WORK TO BE DONE

“In the end we will remember not the words of our enemies…but the silence of our friends.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

Harry Smith, the longtime NBC journalist once posed the question, “If Dr. King was still alive today what would he think about present condition of Civil Rights in the United States?”

I grew up “white” in the Fifties and Sixties in the South. Like most preteens or teenagers, I wasn’t a particularly socially aware person and believe I was somewhat sheltered from the realities of race relations by both my family and the area I grew up in…or it could have been my own form of “white privilege” rearing its head. I have very vivid memories of the stories that played out on our black and white RCA. School desegregation in Little Rock, Freedom Rider buses burning in Anniston and nonviolent marches and protests turning violent in far off places like Selma. I remember wondering why white folk so angry? One outcome was to make me wonder if I should have been angry too.

Throughout these times, filling my TV screen, Martin Luther King was quite visible and the center of much of what was going on. I remember a man with a powerful, yet soft baritone voice and a slow Southern drawl to go with it. I would not fully comprehend the full power of his voice or his personage until I watched a History Channel presentation on his “I HAVE A DREAM” speech, too many years later, as I tried to explain the impact and power of his words to a “lily white” US History class more than twenty years after his death. Sometimes I truly find myself quite late to the dance.

As hard as he worked to promote positive social change, I also remember the furor created when John Conyers and Edward Brooke co-authored a bill to recognize King’s birthday as a holiday. It would be fiercely opposed not only in the South, as one might expect, but also in states like Arizona. Arguments against its recognition included King’s beliefs on “Marxism or Communism” and his stance against the Viet Nam War along with personal attacks that I won’t speak to. South Carolina, my home state, would be the last to recognize it in 2000. I really don’t have to wonder why.

As I finally return to Smith’s question, I would believe Dr. King would be disappointed. He would recognize there has been some improvement in “individual” race relations but would find we still have a framework in place that is systematically discriminatory toward large numbers of our population. I believe he would say that we have lost ground overall and become less willing to cause any type of meaningful change. I also believe Dr. King would point a finger directly at our government shenanigans starting with a President who should have done more for race relations and trailing down to a Congress that would not let him. Dr. King’s biggest disappointment, however, would be reserved for “We the People” because we are ALL still “judged by the color of (our) skin,” (rather than) “by the content of (our) character.” I would also add judged by our creed, religious affiliation, sexual orientation, and lately our political orientation. Like Harry Smith, I believe Dr. King would say “There is much more work to be done.”

Don Miller’s authors page https://www.amazon.com/stores/Don-Miller/author/B018IT38GM?fbclid=IwAR1p7QBN-yUWs1bOs47zAoMreKP53kpsAFiOvGMKCjhOffcnqjhHneB4zMk&ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

WHAT’S SO BAD ABOUT KWANZAA?

I originally shared the bulk of this post in 2015. As I ran across a Happy Kwanzaa post from NASCAR of all things, I made the mistake of reading some of the comments. Really folks. I am so proud to be a Southerner, not.

Kwanzaa is racist. It is contrived. SOME PEOPLE are trying to replace Christmas. The founder was a Sixties’ black militant with ties to the Black Power Movement and not even African. Most of these arguments are made by very “hard right” publications like…well all of them.

Is St. Patrick’s Day racist? It’s no longer a religious celebration I would say. There are a lot of racist Black Irish I would think. Wait, even Irish Black Irish are white. Okay, is Cinco de Mayo racist. It celebrates a great victory over the French…in Mexico who, for the most part, don’t celebrate it. There are dozens of other ethnocultural celebrations, mostly white celebrations, so why pick on Kwanzaa? Are our racist petticoats still showing?

Kwanzaa is contrived. All holidays are contrived. When Adam and Eve were created or our forefathers learned to walk on two feet, did they have a holiday to celebrate? I don’t think so. I don’t know when the celebration of Christmas first occurred. Well, I do. I also know there was no biblical mandate to celebrate the Birth of Christ at all. Does that detract from its importance? To learn about the origins of Christmas celebrations you might like to visit the following site: http://www.simpletoremember.com/vitals/Christmas_TheRealStory.htm

Again, why are we picking on Kwanzaa? If you are going to pick on a contrived holiday pick on St. Valentine’s Day. The former religious celebration has become an observance of guilt for the purpose of lining the pockets of candy makers, jewelers, and florist. Kwanzaa begins on December 26 and ends January 1 and is not a religious celebration at all. It is a celebration of family, community, nation, and race and doesn’t really compete with Christmas or the dozens of other ends of year or New Year celebrations. Why not pick on them?

I cannot deny that Kwanzaa’s founder, Maulana Ndabezitha Karenga (born Ronald McKinley Everett) was a Sixties Black Power militant, who at the time had never set foot in Africa. He even served time on what was trumped up and politically motivated charges. He is now Dr. Karenga and taught African Studies which I guess makes him even worse…a liberal.

The Sixties were a time of social strife. Civil Rights, the War in Viet Nam, gender inequality, the Native American movement, and the Chicano movement were just some of the social issues championed by people like Cassius Clay, known to us now as Muhammad Ali, or Tommie Smith’s and Juan Carlos’s Black Power Salute at the 1968 Olympics. Let’s not forget that this was just two years after the signing of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and just two years before the assassination of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy. African Americans might be forgiven for wanting something positive to hang on to…and still might.

To say it is not African is absurd. There are over fifty countries in Africa and some three thousand tribal units. Many of the countries did not exist at the time Africans were being shipped to the New World. Each has a different culture. Kwanzaa is a blending of those cultures. Many African Americans do not have the luxury of knowing the country or tribe of their origin, so Kwanzaa is not culture specific. Whoopsie doo dah! I would say celebrate to your heart’s content.

If you would wish to learn more about Kwanzaa, History.com, connected to the History Channel, has a link: http://www.history.com/topics/holidays/kwanzaa-history you might want to visit. I would say “Don’t let the facts confuse you.”

