I hate when I hear people (usually white people) say that Black people really aren't patriotic.

Me? I'm proud to be known as An Angry-Ass Black Woman, and I'm just as proud to say that I served five years in the United States Navy.

And Memorial Day means as much to Blacks in the United States as to any race here. In fact, the very first gathering to honor fallen soldiers was organized by Blacks.

It was in 1865, the year after the Civil War had ended. Ten thousand people, mainly Black people, gathered to pay homage to Union soldiers who had died fighting to keep the United States as one nation -- and, in doing so, rid the country of slavery.

During the wa r captured Union soldiers were held at the Washington Race Course and Jockey Club, which had been turned into a Confederate prison camp. Two-hundred and fifty-seven soldiers died in captivity, and were buried there in a mass grave.

In April 1865, Blacks living in Charleston, along with a few white teachers and missionaries undertook the task of digging fresh graves for each individual soldier, and transferred their bodies, one-by-one, to their new resting places. They built a fence around the site, then constructed an arch with the inscription "Martyrs of the Race Course."

On May 1st, 10,000 paid tribute to the newly re-buried dead. Three thousand led the procession singing John Brown's Body and the Star-Spangled Banner, they were followed by women carrying flowers, wreaths, and crosses. Behind them came the men and Union soldiers. By the time the procession was finished almost the entire site was covered with rose petals.

Both local and national newspapers covered the event -- which was called "Decoration Day" -- including the New York Tribune.

Other cities in both the North and South have claimed to be the first to celebrate Decoration Day, but none of the claims -- that can be verified by newspaper or other published mention -- can be substantiated. It wasn't until the late 1990s that David Blight, a Yale professor, uncovered archives in Charleston that verfied the existence of this early celebration.

In 1868, Major General John A. Logan actually called for Decoration Day to be recognized as a national holiday, and proposed that it be celebrated on May 30th -- the thinking that there would more flowers in bloom at that time. It wasn't until 1967, though, that it officially became a federal holiday.

So there you have it . . . May 1, 1865. Charleston, South Carolina . . . the first organized celebration of what would become Memorial Day was started by grateful newly-freed Blacks.

Don't you just love a teaching moment?
.

Yes, There Really Was A Black Wall Street

Black Wall Street (aka Little Africa) - Tuls, Oklahoma

May 31, 1921.

Oklahoma. Tulsa, Oklahoma. Just a small area in the town some called Little Africa. Even more called it The Black Wall Street. 

It was a section of town that housed Black lawyers, Black doctors, Black bankers . . . and Black banks. 

It was a source of pride to live there, or to even boast they had relatives who lived there. It's destruction began 95 years ago today -- May 31, 1921 -- and it took only 24 hours and the worst riot in U. S. history to erase the Black Economic Mecca.

Happy Malcolm X Day, Everybody!!!!!!!

Malcom X, also known as El-Hajj Malik Shabazz, was born on May 19, 1925 as Malcolm Little in Omaha, Nebraska

Personally? I don't need the government to tell me what heroes birthdays are worthy of commemoration. 
Do you?

American History - The Lynching of Mr. Jesse Washington

The Lynching of Mr. Jesse Washington - May 15, 1916 - Waco, TX

Don't look away! This is American History.

Don't look away!  May 15th of this year was a special day in that history.

Don't look away!  That was the 100th anniversary of the lynching of Mr. Jesse Washington.

Don't look away!  100th year anniversaries are worthy of being noted. 

Don't look away!  The mainstream media ignored that anniversary -- so, now, I'm your teacher!

Many of you have seen this horrid photograph before, in some article about the horrors of lynching in the South or something of that like. In fact, though this is easily one of the most gruesome photographs of a lynching, it's also probably one of the best known. 

Because see, there was a photographer -- at that lynching --  taking pictures, and he created postcards as souvenirs. I'm told they were a hot-selling item in 1916. Not quite as hot-selling as the charred fingers, toes and ears of the lynching victim . . . but hot enough. 

But let me not simply call him "the lynching victim." He's been called that too many times over the last 100 years. That just might be why we still now have to shout "Black Lives Matter."

(SAY MY NAME!)

His name was Jesse.

(SAY MY NAME!)
His name was Jesse Washington.

(SAY MY NAME!)
His name was Jesse Washington, and he was only 17-years old. A farmhand. Looking forward to his 18th birthday just a few months away.

On May 8th, he was sitting in his yard, happily whistling and whittling away when Deputy Sheriff Lee Jenkins walked over and told him to get into the law enforcement official's car.

Although Jenkins would give no reason why, Washington complied. Most colored folk would back then in 1916, since they were still colored. Tired, the teenager innocently fell asleep in the back seat of the police car. The last peaceful sleep he would have here on earth.

When they got to the sheriff's office in Waco, Washington was sat down and told that he should confess to killing Lucy Fryer, a 53-year old white woman who employed Washington and other of his family members to help with the farm. Oh, and he should confess to raping her, too.

Washington swore he didn't do it. After some hours of "Waco-persuasion," he changed his mind.

The sheriff would later say that Washington gave him information as to where to find the murderous hammer used to bash in her head.

The trial was held on May 15, 1916. It lasted less than an hour. The jury took four-and-a- half minutes to find him guilty.

Judge Richard Irby Munroe nodded and was about to hand down Washington's sentence when a voice from the back of the courtroom called out; "Get the nigger!"

