#5

I think that this has been an emotional week for most of us. In class Gwen mentioned that we have talked about racism for too long. Her statement really hit home for me. Now I'm not sure if she was referring to this class or discussing racism too long in general, but I really related to the statement. I've been at UT for three years now and out of the twenty something classes that I've taken here, I've discussed the idea of racism in every single one of them. I feel as though because UT is trying to be so diverse and open minded, it's stated somewhere and fine that you have to discuss something of black and white relations, as if there are no other races to discuss. Yes, I wan't to discuss my history every now and then and know my roots, but I don't want to have to sit through every class here and see in the syllabus RACISM. It does get a little overwhelming over time. I get taught enough about  racism just being on this campus. It's amazing how people think that just because this institution is a little diverse that somehow there is no way that this campus can be racist, and yet I pass by confederate statues every day, deal with rudeness, and people's thoughts of my inadequacies because of my skin color. Whewwwwww, that was a lot. Now back to our regularly scheduled program. 

I really enjoyed the Blackmon article this week, though it was an extreme eye opener for me. As much as I learn about the history of America and the people in it, it never ceases to amaze me of how scandalous it's roots were founded on. There were so many African Americans that died working in extreme FORCED conditions for the benefit of whites, and however there are no memories, no recollection, no documents, files or paperwork that even acknowledge that they were there? Amazing. Simply, amazing.

So many of the cities that are considered elite nowadays were made upon the backs of blacks, and I would be lying if I said that I wasn't proud, but yet resentful. To read that blacks in Atlanta, had no wealth, worked until death, and made the bricks that are probably still being walked on today is astonishing, and yet ironic.  Ironic because now Atlanta is known to many as where the "black elite" typically reside, Ironic is a sense that what blacks built centuries ago, is now theirs.

With every reading and every discussion there is some part of me that is starting to feel resentful. I know that I don't know people personally that are trying to erase my history or do harm to me, but it doesn't cease to shock me that this happened, and probably stilling happening.It bothers me that it seems as though there will never be a time where race isn't important. I happened to be watching a film entitled Gentlemen's Agreement one day and this quote has stuck with me ever since, the professor said "Because the world still makes it an advantage not to be one. Thus it becomes a matter of pride to go on calling ourselves Jews." I'm not Jewish, but this is almost the epitome of how I feel about being African American. Because we're overcome so much, because we're resilient, because it's my history, I am proud to be where I am and who I am.

     I think that many of us were outraged by the idea of there"being a Katrina, before there was Katrina". We aren't blinded by the thought of racism not existing, but it still boggles the mind to know that someone really doesn't care about another human being's life simply because their skin is a shade darker. By 1927 slavery was over, but apparently many didn't get the memo; forcing African Americans to build a makeshift levy is just wrong, FORCING anybody to do it is illegal.
     Honestly, I had no clue that they were building the levy's with mud. I know that this was in the 1920's, but my common sense tells me that mud isn't going to hold ton's of water rushing in at speeds of only God knows what. I would say I that couldn't believe that they forced blacks to stay here and work while "pretending" that there was no space on the boat for them, but unfortunately I believe it. Unfortunately, I know too much of the truth about the world that surrounds me. Unfortunately, I know that so many still hold on to these racist beliefs even now. Unfortunately, I still have to overcome them.

     Just to my curiosity, I surveyed a couple of my friends to see if they had even heard of this flood, and not surprisingly they hadn't. I hadn't even heard of this flood until this class introduced it to me. What did surprise me was that my grandmother, who was born in 1936, had never heard of this. Me not knowing didn't hurt me as much, but when she told me that she had never heard of it, it just showed me how much white history that we'd been taught. Even back then they didn't know about something so significant in history that happened, not even 20 years prior. It's amazing how much of black history wasn't taught, even in black schools. Mind you that even their curriculum was based on white history. I hate that none of this amazes me anymore.