MAW-REESE an excerpt from Pathways

This EXCERPT is from the short story MAW-REESE and is a story that takes place in the Fifties. It is about how the issue of race raised its ugly head and got into the way of a friendship.

We had played together every Monday for the previous two years… every Monday when the sun was shining…regardless of temperature, since we had turned four. A lot of my memories have become muddled with the passage of time or the fact I was just four or five, but there are bits and pieces that I grab on to and, if I hold on tightly enough, they will turn into memories. My recollections of Maw are quite clear. Mondays were Nannie’s wash days and she still held on enough to the old ways that she did her wash outside even though a wringer washing machine had replaced her washboard and tin wash tub. There wasn’t enough room inside the house for the washer, especially after an indoor bathroom had been added to what was once a back porch. Water was boiled on the old gas range and carried outside to the washer. After the clothes were washed or sometimes “blued” in the old, claw foot style bathtub, they were hand cranked through two rolls called a wringer, an act that scared me to death. I was always fearful a body part might get caught up in it. The clothes were then hung out to air-dry or freeze if the temperature was too low. On days it was not in use, the washer became my personal spacecraft or tank and, despite my fear, they possessed a hand-cranked machine gun or pulsar cannon.

Miss Maggie Cureton was Nannie’s wash woman and friend even though during those days saying your friend was a “colored” wash woman was not something a white woman could admit. After Paw Paw died and Nannie moved in next door with us and our new-fangled washing machine and dryer, Miss Maggie became obsolete but was not replaced. Miss Maggie just became Nannie’s fishing buddy. I’m not sure a woman would like to be described as “thin and wiry” but it is the description I must use. Miss Maggie looked to be as tough as harness leather with strong muscles roping her thin arms. She was also as black as the end of a burned stick and always wore a kerchief around her head, unless she donned a huge straw hat given to her by my grandmother. While small, she could pull her weight and then some when lugging around baskets of water-soaked sheets or stringers loaded with fish. My fondest remembrance of her was the way she addressed me as “Honey Chile.” Her endearment was a little more loving than being referred to as one of the “you chaps” which was as close to an affectionate utterance every received from my grandmother.

One Monday morning Miss Maggie did not come alone but brought Maw and his two-year-old sister Bessy along with her. Maw’s mother, Maggie’s daughter, had found work at a church in Lancaster and would later marry a minister. Maw and Bessy were Miss Maggie’s grandchildren. While Maggie was ebony, Maw and Bessy were not. They were more the shade of the rich Luzianne coffee and cream that my grandmother drank. Their skin was shiny and seemed to glow in the morning light which accented their reddish hue. I heard them later referred to as “redbone” and was too young to understand the dynamics of someone who was bi-racial. The shine of their skin was due to the perspiration caused by their already hot and humid walk across the wide, sometimes cotton and sometimes hay field that separated their home from ours. Maw was my age, a few months older, and stood with his right foot planted firmly on the ground with his left nervously tucked, toes curled, under his instep. Both he and his sister were barefooted and dressed in hand-me-downs as was I, but I had not had to navigate the stubble and briars left behind from the last hay cutting. While only slightly older, Maw was already a half-head taller and several pounds heavier. Not intending to be stereotypical, Maw was the athlete I wished I could have been.

You may read the end of this story and others by downloading my book PATHWAYS on Kindle or purchase through Amazon at the following link: http://goo.gl/v7SdkH

TEACHING ISLAM?

Former students, help me out here. Not just my former students, any former student. Do you remember being taught anything about Islam during “World History before the Renaissance” or Comparative Religion courses? I keep seeing such an outcry against teaching anything about Islam. Do we not need to know our enemy? Wait, I do not want to be misunderstood…I don’t think Islam is our enemy any more than I believe Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism or Judaism are our enemies. I probably should have mentioned Animism and Jainism to because I mentioned them when I taught comparative religion. Okay Confucius taught a way of life based upon mutual respect and technically is not a religion, I guess, but I taught it just like I did the others. It would appear I might have failed with the concept of respect. I also did a unit on modern terrorism. Daesh or ISIS weren’t our enemies then but Al Qaida was, along with several dozen (or more) other terrorist groups running the gambit of all religions along with people who claim to be atheist.

All terrorist are not Muslim nor are all Muslims terrorist. According to multiple sources, all biased I am sure, Muslim terrorism caused less than ten percent of the deaths due to terrorism recorded on US soil since 9/11. One source, http://www.washingtonsblog.com, siting the START Global Terrorism Database, states that since 1970, only 2.5 percent of terrorist acts carried out on US soil were Muslim. But, I digress.

Why would we not teach comparative religions or for that matter comparative cultures? Do we just ignore what we don’t want to understand and refuse to recognize the contributions made by Africans, Asians, Muslims, Catholics, and Mormons…etc.? During the Middle Ages “Western Civilization” was somewhat stagnate and backward…until Christian knights went off to fight the barbarians who called them infidels. Despite losing the “Holy Land” and actually killing more Jews and Christians than Muslims, Crusading knights brought back more than they left with. In addition to unknown foods and spices, they brought back a real concept of medicine based upon science rather than superstition, algebra, clocks, water wheels, and the modern acoustic guitar. Okay I have digressed again but am sure thankful they brought home the guitar and got one into BB King’s hands. They could have left algebra behind.

I’m not a fan of the Common Core and certainly am against lesson plans trying to convert our children to Islam…or any religion which I doubt Common Core does. As a teacher of social studies, conversion was not my function and in my part of the world is not allowed in public schools. However, teaching all religions from a cultural or historical standpoint is…and should remain so. Not teaching Islam would be akin to Nazi’s burning Jewish books, ignoring Protestantism if one were a Catholic or maybe ignoring the contributions of Mormons in our own West. As I have been told repeatedly from certain flag wavers, its history and we can’t ignore it…nor should we. We should also practice what we preach.

