Keeping the dream alive

Today is the 60th anniversary of the March on Washington (for Jobs and Freedom). The extraordinary visuals and atmospherics of that hot summer day, now long ago, in the nation’s capital – the warmth emanating from that place and the crowds that filled it, the affirmation to a faith that had sustained, the richness of words and music reaching its crescendo in the “I have a dream” speech delivered by Dr. Martin Luther King (Jr.) before the Lincoln Memorial – are the stuff of which legends are made. In the air was hope rather than despair, a promise of better days. A dream for all ages.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech, delivered on Aug. 28, 1963, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

What remains all these years on? The sonorous tones of Dr. King and Mahalia Jackson, imbued with the words and music according to any Gospel, soar today as then, but humanity without hope is a humanity not fulfilling its promise, and for many peoples, in all corners of the world, that is the reality. On this day to recognize that that reality still applies to many Black people living in the most powerful nation on the earth can fill one only with anger – and it especially must do so for just those people; for they the descendants in spirit of the multitudes who would have left Washington that day sixty years ago infused with Dr. King’s dreams, his lyrical words ringing in their ears. It is the legacy of each generation to embrace the spirit of that day and, in each, in their own way keep those dreams alive.

That, a lesson in positivity, now …

The year after the march, the Civil Rights Act (1964) was signed into law, but in 1967 Martin Luther King, Jr.’s dreams seemed as far from fulfillment as ever, impelling him to deliver the below embedded speech at Stanford University – sometimes titled “The Other America”. Startling, to me, is the extent to which King’s disillusionment has grown in the passing of so few years. No longer does he feel convinced that alone the good will and essential kindness of many will win over the day, rather that the few (or just as many) are embedded so deep in the power structures and institutions of the nation that a more radical approach is demanded. Eloquently he deconstructs the so-called “white backlash”; as if it describes some kind of reasonable reaction to the realignment of society brought about by civil rights and the accompanying activism (and militantism) when it was, in fact, a response triggered by inherent racial animosity.

Martin Luther King, Jr. at Stanford University on April 14, 1967

“I Have a Dream” is beautiful. Tragically, “The Other America” is closer to the reality. A year later on April 4, 1968, Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated in Memphis, Tennessee.

On June 19th in 1865

…and now every year

The way to recognition of Juneteenth has been long and sometimes contentious, but then such are the highways and byways of the Lone Star State and the routes leading out, but yesterday the US Congress passed a bill to make June 19th – “Juneteenth” – the United States’ eleventh federal holiday.

Until last year I had only heard vaguely of this particular day, or of its origins – and I defy many outside of the US to even pretend otherwise! And, I now read that there are an awful lot of Americans equally as ignorant. It seems, over some years now, many of the States have adopted a variety of “Emancipation” or “freedom” days that relate to their specific history, and so there is some reason to question, as Kaitlyn Greenidge does in her guest piece at the NYT, the sincerity of a unison national embrace around an event that honors the implementation of the Emancipation proclamation (of Jan 1st 1863) in Texas (two and a half years after the fact!). Kevin Young, in his essay, shares some of her misgivings but is more hopeful that Juneteenth will maintain its celebratory characteristics but evolve from being a mainly Black day of festivity into a shared national experience. Yes, to be hoped; after all, freedom now, as then, requires two committed parties: one in need of being freed and another willing to free, and an awareness that freedom is not unconditional but being permanently tested and renegotiated.

The bill as introduced to the 117th Congress.

Irrespective, today, President Biden will sign the bill into law, and another small but important step is taken by the United States on a path towards a new culture of collective memory. That can’t be a bad thing, and reason enough to celebrate.

As a matter of interest, in terms of legislation, the Congressional Research Service arm of the Library of Congress is one of the providers of information to members and committees to assist in their decision-making process – which didn’t deter fourteen (all Republicans) from dissenting on the Juneteenth legislation. The relevant so-called “Fact Sheet” is available here at the CRS, or may be directly downloaded below.

Juneteenth: Fact Sheet Congressional Research Service Download

Generally, these Fact Sheets offer some very accessible insight into even complex material (of which this example is actually not one), and a place to go when the media gobbledygook gets too, well… convoluted …or worse, suspiciously too well spun!

Tulsa, Oklahoma.

While writing last year about Brit Bennett’s The Vanishing Half, and the fictional childhood town of her protagonists, with its “coloured” populace peculiarly intent on becoming about as fair-skinned as they could; I diverged to mention the town of Eatonville near Orlando in Florida – one of the first all-black municipalities to be founded after Reconstruction – which was lived in and then “fictionalised” by Zora Neale Hurston. I didn’t investigate any further into where other such communities may have evolved and what their fate may have been. This week, though, I have learnt about one such other. Ended well did it not.