A mob of more than 500 men dragged him through the streets, and cut off his testicles before tying him to a tree. They then lowered him over a bonfire, and then raised him back up, only to lower him again. They did this for two hours, while a crowd of about 15,000 cheered . . . . though not quite loud enough to drown out Washington's screams.

Lowering and raising him over the dancing flames. Lowering and raising him until his Black body was charcoal, and the screaming finally stopped. It took two hours for the screaming to stop.

As his body finally lay on the ground smoldering some of the crowd would reach over and snap off a finger or a toe.

When his body finally cooled school children reached inside his jaw and snapped out teeth to sell as souvenirs. They sold for a hefty five dollars apiece.

Law enforcement was there, and so was the mayor. No one did anything to stop the gruesome lynching of Jesse Washington. In fact, there are rumors that it was the mayor who called photographer Fred Gildersleeve over to City Hall for the express purpose of taking pictures to commemorate the occasion.

“This is the barbeque we had last night. My
picture is to the left with a cross over it.
Your son, Joe.”
(actual postcard mailed in 1916)

(SAY MY NAME!)
"Jesse Washington was an illiterate and probably didn't even understand the charges against him," the northern liberals cried!

(SAY MY NAME!)
"It could have been the husband who killed Lucy Fryer, not Jesse Washington," the Black newspapers shouted!

(SAY MY NAME!)
"As people of color, we know that we all that any  one of us could be the next Jesse Washington!" hollered the northern Black community and political leaders!


Oh yes! Most of the nation was outraged about Jesse Washington's barbaric and torturous slaying.

For a couple of years, anyway.

After awhile there were other lynchings to discuss. The Red Summer of 1919, with all of it's race riots in Detroit, Washington D.C., New York City. Prohibition starts. Bessie Smith is singing and recording the blues. The Harlem Renaissance begins.

(Say My Name!)
People still talk about the "Waco Horror."

(Say my name?)
Black politicians begin to emerge in the North and South and still refer to the "Waco Lynching" to get folks riled up.

(say my name? please?)
The Civil Rights Movement starts and progress is being made left and right by Black folks and, "Thank God, we don't have any more lynching like that one kid back in Texas. What year was that again?"


His name was Jesse Washington, he was 17-years old. And yes, too many people have forgotten his name. The nation was outraged at this death, newspapers editorialized, W. E. B. DuBois frothed at the mouth, and . . . now . . . ?

And . . . now?

In 2012 another 17-year old African-American boy was slaughtered, and his death also outraged a nation.

I wonder if it's because Jesse Washington's name was so easily forgotten that this other teenager's death was also allowed to happen without consequence to his murderer?


Maybe if we learned lasting lessons from what had already happened to us we wouldn't be mourning the death of a 18-year old in Ferguson, and mourning not only his death but the fact that his death was not avenged.


Perhaps if we remembered Jesse Washington -- remembered what happened to him and why --- perhaps . . . just maybe, the memory would have us so on guard, so on point, that a 12-year-old boy playing with a toy gun might still be alive.

Because maybe our collective racial memory would have been so strong that we would have already let the powers-that-be-know that we will not just stand by and let them pick off our young Black men and women.


So! This is your American History lesson for the day.

SAY HIS NAME!!!
Trayvon Martin

SAY HIS NAME!!
Michael Brown

SAY HIS NAME!!
Tamir Rice

Damn right! And if you mean what you say about never forgetting these names we won't have to have this same American History lesson a hundred years from now.

Because there'll be no need.

Class dismissed!