“DIVIDE ET IMPERA”

No one knows with certainty who said it first…”Divide and Rule.” Philip of Macedonia, father of Alexander the Great, King Louie XI of France and Machiavelli all used it. It has been attributed to Julius Caesar and Sun Tzu’s ART OF WAR. It has also been misquoted in translation to mean “Divide and Conquer.” For my purposes, this particular translation works fine. You might want to consider another famous quote, this one from Abraham Lincoln, “A house divided cannot stand.” They are both related.

We are up to our chins in a metaphorical swamp loaded with hungry alligators and we are doing nothing to drain it, except to point fingers and blame each other for not draining the swamp sooner or causing the swamp to fill up originally. Honestly! Does it matter how the alligators got into the swamp or who is to blame? We are past the point of blame but we continue to feed the alligators anyway.

Has anyone thought that our “Islamophobia” might be doing exactly what ISIS wants? Driving a wedge between the people of the United States. Dividing and possibly creating more “soldiers” for ISIS and more fear for rest of us, domestic Muslims included. ISIS would not want to do that would they? I have read so many divisive post that are being shared by people that I thought were good Christians and intelligent people. Good Christian BIGOTS it would seem. RACISM in the name of Christ. Towel heads, goat fuckers, jokes about burning Mosques and “bed sheets” burning. Reminds me of the Fifties and Sixties and WE, AS GOOD CHRISTIANS, should be ashamed. Actually it reminds me more of Nazi propaganda films produced prior to World War Two designed and well executed to turn the German population against Jews. Even our presidential candidates are proposing closing Mosques or forcing Muslims to wear identification. How very Nazi of them. I know there is no law, other than Christ’s law, preventing someone from being bigoted or racist but we need to understand our enemy and focus on defeating him. Turning our own Muslim population against us does not provide us with a means to that end. Should we consider where these post are coming from? ISIS has proven to have the technological expertise to introduce such division although I am not sure they need to. I still believe our greatest enemy is ourselves and someone’s propaganda machine is working overtime.

We have myriad of problems facing us and most are of our own creation, including ISIS. How do we solve them? One at a time and it must begin with the defeat of ISIS and not the alienation of our population. It’s not about Muslims, Christians or Jews, blacks, whites or any other race. It is not about protesting college students or about abusive rhetoric, nor for that matter…any rhetoric. It’s about humans becoming unified as Americans against one enemy that is not us.

Pink Stars and Scarlet Q’s

Pat Robertson, God love him, didn’t really say that Lesbians and Gays should wear special colors did he? This is just one of those libtard or troll sites trying to stir up more trouble. Isn’t it? What? Should they all be sporting little pink stars their clothing or a scarlet Q’s on the forehead? If that was stereotypical I am sorry it wasn’t meant to be. It must have been a liberal site stirring up trouble because they mentioned Nazi’s as being bad. Okay? Glad that is cleared up.

I do truly understand the religious side of the argument. One man, one woman. I get it and I don’t guess I want my friends Wally and Delmer getting hitched in my church…actually I don’t care but I understand that you do. I also want them to have the same matrimonial rights before the law that I have and come to think of it, no homosexual male has troubled me nearly as much as my two heterosexual ex-wives and the woman I dated who threw me over for her lesbian lover, now that was painful.

In the best book that few people have read, FLOPPY PARTS, I wrote the following:
I have a pink IPOD which for some reason has become the object of debate. I realize that I don’t coach in one of the more progressive areas of the world but find it thought provoking that even the mature kids that I coach ask, “Why do you have a pink IPOD?” They ask this while giving me the old fish eye and nodding as if they know something that I don’t. Well, they probably do know something that I don’t but they do not know the reasoning behind the pink IPOD. I do not know why some men and boys have a homophobic fear of the color pink. I have several gay friends who nicely counterbalance the homophobic friends that I have, and none of them wear pink any more, or less, than anyone else. I also have no femininity issues unless they are latent. What if they are? I am in perfect tune with my feminine side and do not feel the urge to wear frilly feminine underwear…at least not yet. So, what is the reason for a pink IPOD? I know you are all on the edge of your seat anticipating the answer. Drum roll please! TA – DAH! You see, I can find it more easily when I lose it. Unless I have lost it on a pink flamingo or pink Cadillac, it is easily seen. No other reason at all. It is easy to find! Now if you feel the need to discuss pink being one of my favorite colors or my lack of concern when I wear pink knit shirts, pink ties or flowery Hawaiian shirts in pink motifs, we can talk about it. I do so love pink flamingoes and would offer a body part to own a Fifties model pink Caddy convertible. I just believe that I am a progressive thinker. Okay, not THAT progressive! It would have to be a body part that comes in twos.

Few of my homophobic friends, or homosexual friends for that matter, have a fear of wearing pink …that I know of. I do find it humorous that some of my homophobic friends, one especially, are so adamant about “I don’t want them coming around me!” In my wisest teaching voice I ask, “Ken, are you afraid it is going to rub off on you? You know it is not like the flu. You can’t catch it.” I loved it when he offered the explanation that, “I don’t want them coming on to me.” Why did I love it? Because I got to ask, “Do you have a problem with the women coming on to you, because unless you are having to beat them off with a stick, you are probably not going to have to worry about men coming on to you.” I know I just missed a wonderful opportunity for a pun.

I also question the concept of being against homosexuality if you are a heterosexual male. Doesn’t that improve the odds of hooking up with a heterosexual female? Mathematically that would be two guys you wouldn’t be in competition with. Shouldn’t men be railing against lesbianism? No, we all have this dream that we can convert them. Ken would say, “It’s Biblical.” I guess I would agree but couldn’t help myself and asked, “What about ‘spilling your seed upon the ground’ Ken?” Ever been guilty of that? In a study I read, of the ten thousand men polled, ninety-nine percent admitted to doing it and I would suggest that the remaining one percent are liars. He looked pensive for a moment, nodded his head before turning it to the side and weakly asked, “What’s with the pink IPOD, man?”

