Tag: survival

Black Experience, books, reading

The Love Songs of W.E.B. DuBois by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers

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If there was ever a book that you should read to learn of how other’s lives have been lived, this is it. This epic tale – but you are never sure exactly who the hero is. You are introduced to many individuals, all who sing a different song. None of the songs are named, but each time you see a new title page with SONG, you know the speaker has changed. It is through all these voices that moves this story along, even if not linearly. You are introduced to many people, at different times in history, in different orders. None of this makes sense until you are almost at the end. You are faced with information on the many terrible things that humans are capable of, even those that are supposed to love and protect you.  


We are introduced to the Creek Indians, those that inhabited the land. White men from Europe come and took away their land as if they had never been there. They brought slaves to do their work. And through their arrogance and ego, they abused these men and women. They sowed not only the seeds of cotton and tobacco, but also of themselves. Mixed races are common, but never acknowledged by the white men that made them.

This history of a people is complex and confusing. The book reflects this in the intertwined stories of sisters, generations, family, tragedies, and fears. Throughout the book, however, Uncle Root, an educated Black man with a doctorate in History, understands that the history of the family comes from the women. He extolls the strength of Black women especially, because the burdens they have carried is so heavy.

I can never imagine having lived this history and surviving it. The brutality and ongoing ramifications are horrifying. The truth of these pains and these slights are not shied away from to make it easier for someone else to read it. The racism that still exists within the hallowed halls of education and throughout the country is astounding. I am humbled that I have probably erred without knowing or understanding, and I hope that I will not make the same mistakes again.

This book challenges you. You need to understand that we are the sum of our ancestors, as well as our times. While this book is well over 750 pages, I never once wanted to skim a page, because I was so involved in the number of people we are introduced to. I felt the pain of loss, the pain of betrayal, and the pain of self-doubt. This was worth every single page – and there is not a word I would keep out to make it shorter. We need to do the work to understand what these families have endured, and continue to endure. Until we face it and learn, things will not change.

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All the broken places

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Guilt and complicity. What you have done and what you have not done. Both are things that can torment people. I had heard John Boyne speak about his book All the Broken Pieces , and was intrigued by the idea of what you are complicit of allowing versus what you have committed – and how the sins of the parent are cast on the child. All these ideas led me to buy this book.

I admit, I never read the first book, The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas.  I also admit I had no idea of the backlash – that the book was considered controversial in its way of conveying the atrocities

The story is simplistic, while trying to deal with complex issues. Gretel grew up faithful to the Third Reich, proud of the part her family played in it, including her father’s role as commander of Auschwitz. As Gretel’s mother states, it was the Jewish problem – first the problems they made for Germans that forced the need for extermination, and then for the problems they wouldn’t stop talking about after the camps were closed – that were a disgrace. Gretel, however, understood the terrible things her father had led. She knew her place in allowing this to happen, even as she hid behind “I was only a child” excuses.  This was underscored in the book by others excuses – they were only following orders or they didn’t know anything about it. Being forced to see the horrors by the French Underground, other Nazi hiders, documentary films and camp survivors, Gretel understood she would live with guilt for the rest of her life. She kept her true self away from others. She tried to atone for the sins she knew, in the only way she knew how.

As the parts of history are unraveled, and the new realities of cruelty she faced within her own building, Gretel finally takes action – to not be one that stands by doing nothing, fulfilling her destiny as she and others had hoped it would be. It is, however, a destiny that is rooted in violence – acting on the brutality of her father’s answers for solving a “problem.”   

I felt this was an interesting read. I am glad I have taken my time to read this. With so much hatred in the world, in the US particularly, understanding the need to stand up and speak out is just as important as jumping into the fight directly.  While I understand that it only glimpses at the true horrors that were experienced by those that were taken and lost their lives at these camps, I don’t believe this story is about them. As in every story, there are always two sides. You do not need to agree with them both, but to ignore them is to do the same thing the Germans did to the Jews. Not all Germans are monsters, just as not all Jews are bad. For me, it is Gretel’s final decision to act with brutality to solve a problem that doesn’t make her a saviour but that allows her to accept she is her father’s child.

Black Experience, books, read around the world, reading

Hate has too many places to live: Abyssinian Chronicles / Uganda

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Written as a novel, this is a semi-autobiographical tale of a family’s existence in Uganda in the 20th century. The racial, religious, gender and economic strife is all here. The story begins in a confusing way, setting the stage to meet the main character. At approximately 100 pages in I finally figured out when and who we were supposed to be focusing on. The historical information on the family, however, was needed to make the next 300 pages make sense.

