To be black or to be christian..

That is the question that my prof. posed a few months ago. And a passage that we had to read made it come to mind again. So instead of posting more rap lyrics (will wait till tomorrow), I decided to submit my reaction paper for class….

“It is also essential that we, as African Americans, learn that Christianity is not a slave faith, some shameful remnant of our unlawful servitude on America's shores.” - Lora-Ellen McKinney “Christian Education In The African American Church”

Though the two terms describe cultural indicators, how can ones religion supercede ones race/ethnicity?

This question seems to raise it self in many quarters and often times in our very own classroom setting. The statement above by the author drew me out to a point where I could no longer resist the undertaking of the topic. While the author does put African religion and Christianity together pre-slavery in the first chapter; her word usage in the excerpted selection troubles me. Even within the context of her following statements she seems to verify that the slave had a different yet powerful rubric with which to understand Christianity, the statement seems to belie that point of view.

In this writer's point of view slave religion was a positive. To be clear the above quote seemed to suggest the opposite. Although if the statement’s crux was that we should not limit African American Christianity today to slave religion, I could understand it. But the statement seems to vilify the slave religion that got us over.

This issue is only my way to my real point of contention. That is, although largely a construct of post-middle passage, western thought; there is no way that a person can choose his or her race over religion or vice versa. The two although in the same realm are unlike enough that the notion of choosing is counterintuitive. But beyond the mere notion of this discussion being counterintuitive, the choice would seem to suggest that race could be chosen over any identifier. Race is not chosen, it is ascribed and while one can chose to more readily identify with other things (such as religion) and to even to reject ones own racial identity, the choice is not to be made ...it is.

Race is a sticky matter that causes these kinds of issues to rise, and by no accident. But religion should not govern these choices. Religion used as a tool can (and has been used to) divide people. Just as in this instance, where religion is deemed stronger than the natural bonds of humanity that make us the same, stronger than the idiosyncratic differences that makes groups of people similar.

So when it comes to the matter of choosing between being Black and Christian, I acknowledge that I can make a conscious decision to be Christian. However, since I can neither choose to be or not be Black I will not choose to negate my blackness by being so Christian that I can no longer be Black. As stated before, there is no choice to be made, my blackness just is. Therefore, I conclude that I chose to be Christian but Black... I am.

It is finished

This is a picture of Ms. Johnsons, now completed home.

Ms. Johnson's home
This is the home that we began work on first in New Orleans.

Ms. Johson told us that she had been praying for 6 months that her house would be cleaned and gutted.

Lyric of the week (week 17)

This weekend I went to see Dave Chapelle’s block party, a concert movie. If you go for comedy it might not do much for you, but if you are a fan of the artist, and if you are fan of one you might be a fan of all (well maybe not Wyclef.) Even though a lot of these artist have turned commercial ( GMC, Big Ten Basketball, Verizon etc..) , something that in the beginning of their careers they came out against, I still enjoy them.

Well hearing Black Star again got me into wanting to listen and as I go away I wanted to leave you with some of their words…

Artist: Black Star
From their debut album: Mos Def and Talib Kweli are Black Star
Song: Respiration Feat. Common.

[Begins with Movie sound clip]

"What'd you do last night?"

"We did umm, two whole cars

It was me, Dez, and Main Three right?

And on the first car in small letters it said

'All you see is..' and then you know big, big, you know some block silver letters that said '..crime in the city' right?"

"It just took up the whole car?"

"Yeah yeah, it was a whole car and shit..." [From the movie "Wild Style"]

[spanish speaking woman] Escuchela.. la ciudad respirando
(translation of spanish: Listen to it.. the city breathing)

* woman repeats 3X *[spanish speaking woman] Escuchela..