It is my guess that Ken would prefer the pink star or the scarlet Q even though he is not very Nazi like. Come to think of it he is not very Pat Robertson like either.
If you enjoyed this except you can find the complete story in FLOPPY PARTS, downloadable on Kindle for $.99 at http://goo.gl/q3XjJ4 or if FLOPPY PARTS are not your cup of tea you might want to try “WINNING WAS NEVER THE ONLY THING…” at goo.gl/dO1hcX

DARK FORCES AMONG US

DARK FORCES AMONG US

I really miss the good old days – the days when we knew who our enemies were. The days when a lab experience involving sodium and water gone wrong could be laughed at; when potato guns and exploding gas-filled hydrogen balloons were tools used to engage students instead of weapons of potential terrorist activities. When fertilizer was fertilizer and not a potential bomb. I also hate it when a kid walking into a school with a clock gets arrested. I understand it and agree completely with what the school did because of the dark times that we live in. It hurts me to have to say that. It also hurts me to see the venom directed toward a child named Ahmed and a president named Barack in the aftermath. This is our Christian society?

It seems that everything provokes an argument. Not an argument waiting to happen but argument that already exists. I visualize both the far left and far right-wingers waiting for POTUS to finish his morning poop so they can argue over the consistency of his stool and whether it is light or dark enough, firm enough or soft enough, or whether it does or does not contain enough pork to prove that he is or is not a Muslim. No, I don’t believe he is a Muslim. I do believe he was born in the United States. Those of you who disagree have fallen under the influence of dark forces. We are six and one-half years into his presidency. You are beating a dead mule and it stinks!

I have always considered myself a moderate, center of the road kind of guy. I CAN’T FIND THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD anymore! I know that the middle still exists and that the majority of the people of the United States are there. But where is it and why are we so quiet?

I guess I have gotten “jaded” in my old age. WHERE IS THE SO-CALLED MORAL MAJORITY? I don’t mean the hate-spewing far right, in their own mind, moral majority. You do realize in another time, Hitler was firmly on the far right. How did that work out for him and the world? Yes, I did compare SOME CHRISTIANS to Hitler. They are the ones who hate lesbians and gays, Jews, Muslims and blacks with a venom I hope I never understand. They also believe that the Second Amendment entitles them to purchase a fully-armed tank or an ICBM.

A post piqued my interest and, in search of truth, I found myself on a site called TruthTV.US. I’ll be honest, after looking at it, I feel a little dirty and in need of a shower. I had the same feeling years ago when I researched the American Communist Party for a lesson plan I was doing, not that I was thinking about joining. I hope that Homeland Security was not monitoring me this time. On this site I saw videos by David Duke, a video entitled “The Monkey Who Became President”, and all types of racial, cultural and government hate-spewing. The problem rattling around in my head is that some of their tenets and videos I saw seem to be in line with posts on Facebook from people I care about.

Dark forces have kidnapped the middle! Within two hours of identifying the UCC shooter I saw posts “proving” that he was a Muslim, citing a link on a social media account (Breitbart). Others (Examiner and Huffington Post) were claiming he was a Nazi fanatic with ties to the IRA. Later a third (The Inquisitr) quoted from the shooter’s “manifesto” and described him as being a young man who “would die friendless and a virgin.” There was a time when I feared the same thing but I never shot anyone. Far right versus far left and all are lies or, at least, misinformation…except for The Inquisitr. Other news services reported he was a hater of organized religion and a misguided, mentally ill man with a bunch of guns. Another site accused CNN of “lightening” his picture to make him look more “white.” His dad is white but why should it matter? Well, the right says it should matter even though lately most school shootings have been carried out by mentally ill white kids. His mother is black and there are plenty of left-leaning sites blaming her for his love for guns and the Second Amendment. FACT: He was a mentally disturbed, Army washout who was allowed to play with too many guns and those nine people are still dead. Dark forces, including our politicians, are pushing their agendas while the bodies had yet to be buried.

The one post that really upset me was the one from the European Union Times which reported the shooter’s name had been on a terrorist list offered to us by the Russians, a list President Obama refused to accept. I have seen nothing to support it yet a former teaching bud shared the post. I’m sure he wasn’t the only one but he should know better. Do you think the Russians sent President Obama an email warning him? We ARE getting along so well. The European Union Times was characterized by Rational Wiki as xenophobic, anti-Sematic, and racist, as well as, Obama bashers. Then there is the question as to how reliable is Rational Wiki? Another question is how xenophobic, anti-Sematic, and racist are the people sharing this.

There are dark forces hiding in every shadow. Why do WE ALLOW these dark forces to do their dirty work? Do we not realize that it is our country that they are trying to destroy? A Facebook friend of mine, Don McCorkle, posted a quote about a mental malady called cognitive dissonance proposed by Franz Fanon, a psychoanalyst.

“Sometimes people hold a core belief that is very strong. When they are presented with evidence that works against that belief, the new evidence cannot be accepted. It would create a feeling that is extremely uncomfortable, called cognitive dissonance. And because it is so important to protect the core belief, they will rationalize, ignore and even deny anything that doesn’t fit in with the core belief.”

Some of us are allowing dark forces to play on our prejudices, our preconceptions, and our fears thus feeding our cognitive dissonance. Some are blindly passing off lies as the truth without one bit of research or conscience. Many times these lies are spread in the name of God. There are liars and agitators who are poisoning our way of life and turning us against each other in hopes that we will destroy ourselves and we are allowing it. Somehow the rational middle must get control of their imaginations and address their fears before that happens. We who have not been duped must hasten to expose these dark forces to the cleansing light of day before it is too late.
Image from http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/grim-reaper-dad-spooked-after-6268150

