"Their blackness is what I fear..." | One student's thoughts on the murder of George Floyd

Late last night I posted this picture to our class socials and asked them for their thoughts.

Here is one of my student's reply:

Dr. King on why we can no longer wait

These are Dr. King's words, a small excerpt from his letter from Birmingham Jail to white clergy on why the "Negro" can no longer "wait"...

We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must

be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was “well-timed” in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation.

For years now

I have heard the word “Wait!” It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This “Wait”

has almost always meant “Never.” We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that “justice

too long delayed is justice denied.”

We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God given rights. The nations of Asia

and Africa are moving with jet-like speed toward gaining political independence, but we still creep at

horse and buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those who

have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, “Wait.” But when you have seen vicious mobs

lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen

hate filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast

majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst

of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you

seek to explain to your six year old daughter why she can’t go to the public amusement park that has

just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is

closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental

sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward

white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a fi ve year old son who is asking: “Daddy, why

do white people treat colored people so mean?”; when you take a cross county drive and find it necessary

to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept

you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading “white” and “colored”; when

your first name becomes “nigger,” your middle name becomes “boy” (however old you are) and your

last name becomes “John,” and your wife and mother are never given the respected title “Mrs.”; when

you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe

stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments;

when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of “nobodiness”— then you will understand why

we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no

longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and

unavoidable impatience.

Dear Grandpa Carlton, Uncle Arthur, Uncle Jerry, and Cousin Dave

Dear Grandpa Carlton, (Great) Uncle Arthur, (Great) Uncle Jerry, and Cousin Dave,

Grandpop, you knew me. Every now and then I mention you when reflecting on the Philly teachers in our family. Uncle Arthur, we met way back when my family drove from Philly to Appomattox to retrieve that green car you gave us. Remember? I’m not sure if you knew, but I was 16 and that was my first road trip, driving back up from your house. Cousin Dave, I think we met at your sister’s funeral several years back. Grandpop, I learned today that you, Uncle Arthur, and Cousin Dave served in the U.S. armed forces and even fought in the Korean War. Salute! Uncle Jerry, we never met, but you were a U.S. Merchant Marine? I had to look that up what that meant. Nice! For as much as I love learning about history, I never thought to follow up on who in our family might have fought or served in America’s wars. I know on my dad’s side there are veterans including my pops himself, but I hadn’t considered mom’s side of the family.

I just want to say thank you for your service to this country, older sirs! I can only imagine what it must’ve been like risking it all to serve your country while also being considered third class citizens back home. Grandpop, Uncle Arthur, and Uncle Jerry, you’ve since passed on, but I hope that we can do some small part to keep the memory of your service alive. Cousin Dave, thank you! I hope that your service to this country is reaping all the expressions of gratitude and accolades it deserves, from sea to shining sea!

 

Sincerely,

Your grandson, great-nephew, and second cousin,

Steve (Steve and Jackie’s oldest)

 

P.S. I know three of you weren’t here to see it, but we did experience our first Black Commander-in-Chief. He was the 44^th President of these United States, Barack Obama. We’re far from the struggle being over, though.

MOVE Bombing | One student's mom and uncle lived on Osage

I posted a Philadelphia Inquirer video of a Ramona Africa's and a police officer's MOVE bombing experiences and asked the students to comment and possibly include their parents/grandparents recollections and thoughts.

One student's response in part-

"My mom and uncle said they were living on the block at the time. She said one of her friends was in the house at the time...My mother says she had a good connection with Michael and still talks to Ramona to this day...I feel like that could have been my mom or my uncle in the house. They said that they were coming from the store and just saw a big boom. The city is just messed up for [t]hat."

COVID-19 in NJ's Prisons | Testing at East Jersey State Prison

It has been about three weeks since I last updated you on the COVID-19 situation inside of one New Jersey's prisons from the viewpoint of one of my mentees over at East Jersey State Prison. In some of the latest emails between the neph and I, we tried not bring up the subject. When I told him that I'd heard there was to be mass testing and whether it had started yet, this was his response this past weekend:

"They aint start or do a darn thing... The only thing they did was give us 2 more disposable mask and 1 extra bar of soap. They said that they were going to test us and that hasnt happened yet and I doubt if it does."

Pictured below are the latest stats over at East Jersey and a few other facilities as of 5/8, last Friday night. These numbers do not represent the worst of the COVID-19 situation in New Jersey's corrections system. Head to the website, scroll down, then act.

Email.

Tweet.

Repost.

Call the local papers. 

Ya'MeAn

First, it's just something you say and not really spell, ya'mean*?

I overheard less than 15 seconds of a conversation a neighbor was having on the phone as he was going about his daily walk and as I was unloading the whip.

"Ya'mean. It's just my favorite word."
"I don't know, it's probably the music we listened to, ya'mean" (The real question is, do I insert a "?" or an "!" at the end of that...*inserts thinking emoji*)

Language. I love it! I suppose that's why as a kid through adulthood and into teaching I was enamored by words, their denotations and connotations. Throw in intonation, context, code-switching abilities, multilingualism (d'accord?), the person (a brotha or sista can use certain words around me that those outside of our cultural community cannot), and myriad other languagisms (let me be great for a sec lol) and oh the beauty of language!

Back to the "?" or "!"
Based on his intonation, the sentence could be written, "I don't know, it's probably the music we listened to, ya'mean!"

Speaking of language and code-switching
Any Sanford and Son dvd owner (I have every season) or marathon-watcher might notice Smitty 'translating' quite a bit. Like in this scene...


On Family Feud

Notice sometimes when Black families give an answer on the show that sometimes Steve provides a King's English synonym for the word. I searched far and wide for a snippet to post here, but the internet is too vast, sometimes. Recently a contestant used the word whip. Steve had to let the producers know it means car. *Inserts an "lol" gif here*

In Dunkin' Donuts

Depends. Coffee spot from round the way? Donut holes. Period. DD? Munchkins. Period. Had to help a brotha out one day in DD who asked for donut holes and they were clueless... https://t.co/SPZIsBBICv

— Dr. Stephen R. Flemming (@kellygrade6) July 29, 2019

*Do you know what I mean?