Mama in Black America

On By thewriterfredIn Black Culture, Black History, BlacknessLeave a comment

“I’ll always love my Mama,

She’s my favorite girl.

I’ll always love my Mama,

She brought me in this world.”

 mama

The Intruders probably had no idea when they recorded “I’ll Always Love My Mama” back in 1973, that it would have such a universal outreach over generations and decades. What they were able to express through song, was that “Mama” has been the pillar of the African American family from the first time our ancestors landed on these shores, through slavery, through apartheid and right up to last week when that mother walked on the scene in Baltimore, and chased her son home from the mob. She was doing nothing more than what “Mama” has done for centuries in this country. In fact, there has never been a time or period that the Black mother did not have to worry about her children.

During slavery they worried that their babies would be sold right from under them because, as the slave owners proudly proclaimed, the children were their property and that took precedence over any notion of motherhood. Often these same owners would rape our women and force them to carry to birth, a child conceived through an act of violence. But still these mothers loved their children; a strong indication as to just how special they were as “Mama.”

Post Reconstruction years were also turbulent times for Black mothers. They understood the rules of apartheid; but often, young children did not. Every day and every hour their children went out into the rigid world of white racism, they worried if they would safely return home. Black mothers and, in some instances when fathers were around, assumed an awesome responsibility. They needed, as Ralph Ellison would observe, “to adjust the child to the Southern milieu…to protect him/(her) from those unknown forces within himself/(herself) which might urge (them) to reach out for that social and human equality which the white South says (they) cannot have.” (Ralph Ellison, Shadow and Act, New York 1964).

The responsibility that “Mama” assumed during those terrible years was not only for the safety of her children but also to feed and clothe them, and put a roof over their head. “Mama” did all kinds of jobs to make that happen. She scrubbed floors, washed and ironed clothes, cleaned homes and cooked meals as domestics so that her children could eat. Often “Mama” would have to bring home leftover food for the children.  Writing about his childhood in New Orleans, Louis Armstrong said of his mother: “When Mayann took up domestic labor, she worked for a white family on Canal Street. That job probably gave her ‘toting’ privileges, allowing her to bring food and perhaps clothing home to her children, a common practice in the South.” (Carol Marks and Diana Edkins, The Power and Pride, Stylemakers and Rulebreakers of the Harlem Renaissance, Crown Publishing, New York, 1999)

The plight of “Mama” today, is not quite as drastic as it was during the turbulent years of apartheid. But the struggle continues for these keepers and protectors of the race. The threat of retaliation for perceived poor behavior from a previously racist oriented society has waned, but the threat that young Black boys face everyday from the established law enforcers in their community, still exists. In that light, the struggle continues.

The beautiful Black “Mama” who smacked her son right in front of the entire world that troubled day in Baltimore, expressed generations of frustrations she and her fellow sisters of the race have encountered for much too long. But through it all, one constant remained; “Mama” loves her children. Despite the hardships over the centuries, she stayed steadfast and diligent, dedicated to her family. And for all the pain she has endured; the worry, the fear, and the love, “Mamas” in every part of this country share the same feelings as the great gospel singer Shirley Caesar when she sang, “No Charge.”

Reliving Bigger Thomas on the Streets in Baltimore

On By thewriterfredIn Black Culture, Black History, Black Men1 Comment

Seventy-five years ago, Richard Wright shocked the country when he created the character Bigger Thomas in his best selling novel, Native Son. In this novel, the author paints a picture of unbearable living condition that Blacks experienced in the inner city of Chicago. The protagonist, Bigger Thomas, personifies the end result of human beings forced to confront racism and poverty.  What was most revealing about Bigger was the degree of his anger and his alienation from the world in which he felt trapped. In order to reconcile his hate for a country that refuses to treat him as an equal, he turns to violence. Accidently killing the white girl serves as a catharsis for him and he then is able to kill again.

In his outstanding narrative history of African American writers and critics, Professor Lawrence P. Jackson writes that, “From start to finish, Wright pointed to the recognition of anger and its potential eruption in violence as primal antidote to racism.” (Lawrence P. Jackson, The Indignant Generation, Princeton University Press, 2011, pg. 115) As I watch the young and alienated Blacks in Baltimore burn and destroy property I think of Bigger. If there was no other escape for Wright’s character than to turn to violence, can we then assume there is no escape for all the young Blacks who are willing to defy logic and challenge a massive police system that they cannot defeat? Just as Bigger was caught, many of them will be captured and sent off to prison. The system may consider incarceration a punishment but they just might consider it freedom.

NativeSon

Many of my young Black brothers and sisters are born into a world filled with poverty, to include dilapidated housing often over run with rodents, roaches and all other vermin in the dwellings, streets and alleys where they live. Richard Wright introduces us to Bigger Thomas, as he is trapping and killing a rat in their apartment. Bigger’s experience is the same that many of our youth encounter today. He dropped out of school in the eighth grade because he found no relevance in education for a black boy. I imagine many of the young Blacks, torching the buildings in Baltimore dropped out of school also.  Bigger and his buddies set out to rob a local merchant in their neighborhood. No different than the young Blacks in Baltimore, who are seen on television stealing merchandise from the CVS Drugstore and the local liquor store. They even invaded a check cashing office, obviously looking for money.

Finally, the great Algerian theoretician and freedom fighter, Franz Fanon, argues in his essay, “The Fact of Blackness,” that Bigger had to do something to relieve all the tension that had built up in him over the years. Much of that tension had to do with the fear and disgrace he felt about being Black and poor in America. That same fear and disgrace transcends to a hatred Bigger harbors toward white people. At the end of the novel when his attorney asked him did he feel any sexual desires for Mary Dalton, the white girl he murders, Bigger responds, “Like her? I hated her! So help me God, I hated her.

Fanon goes on to describe Bigger as a symbol that represents all Black men. There is, however, some exaggeration in Fanon’s representation. But there is also much truth in his writings. I believe that we can honestly extrapolate what Fanon has said to fit the image of many of those young Blacks, who set out to make a statement by burning down their own neighborhoods in Baltimore. No doubt there are many commentators who will dismiss the actions of these young men as those of thugs, hooligans, troublemakers and rabble-rousers. That kind of terminology makes them insignificant and dispensable, and their actions warrant no consideration or credibility.

I am not condoning the violence but only suggesting that just as we have a tendency to criticize the young men and women who turned to acts of destruction, let us be willing to criticize the system that played some part in that kind of behavior. What we cannot overlook is that Richard Wright wrote Native Son in 1940, and many of the inequities in the system that Bigger Thomas confronted and fought, still confront our young. The question I would like to pose is will our youth confront those same conditions of poverty and racism seventy-five years from today and if so, how will they respond?