Christmastime in Harlem

 

 

Party-Rico 2016!

 

 

A Balm in Gilead

The day after the election of "he who shall not be named" a group of 7th graders bounded into my classroom excitedly asking, "What did you think of the election Ms. Cardwell?  Are you moving to Canada?"  Forgetting my audience, I replied "we survived slavery; we will survive this."

It was a hard week; despite the fact that many of my students were vocal Clinton supporters, I did not feel like discussing politics. The first day I taught the Langston Hughes poem "Let America be America Again" and compared his vision of America's mythological past to the President elect's.  The second day we read "The Lottery" and discussed the electoral college in the context of  examining the danger of tradition.  I can admit that much of what I was trying to communicate went over their heads.  After all, many of them have nothing real at stake in the election.  Aside from being rich and  (mostly) white, they are thirteen.

On Sunday, thanks to a birthday gift from Tahira and Jim,  Chloe and I were lucky enough to attend Kathleen Battle's performance of  Underground Railroad: a Spiritual Journey at The Metropolitan Opera. The experience was cathartic and much needed.  Seeing a black woman on stage kicking aside her floor length burgundy gown with a diamond encrusted heel while singing "Wade in the Water" gave me strength!

And I don't even have words for when Cicely Tyson came out to read Sojourner Truth's "Ain't I a Woman" in a silver wig and a blue organza gown!

Black people certainly showed up and showed out for Kathleen Battle, making up significantly more than half of the audience. There were bald heads, head wraps, and full head weaves;  Kinte cloth hoop skirts, tuxedos, and lots of fur!  One person sitting next to me lamented about people coming to The Met wearing "dungarees" knowing damn well they are called jeans.  The shade was real. Hilarious!

Chloe got lots of compliments on her crewcuts dress!

Equally (and deliciously) shady was the diva herself.  She steeped onto stage over 30 minutes late showing cleavage AND bare back.  Tossing her golden shawl to and fro she  immediately began directing  the choir, even though there were two choir directors.  Returning to The Met after being fired in the 90's for "unprofessional actions," Ms. Battle made it clear before the show even started that it was her stage and her show- and that she planned to run it as she saw fit.

At various times in the performance, Ms. Battle glared at a choir member and pointed at her throat,  directed one of her two piano players to quiet down, and even gestured to the audience.  Toward the end of the show people began to clap along to one of the more fast paced gospel songs, and she SHUT THAT RIGHT DOWN! Pointing to her ears with both hands she instructed the audience to listen and reminded us that this was The Met and not church! Minutes later she had the entire audience stand for "Lift Every Voice and Sing" and held up the lyrics in the program letting us know that now was our time to be a part of her show!  The entire audience of the Met standing for the Negro National Anthem was a powerful feeling.

The music itself was wonderful and I'm sure that I embarrassed Chloe rocking back and forth and singing along, which is quite unlike me.  When Ms. Battle sang "I've Been 'Buked and I've Been Scorned" she voiced the collective sadness everyone in the audience.   Her voice was a more airy and delicate soprano than I expected, and she often puffed on what looked like a sparkly inhaler.  In the second half of the performance Ms. Battle left most of the vocal heavy lifting to members of the magnificent choir.   However, as if to dispel any talk of fading glory, Ms. Battle sang multiple encores with just a harp and piano.

All and all it was a 3.5 hour show;  it reminded me that the purpose of spirituals was resistance-both physical and emotional.  The only two words Ms. Battle spoke were "For Tamir Rice" before she sang "Mary had a Baby."  We survived slavery; we will survive this.



Check out more pictures from The Met at my new favorite website LAST NIGHT AT the MET

Floor to Ceiling Blackness: Kerry James Marshall @ The MET Bruer

Mastry, a retrospective of works of art by Kerry James Marshall, features more than 75 paintings and photographs. Marshall's work depicts men and women painted in various shades of black (Marshall has created seven separate tones).  Vibrant color and gold glitter enhance the beauty and power of his subjects.  During our recent visit to the exhibit, Chloe pointed out that many of the paintings almost look 3-D, owing to Marshall's skill at creating the illusion of depth in his work.  