The Writing Fairy

Once upon a time there was a beautiful young fairy who loved to read. She loved to read all kind of books, written by all kinds of people.
When someone asked the beautiful young fairy what was her favorite genre, her dainty little fairy eyebrows would furrow, and with the utmost fairy sincerity would say: "Favorite? Why would I have a favorite genre? If the story is good I love it."
When someone asked her favorite writer, she'd purse her pretty little fairy lips and gently flap her little fairy wings and answer: "All writers who write great stories are my favorite writers."
In case you didn't know all fairies have to have a title in order to interact with human beings. Of course you've heard of The Tooth Fairy, right?
Many other fairies suggested to our beautiful young fairy that if she wanted to interact with humans she should assume the title The Reading Fairy. But our beautiful young fairy simply gave a tinkly little fairy laugh and said, "As long as I have a good book to read, I'm too busy to interact with anyone."
The other fairies gave each other knowing looks but said nothing.
One day the beautiful young fairy finished reading "Chasing the Phoenix," by Michael Swanwick; and after basking in the glow of that beautifully written book, she reached over to pick up the next book in her to-be-read stack when, to her dismay, she found there was no more stack. There was just one book; "The Torch: Motherwit, Guideposts and Stories of Purposeful Womanhood," by Suzanne Marie.
The beautiful young fairy paused -- once she read this last wonderful book what would she do?
"Well," she thought, "perhaps I will think of something before I finish reading this last book."
. So she picked up The Torch, intending to read it very slowly, but the book was so good she finished reading it in a manner of hours.
"Oh, no," said the beautiful young fairy, tiny little glistening tears weliing in her tiny fairy eyes, "there's nothing for me to read. What shall I do?"
She was so sad she began to cry. And she cried and cried for days.
The other fairies flying by looked at her with pity, but offered no advice.
Finally the beautiful young fairy decided to peek into the human world to see who was writing the next book, and when that person would be finished. What she saw made her give a little fairy gasp.
Millions and millions of writers were walking around doing other things besides writing.
But what made it so much worse, they were ten zillion times sadder than her! Sad because they could not write because they couldn't find the time, because they were sick, because they had no computer, or even because they had no confidence.
So many writers and so many reasons they weren't writing; and so much sadness because of it.
The beautiful young fairy realized that avid readers like herself were sad because they had nothing to read, but their sadness could not compare to the sadness of the writers who could not write.
That's when a miraculous thing happened!
The beautiful young fairy's little fairy heart began to flutter, and her little fairy wings began to flitter, and before she knew what she was doing she rushed over to Soniah Kamal and whispered something in her ear, then kissed her on the tip of her nose.
Soniah stopped what she was doing, sat down in front of her computer and wrote a magnicent and poignant story which she titled "An Isolated Incident."
Then she flew over to Akanke Tyra Washington, pushed aside her long beautiful dredlocks, and whispered something in het ear, too, then kissed her forehead. Akanke immediately went home and wrote a fascinating story called "The Sankofa Chronicles: Let the Journey Begin" which brought delight to millions of young readers.
The other fairies saw what the beautiful young fairy had done and clapped their little fairy hands in delight.
"But," they all said simultaneously, as fairies often do, "you said you were not going to interact with humans."
The beautiful young fairy nodded slightly, and with new-found fairy wisdom said: "I was so happy reading that I never knew how painful it is to feel sad. But once I realized what sadness really was, I thought there was nothing in this world sadder than a reader who, for some reason, can't read. It wasn't until I peeked into the human world that I realized there is nothing sadder than a writer who, for some reason, cannot write."
She then added, "The wonderful thing is by bringing happiness to one group, I bring it to both."
It was then that the beautiful young fairy announced that she would from then on be known as The Writing Fairy. And she would forever bring inspiration to writers and happiness to readers.
The beautiful young fairy never told the other fairies what it is she whispers to writers which inspires them to write; the only one who knows is Ciuin Ferrin -- and that's only because she's half fairy and half human.
So for those readers in despair because they have nothing to read, don't worry . . . The Writing Fairy will make sure you have a good book soon.
And for those writers in need of The Writing Fairy, have no fear, she's on her way . . . she just has a few more stops before getting to you.

Rachel Dolezal Isn't The Only One . . . Meet Other People Who Passed For Black And . . .

They Passed For . . .

So you thought the only "passing" done was from White to Black? Well, you were wrong! Jews have successfully passed for Gentiles, Whites have successfully passed for Native American and Black, Women have successfully passed for Men . . . and so on! Come check some out!

 

(As "An Angry-Ass Black Woman" you'd think I've a problem with passing  . . . . And I do. I also knew two people who passed (interviews at bottom of page) and I wrote a novel on the subject.)

 

  Dolezal, Rachel - (November 12, 1977) President of the NAACP's Spokane chapter, Professor of Africana Studies at Eastern Washington University (EWU), Advisor for EWU's Black Student Union, has a Master's Degree in music from Howard University, and is Chairman for the office of Police Ombudsman. After reading all those credentials, you'll probably be surprised to find she's white. Especially since she's been telling people that she's part African-American, part White, and part Native American. But, as of June 2015, it's come to light that she's white -- with perhaps a trace of Native American -- and that's she's been living a lie.

In February 2015 she told a student journalist writing for the EWU's newspaper that she was born in a teepee in Montana, and that Jesus Christ was the witness on her birth certificate, that her mother believed in lived off the land. She said that after leaving Montana, the family moved to Colorado, and then to South Africa. There, she said, her mother and stepfather were abusive to their children, based on the color of their skin, and she was often beaten with what is called a "baboon whip," and that they were "pretty similar to what was used as whips during slavery."

Lawrence and Roseanne Dolezal, a couple from Troy, Montana, told reporters on June 11th that both of Rachel's parents are white, and showed them Rachel's birth certificate as proof. Just as an aside, Jesus Christ is not listed as a witness.  Another aside -- Lawrence Dolezal said that Howard University gave Rachel a full ride, believing that she was Black.  (I jut thought I should mention that!)

From the Montana tepee where she was born in 1977 to empowering the black community in Spokane today, Doležal has lived a life full of experiences “most people normally don’t have to go through.”

According to Doležal, “Jesus Christ” is the witness on her birth certificate. Her mother believed in living off the land; they lived in the middle of nowhere.

As a child, Doležal and her family hunted their food with bows and arrows.

From Montana, she, her mother, stepfather and three siblings moved to Colorado in 1992 for two years. From there, her family moved to Cape Town, South Africa, where her stepfather accepted a religious job opportunity.

“It’s a painful thing to talk about my childhood,” she paused as she looked down into her hands. “I kind of don’t talk about it much.”

Doležal has no contact today with her mother or stepfather due to a series of events that still haunt her thoughts today.

Doležal and her siblings were physically abused by her mother and stepfather. “They would punish us by skin complexion,” she said.

According to Doležal, the object her mother and stepfather used to punish them was called a baboon whip, used to ward baboons away in South Africa. These whips would leave scars behind, “they were pretty similar to what was used as whips during slavery.”