“PEPSI COLA”-A LESSON IN PREJUDICE

In the early 1960’s our Southern heritage was being assaulted with Yankee government mandates to end “separate but equal” in favor of desegregation “with all deliberate speed.” The Deep South was deliberately dragging its feet. Alabama’s flamboyant governor George Wallace probably expressed our segregationist attitudes best when he attempted to stand up to that Yankee government exclaiming, “I draw the line in the dust and toss the gauntlet before the feet of tyranny, and I say segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever.” Our own native son and segregationist Strom Thurmond said, “All the laws of Washington and all the bayonets of the Army cannot force the Negro into our homes, into our schools, our churches and our places of recreation and amusement.” Strom would even help lay the foundation for today’s modern GOP when he exchanged his Democratic blue for Republican red because Democratic President Lyndon Johnson stabbed the Solid South in the back by signing into law the Civil Right’s Act of 1964. Thurmond claimed it was in protest of big government and State’s Rights. Sound familiar? Wasn’t Strom a candidate for president on the Dixiecrat ticket? Since Strom’s defection the only Democratic presidential hopeful to take a majority of deep Southern states was Jimmy Carter from Georgia. Considering how well that turned out, I doubt that will happen again. Two years prior to the Civil Right’s Act of 1964, in 1962, the debate over the Confederate flag flying on the Capitol grounds would begin when the Battle Flag of Northern Virginia was raised over the Capitol Dome to commemorate the Civil War centennial…and to “shoot a bird” at the federal government’s attempts to push us toward desegregation.

Despite it being racist times I don’t remember my community being a racist hotbed. It certainly wasn’t a hotbed of racist rhetoric. There were plenty of pro-segregationist meetings in our little part of the world, though. Community meetings with the School Board, superintendent and principal were held in, what I thought back then, was the spacious auditorium of our school. I remember the principal and superintendent, along with the local school board fielding questions from a packed “white” house. One question that was never quite answered was “What are we going to do about those Negro ‘Bucks’ walking the hallways with our daughters?” I realize now how fearful some parents were that their daughters were going to be carried off and raped…or worse, that they might willingly walk off on their own before giving up their most prized gift—gasp!—gladly.

Despite this not being an original thought, I believe that race relations in South Carolina (you may insert racism) is the product of fear that has plagued South Carolina since slavery days when the slave population outnumbered the white population. That fear manifested itself in the “well-founded” terror of a potential slave revolt on one side or the prospect of reprisals caused by revolts on the other. In a few accounts, it would appear that reprisals were carried out because there might have been a brief thought of a revolt. This dread would be continued and intensified after the Civil War. Panic mounted over the contemplation of retaliations by the former slaves and that their “unbridled African passions” would be unleashed on our innocent white female population. (What were the African ladies doing?)

The centerpiece of our hate was the resentment by white supremacists, a majority of the white population throughout the South specifically and the US in general, that we were going to be groveling at the feet of black lawmakers. The old “loss of status bug-a-boo” was primary on the minds of old white “planter class” who had had the power and wanted it back. While some blacks were elected, all of that would change with the end of Reconstruction and the antebellum status quo would return and be maintained with De Jure legislation that became known as Jim Crow laws. Later this would be upheld with the Supreme Court railroad case Plessy v Ferguson which made “separate but equal” the law of the land and which intensified the trepidation and hate on both sides of our heritage.

Separate but equal did not seem to be a problem in Indian Land. It did not seem Brown’s “with all deliberate speed” could be an issue at this time but, for reasons that eluded my six-year-old mind, people were worried. We did not have a huge population of African-Americans and none of them were carrying spears or wearing leopard skins like in the Tarzan movies. They tended to live around Van Wyck, the brick making capitol of the state, or out past Uncle James’s farm which might as well have been in…deepest Africa. Maggie Cureton’s family lived way, way, way across the road and by the 1960’s they were long gone.

While I had seen African-American males I would not meet my first African- American adult male until the very late fifties when we remodeled our house. A black brick mason with the interesting name of “Pepsi Cola” Mobley was hired to add the brick veneer to our original home along with the two new rooms added onto each end.
“Pepsi Cola” was a stud, as were his two sons who served as helpers and apprentice brick layers. It was their responsibility to carry the bricks and “mud” to their father as he did the placing of the brick runs. I found the whole endeavor to be interesting but not nearly as interesting as the “colored” folk who were carrying out the tasks. The acorns did not fall far from the tree! Close-cropped “steel wool” hair over clear ebony skin; they possessed the whitest of stereotypical teeth below broad flat noses and wide cheekbones. All three were powerfully built with muscles bulging and glistening with sweat from handling and placing the bricks. “Pepsi Cola’s” decades of brick work had given him shoulders so wide I doubted his ability to walk through a door without turning sideways along with hands that were beaten, scarred and as rough as the slabs on the side of my grandparent’s barn. All three started the day in tattered yet clean tees and denim pants that had patches patched over patches. As the heat of the day intensified, shirts would be discarded exposing broad, powerful chests that were covered in tight black curly hair. Curiously, whenever my grandmother or mother stepped outside, there was a bit of a scramble to put their shirts back on. “Pepsi” was gregarious, singing Negro hymns and laughing his way through the day or “holding court” for anyone near by, which was usually the eight or nine-year old “little man” that was me. I found him to have the most interesting accent to go along with a lot of words that began with “dees” ended in “esses.” His sons were the exact opposite – quiet and, I would say, somewhat sullen. In hindsight, my guess is that there was little way to wedge a word in edgewise with “Pepsi Cola” around.

I learned a lesson of the times during the course of the remodeling. Sent to carry a jug of water out to the workers, I asked Mr. Mobley, “Mr. Mobley, would you like some water?” “Eyes do, Eyes do, indeeds, Little Man,” he answered with his best grin. In turn, I gave the sons water and returned to my grandmother who informed me of my grievous faux pas, “You don’t refer to ‘coloreds’ by mister unless you use their first name.” Okay, “Mister Pepsi Cola!”

For me and the rest of South Carolina, Separate but Equal would hold on tenaciously until my senior year when “token integration” was introduced. Over the next few years, mainly 1969 and 1970, full integration and busing would rule the day when made possible by the threat of losing federal funds instead of earlier threats of federal troops which could not help but bring back references to Reconstruction. Scenes of angry whites meeting buses carrying black children had been broadcast nationwide on our little black and white television since 1957 in Arkansas. Luckily these scenes were not played out in our little corner of the world; however, throughout the state white families fled their public schools, preferring instead to turn down federal subsidies and send their children to private schools bearing names of Confederate generals and politicians. Forty-five years later many of those “academies” still exist, especially in areas that can be described as socially and economically lacking and whose public schools are still predominantly black.