Marshall's paintings tell the story of blacks in America, focusing on less well known aspects of that history:  instead of depicting cotton fields, he focuses on slave rebellion.  Instead of painting overt racial violence he illustrates restrictive housing covenants.  His work shows the private and public spaces in which blacks operate where whites exist on the periphery, if at all.  Ironically, there were very few people of color at the exhibit on the Sunday Chloe, my mother, and I visited.   Stepping off the elevator and being greeted with floor to ceiling blackness is worth the price of the ticket.  Go see it!

Kerry James Marshall: Mastry

The MET Breuer

October 25th-January 29th 2017

I'm a Lucky Girl!

"When do we start?"

Huh? No greeting? No initial compliment designed to catch my attention and signal that the games had begun. Simply . . .

"When do we start?" 

Roberto's first message on match.com gave me the impression that he was talking to several women at once and getting us mixed up (he swears he wasn't).  Consequently,  I didn't approach him with the wild romanticism that had been my hallmark. However, he was handsome and he messaged me first so I responded. 

Our first messages were pretty standard internet dating fare: exaggerating how much we exercise, talking about favorite restaurants and tv shows, pretending that we exited all of our past relationships with grace, and that all doors had been closed kindly, but firmly behind us.

He set up our first date right away (in the realm of internet dating if you don't meet right away you risk falling for a figment of your imagination). He was at the restaurant before I was and I saw him sitting by the window.  He gave me a cursory head nod through the glass, and when I sat down his body language told me that he was not interested. I feared that I would not see him again, but he slowly warmed up and then he asked,

"When am I going to see you again?"

In the year since our first date Roberto and I have had plenty of adventures.  The thing that I appreciate the most about him is that he is an introvert like I am, but he researches and plans interesting, fun things for us to do.  We have been to Broadway plays and dine in movie theaters; outlet shopping and a trip to the Poconos. We have walked across The Brooklyn Bridge and visited every Botanical Garden in the city.  We have travelled to Brooklyn just for ice cream and visited every playground recommended by Timeout New York and Mommy Poppins. Roberto's investment of time in our relationship and his desire to please me is what makes him special. 

I would like to be able to share a secret formula for landing a man like Roberto; a list of dos and don'ts for being in a good relationship. Unfortunately, I have no such wisdom to share. Timing worked in our favor.  Like every relationship, we have bad days when the consequences of our prior relationship choices make life challenging. At times our children struggle to understand where they fit in with each other.  Occasionally, he speaks to me in his cop voice, I respond in my teacher voice and he gets scared and backs down (ha ha).  However, through difficult transitions I have never seen him lose his temper.  That’s what makes him such a good cop.  He understands the art of negotiation. 

My life was good before Roberto and it has only become more full since he has come into it. Here's to another amazing year!

Roberto made this video to celebrate our first year together!

Gloria Naylor January 25 1950- September 28, 2016

Now, I’m gonna tell you about cool.  It comes with the cultural territory: the beating of the bush drum, the rocking of the slave ship, the rhythm of the hand going from cotton sack to cotton row and back again.  It went on to settle into the belly of the blues, the arms of Jackie Robinson, and the head of every ghetto kid who lives to a ripe old age.  You can keep it, you can hide it, you can blow it  - but even when your ass is in the tightest crack, you must never, ever, LOSE it.

-Gloria Naylor, Mama Day

The Past Is The Present

I remember being in high school when The Lion King debuted on Broadway.  I was at a friend's house when her mother returned home from opening night.  We asked her opinion of the show and her response was "It was good; it wasn't embarrassing."  I remember feeling relieved but also struck by how low the barometer for art featuring black people had fallen.  Whether or not something was "embarrassing" defined its value. 

