Shoghi Effendi Rabbani and my own COLORS OF MY WORLD
In the early 1980s my enthusiasm for oneness continually heightened but I began to see and feel slowness and resistance in some toward filling in the gaps, empathizing with the pains, supporting the daily struggles in the work place and social activities. There is a powerful trend toward "everything is alright - just go forward". I began to feel a restless urgency to say, "we need a foundation of historical and personal knowledge of the struggles endured and which are still pervasive - to be as supportive and loving as the most vital and chllenging issue requires."
I asked a member of the National Education Committee of the Baha'is of the UNited States for suggestions on how I could increase my growth and effectiveness in service to oneness. Her suggestion was to learn the quote in ADVENT OF DIVINE JUSTICE by the Guardian of the Faith Shoghi Effendi Rabbani to such an extent that it became a part of my inner reality. This section in the book is about 4 pages long but so meaningful.
"As to racial prejudice, the corrosion of which, for well nigh a century, has bitten into the fiber, and attacked the whole social structure of American society, it should be regarded as constituting the most vital and challenging issue confronting the Baha'i community." (not just Baha'is but all who believe in unity)
The "ceaseless efforts required" became a committment for the rest of my life. His instructions are so specific, for both the white and black, young and old, high and low, that there is no reason we cannot, if we but endeavor, eradicate this problem from our hearts, our comunities and our land. The words resonated in my soul, my thoughts and my dreams.
Love in the struggle,
Anne
In the early 1980s my enthusiasm for oneness continually heightened but I began to see and feel slowness and resistance in some toward filling in the gaps, empathizing with the pains, supporting the daily struggles in the work place and social activities. There is a powerful trend toward "everything is alright - just go forward". I began to feel a restless urgency to say, "we need a foundation of historical and personal knowledge of the struggles endured and which are still pervasive - to be as supportive and loving as the most vital and chllenging issue requires."
I asked a member of the National Education Committee of the Baha'is of the UNited States for suggestions on how I could increase my growth and effectiveness in service to oneness. Her suggestion was to learn the quote in ADVENT OF DIVINE JUSTICE by the Guardian of the Faith Shoghi Effendi Rabbani to such an extent that it became a part of my inner reality. This section in the book is about 4 pages long but so meaningful.
"As to racial prejudice, the corrosion of which, for well nigh a century, has bitten into the fiber, and attacked the whole social structure of American society, it should be regarded as constituting the most vital and challenging issue confronting the Baha'i community." (not just Baha'is but all who believe in unity)
The "ceaseless efforts required" became a committment for the rest of my life. His instructions are so specific, for both the white and black, young and old, high and low, that there is no reason we cannot, if we but endeavor, eradicate this problem from our hearts, our comunities and our land. The words resonated in my soul, my thoughts and my dreams.
Love in the struggle,
Anne
Friday, January 14, 2011
CHEROKEE PARADISE
excerpt from A CHEROKEE FEAST OF DAYS, DAILY MEDITATIONS, by Joyce Sequichie Hifler
A woodland path is good medicine for a weary walker. Soft, rolling steps along the path do not interrupt the harmony of the woods. Even the snort of the doe before she bounds away is to tell her fawn to lie low. Many pauses give time to hear and see in detail the call of a busy titmouse and the highpitched whistle of the finch. This is Cherokee paradise - to stand quietly in aged timber and be so much a part of it. Even the tiny creek plays water-harps as it winds its way around clumps of dried leaves and slips over round stones that are a part of its past handiwork. This is a green cathedral with shafts of sunlight cutting through thick foliage to turn droplets of water into prisms of color. Nothing is out of place - not even the walker.
A woodland path is good medicine for a weary walker. Soft, rolling steps along the path do not interrupt the harmony of the woods. Even the snort of the doe before she bounds away is to tell her fawn to lie low. Many pauses give time to hear and see in detail the call of a busy titmouse and the highpitched whistle of the finch. This is Cherokee paradise - to stand quietly in aged timber and be so much a part of it. Even the tiny creek plays water-harps as it winds its way around clumps of dried leaves and slips over round stones that are a part of its past handiwork. This is a green cathedral with shafts of sunlight cutting through thick foliage to turn droplets of water into prisms of color. Nothing is out of place - not even the walker.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
STILL MUCH TO LEARN
excerpt from COLORS OF MY WORLD (see Aug 31, 2010)
When I left Trinidad in the fall of 1970 I realized I had much to learn. Just being comfortable with the variety of hues of the human family did not give me the insights and sensitivities to be able to be free from the old tapes and messages in my head that I had learned as a child nor did I have any knowledge of the difference cultural conditioning would have on friendships and communications. Each of us comes from a family and a community. The values, interests, manners, tastes, music, and foods play a part in how we express ourselves. The ancestral "baggage" each of us has been given which has kept us apart for all these centuries is still in the back recesses of our minds and reactions. The same word or gesture means something different to the various cultures. The apprehensions and expectations of treatment by others is predicated upon the unconscious training and conditioning our parents gave us. To truly relate as a friend on a level of trust and openness we need to learn all these diverse ways of approaching life and to fully accept that the world is okay if it doesn't look or act just like I do.