In 1996, she moved to Jackson, Mississippi, to pursue a four-year degree in art with a full ride scholarship.

She met her now ex-husband and afterward moved to Washington D.C. in 1999 where they married and where Doležal furthered her education in the fine arts at Howard University, graduating with a master’s degree.

- See more at: http://easterneronline.com/35006/eagle-life/a-life-to-be-heard/#sthash.M2u6FDfF.dpuf

From the Montana tepee where she was born in 1977 to empowering the black community in Spokane today, Doležal has lived a life full of experiences “most people normally don’t have to go through.”

According to Doležal, “Jesus Christ” is the witness on her birth certificate. Her mother believed in living off the land; they lived in the middle of nowhere.

As a child, Doležal and her family hunted their food with bows and arrows.

From Montana, she, her mother, stepfather and three siblings moved to Colorado in 1992 for two years. From there, her family moved to Cape Town, South Africa, where her stepfather accepted a religious job opportunity.

“It’s a painful thing to talk about my childhood,” she paused as she looked down into her hands. “I kind of don’t talk about it much.”

Doležal has no contact today with her mother or stepfather due to a series of events that still haunt her thoughts today.

Doležal and her siblings were physically abused by her mother and stepfather. “They would punish us by skin complexion,” she said.

According to Doležal, the object her mother and stepfather used to punish them was called a baboon whip, used to ward baboons away in South Africa. These whips would leave scars behind, “they were pretty similar to what was used as whips during slavery.”

In 1996, she moved to Jackson, Mississippi, to pursue a four-year degree in art with a full ride scholarship.

She met her now ex-husband and afterward moved to Washington D.C. in 1999 where they married and where Doležal furthered her education in the fine arts at Howard University, graduating with a master’s degree.

- See more at: http://easterneronline.com/35006/eagle-life/a-life-to-be-heard/#sthash.M2u6FDfF.dpuf

  Albright, Madeleine - (May 15, 1937)  First woman to become United States Secretary of State (1997-2001) . Claimed that she did not know until 1996 that her parents and grandparents were Jewish, despite the fact that her grandparents and at least 8 other relatives were murdered in concentration camps during the Jewish Holocaust. Critics, both Jews and non-Jews, have said it seems incredible that someone who as astute about international affairs as Albright could not have previously known, especially since her parents fled Czechoslovakia to escape Nazi persecution when she was a child. Albright's admission of her Jewish heritage did not come about until confronted by reporters from The Washington Post who were given the information from one of Albright's cousins. At the time Albright told the reporters "This is a major surprise to me. I have never been told this."
Broyard, Anatole - (July 16, 1920 - October 11, 1990) Author and literary critic for The New York Times. Both of parents were African-American, and so were their parents and grandparents, but Broyard was born with extremely light skin and decided to start passing while in his mid-twenties. Not only did he distance himself from his darker-skinned family, he was also known to make critical comments about African-Americans to friends. He even had a black lawn jockey in front of his Connecticut home, prompting James Baldwin to say, "I can't come see you with that crap on your lawn." Most whites unquestionably accepted him as white, but there was some speculation among blacks. When a photograph of him was displayed in a magazine alongside a review he penned of a Beat anthology, poet Arna Bontemps wrote Langston Hughes, "His picture . . . makes him look Negroid. If so, he is the only spade among the Beat Generation." It is said that jazz great Charlie Parker once saw him Broyard strolling  in Washington Square Park, and once Broyard walked by  Parker turned to a companion and said, "He's one of us, but he doesn't want to admit he's one of us." Broyard later married a white woman and had two children, but never told his offspring about their racial heritage.  He is said to be the inspiration for the Philip Roth novel, The Human Stain.


 Stebbins, Mark - ( 1943) In 1983, Stebbins ran for City Council in a heavily Black/Latino district of Stockton, California and won. When asked by the Stockton chapter of the Black American Political Association of California, which trying to get their endorsement, he was asked if he was Black, and he said he was. Forget the fact that his mother is white, his father is white, and his siblings are white. Mark Stebbins insists he's not lying about his race. After his 1984 win, his opponent -- who was Black -- engineered a recall, saying that Stebbins won by fraud; namely claiming to be Black. Voters voted Stebbins in, anyway. Stebbins has maintained that while his family is white, he is genetically Black -- he just refuses to explain how or why.
By the way . . . Stebbins is still around. The picture above (the only I could find online) is from his 2015 City Council race. (This time he lost!)

 

Channing, Carol - (January 31, 1921) Three time Tony Award winning actress, also nominated for a Golden Globe and Academy Award. At 81, she revealed that she her father was 1/2 African-American. In her 2002 autobiography, Just Lucky I Guess, she wrote that her mother told her when she was just 16 so that "she would not be surprised if she had a black baby," but Channing decided to keep the information secret so that it would not affect her acting career.

Grey Owl - (September 18, 1888 - April 13, 1938) Canadian conservationist and author who claimed to be half Apache and half Scottish (to account for his European features), but was later revealed to have been born Archibald Belaney in Hastings, England -- a full blooded white Englishman. He moved to Canada in his twenties, became a trapper, and married an Iroquois woman who encouraged him to write. When touring England (wearing full Ojibwa attired) in 1936 two of his aunts saw him, but decided against his revealing his true identity. When his true racial heritage was discovered after his death his books were withdrawn from publication.