Set in Uganda, we are introduced to the deep-rooted Catholic church’s influence, as well as the Muslim and Pagan traditions. These traditions tend to mix together, with some being incorporated into others. The influences of the outside cultures, Catholic and Muslim, is due to the evangelical history of Ethiopia (formerly Abyssinia) and the traders from the Middle East that came with the British. This becomes important when the reign of Idi Amin begins.  

Having an understanding of the history of Uganda would have helped, but this was covered in the first 100 pages through how the family members were impacted. The politics were not the focus, but the impact on the family. Information on what was happening was not central to living lives in the villages at that time. Early in the 20th century the tsetse fly spread a “sleeping sickness” pandemic, killing approximately 300,000. 1962 brought independence from Britain, the first election bringing Dr Milton Obote to power. 1967 brought a new constitution, giving more power to the Prime Minister, Obote. In 1971 Idi Ami overthrew the government and began a reign of terror – killing anyone that did not agree with him. Then the war with Tanzania, which Amin lost, and Obote returned to run a country that was decimated economically and ecologically. A new “plague”, HIV/AIDS then swept the African country.

The story starts in the time of independence, with the beginning being like the sleeping sickness – slow but gotten through. The family is a macrocosm of the country. Serenity (the son of a clan elder that had no interest in leading) and Padlock (a woman that was too brutal with her charges as a nun that led her to be thrown out of the nunnery) were the first despots that we encounter. Padlock required complete obedience from her children, and was brutal in enforcing her rule, while Serenity allowed this to happen as long as he was not impacted.   Mugezi, their eldest son, was never liked by Padlock and took the brunt of her hatred. He learned early on how to survive, instigate, and infuriate those in power. Padlock gets her way to send Mugezi to become a priest. Within the church walls, however, the next set of despots is found, with upperclassmen terrorizing the new students as the priests look the other way, or the controlling nature of the priest to have feasts of good food while the students watched and received mealy porridge.   

Through all of these tests, Mugezi learns how to survive, profit and exact revenge. These skills are what will allow him to survive the ongoing tragedy he is living through. To the very end, Mugezi relies upon his understanding of human nature and his ability to leverage this while not being too greedy.

This story is not easy to read. Awash with violence, the value of human life is cheap. The outright bigotry, of whites against blacks, blacks against Indians, Catholic versus Muslim, is prominent – the white Priest calling the black ministry students monkeys, the glee of the blacks when the Indians were deported, the smugness of the Catholics that only sinners got the “slimming” sickness (AIDS) – are all in the open. The hatred for each of the “others” is breathtaking in strokes, and the root of the cause of so much destruction. I kept looking for hope at the end, but I am not sure I found it.

While this book was well written, you need to be able to handle the horrors that are brought forth. I read this book at a time when I am personally struggling with the ongoing exposure of the deep hatred that remains in the Unites States. The fact that this has never gone away, or truly lessened for those that believe and teach this hatred is overwhelmingly depressing for me. In a world that has become so connected, how does this hatred of others still exist? As with Uganda, the answers are tied in not only racial issues, but are complicated by economic, religious and gender constraints also. These are all entangled and cannot be separated. We need brave souls to stand together to work toward a total solution that is based in respect for human life and beliefs. In 2022 they say there is much to look forward to for Uganda. I hope that is true there, and everywhere else in this world.

Black Experience, books, reading

The book of lost friends

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This is a book with at least two stories, all that intersect around family, and history.  We start meeting Benedetta Silva, known as Benny as she starts her first job teaching at a poor rural school in Louisiana to help pay off her student debt.  Although she is white, she is living in poverty until her first paycheck arrives.  She is intimidated by the unruly teens that await her, fighting with each other, and never listening.  She tries everything to get them engaged, even buying treats for those that are hungry from her low salary. 

Next we meet Hannie and her slave family were being moved from Louisiana to Texas by a relative to keep them from being set free.  Out of sight of the owners, the relative starts to sell off the family in ones or twos the whole way there.  The last to be sold, Hannie finally gets the buyer to understand that she was stolen and sold away from her rightful owner.  Along the way, she had kept track of who was sold where, in the hopes to reunite with them in the future.

