Celebrating the Ancestors
Yep. I was the kid who hung on every word I heard ‘the ancestors’ speaking. Not everybody was so interested in them old stories and ways. But not me. Hearing about the old farms, and eating anything that moved, and the medicine man, and the house set afire and men run off lands…my people had my undivided attention. I think it was the way these tales were relayed that hooked me...almost no different than today. The jostling and joking, my great-grandmother's clipped diction and how she remembered stories, and the trolling mystery in how my dad retold stories his great-grandfather passed down to him... I couldn’t drink fast enough. I was so fascinated, maybe possessed might be a more accurate portrayal, that years before the mini-series ‘Roots’ aired I wrote a play about these intriguing ancestors and along with my sister, performed the skit for our church. I had to let everyone know about these ancestors… the slave, and the storyteller, and the white man. I still remember my grandfather, sitting up front half sleep, which after all was sketched out and portrayed it may have been just as well if the rest of the audience had fallen asleep too.
Ha. Ha. Ha and Oh. My. Goodness, after convincing my mother to let us, my sister and I, use our popcorn springy patterned bed-sheets as African wraps to wear during the recital (or skit)…I wrote (for crying out loud), about our white and African ancestor, I got right up on that stage… and froze. Stage fright. Never knew I had it. Was the first time I even realized there was such a thing. It only registered there might be a problem when the First Lady asked ‘how I wanted the stage lighting.’ Suddenly alarmed I asked if it was possible to keep both the stage and audience dark. Not funny but hilarious. I only can assume today that there was a larger reason that performance went as it did. Of all the things to be remembered for, this was not it.
Long story short, I’ve been celebrating the ancestors for years. It’s their stories, especially when they are unique…and redemptive, and told in ways that excite, and inform, and yes… entertain as well. Listed below are few of my favorites, books I’ve read and highly regard, stories perfect for honoring Black History Month reading.
‘A Mysterious Life & Calling’ by Crystal J. Lucky
Bullwhip Days by James Mellon
The Black Russian by Vladimir Alexandrov
The Undiscovered Paul Robeson by Paul Robeson, Jr.
To Tell the Truth Freely by Mia Bay
…Other suggested reading (not as historic, but some favorites just as relevant).
Extraordinary, Ordinary People by Condoleezza Rice
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
Life On the Colored Line by Gregory Howard Williams
My Grandfather’s Son by Clarence Thomas
My Life, My Love, My Legacy by Coretta Scott King
The House at Sugar Beach by Helene Cooper
The View From Breast Pocket Mountain by Karen Hill Anton
When We Were Colored by Eva Rutland
On an extra note, I suggest reading memoirs from all walks of life and corners of the globe. I not only find 'our' personal narratives enlightening, and entertaining, and restorative, but it is an indispensable education to know about other cultures as well. Just finished reading; ‘Never in My Wildest Dreams’ by Belva Davis… only one more book that full-circle honors this month’s celebration. (Other Thoughts here).
#BlackAmericanCulture #AfricanAmericanCulture #AmericanNegroCulture #AmericanColoredCulture #CelebratingBlackHistoryMonth365
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