Herriman, George - (August 22, 1880 - April 26, 1944) Cartoon pioneer who claimed to be of Greek ancestry, but was actually African-American. Herriman's famous cartoon, "Krazy Kat" is considered by many to be the greatest American cartoon, and had a cult following which included Charlie Chaplin, Pablo Picasso, Walt Disney, Ernest Hemmingway, and F. Scott Fitzgerald. Born in New Orleans, Herriman's family moved to California when he was just a toddler to the Jim Crow laws. In his teens Herriman worked as a baker, a house painter, and a side-show barker, though cartooning was his first love. In his early twenties he moved to New York, and soon began work with the New York Evening Journal, a publication owned by William Randolph Hearst -- who stayed a life-long fan of Herriman's work. Herriman told people he was of Greek ancestry, and he was never photographed without a hat. He married a white woman and had two daughters. After his death it was discovered that his parent's were listed as Mulatto, and that he himself was designated as "Negro" on his birth certificate.
  Otis, Johnny - (December 28, 1921 - January 17, 2012 ) Jazz musician, composer, radio Deejay -- often said to be the Godfather of R&B. Born Ioannis Veliotes to Greek parents living in a predominately African-American section of Berkley, CA, Otis hung out with the black kids while growing up. Always attracted to music, he began playing drums for Count Otis Matthews and his Oakland House Rockers in 1939, and then -- after switching to the vibes and keyboards -- a host of other African-American big-band groups. In 1945, after starting his own band, he has his first big hit with "Harlem Nocturne."  Though he wasn't claiming to be black, he knew that his olive complexion and his knowledge of the African-American lifestyle persuaded many of the people with whom he played that he was one of them. "They accepted me as black, and there were plenty of black players who were much whiter looking than myself," he would later say, pointing to light-skinned African-American musical luminaries such as Willie Smith, Earl Warren. "I didn't try to pass, it was just a foregone conclusion that 'he's black.' Nobody questioned that." Later in life, though, he would use the "we" or "us" when referring to Black people, and also married a black woman. He is credited with discovering Little Willie John, Hank Ballard, Jackie Wilson, and Etta James. He also wrote a number of R&B classics, such as: Roll With Me, Henry, Every Beat of My Heart, So Fine, and "Willie and the Hand Jive."
Powell, Adam Clayton, Jr. (November 29, 1908 - April 4, 1972) Well known Civil Rights Activist, Clergyman, and the first African-American U. S. Congressman of Harlem, Powell was the son Adam Clayton Powell, the powerful and influential pastor of the Abyssinian Church of Harlem. The youngest of the Powell children, Adam, Jr. grew up spoiled and pampered, and as young man embarrassed his family with his scandalous partying and the fast crowd with whom he hung. When he flunked out of City College because of his long partying hours, his family sent him to Colgate University in upstate New York. Though he would not have been the only African-American on campus, for some reason, Powell decided to pass for white. He even had a white girlfriend and tried to join an all-white fraternity. When some white students later found out his true heritage he was ostracized by both black and white students on campus. Powell went on to become one of the most outspoken opponents of segregation, and a leader in the Civil Rights Movement, but never spoke about his unusual tenure at Colgate. Ironically, his first wife -- Isabel Washington Powell -- was the sister of actress Fredi Washington, who gained fame starring as woman who broke her mother's heart by passing for white in the 1939 movie version of Imitation of Life.

  Tipton, Billy - (December 29, 1914 - January 21, 1989) Jazz pianist, and saxophonist. Born Dorothy Lucille Tipton in Oklahoma City, OK, Tipton lived as a man most of her adult life, even marrying three times and adopting three children. Tipton's wives later claimed that they had no idea they were married to a woman, saying that Tipton insisted on making love in the dark, and locked the bathroom door when bathing. They said Tipton told them that a chest injury as a child accounted for the bandages worn around his/her  chest. At age 74 Tipton fell unconscious from the effects of a hemorrhaging ulcer, and it was while paramedics were trying to revive her that Tipton's youngest son, William, learned for the first time that his adopted father was actually a woman.

                         ------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ I'm not including white people who called themselves "voluntary negroes" (ala Mezz Mezzrow) or folks who took on a different ethnicity for a short period of time as a social experiment (such as John Griffin). ]

  Do you know of other famous people who have passed? Please post the information in the comment section, and I'll be to include it in my next update. 

Interviews With People Who Have Passed:

 Novella Alexander - Passing for white in the 1920s.

 "Lisa" - A white woman living as black in the 1990s.

Here are some of my favorite books on the subject:

Plum Bun by Jessie Redmon Fauset    Passing by Nella Larsen
 

And of course, here's the novel I wrote on the subject!

 

 

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Karen E. Quinones Miller is a former journalist and national bestselling author of eight books - including her autobiographical novel -  An Angry-Ass Black Woman

When Rioting Becomes a Necessary Evil

Karen E. Quinones Miller

THIS IS A CONTROVERSIAL POST, AND WHILE I WELCOME RESPONSES - BOTH PRO AND CON - I HOPE EVERYONE WILL BE COURTEOUS AND RESPECT THE OPINIONS OF OTHERS

I have always totally agreed with the protests in Baltimore, and after giving it a good amount of thought, I no longer have an issue with the rioting and rioters.
The citizens of Baltimore have tried to work within the system. This is evidenced by the fact that they have a Black mayor, Black police chief, Black U.S. Congressmen, and Blacks on their City Council. Not to mention that the city voted overwhelmingly for a Black U.S.President. So, please don't tell them that they need to stop rioting and start voting. They've done that. 