As we follow Hannie, who is returned to the original plantation alone but strikes out as a sharecropper with a few other slaves that had remained, we see that she is smart and resourceful.  Lavinia, the plantation owner’s pampered daughter, meets with Juneau Jane, the plantation owner’s mulatto daughter by his mistress.  Afraid that Lavinia’s arrival meant that the head of the Gossett plantation was dead, Hannie listens in to find out what is happening because there was only one year left on the lease before the sharecropping land was to be free and clear for her and those working it.  The three end up in an odyssey to find the father, to determine who was entitled to what property.  At one point the three end up in a church, where the walls were covered in posters of letters to friends, where people were looking to reconnect with those that had been sold away. 

Benny, who is renting out a home near the plantation because it was the cheapest she could find, needs help when the roof starts to leak. Through this challenge, Benny meets marvelous women that have kept the community together and give Benny hope for surviving.  Through the stories that Benny hears from Mrs T, she decides that this is the story that would resonate with her students, and asks her to come and tell it to the kids.  The kids are hooked and come up with a way to bring the stories to life.  While not approved by the school board, made up of rich white folks, the stories are coming from the Carnegie Library, a source of pride of the community at one time.  Facing a threatening police force, and the school board that sends their own kids to a private school instead, Benny is told to just let the kids get a vocational education as they were not better than that. 

Throughout the chapters flipping between the two, actual letters written and sent are included.  These had been published in the Southern Methodist newspaper and was shared via pulpits across the country.  The heartwrenching stories behind each of these hit home for me.  I did not know that these adverts had been created for people to finds each other in the late 1800 – early 1900s.  I did, however, understand these completely.  As a Jew, I am fully aware that after WWII, the same was happening in the displacement camps throughout Europe with people searching for any connections that may be left.  It is the guilt at being alive, combined by the fear of being alone, that makes these so sad.  While the longing is always there, sometimes it is easier not to ask the question for fear of the answer.

That also is true when it comes to a hard past.  In the Louisiana is the reality that slavery did happen.  Ancestors we part.  But in order to remain in power, the stories and intimidation continued.  It is this need to keep the power structure as it is, and the fear of what will happen if it is not, that keeps the true history of the plantation and those that lived on it.  Until you face the choices that you made, good or bad, and acknowledge them, you are doomed to spend your life covering up for them. 

books, reading, Uncategorized

A Travelling American

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Travel, whether for work or for pleasure, can be a chore. Away from your home, your family, your normal routines, you focus on where you are and how to fill the time. Especially if you are waiting in a crowded airport when your plane is delayed.  In this current trip, uncomfortably still on crutches, going through security I realized my ereader, just updated with four new titles, remained safely in the docking station in my home office. Travelling with only work equipment, I scramble to download something to read that will download to my personal phone. It is in this frame of mind that I started to read An American Marriage by Tayari Jones.

The title is a bit misleading – while this chronicles the story of a marriage, it is actually a study in the strengths and limits of love, in all different shapes and forms.  The story begins with Roy and Celestial. By mapping out the relationship by way of different perspectives, you see that these two have entered marriage with different expectations. They play at being married, sparring over everything, and not truly understanding the “communion” of the institution. Both come from homes based upon second chances, surrounded full of love and commitment. Then the scary reality of being a black man in the wrong place at the wrong time, the pair is forced to face the hardship of a forced but unjust separation.

As the years go by, life charges on. Trying to survive on the promise of dreams, finding strength within oneself to pursue them alone, and realizing the foundation of the marriage was not as strong as expected changes both. The stories told from both perspectives bring the realization that the base of the marriage was lacking, provoking guilt, grief and denial at different times.

These same revelations are shown when the stories turn to the parents. Big Roy and Olive were entirely devoted to each other. Olive had been through the passion and came through the fire alone with her son. When she met Roy, after making it clear it was a package deal, they made a commitment to each other. And the devotion continued to be shown each day until the last, when Big Roy made sure that Olive was buried by the one who loved her most, filling in the grave himself. Similarly, Celestial’s parents came together after they met when he was married to someone else. Another father devoted to the new family he built on a firm foundation – symbolized by the old hickory tree in the yard.

And then there is the love between a parent and a child. Big Roy fully embracing Little Roy; Andre embraced by Mr Henderson, Little Roy and the Biological, and even Dre and his father. Even if people leave, that does not mean they don’t care. Spoiler – finding out that Olive gives up the fight once she realizes there is someone taking care of her son was very different from the belief that Big Roy had once he hear Celestial told Olive the Biological was watching over Little Roy.