Unfortunately, twenty years later embarrassment lurks around every digital corner.  On one television station women shaped like bottom heavy Barbie dolls argue over who is the "baddest bitch."  On another, politicians use thinly disguised code words to speak about us, but not to us.  Social media is no less treacherous as we mindlessly "like"and repost videos of black men taking their last breaths and women hawking detox tea,  waist trainers, teeth whiteners and wigs.  We are reduced to our body parts: asses, teeth, hair and bleeding hearts, as we have been throughout history.  As Solange says, "I'm weary of the ways of the world."

As the media is fixated with Nate Parker and his mediocre film Birth of a Nation, Ava DuVernay has debuted both a documentary and a television show on Netflix and OWN respectively.  13th and Queen Sugar are both beautiful and painful works of art that reflect the complexity of being black in America.

I might be the only person who didn't love DuVernay's movie Selma, but 13th is truly masterful.  It's not that DuVernay presents any "new" information about race and the criminal justice system in this film, but the way that she provides historical context to a contemporary problem is what makes it compelling.  The documentary seeks to explain why a nation with only 5% of the world's population  has 25% of the world's prison population.  Her project is to examine the implications of the fact that the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution banned slavery except in the case of those convicted of a crime.  It traces the progression from slavery to chain gangs; from black codes to the suppression of the Civil Rights Movement; from the War on Drugs to the expansion of the criminal justice system.  Interestingly, she describes "crimmigration," or  the current trend of detaining and criminalizing immigration as part of this continuum.

One of the most disturbing parts of this documentary is a montage where Donald Trump's comments about "the good old days" are layered over footage of Civil Rights activists being attacked in the 1950's and 60's, and scenes of protestors being assaulted during his rallies today.  The film makes it clear that the language (and subtext) that Trump is using to galvanize white voters has a long history.  Make no mistake, 13th is not an political ad for the Democratic Party.  The blame for mass levels of incarceration caused by The Three Strikes Law, mandatory minimums and the militarization of police is placed squarely on the shoulders of Bill Clinton.  

Although the topic of this documentary is heartbreaking, DuVernay uses a diverse group of academics and activists to tell the story.  Black intellectuals including Angela Davis, Michelle Alexander, Henry Louis Gates Jr., and  Van Jones ensure that the picture of black America painted by the film is reflective of the diversity of our community.  If I didn't know with 100% certainty that I would be fired for showing this film, it would be part of my American History Social Studies curriculum.  It is a must see.

On a (somewhat) lighter note, this summer I enjoyed Greenleaf on OWN,  and Queen Sugar is even better.  Loosely based on the novel by Natalie Baszile,  Queen Sugar is the story of  three siblings who reunite after the death of their father, a struggling sugarcane farmer.  The story is set in Louisiana and captures the family's attempt to produce a crop while negotiating their relationships with each other.  DuVernay uses this story to explore social issues such as sexual consent, gender identity, and the criminalization of black men.  It portrays the complexity of black love, both familial and romantic.   The characters are deeply flawed, but they are complicated and multi-dimensional.  They engage with their environment, rather than simply absorbing and reacting to the negative aspects of it.  

Rutina Wesley annoyed the heck out of me chasing after Sookie in Trueblood, but she is excellent in Queen Sugar

It's not Huxtable like perfection I seek in art, but depth and range.  DuVernay's work makes it safe to turn on the computer and television again.

Nikki-Rosa

childhood remembrances are always a drag   

if you’re Black 

you always remember things like living in Woodlawn   

with no inside toilet 

and if you become famous or something 

they never talk about how happy you were to have   

your mother 

all to yourself and 

how good the water felt when you got your bath   

from one of those 

big tubs that folk in chicago barbecue in   

and somehow when you talk about home   

it never gets across how much you 

understood their feelings 

as the whole family attended meetings about Hollydale 

and even though you remember 

your biographers never understand 

your father’s pain as he sells his stock   

and another dream goes 

And though you’re poor it isn’t poverty that 

concerns you 

and though they fought a lot 

it isn’t your father’s drinking that makes any difference   

but only that everybody is together and you 

and your sister have happy birthdays and very good   

Christmases 

and I really hope no white person ever has cause   

to write about me 

because they never understand 

Black love is Black wealth and they’ll 

probably talk about my hard childhood 

and never understand that 

all the while I was quite happy

-Nikki Giovanni

On My Nightstand

It was a big summer for black writers with the publication of several highly anticipated and critically acclaimed novels.  I discovered many of these books on the Instagram Well Read Black Girl.  Here are a few of my favorites:

