I'm not giving up my greens or my grits or saying "girl" and putting my hands on my hips. You see.. Life for me ain't been no crystal stair and I'm not giving up Rosa Parks, Fannie Lou Hammer, Mary McCleod-Bethune, Sojourner Truth, Madame C J. Walker, Toni Morrison or Dr. Maya Angelou, 'cause you see, I am a phenomenal woman and I'm not giving my black back.
I'm not giving up my crown, waves, braids, curls, locks, kinks or kente clothe. I'm not giving up the mass choirs, the Sounds of Blackness, Mahalia, Shirley Caesar, Kirk Franklin or Aretha Franklin.
I'm not giving up sitting in Ma'Dear's kitchen eating peach cobbler or sweet potato pie and hearing her ask me, "how you doing baby?"
I'm not giving up going to "You Buy, We Fry" on Fridays, or bar-b-ques on Saturday playing bid wist and slammin' those dominoes.
I'm not giving back Harriet Tubman's train, Soul Train, Coltrane or the midnight train to Georgia.
Now you can meet me at the function at the junction but I still won't give up B.B. King, the Whispers, Fancy Ms. Nancy, Lena Horne, the Philadelphia Sound, Motown or the Temptations, 'cause you see, it's the way we do the things we do, like building the pyramids that still stand made by our forefather's hands where the diamonds, oil, silver and gold are buried in our rich dark land.
I'm not giving my black back!
I'm happy being nappy with my wide hips and my wide nose and the rich melanin in my skin. I love putting lotion on my ashy legs. Oh, I'm happy being nappy and being in the skin that l'm in. I won't deny or forget my ancestors who lay in a wet grave at the bottom of the sea in the middle passage from slave trade. And I won't give up on our youth of today who still need a way made.
I won't give back Miles even though he didn't smile. I won't give back Marvin Gaye, Richard Pryor, Phyllis Hyman, Billie Holiday or Billie Eckstein, Jackie Robinson or Jackie Wilson.
I won't give back the electric slide, Alvin Ailey, Bojangles or Debbie Allen.
You think I'd give up reading my Jet, Ebony, Essence, Emerge, Black Enterprise, Heart and Soul or Upscale magazines?
I'm not giving back Maxine (Waters), Martin, Medgar, Malcolm, Mandela, Marley, Marcus, Muhammad Ali, Michael (Jordan) or the Million Man March.
For we are a colorful people. Like Curtis Mayfield sang, we are a people that are "darker than blue." We are honey, cinnamon, mahogany and chocolate. We are REDD Fox, James BROWN, Barry WHITE, The Mothers of the Church dressed in WHITE, The Color PURPLE, the Lady Who
Sings the BLUES and we are Al GREEN with love and happiness.
Oh, NO... I'm not giving my black back!
HOW TO RECOGNIZE A GOOD BLACK WOMAN
A good Black woman is proud. She respects herself and others. She is aware of who she is. She neither seeks definition from her man, nor does she expect him to read her mind. She is quite capable of articulating her needs. A good Black woman is a strong Black woman. She recognizes that her strength is weakened by attitudes that suggest that she doesn't need a Black man. We all know that is not true. We do need lots of loving, O.K. A good Black woman is hopeful. She is strong enough to make all her dreams come true. She knows love, therefore she gives love. She recognizes that her love has great value and must be reciprocated.
If her love is taken for granted, it soon disappears. A good Black woman has a dash of inspiration and a dabble of endurance. She knows that she will at times have to inspire her Black man to reach the potential God gave him, and she will endure his pain and her
own. A good Black woman knows her past, understands her present and forges toward the future. A good Black woman knows God. She knows that with Him the world is her playground, but without Him she will just be played with. A good Black woman does not live in fear of the future because of her past.
Instead, she understands that her life experiences are merely lessons meant to bring her closer to self-knowledge and unconditional self-love.
11 THINGS BLACK FOLKS SHOULD KNOW AND PRACTICE!
1. Don't quit your job in anger. (In fact, don't quit your job unless you've got another one lined up. The last thing we need is more Black folks standing in the unemployment line.)
2. Stop believing that white people all work together and we don't. (We're always saying that Black folk just can't do nothing together. While we have a lot of work to do in our community, we have to arrest this psychosis which has us believing and repeating the worst of everything ever said about us.)
3. Don't believe all white folk are racist. (Sometimes they're just ignorant, sometimes they're just wrong, and sometimes they just get caught up with all the afflictions that can strike the best of us, even Black folk.)
4. Don't take everything personally.
5. Understand that the hair extensions have to come out sometime. And by the way, if you can sit on them, they're too long anyway!
6. If you own a Black business, and you have one of those posters on the wall that says "Black is beautiful, but business is business," recognize that it's a two-way street. Nobody wants to wait an hour to be seated, a half hour for a glass of water, or have their food come out piecemeal, and then threaten to walk out before they get the check. Respect the Black consumer, and the Black consumer will respect your business.
7. Learn how to disagree without being disagreeable.
8. Buy more books for your kids. (Isn't it shameful that so many Black parents will spend more money on sneakers for their kids than they will on books? So Junebug is fly and no doubt thinks he can fly, but can he read?)
9. If your children don't have summer jobs, how about having them volunteer some time, somewhere? As we were taught, an idle mind is the devil's workshop.
10. Know that race isn't everything, and everything isn't race.
11. Stop quoting the Bible if you are not living your life accordingly. Don't nobody want to hear that! STOP pretending to love Jesus and at the same time disrespecting black folks daily with a show of nasty attitudes. JESUS SAID, "HOW CAN YOU LOVE ME WHOM YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN AND DISRESPECT YOUR BROTHER & SISTER DAILY?" This is a huge problem in the black community, it's called hypocrisy.