Stereotypes would be easy to fall back upon here, but the depth of these characters and the basic understanding of the underlying social injustice for the black community runs below the surface of the story. Paralleled in the river where Roy goes each day to contemplate, the river of injustice can be heard if you listen closely. The reality of it being there, always under the bridge to elsewhere, is the current running through each story. This is a most powerful image – the current remains, even if there is a bridge over it, you can’t always take it to the other side, just as The Hick is a metaphor for a marriage.

This book still surprises me as I process it. Very powerful, and beautifully written.

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Eleanor Oliphant has been here

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A typical crisis for me is there are too many book to choose from. After picking book group titles last week, I had to read another title I proposed that others had already read.  Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, by Gail Honeyman, was a joy.

At times reminiscent of The Rosie Project or A Man Called Ove, this fish out of water story had a bit of a dark twist.  While stumbling into real life, Eleanor is forced to face her past instead of drowning it in vodka. She begins to plan for a life with a man she has never met. As she executes this plan, she begins “self improvement” with a new haircut, new clothes, and new makeup. Outside of this plan, however, are interactions with people in ways she is unfamiliar with. Raymond, the tech support at her office, and Sammy, the person they helped when in distress on the street, provide her with more support than she knew she needed.

In fact, when she first met Raymond he found a virus on her computer and was able to clean it so it would be more effective. Same could be said of how he helped Eleanor. There were people to help around her always, she just needed to have some programs tweaked to have her work effectively with them. Another metaphor in the story is how she sets to cleaning her apartment. It transforms from a sad, uncared for space into a bright space looking for interesting things to add to the walls. She was a sad, uncared for person (she thought), but when she cared enough to buy herself things more than “useful” she is no longer just her scars, but a beautiful woman.

And while the dark part of the story was not hard to guess at due to the clues, the fact that she had so successfully fallen through the cracks of the system that was to help her was a sad comment on those the legal system that is meant to protect children.

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While the kids are at camp, I feel…..

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I have just returned home from dropping my kids at camp.  They are gone for the next four weeks.  I am home with the dog, but the house is so silent.  I miss them so much.  I also am relieved that I have the house to myself for now to try and finally get it cleaned and organized.  As parents are dropping their children off, there are so many emotions swirling, you never know what to feel.  The first day for me is always the hardest – I miss them, but feel guilty that I don’t miss them enough.  It was in this state of mind that I finished Alice Hoffman’s Faithful.

At its core, this is a story of what happens in the blink of an eye.  One action sends waves of reactions  that are irrevocable and life changing.  That is what happens when Shelby crashes the car, and her best friend Helene is damaged beyond repair.  Carrying that guilt, Shelby breaks down mentally, and is brought back by the love of her mother and messages sent to her on postcards.  These postcards seem to know what she is thinking and feeling.  And they help her survive.

If this is what you call surviving.  As Shelby learns how to be in the world again, and allows herself to let people into her life, she takes small steps, with Ben Mink, and larger steps, first with stray dogs she “liberates” from a homeless man, then Maravelle and then Maravelle’s children.  As each person makes their way into her life, the protective coating she has created begins to wear thin.  And she begins to care about other people.  When she takes her first steps to choose someone, she makes a mistake with Harper Levy, but learns from this.  All along she feels that she gets what she deserves.

As she continues to make a way toward finding herself, she finds a passion, taking care of animals, and commits to it.  She comes to peace with her mother, who protected her as best she could during the hardest times, and learned that she was someone’s everything – something she never thought she was worth.  And she finds James – the writer of the postcards.

The story is a journey of forgiveness to yourself.  While Maravelle and her kids don’t believe she needs that, it is ultimately Teddy who hears her story due to his pain.  And while Ben can’t understand the pain, he tried to be there, but never really understood.  James, however, lived that pain everyday.

Ultimately what this story told me was that we are our own harshest critic, the least forgiving and the most vicious.  If we could be as kind to ourselves as Helene’s father was to Shelby when she came to say goodbye, it would be a must less self-destructive world.

And so, I will not feel badly for being glad my children are in their happy places, even if that is defined as somewhere without me.  I will embrace the strength I have given them to know they can venture out safely, that I am always here for them to come home to.