From May 31st into this June 1st day in 1921, a white mob descended on the prosperous Black community of Greenwood in Tulsa, Oklahoma, murdering hundreds of residents and destroying more than a thousand homes. One hundred years late(r), a US President will visit a place, revisit an abominable event that has found no place in history books or civics classes, and pay respects, homage … and probably not much else. The careful dance around reparations, in this case as in others, and generally, will continue.

What can be said, though, is that remembrance of this event has come at a time when ignorance can no longer be an excuse – not for governments, nor institutions and not for the public. The tragedy of Greenwood is out there for all to come to terms with. It is telling, I think, that it is another glaring omission both in the national historical narrative and, it follows, from many – or most – of the school history curricula in the United States. (If you don’t believe me or the mainstream media on this, Tom Hanks has his say. A rare high spot in the new genre of “celebrity woke essay”!) And it is a tribute to the tenacity and courage of those who have kept the memory alive, who have fought for recognition and justice.

In The New York Times; an excellent photographic and multi-media essay that juxtaposes the flourishing community that was, pulsing with human endeavour and industry, against the decimated remains after the rampage. And this NYT Magazine piece by Caleb Gayle (Black and from Tulsa) about the contemporary legacy of a trauma and a history too long wrapped in silence and rarely admitted to is a good read.

Oh Lord, kum ba ya

It was only last year on seeing an episode of Padma Lakshmi’s Taste the Nation, that I connected the Gullah Geeshee and their cultural heritage with the Sea Islands and their significance to the history of slavery, the Civil War and Emancipation, that I had concurrently been studying. A travelogue piece in the NYT from the previous year interested me further, with its depiction of the region and how it is being endangered by tourism and environmental changes – and ignorance.

Then, on reading this, I was surprised to realise the Gullah Geeshee had touched me, and unbeknownst to me, as a young school girl – a lifetime away and thousands upon thousands of kilometres as birds fly and fish swim. I see before me an orange songbook and there it is: Kumbayah! Do I also remember a “negro spiritual” citation? I think so, but not much more – certainly nothing of its specific origins nor even that it meant “come by here”. What I do remember, is that my class sang it as a round at a regional eisteddfod – I do declare if we didn’t win!

H. Wylie, a Gullah Geechee man, singing “Come By Here” in 1926. It is the first known recording of “Kumbaya.” [ Gordon, Robert Winslow, and H Wylie. Come by Here. Audio. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/ihas.200197143/>.]

My imagination may stretch as far as the Georgia, South Carolina shores, but the reality of my life is elsewhere so here is another version. I can’t even tell you how famous The Seekers were in my childhood, and may well explain the song’s popularity in Australia.

The Seekers 25th Anniversary Reunion Concert Melbourne 1993

Wherever and for whomever – a song of invitation, and an opening of home and heart. Belatedly, but I am glad to have learnt – and by chance – the roots of Kumbaya and little bit about the Gullah Geeshee.

The American Civil War & Reconstruction

The Battle of Antietam, by Kurz & Allison (1878), depicting the scene of action at Burnside's Bridge

Over the last year or so I have been diligently, albeit intermittently, following through with a series of edX courses on the American Civil War and the years of Reconstruction in its aftermath; the consequences of which resound to this day.

Delivered by Columbia University and Prof. Eric Foner; a lengthy but incredibly enlightening intellectual pursuit that I can highly recommended to anyone interested in this defining period of US history – I only realise now how very much that is so (not to mention how ignorant I was!).

The Battle of Antietam 1862, by Kurz & Allison (1878)

My course notes are here on the Downloads page (and also accessible from the main menu).

Rethinking Hamilton

Alexander Hamilton’s pop-culture revival in recent years, with all the negative repercussions accompanying such hype, has also had the positive effect of renewed interest in the historical person (as opposed to the theatrical), and especially in questioning his bona fide credentials as an Abolitionist.

The New York Times reports on a startling piece of new research, in which substantial and previously overlooked evidence is presented that Hamilton was in fact a committed slave owner and, it follows, complicit in the institution as such. It will be for others to decide where this work fits in the bigger picture of Hamilton’s life, and afterlife, but one has to congratulate the young researcher, Jessie Serfilippi, and presumably also the New York State Parks, Recreation & Historical Preservation for their support. One should pause and acknowledge the contributions often made, beyond academia, in the realm of public history. Short, succinct and available here for download.

Beyond Hamilton (or ‘Hamilton’), my own recent inquiries surrounding the Civil War, have certainly made me aware that slavery as it existed in the North was far more insidious than the historical record would sometimes suggest, so I will certainly be returning to say more about this.