I began to acquire and read books to "fill in the gaps" - books written by dark-skinned authors, books by civil rights advocates, books by and about Africa and of Native Americans. This time I took the advice of the Guardian of the Baha'i Faith, Shoghi Effendi Rabbani, and used the materials available in our society to help us learn of our world. I started reading anthropology books, one of the most enlightening was Ashley Montague's MAN'S MOST DANGEROUS MYTH; THE FALLACY OF RACE, published in the 1940s.
( a more recent one is Stephen Gould's MISMEASUREMENT OF MAN.)
excerpts from MAN'S MOST DANGEROUS MYTH; THE FALLACY OF RACE -
"...a black skin is undoubtedly a character of adaptive value, for there is some evidence that it enables its possessor to withstand the effects of prolonged exposure to sunlight...
...white skinned peoples have a reduced distribution of pigment in their skin merely because the shift from the birthplace of their ancestors, which there is good reason to believe was Africa south of the Sahara, to the cooler regions of Europe gradually resulted in a decrease in the distribution of pigment in their skin, so that in the course of time, by means of selection of genes for low pigmentary difference, this has become considerably reduced. The pigmentary difference is not one of kind but of degree....
...In hot, humid climates those individuals would be most favored who possessed skin sufficiently dark to prevent heat loss at too rapid a rate, and thus avoid heat exhaustion...For the white skin, less abundantly supplied with sweat galnds than the black, acts as a good insulator against heat and cold...
...Clearly, there can be no question here of either inferiority or superiority. Both Negro and white man have survived because they and their ancestors were possessed of character of adaptive value which, under the respective conditions of ther differing environments, enable them to survive." pp. 95-97
"Whether responsible or not for racism, every American, as an American, must make himself responsible for the elimination of racism, for racism is inhuman, ethically wrong, and constitutionally intolerable." p 347
"Let such a one say to himself, 'I am only one, but I am one, I cannot do everything, but I can do something. What I can do I ought to do, and, by the grace of God, I will." p. 359
When I left Trinidad in the fall of 1970 I realized I had much to learn. Just being comfortable with the variety of hues of the human family did not give me the insights and sensitivities to be able to be free from the old tapes and messages in my head that I had learned as a child nor did I have any knowledge of the difference cultural conditioning would have on friendships and communications. Each of us comes from a family and a community. The values, interests, manners, tastes, music, and foods play a part in how we express ourselves. The ancestral "baggage" each of us has been given which has kept us apart for all these centuries is still in the back recesses of our minds and reactions. The same word or gesture means something different to the various cultures. The apprehensions and expectations of treatment by others is predicated upon the unconscious training and conditioning our parents gave us. To truly relate as a friend on a level of trust and openness we need to learn all these diverse ways of approaching life and to fully accept that the world is okay if it doesn't look or act just like I do.
I began to acquire and read books to "fill in the gaps" - books written by dark-skinned authors, books by civil rights advocates, books by and about Africa and of Native Americans. This time I took the advice of the Guardian of the Baha'i Faith, Shoghi Effendi Rabbani, and used the materials available in our society to help us learn of our world. I started reading anthropology books, one of the most enlightening was Ashley Montague's MAN'S MOST DANGEROUS MYTH; THE FALLACY OF RACE, published in the 1940s.
( a more recent one is Stephen Gould's MISMEASUREMENT OF MAN.)
excerpts from MAN'S MOST DANGEROUS MYTH; THE FALLACY OF RACE -
"...a black skin is undoubtedly a character of adaptive value, for there is some evidence that it enables its possessor to withstand the effects of prolonged exposure to sunlight...
...white skinned peoples have a reduced distribution of pigment in their skin merely because the shift from the birthplace of their ancestors, which there is good reason to believe was Africa south of the Sahara, to the cooler regions of Europe gradually resulted in a decrease in the distribution of pigment in their skin, so that in the course of time, by means of selection of genes for low pigmentary difference, this has become considerably reduced. The pigmentary difference is not one of kind but of degree....
...In hot, humid climates those individuals would be most favored who possessed skin sufficiently dark to prevent heat loss at too rapid a rate, and thus avoid heat exhaustion...For the white skin, less abundantly supplied with sweat galnds than the black, acts as a good insulator against heat and cold...
