Category Archives: harriett tubman
Friday October 7th was the premiere of the movie Birth Of A Nation and while I knew I was going to view it and psyched myself up to see what was sure to shock my senses in parts, what happened was something different. For me anyway.
That day began in an interesting manner where I had to circumvent and remind a few folks who were so entrenched in how they did things, they forgot education was about the children they purportedly served.
So I was already feeling some kinda funky from a long day filled with meetings, when I pointed my diva mobile in the general direction of the movie theater.
I had two sips of some kind of beverage and some appetizers but I was more engrossed in chatting with many of the folks who I hadn’t met before this screening and a few who knew me Well enough to be prepared for any and all Shenanigans I may spew forth.
After ALL of that preparation, I walked in and settled myself in the very back after taking a deep cleansing breath.
I would NOT be the sister who left disliking all white folks based on what I saw.
Listen. 30 minutes in? I was cringing, tears were flowing down my cheeks,
I was talking to myself and the screen, I called on Jesus more than
A few times and didn’t know IF I would make it through.
Here is what I learned- and let me be clear, you may get something totally different but our past experiences often shape what we see and feel.
I saw a man who was chosen to be a leader who was quiet, caused no trouble, did what his master told him and learned to read because the slave owners wife took an interest in him.
Lesson? Never dismiss people based on what you see. The eyes can be deceptive. Nat Turner had something within, that the outer facade belied and he was therefore trusted in places and spaces that gave him access when the time came.
There is a courage within people
Of African descent that isn’t often depicted anywhere as it serves to remind us that we matter, we are Smart, we Are Resilient and while everyone may not be on board when the time comes to act, it only requires a few to get a movement started.
Watching The constant raping of our women and children at the hands of slave masters, only for those broken women to be sent back to their men afraid, ashamed and hurt to their core, almost put me over the edge.
I also saw the courage, love and anguish of the men, who often risked their lives to protect their families the best way they could. That visual warmed my soul.
We suffered a lot as a people and it continues to present day but we also have more power and able to make choices instead of waffling in mired hurt and pain alone.
Many are called, FEW are chosen. We all have a purpose in this life and our one job is to find it and then follow.
Nat Turner and many others lost their lives
For that insurgence but it sparked a revolution that changed slavery after he died.
We MUST make it our business to learn
About our history and stop waiting for it to become
Curriculum in schools. There are too many books, not to
For that to even be an excuse any longer.
As a woman, I walk every day with the ancestry of Nanny of the Maroons from Jamaica whose blood runs through my veins. I am steeped in my culture in a way that serves as a reminder that I can and will continue to achieve with alacrity and I must serve those around me with same.
We had a discussion after the movie and I left wondering who were to two or three who would actually step beyond the emotions to spark the next movement.
There were a few Caucasian students from Arcadia university who watched the movie and I could FEEL the palpable
Discomfort coming from a couple. I walked right over to them and reminded them to not leave here feeling guilty but rather enlightened on how they could help to make this a better America for us all.
That movie shook my very core- but it did something that was so much more. It was confirmation in a way that I in particular needed.
Go see it. It’s worth every penny and the lessons are priceless.
Deuces and mad love,
Please bear with me. Just for a few moments.
Early this morning, in an effort to make myself sleepy, I began watching the Real Housewives of Atlanta. I know, poor choice but I figured since they were visiting Savannah Georgia and all its rich historical content, it could not be too bad.
Oh. My. Goodness.
So there I was, listening to a tour guide tell the ladies about the Underground railroad beneath the oldest African American Church in the country and pointed to the tiny holes in the floor where the slaves would put their faces for a little fresh air on their journey. I am sitting there imagining what that must have been like back then, when one of the women, whose name is Porscha, said this; ” How did they fit a train down there?”
I literally fell OUT my bed in horror!!! What?
As the women were patiently explaining to her that what she thought was this
is actually this,
she stood there looking at THEM as if they had no sense but in my head I was thinking ” Any moment now, this will all register to her.”
No such luck. She kept saying things like ” How did they build railroad tracks under the church?” and “How did the trains go through without making too much noise?” My favourite? ” Who was the conductor?” Seriously?
I closed my eyes firmly and could actually see Harriett Tubman’s bones come fully to life as she sat up in her grave and said ” What the fragglenackle? Who is this chile, why is she so ignorant in this day and age and did I really go through all of this and die to have my ears offended after all these years at the end of my struggle?” The visual I caught of Harriet was this and rightly so….Pissed.
I could see her ( Tubman) taking some raggedy, dusty cloths soaked in muddy water and slapping some much need sense into Porscha’s empty head. Pretty and coiffed but empty.
How in the WORLD did this woman ( Portscha) go through all those years of school, had a grandfather who knew all about the Civil rights movement and made a name for himself in the work and she knew zip, zilch, zero, NADA about the underground railroad??? What else did she NOT know? But this is the same woman that said there were 366 days in a year so….This just takes “ratchet” to whole new level…
Porscha can tell you about the latest fashions, how to look beautiful etcetera but has yet to hold a conversation intelligent enough that does not leave heads spinning in horror. I can’t even blame public education because her family should have been certain to impart this most important information to her. I am almost positive they did, so where was her head all those years when the stories were being shared?
That level of ignorance is beyond inexcusable and a lesson in what we all must know about History in order to be clearly present and accountable.. Not just the history of our own culture but to soak in others as well because it all weaves intricately into the fabric of present day.
As I kept watching in suicidal fascination to my poor brain cells, it all began to make sense why Porscha was so dense and had no clue about so many things that should be elementary to the average person. Someone told her, she didn’t have to be anything but beautiful, find a rich husband and be the perfect wife. They did her a huge disservice and the fall- out from that is playing itself out among millions each week.
All I can say is this; do not let Porscha become you. Intelligent conversation is a must. We all want to be examples to others. Just not like this. Never like this.
A child with out an Education, is like a football player without a helmet. Porscha left her helmet at home and this is the end result.