And still the murder around the country of young Black men around the country, including their own Freddie Gray - whose only crime seems to be to have the audacity to have looked a police lieutenant directly in the eye, and then fleeing when the lieutenant approached him. 

Freddie Gray is now dead and NOTHING anyone does will change that fact.
But who can blame the Black people in Baltimore for being frustrated? And while I first agreed with the protesting and decried the rioting, I've changed my mind.
I'm old enough to remember the 1967 riots. Detroit, Newark, Los Angeles, etc. Most, if not all, of those riots were sparked by police brutality. All of those riots took place in the areas in which the police brutality took place -- always in a black area -- and all resulted in millions of dollars in destruction.
Seems to me, though, those riots did have some result. They made the federal government sit up and pay attention. Congressional hearings were held; the President (Lyndon Baines Johnson) had a Commission (does anyone remember the name of the Commission? I've forgotten.)put together to investigate the underlying reasons for the rioting.

Millions of federal dollars poured into the neighborhoods destroyed by the rioting in order to rebuild, and -- more importantly -- millions of federal dollars were spent on social programs like pre-school which improved education, job training (remember Manpower, anyone?) and programs designed to better the relationships between the police and the community like the Police Athletic League (PAL). All of these programs no longer exist, by the way. 

So let's not be so quick to condemn the rioting as senseless. It's what a group of people who have worked within the system resort to when that system lets them down. 

I think the blame should be put on the system rather than the rioters. 

And if someone can come up with a better way to get attention and bring about change, please speak up.
But don't tell me it's voting. Baltimore, with its Black police chief, Black City Council, Black Mayor, and our Black president proves that.

 ---------------------------------------------
ADDENDUM
Shortly after I posted this, President Obama went on television and made a statement regarding the Baltimore riot. Here's part of what he said:

But in a lengthy response to a question about the latest protest in response to the death of a young black man by police, Obama also said the problem is not new and that the entire country needs to "do some soul-searching."

"If we really want to solve the problem, we could. It would require everybody to say this is important, this is significant and that we just don't pay attention to these communities when a CVS burns, when a young man is shot or when his spine is snapped."

He said investment is needed in the communities to bring economic opportunity, including resources for early childhood education and criminal justice reform that breaks the school-to-prison pipeline that is "rendering young men in these communities unemployable." He called for job training programs as well as school reforms.

"That's hard," he said, adding that it "takes a kind of political motivation we haven't seen in quite some time."

"That was a really long answer but I felt pretty strongly about it," the president concluded.

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(Please note that the programs he says are needed are the EXACT programs that i stated were given after the '67 Riots.)

Oh Yeah! Losing Weight!!!!

Happy to report that when I weighed myself on April 6, I was down to 277 pounds! That's a 10 pound weight loss, y'all!

(In my best James Brown voice)
 I FEEL GOOD . . . YOU KNEW THAT I WOULD . .. I FEEL GOOD . . . YOU KNEW THAT I WOULD . . . SO GOOD . . . SO GOOD . . . 'CAUSE I LOST 10 POUNDS!!!!
HEAYAH!

I know James Brown hadn't yet started wearing an Afro when he sung this song, but I decided to sport mine, anyway. <grin> This is a picture of me at my new 277 pound weight, taken yesterday, April 11th.

 

So a few days ago I posted on Facebook that I was on a diet, and the response was so touching I actually shed a couple of tears. Here's that April 9th post:


I can't believe how easy it is to stick to this diet. I have to stay under 1,270 calories a day, and I only messed up once in the last two weeks. I got an app, MyFitnessPal, that helps me count calories and log meals and exercise...and lets me know how close I am to my goal. This dinner of three chicken wings , one cup of white rice, six ounces of cabbage, with one tbsp of chicken fat (flavoring is a necessity!) comes to less than 600 calories! I'm doing well!!!!




(Actually the meal was 681 calories, but I was still 18 calories under my daily allowed limit!)

I don't know why I decided to share it on Facebook, I've been going back and forth as to whether I should share the journey, but, well . . . I'm definitely leaning toward it

I've been doing okay with my daily diet . . . but not great. The crazy thing is I sometimes -- in fact, quite often -- have trouble  eating the required calories. I think one reason is the green smoothie that I have every day is so filling.
In fact, I kind of think that my starting on the green smoothie kick back in February is what has been making this weight-loss journey as easy as it has been.
Yes, you read it right . . . easy.
I've not woken up in the middle of the night with hunger pangs, wanting to raid the refrigerator. I don't want to sneak a couple of candy bars, here and there. Believe it or not, there's a 1/2 gallon of Turkey Hill Neapolitan ice cream that's been in the freezer since January. I haven't even been tempted.
Again, I think it's because I started on the green smoothies back in January. I'm just wondering if it's some kind of appetite suppressant.
Exercise has been something of a problem.  Because of my Multiple Sclerosis, my mobility is often limited, However, I just bought my niece, Anike, a new Wii dance disc. One of the songs on it was Miriam Makeba's song from back in the 60's -- Pata Pata. Shoot, as soon as I heard that I jumped up and started doing the moves along with the cartoon figure on the screen. (Yeah, I know I'm not using the correct terms, but whatever . . . ). I only did 7 minutes, but hey . . . it counts toward cardio, and it's better than nothing!