#4 Realizations

Last week we were bombarded with the truth about how we America came about. How the person we thought was a hero was really a thief, a  murderer, and full of greed. Now we learn of the savagery that happened in grave detail. Zinn’s book is really throwing me for a loop, every time I seem to pick it up another part of me gets even more frustrated. I’ve heard these grueling stories about how my ancestors were  brought here, but it never gets any easier. It’s hard to believe that something so simple as skin color can determine how others treat and perceive you. Just because their skin was a shade or two darker, they were worthless. Because they spoke a language foreign to their norm, they were beaten, battered, enslaved, whipped and taken away from everything that they love. They had hopes and dreams, families, religion, homes, friends and a way of life that they had always known, but were stripped of everything. Everything they’d ever known, believed in or tried to achieve.

The thought of knowing that people, my people, my ancestors, were chained together like dogs, and tied down to boards deep down in the burrows of mildew, feces and disease infested ships. They were considered the savages, but the only ones that were acting like savages were the English. It continues to amaze me how people treated others like they weren’t humans. The only difference between the enslaved Africans and whites were their skin color, everything else was almost exactly the same. The part in Zinn’s book that really got to me was about the indentured servants. I never knew that both the Africans and the indentured servants worked together to fight for their freedom, nor did I know that the English didn’t want the Africans and the white servants to collaborate. In an effort to keep them separated, they gave the whites land and made them feel as though they were better off than the enslaved Africans. Just goes to show you even when people are so similar, in every facet of the word, the only thing that can deem them different is their hue. It’s a sad notion, but the truth.                                        
     Even though I didn't have to live through the era of slavery, just the notion that something like this happened to people that I came from, whose blood that I share is a tad bit overwhelming. Knowing that my grandma can still remember be called a "nigger" and having to pay at the front of the bus and sit in the back, and watch her mother work day in and day out as a nanny for only cents a day continues to infuriate me. Above all, the relatively hard fact to grasp is that racism still exists. African Americans have come so far and pushed so hard and though things have changed, they are still not equal. I can't wait until the day when I don't have to worry about attributing anything to my race, just the knowledge and skill set that I've obtained through my education will be prize enough.

#3


Initially, the size of Zinn's book intimidated me, but surprisingly it's quite interesting, in a "this isn't hard to comprehend, but emotionally it's quite daunting kind of way". I think with most of us being social work majors, reading items like these seem to have an extremely emotional effect on us. I know that most of us know that the America we know now was founded upon violence, but what I just read was a severe form of  It's hard to wrap my head around the fact that the English prayed upon the Arawak's when they were so hospitable and gracious to them. How could you treat people so harshly when they were so willing to help you in any way possible. It just goes to show you that greed goes beyond friendship and ideally all morals also. The English probably could have gotten just as many goods by just asking, rather than taking everything by force.
     Though I haven't relived these thoughts for a very long time I am still utterly confused about how is that we are taught that Columbus founded America when there were already people there? How do you find something, that has already been claimed by someone else? Information like this just makes me question most of the things I learn. We are only taught what other people want us to know, which is partially why it is imperative to be able to learn and teach yourself things that happen to be curious to you.
     I not trying to speak out of term, nor am I trying to offend anyone, but if I was an Indian I would be upset that we still celebrate Columbus Day. What are we celebrating; the genocide of millions of people because others wanted to accumulate their land, gold, enslave them, take land and abolish their way of life? I have to admit I've never given the idea of Columbus Day much thought, I just took it as another holiday that we all celebrated and rejoiced on. If I was Native American I would be offended by the celebration of such a holiday. Many of us know that the English and Native Americans fought, but everyone doesn't know the true history behind the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria. We're just taught to memorize who sailed on them, and be able to remember them when the TAKS test came around.
    Knowing your history, can't hurt you, only helps you perception of what is real and what is fake. Though I didn't want to read this book, I can already tell that it's going to have a major impact on my realizations of the world around me.