1. Here Comes the Sun, by Nicole Dennis-Benn

Here Comes the Sun is about a trio of women living in Jamaica struggling to better their lives.  The novel explores issues of class, color, and sexuality, but it is really about the commodification of the female body-first by force and then by choice.  Here Comes the Sun strikes the perfect balance between being readable and thought-provoking.  If you are interested in stories about the complicated dynamic between mothers and daughters, read this novel.

2. Behold the Dreamers, by Imbolo Mbue

Behold the Dreamers is especially timely considering the current state of election politics.   It tells the story of  a family from Cameroon who immigrates to the United States and develops a relationship with the family that they come to work for.  For most of the book I was afraid that it would devolve into a tale of "magical Africans" whose presence transforms the lives of the wealthy, but dysfunctional, family that they work for.  Fortunately, this novel is not that.   

3.  Another Brooklyn, by Jacqueline Woodson 

  

Another Brooklyn is a short poetic novel describing the narrator's coming of age in the 1970's.  It is about the strength of female friendships and the danger of beauty when it develops before it its power is fully understood.  As I felt this book coming to a close, I immediately knew that as soon as I had read the last word, I would start reading it again from the beginning.  It was as if I had been introduced to people that I needed to get to know better.

Happy Reading!

My Favorite Short Stories

After an eventful summer I am preparing myself for the upcoming school year by thinking about my favorite short stories to read and teach.

"Jumping Monkey Hill," by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
A writer attends a conference in South Africa in this story from one of my favorite collections "The Thing Around Your Neck."
Read it here

"Stone Mattress," by Margaret Atwood
An aging beauty seeks revenge against an ex-lover.
Read it here

"The Space Traders," by Derrick Bell
Aliens arrive in America and want to take all black people back with them. Seriously timely.
Read it here

"The Story of an Hour," by Kate Chopin
A woman receives unexpected news in this thought provoking and ahead of its time short story.
Read it here

"The Most Dangerous Game," by Richard Connell
Action packed and great for teaching literary devices.
Read it here

"The Landlady," by Roald Dahl
Roald Dahl at his creepiest; a favorite with middle-school students.
Read it here

"Between the Pool and the Gardenias," by Edwidge Dandicat
Also read "Children of the Sea" from the author's classic collection Krik? Krak! 
Read it here

"The Cheater's Guide to Love," by Junot Diaz
Read this if you've ever been cheated on and immediately feel better; it's like a magic pill!
Read it here

"The Lottery," by Shirley Jackson
A powerful reflection on society and human nature.
Read it here

"The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas," by Ursula LeGuin
A story without a plot whose theme will stay with you long after you have finished it.
Read it here

"Recitatif," by Toni Morrison
Toni Morrison never specifies the race of the main characters and our assumptions reveal our racial biases.
Read it here

"Everything That Rises Must Converge," by Flannery O'Connor
A great story for teaching irony.  Classic.
Read it here

"Examination Day," by Henry Seslar
You know a short story is good when it is made into a Twilight Zone episode.
Read it here

"The Tell Tale Heart," by Edgar Allen Poe
One of my favorites from 9th grade.
Read it here

"Fish Cheeks," by Amy Tan
Tan writes about two of my favorite topics: identity and food.
Read it here

"The Man Who Was Almost a Man," by Richard Wright
A 6th grader introduced me to this story and I'm glad he did.
Read it here

"Harrison Bergeron," Kurt Vonnegut
A thought provoking read about a future in which everyone is equal.
Read it here

Happy Reading!