But anyway . . . it's nice to know I'm actually losing weight. It's only 10 pounds so far, but hey!!!!!

I really am going to be down by at least 100 pounds by June 2016!!!

The Journey Starts!

(editing note: This post was written April 5th, but was not made public until May 15th. This is because I'm still gathering the needed courage to actually let people see my vulnerabilities and failures. So, if you're viewing this, please take the time to comment -- let me know that I'm not just posting all this stuff for nothing!!!!! please?)



Well, the journey actually officially started on Wednesday, March 25th.

I downloaded an app called MyFitnessPal just about midnight the day before, after going through my iPhone App Store for free calorie counting apps. I only wanted an app that would help me figure out the calories in the foods I ate, but I lucked up with MyFitnessPal -- it was so much more.

First off, it asked me to input my profile. So I truthfully put in that I was 5 feet tall, and weighed 287 pounds, and that I wanted to go down to 137 pounds.

It asked me about my activity level, and I had to honestly put "Sedentary" since I have multiple sclerosis, and often can't do much exercise (even walking can be difficult some days, although I do have days I can manage to do quite a bit.)

When they asked how many pounds I wanted to lose per week I wanted to put 5 pounds, but the app wouldn't let me. It explained that the most a person with my profile should lose per week is 2 pounds. I thought that was a bummer, but I did then say 2 pounds.

MyFitnessPal then calculated that I should eat no more than 1,270 calories per day, but no less than 1,000 calories. Fifty percent of those calories should be from carbohydrates, 20 percent from protein, and 30 percent from fat.

So yeah, I was loving me some MyFitnessPal. <grin>

Okay, each day I am supposed to look up the caloric count of the food I eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and snacks, and then app will tell me how I did for the day.

So, for my first day I had a 16 ounce green smoothie for breakfast. The calories were 306 calories. I even have my home-health aide, Brenda Munson Glover, on the green smoothie kick now! (That's her on the right!) Ingredients for my smoothies are listed at the bottom of this post.

For lunch I had 2 cups of Hot and Sour Soup. That was 350 calories.
I was writing that night, and had no dinner; but had 3 oranges throughout the day for an additional 210 calories.
So my total calories for the day was 866. Believe it or not, the app then gave me a lecture about not eating enough, and that I had to eat at least 1,000 calories a day for safe weight loss.
I couldn't believe an app would actually give me a lecture. I love it! LOL

Thursday, March 26th:
Breakfast:240 calories
1 medium orange - 70 calories
1 hot Italian sausage link - 170 calories

Lunch - 309 calories
green smoothie - 309 calories

Dinner - 555 calories
1 cup white rice - 205 calories
6 ounces Skirt Steak (steamed rare, with sliced onions and mushrooms)  - 350 calories

Total caloric intake for the day was 1,243.

The app seem pleased with me to be so close to 1,270 calories, and rewarded by me by saying that if I continued in this manner, I would be 277 pounds in 5 weeks.

Yeah, I like this app!

So, on Friday, March 27th I wasn't feeling well and slept late, missing both breakfast and lunch, but having steak, rice, and a green salad for dinner. Caloric intake was only 433, and I got a lecture. <sigh>

Saturday, March 28th  - I'm really glad I'm a good cook, because I know how to spice up food with things that have almost no calories, like  mushrooms, onions, bell peppers, garlic, etc. And also, when I want something, like duck a l'orange, I can make it myself and just count up the calories for the things I use to make the sauce (orange juice, brandy, cornstarch, sugar).

 I say all this to say I had duck a l'orange for dinner, with rice and broccoli. The dinner came up to 611 calories, (that was 4 1/2 ounces of the duck and sauce, one cup of rice, and one cup broccoli.), my breakfast and lunch came up to 289 and 350 calories, respectively, and so my total for the day was 1,269 calories. I was rewarded by saying if I kept it up I would be at 277 pounds in 5 weeks.

I did well up until last night. That's when my 6-year old niece, Anike,  and 8-year-old nephew, Akinseye, came over. My breakfast was the usual 307 calories, but lunch and dinner . .. whew! Lets just say pizza, chicken wings, soda . .. smh. I seriously considered either not inputting what I ate, or just lying. and making up something that would keep me within my caloric limitations.
But I thought about it, and the only person I would be cheating would be myself.
Shoot!
So, I did the right thing -- I recorded it on the MyFitnessPal app. My caloric intake for the day was 2,027; 757 calories over my limit.
But you know what? I'm glad I went so much over the limit, because it's reaffirmed my belief that I can do this. So yeah, I've only been on this diet for . . . what . . . 11 days and I already messed up, but I didn't cheat! I was honest, and I held myself accountable.

I know that I can do this, and that by June 20, 2016 -- my 58th birthday -- I will have lost at least 100 pounds.

Yeah. I can do this!



Green Smoothie Recipe: One handful of baby spinach, one stalk of celery (leaves and all), 1/8 of medium size lemon (with peel), 3 sections of medium size orange (without peel), 2 large chunks of fresh pineapple (without peel), 1/2 medium peach (with peel), 1-1/2 bananas (without peel), 1 tbsp Chia seeds.
All of the fruits should be bought fresh, and then frozen. This way you don't have to add ice to the smoothie to make it cold -- which only increases the volume.  - I started this daily smoothie regime in February, and since then I no longer have to take diabetes or high-blood pressure medicine.