Most of our fears have not been realized. Our most prized possessions it would seem, our women, were not carried off and gang-raped by angry blacks. I guess some white supremacist would say that things are worse because there are A LOT of BIRACIAL folks walking the streets and country roads of the South today. I wonder by what means they got here? Oddly enough, there is even one in the White House! Could it be that most of us are finally overcoming our fears?

I wrote this in the language of the times and it was not meant to offend anyone…except racist and white supremacist. I hope I was successful.

A Quest

One Southerner’s search for the truth about his Southern Heritage and Hate

The aftermath of the Charleston Massacre has caused me to examine one of the very cornerstones of my life – my Southern heritage as it relates to “War of the Rebellion.”  Recent calls to remove monuments and rename buildings has renewed this examination.

Born on an Easter Sunday (April 9, 1950) a mere eighty-five years to the day the most revered man in the South, General Robert E. Lee surrendered at Appomattox Court House, I grew up re-fighting “The War of Northern Aggression.”

As a child I really did not understand any of the dynamics of our Civil War and, at one time, could not understand “why” North Carolina had invaded South Carolina and “why” much of the fighting had taken place in far away from Virginia or “out west.”  In my defense, I was very young and uneducated.

I thought that it might have been something like the Gillette “Fight of the Week” and held in a neutral ring. This was in 1957 and I know it was this year because of my favorite TV series – the one year wonder “The Gray Ghost” – aired only in 1957. This program is what caused the “why” questions to first be asked as it chronicled the exploits of Confederate cavalry commander John Singleton Mosby and his men who rode rings around the foolish “Damn Yankees” located in distant Virginia.

A year or so later, after the worst decision since James Buchanan sent the “Star of the West” to provision Fort Sumter, “The Gray Ghost” was canceled. By this time I had had a geography lesson or five and my program of choice became “The Rebel” starring Nick Adams as a former Confederate soldier and aspiring journalist named Johnny Yuma.

Complete with Rebel kepi, Colt revolver, and a sawed-off shotgun, Yuma traveled the Texas countryside righting wrongs and defending the weak while making amends and trying to come to grips with what he had experienced during the “War of the Rebellion.” He would then write about his travels and adventures in a journal that had been given to him by a friend. I too wore my kepi and packed my cap pistols proudly as I defended the chickens and hogs around my grandparent’s old barn.

Both Mosby and Yuma were heroic figures, Mosby in real life, although maligned like James Longstreet for choosing to serve in Grant’s “Yankee government” after the war, and Yuma as a knightly character in black and white television. They were portrayed as chivalrous characters like all of the men who wore gray or butternut and who fought to preserve the Southern way of life against the invading blue-clad Yankee hordes. They were as knightly as the character Ivanhoe in Walter Scott’s book by the same title.

For some reason, “Ivanhoe seemed to be required reading in order to become a true Southern gentleman. I am unsure if I am a gentleman but I have read the book and saw the Robert Taylor version of the movie repeatedly. I confess that I still watch it to lust after a young Elizabeth Taylor whose character Rebecca is the Jewish object of Norman Knight Brian De Bois-Guilbert’s desire as played by a way-too-old George Sanders.

I was too enamored by Elizabeth Taylor’s green eyes to recognize the parallels between the Civil War and the movie at the time but realize now that there were many. The story and movie are about Ivanhoe’s quest to ransom King Richard’s return to the English throne. He led an outmanned and ill-equipped army that featured Robin of Loxley and his “merry men.”

The movie emphasized the cultural strife between the Normans and the Saxons and their class inequalities and also displayed the racism and anti-Semitism shown to Rebecca and her father Isaac. All could be metaphors for the United States during the period leading up to and including the war.

During the climactic “wager of battle,” Rebecca sits stoically awaiting her fate as Sir Brian De Bois-Guibert, who is willing to destroy what he loves rather than allow her to love another, seems to have the upper hand until Ivanhoe prevails and mortally wounds the Yankee at the end. Did I say Yankee? I really meant the Norman knight.

To the point, Ivanhoe was just like our chivalrous young men who rallied to the flag to defend their states. It was always assumed that they would find a way to prevail at the end against the more numerous and better equipped Yankee invaders. Instead, the best the South had to offer spilled their blood and the blood of their enemy. The South was destroyed in the attempt…well…maybe reborn.

A great yarn.  It became much more than a story for those chivalrous young men who rallied to the flag. Two of those young men were John R. and Marion DeKalb Rogers, my great, great, great and great, great grandfathers. Both enlisted in what would be Company H, Twelfth Regiment of the South Carolina Volunteer Infantry in August of 1861.

John, according to family tradition, died of typhoid fever less than six months into his service but died under the flag NONE-THE-LESS. Marion would go on to fight in twenty-eight battles including Gettysburg. Most of these battles were fought under the standard that we know as the Battle Flag of the Army of Northern Virginia and were led by the famed Confederate commander General Robert E. Lee. Unfortunately for the South, it would be the Yankee flag and Sherman’s “bummers” who would have the last say in South Carolina and Grant’s Army of the Potomac in Virginia.

According to my great, great grandfather’s military records, despite fighting gallantly in a rearguard action to allow Lee’s Army to escape Petersburg, he and a thousand other Confederate soldiers would be overwhelmed and captured at a Virginia village named Sutherland (Southerland?) Station on April 3. (According to actual historical records the battle took place on the 2nd.) He was lucky as over five hundred were killed in action. This was less than a week before Lee would surrender but not have to hand over his sword to Grant at the McLean House at Appomattox.

After my grandfather’s capture, he would be held at Hart’s Island in New York until his release in July. Of the original one hundred and thirty-seven recruits in Company H, only seventeen made it home alive. M. D. Rogers was one of those lucky seventeen, which for my particular lineage was fortuitous.

