Black death in America: Then and Now
Black Death in America: Then and Now
Early
on I was aware that one of my Grandparents was racist. Yes, that is a strong
word but that is what best describes the behavior. They hated all colored
people- unless they had them as servants. However, I also had grandparents on
the other side of the spectrum that even though they lived in a more southern
state they accepted all people as people.
The other grandparent decided that my siblings and I had to go to a
private school, where my raciest grandparent felt that we would be ensured to
be protected from the Black people. I had never met a person of color until I
was in 11th grade, when the 1st Black student was enrolled
in my school. This was a huge event as the parents and grandparents threated
the school that would pull the kids out of the school.
Growing
up I learned about the world through the media. I saw the life and death
struggles play out in living color in my family’s living room. I saw the lunar
landing and watched the Vietnam War play out every night on the 3 TV stations. I saw “People”
dying and being killed. Yet, I saw no one other than people- but that was not
what was seen by my parents. To them Black people was a race that was somehow
more primitive and less human. This was the justification that historically,
the value of a person in the United States is qualified by the color of the
person’s skin. The color of black (or a shade of black) skin has been
considered a lower form of race. The issue of color of skin is still being
argued in the United States even today as demonstrated in the facts Black
communities unrest that is happening around the county today in many
communities. This concept of color is still an evolving subject even today in
the United States.
By definition: Black is a description
of a community or group of individuals that have a common bond that brings them
together. Whereas “black” can be a description of a color. This color may be as
part of a pallet or as described in Holloways’ book the color of a person’s
skin. When I was in grade school we had to read the book Bigger Thomas and as the discussions were led for us we were not told
about how he arrived in this situation but rather that he part of an inferior
race and thus the “poor” family that treated him so well… I agree with Holloway’s
depiction of the trial of the real Bigger Thomas even through is was a jolting
one. I hated the book when I read it. The portrait of the human was that he was
an inferior person; I just couldn’t understand why. Holloway then hit me with
the image of the hung man and the three pairs of feet. This image was created
by Elizabeth Catlett’s who was the first BFA given at University of Iowa.
Holloway writes:
Black death is a cultural haunting, a “re-memory” along the lines of that found
in Toni Morrison’s novel Beloved, which insists that “not a house in the
country ain’t packed to the rafters with some Negro’s grief” (Holloway page 3).
This re-memory and grief was a part of Black life as event though Blacks were
freed with the end of slavery, they were not Free people. Everyday Blacks were “put
in their places” by whites. The laws and expectations for Black behaviors were
slanted to the “ruling” race. Everyday Black read and saw depictions of
themselves in derogatory ways.
As I entered the
working world I saw the discrepancies play out in the nursing profession. I saw
Black individuals with little medical care, little money and as care providers.
I had administration managers that wanted to refuse additional on the grounds
that Medicare or government assistance would not pay for more. Holloway‘s
assessment of the dire care vacuum was alive and well during this time of my
life. Her assessments of the situation were dead on with my firsthand knowledge
of the huge gaps in care.
GRAPHIC IMAGERY
IS INCLUDED BELOW
Jim Crow Laws and propaganda threatened Blacks with harm.
Think only lynching’s and violence against Blacks was in the South- Try Omaha, Nebraska. See the faces and do you see the young boys watching too?
I have a
personal history with Black death and Holloway hit a deep cord when she describes
the sorrow songs. The hymns that are sung at a funeral are deeply rooted in the
Black community’s collective knowledge of the oppression that they have gone
through as a culture. There is no one in the Black community that is not a part
of this collective culture, and as such the sorrow songs have meanings that are
forever embedded with the history of the Black community. I was blessed to have
two godchildren; they were born into a loving family that is inter-racial. At
the time of their births, their parents agonized over the decision to list them
as Black or White on the birth certificates. At this time there were no multi-racial
selections on the official documents in Iowa. Eventually, they moved to a
southern state and both were assigned to schools. The oldest was assigned to
attend classes at a school where young Black men were killed or severely harmed
daily. This was acceptable according to the school system in the 1990s. One day
I received the dreadful call that was that the odds ran out for my oldest “son”.
His brother was to attend the same school in just a few months. I could not
stand the thought that he might be harmed so his parents agreed that he was to
return to Iowa and stay with my husband and myself. After a lot of legal red
tape, we enrolled him in school here. When he came to live with us in Iowa his
parents and my husband and I felt the need to protect the child; we had not
worked so hard to have him killed before he was grown. We all wanted this child
to beat the odds… My godson stayed here in a safe community until the laws
changed that allowed him to attend school at a charter school that was set up
by the Black community for gifted students. He now works with youths that are
at risk to violence and bulling- giving back to his community to prevent more
Black deaths.
So have we as a
human culture accepted others without stipulations?
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