...Clearly, there can be no question here of either inferiority or superiority. Both Negro and white man have survived because they and their ancestors were possessed of character of adaptive value which, under the respective conditions of ther differing environments, enable them to survive." pp. 95-97
"Whether responsible or not for racism, every American, as an American, must make himself responsible for the elimination of racism, for racism is inhuman, ethically wrong, and constitutionally intolerable." p 347
"Let such a one say to himself, 'I am only one, but I am one, I cannot do everything, but I can do something. What I can do I ought to do, and, by the grace of God, I will." p. 359
Monday, January 3, 2011
MY DREAM Jan. 1, 2011
I woke up two days ago with the compelling need to share my dream. This is it.
My old boss of thirty years ago who was very cranky and abrupt told me that I must go into the next room and talk to a group of girls who had been abused. I was not to take time to prepare but to go immediately.
I went through the door perplexed and wondering what I could possibly say, opened my mouth and this is what came out---
"Here's what I know. Your soul is the real you and no one can touch that part of yourself if you don't let them. So find that part of yourself and let it grow."
There was immediate smiles and then joy and then kidding around and playing. A few hearty high fives and Yes!
After I woke up I wanted to say - I am a survivor of abuse and I know many others who are. This prayer has lifted me up many times...
"O God, refresh and gladden my spirit. Purify my heart. Illumine my powers. I lay all my affairs in Thy hand. Thou art my Guide and my Refuge. I will no longer be sorrowful and grieved; I will be a happy and joyful being. O God! I will no longer be full of anxiety, nor will I let trouble harass me. I will not dwell on the unpleasant things of life.
O God, Thou art more friend to me than I am to myself. I dedicate myself to Thee, O Lord."
Abdu'l-Baha
My old boss of thirty years ago who was very cranky and abrupt told me that I must go into the next room and talk to a group of girls who had been abused. I was not to take time to prepare but to go immediately.
I went through the door perplexed and wondering what I could possibly say, opened my mouth and this is what came out---
"Here's what I know. Your soul is the real you and no one can touch that part of yourself if you don't let them. So find that part of yourself and let it grow."
There was immediate smiles and then joy and then kidding around and playing. A few hearty high fives and Yes!
After I woke up I wanted to say - I am a survivor of abuse and I know many others who are. This prayer has lifted me up many times...
"O God, refresh and gladden my spirit. Purify my heart. Illumine my powers. I lay all my affairs in Thy hand. Thou art my Guide and my Refuge. I will no longer be sorrowful and grieved; I will be a happy and joyful being. O God! I will no longer be full of anxiety, nor will I let trouble harass me. I will not dwell on the unpleasant things of life.
O God, Thou art more friend to me than I am to myself. I dedicate myself to Thee, O Lord."
Abdu'l-Baha
Thursday, December 30, 2010
GIVEAWAY
excerpt from THE NATIVE AMERICANS, AN ILLUSTRATED HISTORY
"The allies of a chief, whether linked through economics or ritual, made regular visits to exchange gifts and reach consensus on important matters." p. 118
"In the majority of cases a person's status depended not on what he or she possessed but rather on what he or she gave to others. Riches mattered only as a road to generosity. To be rich when others were in need was to be a danger to the group. The accumulation in the hands of ...big men, or chiefs this often formed but a prelude to distribution. The carefully gathered wealth of a Northwest Coast leader disappeared in the lavish potlaches (exchange of gifts) that astonished Europeans....Iroquoia to the Northwest Coast, Indians created social systems that induced people to redistribute wealth and to reap status." p. 238
excerpt from REASON TO BELIEVE, by Kathleen Eagle, p. 376
"Summer is powwow time in Indian country. There's always plenty of food, games and contests, lots of music and dancing, and in the midst of it all there are 'giveaways'. People present gifts as a public show of appreciation, honor, respect. The giver calls a name, the recipient accepts a gift, and a simple handshake is shared."
I remember observing this giveaway custom at many powwows and also at conferences or performances. One of my Lakota friends said that almost half of his income was reserved for "giveaway", whether to friends or those who gave a service. The salary or compensation for the service was not counted as a gift. The gift was from the heart, not the pocketbook.
"The allies of a chief, whether linked through economics or ritual, made regular visits to exchange gifts and reach consensus on important matters." p. 118
"In the majority of cases a person's status depended not on what he or she possessed but rather on what he or she gave to others. Riches mattered only as a road to generosity. To be rich when others were in need was to be a danger to the group. The accumulation in the hands of ...big men, or chiefs this often formed but a prelude to distribution. The carefully gathered wealth of a Northwest Coast leader disappeared in the lavish potlaches (exchange of gifts) that astonished Europeans....Iroquoia to the Northwest Coast, Indians created social systems that induced people to redistribute wealth and to reap status." p. 238
excerpt from REASON TO BELIEVE, by Kathleen Eagle, p. 376
"Summer is powwow time in Indian country. There's always plenty of food, games and contests, lots of music and dancing, and in the midst of it all there are 'giveaways'. People present gifts as a public show of appreciation, honor, respect. The giver calls a name, the recipient accepts a gift, and a simple handshake is shared."