After the massacre in Charleston, there was a decision to remove from the South Carolina Capitol Grounds the Battle Flag – the same flag that my granddads times two and three fought under and the same one that many Southerners are now trying to keep flying. Their point has been that the South was not defending its peculiar institution of slavery as one of the reasons to go to war. According to many supporters, slavery was just a “side issue.”

My great grandfathers were part of the eighty to ninety percent who shouldered arms but were not slaveholders. So…they could not have fought to uphold slavery, could they? The war was about regional rivalries. It was about how the Northern economic interests desired to control the South, a “red-haired” stepchild, with illegal tariffs so as to ensure that Southern cotton was cheap when it was acquired by the Northern factories. They wanted to steal Southern chattel and not honor laws that would return Southern property to us. It was an argument over State’s Rights and sovereignty.

When we had had enough and seceded from the Union, the Federals broke a promise and took over an uncompleted fort in Charleston Harbor. Later, when an attempt was made to re-provision this fort, our gallant military opened fire to drive the ship away. Eventually, we opened fire on Fort Sumter itself in order to force the Federal garrison to abandon our newly acquired property and the rest is history…or is it?

A teaching friend of mine and a true Son of the South often makes the argument that Civil War history has been victimized by “revisionists” who have attempted to defame the South with inaccurate and adjusted claims. Until a while ago, a dozen or so years before Charleston, I would have agreed with him. Unfortunately, I believe now that we both have been victimized by what became known as “The Lost Cause.”

I also acknowledge that I will never be able to convince him or other diehard “Sons of the Confederacy” of that victimization. The phrase Lost Cause was coined by Virginia writer Edward Pollard who wrote the book The Lost Cause in 1866. (1)

In an essay about Pollard’s book, Origins of the Lost Cause, Michael Speiser of the University of Virginia states, and I quote because he says it better than I ever could, “In the immediate aftermath of the Civil War, a number of white southern writers and political leaders worked to construct a favorable history of the old South and the Confederacy.

Seeking vindication of the white South in the wake of seemingly crushing defeat, they resurrected pro-white southern imagery and ideology of earlier years. In doing so, these advocates for the white South constructed a “Lost Cause” mythology and memory of the Civil War and white Southern history and culture. Specifically, they celebrated the South’s natural beauty and idyllic plantations, supported a white supremacist racial hierarchy in southern society, claimed liberty as a southern principle and the American Revolution as southern heritage, wrapped their sectionalism in a constitutional theory of state sovereignty, and nostalgically glorified the southern past.” (2)

One might want to think of Gone with the Wind or the original Birth of a Nation at this time.The Lost Cause was what I was taught and in turn, I repeated this same history when I taught it, at least at the beginning of my career. My indoctrination was so complete that I would not dig more deeply into my heritage until many years later. My teaching wasn’t about slavery but about Southern rights with “Tara’s Theme” playing in the background.

Most slaveholders held one or two slaves, not hundreds, and only ten or twenty percent owned slaves at all. Most slave owners weren’t abusive. Why would you beat something as valuable as a slave? Would you beat a horse or is that a bad analogy?  Those were the “facts” I was taught.

Scenes of happy slaves singing while toiling in the fields flitted through my mind again accompanied by more strains from “Tara’s Theme.” The North was attempting to commandeer Southern cotton and the profits made on the backs of these happy slaves for the sake of the Northern industry. Dah, Dah, Daaaah, Da, Da, Daah …wait… that was the theme to the “High and the Mighty” not “Tara’s Theme.”

The Lost Cause IS a part of our true heritage, but not our true history. So is the heritage of hate that racism, slavery, the Civil War and its aftermath have left to us…even today. So is the fear that it all fostered…for both races. It is the heritage of both SOUTHERN BLACKS AND WHITES and doesn’t even begin to cover the heritage of Jim Crow, forced prison labor, red lined districts, etc.

Our Southern heritage is not just a white heritage; it is also a black heritage like two sides of the same coin. We all have to recognize this fact and accept it. I believe that we can keep our heritage, both black and white, despite or, maybe, in spite of the hate and fear.

Much like an abuser in a twelve-step program, we must be truthful and that starts with being truthful to ourselves. One place to start might be to recognize that our racism is as much an American phenomenon as it is a Southern one. Northerners, Westerners, African-Americans, Hispanics, and Asians also display prejudice. After all, I have had it pointed out to me repeatedly that the North is just as racist as the South, if not more so. Okay… that makes me feel better.

Despite my heritage, I realize that the removal of the Battle Flag was right and a long time coming. I believe that much of what has been discussed about removing other parts of our Confederate history is not only hurting White Southerners but Black Southerners as well. Instead of tearing down monuments or removing the bones of our sometimes conflicted and dark history, whether black or white, why don’t we add to those monuments?  Why don’t we admit to our hate and our heritage.

In South Carolina, for every “Pitchfork” Ben Tillman or Strom Thurmond, there is a Charles Townsend, a Harold Boulware, a Matilda Evans, a Pat Conroy or a former student like Phillip Boykin. Let us remember those folks who have worked hard to unite our South and to move our “multi-racial” society forward. We might also want to remember that like Strom Thurmond or Ben Tillman many of us have some secrets that we would like to hide and forget.

The history that was—WAS… and can NOT be changed…although I have never taught history using a flag or a statue. We must accept and recognize our history, both good and bad. Despite their racism, both Tillman and Thurmond accomplished much good for our state. That statement is not an excuse for their travesties.