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GRATEFUL SLAVE
by Paine`s Torch
copyright 1993-Zeno Press-All Rights Reserved
I am a grateful slave.
My master is a good man.
He gives me food, shelter, work, and other things.
All he requires in return is that I obey him.
I am told he has the power to control my life.
I look up to him,
and wish that I were so powerful.
My master must understand the world better than I,
because he was chosen by many others
for his respected position.
I sometimes complain,
but fear I cannot live without his help.
He is a good man.
My master protects my money from theft,
before and after he takes half of it.
Before taking his half, he says only he can protect my money.
After taking it, he says it is still mine.
When he spends my money,
he says I own the things he has bought.
I don`t understand this, but I believe him.
He is a good man.
I need my master for protection,
because others would hurt me.
Or they would take my money
and use it for themselves.
My master is better than them:
When he takes my money, I still own it.
The things he buys are mine.
I cannot sell them,
or decide how they are used,
but they are mine.
My master tells me so,
and I believe him.
He is a good man.
My master provides free education for my children.
He teaches them to respect and obey him and all future masters they will have.
He says they are being taught well;
learning things they will need to know in the future.
I believe him.
He is a good man.
My master cares about other masters,
who don`t have good slaves.
He makes me contribute to their support.
I don`t understand why slaves must work for more than one master,
but my master says it is necessary.
I believe him.
He is a good man.
Other slaves ask my master for some of my money.
Since he is good to them as he is to me, he agrees.
This means he must take more of my money;
but he says this is good for me.
I ask my master why it would not be better to let each of us keep our own money.
He says it is because he knows what is best for each of us.
We believe him.
He is a good man.
My master tells me:
Evil masters in other places are not as good as he;
they threaten our comfortable lifestyle and peace.
So, he sends my children to fight the slaves of evil masters.
I mourn their deaths,
but my master says it is necessary.
He gives me medals for their sacrifice, and I believe him.
He is a good man.
Good masters sometimes have to kill evil masters and their slaves.
This is necessary to preserve our way of life;
to show others that our version of slavery is best.
I asked my master:
"Why do the evil masters` slaves have to be killed, along with their evil master?"
He said, "Because they carry out his evil deeds."
"Besides, they could never learn our system;
they have been indoctrinated to believe that only their master is good."
My master knows what is best.
He protects me and my children.
He is a good man.
My master lets me vote for a new master, every few years.
I cannot vote to have no master, but he generously
lets me choose between two candidates he has selected.
I eagerly wait until election day, since voting allows me to forget that I am a slave.
Until then, my current master tells me what to do.
I accept this.
It has always been so, and I would not change tradition.
My master is a good man.
At the last election, about half the slaves were allowed to vote.
The other half either broke rules set by the master,
or were not thought by him to be fit.
Those who break the rules
should know better than to disobey!
Those not considered fit should greatfully accept the master chosen for them by others.
It is right because we have always done it this way.
My master is a good man.
There were two candidates.
One received a majority of the vote-
about one-fourth of the slave population.
I asked why the new master can rule over all the
slaves, if he only received votes from one-fourth of them?
My master said:
"Because some wise masters long ago did it that way."
"Besides, you are the slaves and we are the masters."
I did not understand his answer, but I believed him.
My master knows what is best for me.
He is a good man.
Some slaves have evil masters.
They take more than half of their slaves` money and
are chosen by only one-tenth, rather than one-fourth of their slaves.
My master says they are different from him.
I believe him.
He is a good man.
I asked if I could ever become a master, instead of a slave.
My master said, "Yes, anything is possible."
"But first you must pledge allegiance to your present master,
and promise not to abandon the system that made you a slave."
I am encouraged by this possibility.
My master is a good man.
He tells me slaves are the real masters, because they can vote for their masters.
I do not understand this, but I believe him.
He is a good man who lives for no other purpose than to make his slaves happy.
I asked if I could be neither master nor a slave.
My master said, "No, you must be one or the other."
"There are no other choices."
I believe him.
He knows best.
He is a good man.
I asked my master how our system is different from those with evil masters.
He said, "In our system, masters work for the slaves."
No longer confused, I am beginning to accept his logic.
Now I see it!
Slaves are in control of their masters, because
they can choose masters every few years.
When the masters appear to control the slaves in
between elections, it is all a grand delusion!
In reality, they are carrying out the slaves` desires.
For if this were not so,
they would not have been chosen in the last election.
How clear it is to me now!
I shall never doubt the system again.
MY MASTER IS A GOOD MAN
LIFT EVERY VOICE AND SING
by James Weldon Johnson (1900)
Originally written by Johnson for a presentation in celebration of the birthday of Abraham Lincoln. This was originally performed in Jacksonville, Florida, by children. The popular title for this work is:
THE NEGRO NATIONAL ANTHEM
Lift every voice and sing
Till earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise
High as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us,
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun
Let us march on till victory is won.
Stony the road we trod,
Bitter the chastening rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat,
Have not our weary feet
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed?
We have come over a way that with tears have been watered,
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
Out from the gloomy past,
Till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.
God of our weary years,
God of our silent tears,
Thou who has brought us thus far on the way;
Thou who has by Thy might
Led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, Our God, where we met Thee;
Lest, our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee;
Shadowed beneath Thy hand,
May we forever stand.
True to our GOD,
True to our native land...
My Favorite Web Sites
Afrocentric Online
BlackHaven
UrbanCity
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