I remember observing this giveaway custom at many powwows and also at conferences or performances. One of my Lakota friends said that almost half of his income was reserved for "giveaway", whether to friends or those who gave a service. The salary or compensation for the service was not counted as a gift. The gift was from the heart, not the pocketbook.
Monday, December 27, 2010
EXPLORING TRINIDAD
excerpt from TRINIDAD REMEMBRANCES (see Aug 31, 2010)
Most days were spent in exploring the area, making friends, and riding the bus into the nearby town. Everything was so green and lush. There were exotic flowers hanging from vines and trees. Orchids grew naturally in some of the inner parts of the island. Monkeys hung from trees and chattered wildly as you went by. I had a banana tree in my back yard. When I saw Zorida (see her story ZORIDA'S DREAM) work so hard every day cooking each meal, I showed her how to make a banana sandwich and then a pimento cheese sandwich. She served them to her husband Beepat and he loved them. He wanted them all the time until he discovered that it only took her five minutes to make them. He made her quit serving them, saying that her work was in the kitchen and it was not right that she had so much free time.
Going into town was very interesting. The streets bustled with people walking here and yon. They wore bright colors and were cheerful and friendly. The stores were mostly specialty stores, one serving meats, another fruits, another vegetables. My favorite food became fried shrimp wonton. It would be served in a heaping platter that would fill up both my son and I. Sometimes we would go to a place that served "devil dogs". In America, the equivalent was corn dogs. That became my son's favorite food. When we ate at a friend's house we were served rice, vegetables and occassionally chicken mixed with the rice. The head and legs of the chicken were really a test for me. I couldn't make myself eat them but I stirred them around so as not to look like I was avoiding them. I probably didn't fool anyone but I didn't want to be impolite.
I felt as though I had been given a gift in my search for oneness. One day I walked past a mirror and was jolted to see this white face. I had become so accustomed to the beautiful faces around me that my own white face seemed strangely pale. I learned down to the core of my being that we are one race. The mothers loved their children just as much as I loved Eddie, the fathers worked and struggled to make a home for the family against odds that would have broken many of those I knew back in the states. The music was very haunting and lovely or dramatic and surging with rhythm, the children were bright and cheerful and their laughter sounds the same all over the world. The yearning for God and a meaning for life is just as powerful no matter the color of the skin.
My money ran out and I had to come back to the states. I must admit I had very mixed feeling though. It took quite some time to adjust to seeing so many white faces. I was very uncomfortable in a community which was predominately white. Where was the rest of my family?
Most days were spent in exploring the area, making friends, and riding the bus into the nearby town. Everything was so green and lush. There were exotic flowers hanging from vines and trees. Orchids grew naturally in some of the inner parts of the island. Monkeys hung from trees and chattered wildly as you went by. I had a banana tree in my back yard. When I saw Zorida (see her story ZORIDA'S DREAM) work so hard every day cooking each meal, I showed her how to make a banana sandwich and then a pimento cheese sandwich. She served them to her husband Beepat and he loved them. He wanted them all the time until he discovered that it only took her five minutes to make them. He made her quit serving them, saying that her work was in the kitchen and it was not right that she had so much free time.
Going into town was very interesting. The streets bustled with people walking here and yon. They wore bright colors and were cheerful and friendly. The stores were mostly specialty stores, one serving meats, another fruits, another vegetables. My favorite food became fried shrimp wonton. It would be served in a heaping platter that would fill up both my son and I. Sometimes we would go to a place that served "devil dogs". In America, the equivalent was corn dogs. That became my son's favorite food. When we ate at a friend's house we were served rice, vegetables and occassionally chicken mixed with the rice. The head and legs of the chicken were really a test for me. I couldn't make myself eat them but I stirred them around so as not to look like I was avoiding them. I probably didn't fool anyone but I didn't want to be impolite.
I felt as though I had been given a gift in my search for oneness. One day I walked past a mirror and was jolted to see this white face. I had become so accustomed to the beautiful faces around me that my own white face seemed strangely pale. I learned down to the core of my being that we are one race. The mothers loved their children just as much as I loved Eddie, the fathers worked and struggled to make a home for the family against odds that would have broken many of those I knew back in the states. The music was very haunting and lovely or dramatic and surging with rhythm, the children were bright and cheerful and their laughter sounds the same all over the world. The yearning for God and a meaning for life is just as powerful no matter the color of the skin.
My money ran out and I had to come back to the states. I must admit I had very mixed feeling though. It took quite some time to adjust to seeing so many white faces. I was very uncomfortable in a community which was predominately white. Where was the rest of my family?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)