P. S. Hope you'll leave comments!!

My Weight-Loss Journey (Why I decided to undertake it, and why I've decided to share it.)

Some of you may remember me mentioning in a blog post a few years ago that I had decided to undergo gastric bypass surgery.
Well, because of various health issues (I have multiple sclerosis along with a few other issues), I put off pursuing the surgery until earlier this year.
In the meantime, I bought a Vitamix in January, and started drinking daily green smoothies in early February.
By March, people started telling my skin had taken on a glow; I no longer had to take diabetes medicine since my diabetes disappeared, and my blood pressure stabilized and I was taken off of high-blood pressure medication.
Yeah!
Also in early February I went to the required orientation for bypass surgery. The nurse who was giving the orientation was talking about what would be required of patients, both pre-surgery and post-surgery. One of the things she said was that patients would have to restrict their caloric intake to about 1,000 calories per day after the surgery in order to lose weight.
I raised my hand and asked: "Well, if that's the case, couldn't we just restrict our caloric intake now and just skip the surgery?"
There were seven people attending the orientation besides me. A few chuckled. At least one just went ahead and let out a long and loud laugh. The nurse gave me an amused look and said: "Well, obviously, if you were able to do that, you wouldn't be here, now would you?"
Now, for those who don't know me well, let me explain something . . . I have always had the belief that I could do anything.
I'm quite sure I could learn how to build a nuclear reactor and then build one -- I just choose not to.
Yes, I knew that caloric intake was a key factor in losing weight, but I never committed myself to learning about portion control and the science of counting calories because it seemed so much work and so hard to maintain that I always figured there had to be a better way.
Read the above paragraph again, please.
I never thought I couldn't do it, I just felt that if there was an easier route to weight-loss, I would just take that.
For the nurse to say that it "obvious" that I was incapable of restricting my caloric intake without the help of surgery, really bothered me. I didn't argue with her, nor did I say anything else during the remainder of the orientation. I was too busy thinking.

I was quite slim as a child and in my teens, and while I gained a few pounds in my late teens and early twenties. When I enlisted in the U. S. Navy in 1980, I was documented as five feet even, and 118 pounds.

But my weight slowly started creeping up in my mid-twenties. I was a whole 143 pounds (eek!) when I was twenty-seven and found out I was pregnant with my daughter. I went up to 195 pounds during my pregnancy, but three months after Camille was born -- in April 1987 -- I was back down to 147.
Three years later I was up to 165.
Thirteen years after that I was up to 210.
I then went on a carbohydrate limiting diet, and after only six months I was back down to 185, and quite proud of myself. I maintained that weight for a year but, then, in late 2004 . . .
 . . . I was diagnosed with a brain tumor.
Bummer.
So 2005 was a hectic year for me.

January, I threw an engagement party for my brother, Joe Quinones. I live in Philadelphia, and the party had to be held in Queens, NY since his fiancée's family lived there, so it was kind of difficult planning and transporting all the party stuff.
February, Found out I was nominated for an NAACP Image Award for my fourth novel, Ida B.
March, I flew to Los Angeles (I live in Philadelphia) to attend the ceremony. (I lost to T. D. Jakes.)
April, I had to go prom dress shopping for Camille who was about to go on her senior prom, two weeks later I had to cradle her in my arms when she was put on suspension (rightfully so, by the way) and couldn't attend the  prom.
May, I had to attend my daughter's high school graduation. And at the last minute at that. She had decided she was going to boycott the ceremony since Central High School had the nerve to ban her from the prom, but then at 10:00 the morning of the ceremony (which was scheduled to begin at 9:30 a.m.)  she came into my bedroom to say she changed her mind. We hurriedly showered and dressed and drove downtown to the graduation, and got there 30 seconds after her name had been called. But her best friend grabbed her and said: "Don't worry, they haven't called my name yet. You'll just walk with me." So Camille walked with her, and I got to applaud my daughter receiving her high school diploma.
June, I underwent successful surgery to remove my brain tumor.
July, I wrote 25,000 words to meet my deadline and complete my fifth novel, Passin'.
August, I drove from Philadelphia to Atlanta to bring Camille to her new school, Clark Atlanta University. I stayed three days, shopping for furnishing for her dorm room, going to various orientations, etc. Then I drove back, alone, to Philadelphia.
September, I arranged and hosted the Rehearsal Dinner for my brother's wedding. Then participated, as a principal, in the elaborate (and so beautiful!) Yoruba wedding ceremony the next day. 

Dang if I remember the rest of the year, but I do know that by late December I weighed 215 pounds.
When I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, in 2008, I was 235 pounds.
By December 2014, I was 287. Yikes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, I go to that gastric bypass surgery orientation in February.  And I decide I don't need gastric bypass surgery.
I can do it on my own.
I can do anything, remember?

The reason I decided to document my journey?
Well, for one, I thought by letting everyone know what I was doing it, it would keep me from backsliding.
Secondly, I figure there might people who might benefit from reading what I'm doing. Maybe I can motivate them.

Or, maybe some folks will find it entertaining!

Either way, if you do decide to follow me on this journey, I hope you'll leave comments to let me know what you think!!