We should admit that the flag and our monuments represents two sides of heritage and unfortunately, one of those sides is hate. To say that slavery was a side issue, despite all of the evidence otherwise, simply marginalizes a large percentage of our population. To me, our heritage of racism and white supremacy is not worth doing that.
(1) Edward Albert Pollard, The Lost Cause: A New Southern History of the War of the Confederates (New York: E. B. Treat & Co., Publishers, 1866).
(2)  http://www.essaysinhistory.com/articles/2011/6

“GOD HAS NO RELIGION”

“GOD HAS NO RELIGION”
-Mahatma Gandhi, Indian Philosopher

Today, I see so many divisive posts, it angers me and also makes me wonder if I need to invest in assault weapons and the canned bean industry. During my US History classes I usually taught that 1968 might have the most divisive year since the end of the Civil War. Tet, Walter Cronkite telling us that the war was unwinnable, war protests, continued Civil Rights issues and the assassinations of Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King were just a few of the reasons that I cited. Now I am not so sure that I could still say that. Any type of opinion is met with ridicule and name-calling from the other side – gay marriage, Black Lives Matter, the issue of the Confederate Battle Flag, our “entitlements,” illegal immigration. Now things that should never be an issue have become one. Case in point is religion. Christians versus Muslims; Christians versus Atheist; Christians versus gays; Christian conservatives against Christian liberals…do I see a trend here? At least, Christian conservatives are supporting the Jews in Israel, and perhaps, the Jewish presidential candidate Bernie Sanders.
I grew up Methodist, went to a Lutheran institution of higher learning, flirted with Episcopalians and Presbyterians and married three, that’s right, three Baptist women. While I find women to be a type of religious experience, that last admission is what keeps me out of the gay marriage debate along with any kind of statements about abortion and keeps me from agreeing to be a Deacon, which is a blessing. My tiptoeing through so many Protestant religions, not to mention three marriages, has also caused me, despite my public dunking into the Southern Baptist Church, to develop my own form of the Christian religion – one that I have mentioned before in other writings – The Evolutionary New Testament Church of Christ as “hallucinated” by Don. As of this moment, my newly-founded church has an enrollment of one.
I would characterize my Methodist upbringing as being very conservative. There weren’t a lot of amens coming from the Amen Corner and our music was very straight-laced. My wife would say it was “tight assed.” This description comes from a woman who went to church every time the doors were opened, sometimes when they weren’t , and as you might know, was instructed that dancing was against the tenets of God. I believe this prohibition developed because while Moses was up on a mountain talking to God, the Israelites were dancing naked around an idol. But didn’t David dance to celebrate the Ark’s arrival in Jerusalem? Was he naked like that Greek statue? Well, this taboo did lead to my favorite religious joke. Why don’t Baptists make love standing up? It looks too much like dancing!! “Cha-Ching!”
We, the members of my church, did have our moments of religious fervor, usually around revival time when we put our “high church stuffiness” away. I remember a particularly hot August evening before our church was air-conditioned. During a weeklong revival it was hotter than…you can fill that in. I remember hearing the roll of distant thunder as lightning flashed just above the visible horizon that I was watching from the opened window. The only air circulating came from the hand fans provided to us by Wolfe Funeral Home. They were working overtime and probably just spread the heat produced by our exertions. Our visiting minister brought me back from my thoughts as he finished the “hellfire and brimstone” portion of his sermon by slamming his hand onto his Bible and shouting, “If you think its hot tonight, JUST WAIT! Benediction Please!” His admonition drew a good number of amens and hallelujahs, along with a record altar call which may not have been due to his sermon but to the misty cool breeze of the building storm that suddenly cascaded through the windows.
As I limped out to attempt to complete my morning run before church, I could not get thoughts of divisiveness out of my mind. When I arrived back home and watched some of the news programming, the divisiveness became more entrenched in my mind. One should not watch “The Donald” on Meet the Press before church. I continued to ponder divisions as I sat in church, not paying attention to the sermon. For some reason, I thought of a former student who was the strangest mix of religions. He grew up as a Musdu or a Hinlim. Take your pick because I know he didn’t know which one. Mo’s parents (yes, short for Mohammed) migrated LEGALLY to the United States several years before Mo was born. They had grown up and met in an area between Pakistan and India called the princely states of Kashmir and Jammu which have been a bone of contention since the partition of Pakistan and India in 1948. The conflict erupted into a shooting war at times. The problem? First, the states are coveted by Pakistan, India and China but a major issue is…wait a minute…religion. Pakistan is largely Muslim and India is largely Hindu. In Kashmir there is a Muslim majority and in Jammu a Hindu majority. You can probably figure out who wants to be aligned with whom. If you put them together, the population is still largely Muslim. China doesn’t practice either religion and just wants the land. Into this mix “love would spring eternal” in the form of Mo’s Muslim father and Hindu mother and would not be denied. Love would conquer all but it would require a trip of several thousand miles and a huge change in culture. At least, they got away from the in-laws. Mo was a product of his parents and their progressive belief that he should grow up and decide for himself which religious path he would follow. Sometimes you get exactly what you weren’t expecting.
Should you want to interject another religion into this story, Mo looked like a short, round, brown Buddha. Oh no, I just had a vision of Mo as the Buddha sitting in a loincloth. While a product of his parent’s genes, he was his own man and a free thinker who had an extremely rebellious side. You see, Muslims eat no pork, while Hindus eat no beef. In order to display his disdain for his parents’ predominantly vegetarian diet, Mo would periodically stop off at The Clock for a bacon chili cheeseburger; take it home; and eat it in front of his mortified parents who were equally concerned about their son’s soul. According to the Quran, alcohol is forbidden but that didn’t stop Mo from throwing down a brew or five with his burger. Today, Mo has further complicated matters. He has married a Southern Baptist woman. I wonder if he has been publicly dunked and, if he has, my guess is that he still dances.
It concerns me terribly when I hear or see that “all Muslims are terrorists.” I keep wondering if I am missing something because I can’t hear that and not think about Hakeem, Mo’s father, and the few Muslim students that I have taught. None of them would turn out to be terrorists…would they? I despise how judgmental we have become as Christians. “Judge not, lest ye be judged!” Learned that at my grandmother’s knee. “To err is human, to forgive is divine.” In Don’s Evolutionary New Testament Church of Christ, it is not our place in life to judge. If you believe in God, you have been taught that judgement is His responsibility, not ours. Our responsibility is to help those who want to convert. We should not try to force our Christian values down the throats of non-believers. Today, however, I fear many Christians are doing just that!