50 years

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Comment by Cynthia Adcock on February 13, 2010 at 2:17pm

Several memories come to mind, tho I'm not sure exactly what they signify:
* When we were living in Houston, TX, 1964-6, our friendship group was about half black, half white. The African-Americans included a gay couple, the first that I had ever known. I will never forget the amazing warmth and ease with which the two guys hosted a Thanksgiving dinner for the group. I think, looking back, where did they find such spiritual power, living on the margins of a racist society?
* I remember the amazing courage, power and eloquence of Martin Luther King, Jr., speaking against the Vietnam War at Riverside Church in NYC, at a time when such opposition was still rare;
* I remember the day King was assassinated: I was teaching an all-black class in American history at Philadelphia Community College, and I had to tell the students what had happened. We cried and talked, and as I drove one student home afterwards, she asked me, "Ms Adcock, what do white people want from us? I had to say "I do not know."
* I remember the Poor Peoples Campaign and the encampment on the Mall in DC in (?) 1968, after King was assassinated. I remember the joy and determination of the people there, the hopefulness that out of suffering could come liberation, equality, and respect for human dignity.
* I remember my friend Pat doing her dissertation on the lingering effects of slavery on the four generations of her family since emancipation--and I remember how, in the end, she documented an almost triumphal assertion of the values of education, hard work, and family togetherness.
I find myself believing that African-Americans have so many lessons to teach the rest of us.

Comment by Sharon G. Williams on February 12, 2010 at 9:54pm

I can tell you another story.

My dad, John Williams had a nickname as a kid growing up in Pittsburgh, PA. His name was Jack. One day, Jack brought a little African American boy home to play. My grandmother Ruth didn't know my dad was bringing home a friend. She discovered Jack and his African American friend in the living room. The little boy was playing the piano wonderfully so much so that my grandmother later recalled that it was some of the most beautiful music she had ever heard. She let him finish playing the piano and then immediately escorted the little African American boy out of the house. I don't know if my grandmother wrongly told the boy never to come back to see Jack again. But, I think she did tell my father not to see his friend again. She was wrong about that. I think to myself what must my father have thought at the loss of his friend? What did the little African American Boy think? He must have been very hurt and confused. It is sad to see racism separate two friends.

Comment by June Herold on February 10, 2010 at 4:49pm

I have three memories:
1. Mexican laborers "were not allowed at the table." It was 1975 and Mexican immigrants worked long hours in a condo development under a hot sun in a Chicago suburb. They ran out of water. They turned to the spigots on the condo buildings to replenish their canisters. Some residents refused access to them. I was ashamed to be living in that development in that moment. I was 14 years old, stunned and felt the moment was surreal for it's lack of compassion.

2. Junior High, 1973, we were studying a unit on American History. I had an African American friend, Jocelyn. We were looking through photographs from the period, for an assignment that was about Americans in the 1800s. The pictures were all of white people.

3. Jubilee this past fall at UUCAVA: It caused me to pause and recommit: We had an exercise which involved writing moments down from African American History. I had great trouble remembering them. And it bothered me. I intentionally studied the history of African Americans and also women's history while in college. In fact I had nearly enough credits for a history degree because of the work. But when I stood next to Desda discussing what was missing from the time line, I drew a blank and Desda reeled off events. I was embarrassed. How could I not remember? Easy, my white experience since graduating college has not reinforced my education. I know that my studies had a profound impact on my intuition, worldview and commitment to mentor and coach young people, but inspiration and wisdom often come from a deeper understanding of the details and the significance of them. I have since pulled a number of books from my shelves to re-read and also have purchased a few new ones. Thank you Desda for your patience.

Comment by Sharon G. Williams on February 8, 2010 at 9:08pm

I didn't live during the time of American Apartheid. I wasn't even born during that time but I am an heir to that legacy. It amazes me how much Americans don't know about their history especially when it comes to the history of African Americans in the United States. In 2007, the Virginia legislature apologized for slavery, it was indeed a noble gesture, long, long overdue. There have been many injustices done to African Americans in Virginia both known and yet to be uncovered. In 1951, seven black men from Martinsville, Va. were executed for the rape of one white woman. It was the largest mass execution for rape in U.S. history. Although in the whole history of the United States, no white man had ever been executed for the rape of a African American woman, these boys (five were teenagers) were electrocuted. Around the world, they became known as the Martinsville Seven. (The true story of the Seven has yet to be told.)

In 1959, in Prince Edward County, Va., the public schools were closed for five years because white folks did not want to integrate. A private school was built for the white kids, and the black kids had to go elsewhere or forgo their education. Most were forced to choose the later.

Did anyone in UUCA go one of the private schools during that time?

White Americans constantly tell us black Americans to “get over” slavery. How does one “get over” history when an entire community doesn't even acknowledge that a crime was committed against an entire group of people? The family members of these young men don't even know the whole story about what happened to the Martinsville Seven.