[Mos Def]

The new moon rode high in the crown of the metropolis
Shinin, like who on top of this?
People was tusslin, arguin and bustlin
Gangstaz of Gotham hardcore hustlin
I'm wrestlin with words and ideas
My ears is picky, seekin what will transmit
the scribes can apply to transcript, yo
This ain't no time where the usual is suitable
Tonight alive, let's describe the inscrutable
The indisputable, we New York the narcotic
Strength in metal and fiber optics
where mercenaries is paid to trade hot stock tips
for profits, thirsty criminals take pockets
Hard knuckles on the second hands of workin class watches
Skyscrapers is collosus, the cost of living
is preposterous, stay alive, you play or die, no options
No Batman and Robin, can't tell between
the cops and the robbers, they both partners, they all heartless
With no conscience, back streets stay darkened
Where unbeliever hearts stay hardened
My eagle talons STAY sharpened, like city lights stay robbin
You either make a way or stay sobbin, the Shiny Apple
is bruised but sweet and if you choose to eat
You could lose your teeth, many crews retreat
Nightly news repeat, who got shot down and locked down
Spotlight to savages, NASDAQ averages
My narrative, rose to explain this existance
Amidst the harbor lights which remain in the distance

So much on my mind that I can't recline
Blastin holes in the night til she bled sunshine
Breathe in, inhale vapors from bright stars that shine
Breathe out, weed smoke retrace the skyline
Heard the bass ride out like an ancient mating call
I can't take it y'all, I can feel the city breathin
Chest heavin, against the flesh of the evening
Sigh before we die like the last train leaving

[Talib Kweli]
Breathin in deep city breaths, sittin on shitty steps
we stoop to new lows, hell froze the night the city slept
The beast crept through concrete jungles
communicatin with one another
And ghetto birds where waters fall
from the hydrants to the gutters
The beast walk the beats, but the beats we be makin
You on the wrong side of the track, lookin visibly shaken
Taken them plungers, plungin to death that's painted by the numbers
with crime unapplied pressure, cats is playin God
but havin children by a lesser baby mother but fuck it
we played against each other like puppets, swearin you got pull
when the only pull you got is the wool over your eyes
Gettin knowledge in jail like a blessing in disguise
Look in the skies for God, what you see besides the smog
is broken dreams flying away on the wings of the obscene
Thoughts that people put in the air
Places where you could get murdered over a glare
But everything is fair
It's a paradox we call reality
So keepin it real will make you casualty of abnormal normality
Killers Born Naturally like, Mickey and Mallory
Not knowing the ways'll get you capped like an NBA salary
Some cats be emceeing to illustrate what we be seeing
Hard to be a spiritual being when shit is shakin what you believe in
For trees to grow in Brooklyn, seeds need to be planted
I'm asking if y'all feel me AND THE CROWD LEFT ME STRANDED
My blood pressure boiled and rose, cause New York niggaz
actin spoiled at shows, to the winners the spoils go I take the L, transfer to the 2, head to the gates
New York life type trife the Roman Empire state

[Mos Def and crew]
So much on my mind I just can't recline
Blastin holes in the night til she bled sunshine
Breathe in, inhale vapors from bright stars that shine
Breathe out, weed smoke retrace the skyline
Yo don't the bass ride out like an ancient mating call
I can't take it y'all, I can feel the city breathin
Chest heavin, against the flesh of the evening
Sigh before we die like the last train leaving

[spanish speaking woman] Escuchela.. respirando ??

Yo...on The Amen, Corner I stood lookin at my former hood
Felt the spirit in the wind, knew my friend was gone for good
Threw dirt on the casket, the hurt, I couldn't mask it
Mixin down emotions, struggle I hadn't mastered
I coreograph seven steps to heaven
And hell, waiting to exhale and make the bread
leavened
Veteran of a cold war It's Chica-I-go for
What I know or, what's known
So some days I take the bus home, just to touch home
From the crib I spend months gone
Sat by the window with a clutched dome listenin to
shorties cuss long
Young girls with weak minds, but they butt strong
Tried to call, or at least beep the Lord, but didn't
have a touch-tone
It's a dog-eat-dog world, you gotta mush on
Some of this land I must own
Outta the city, they want us gone
Tearin down the 'jects creatin plush homes
My circumstance is between Cabrini and Love Jones
Surrounded by hate, yet I love home
Ask my God how he thought travellin the world sound
Found it hard to imagine he hadn't been past downtown
It's deep, I heard the city breathe in its sleep
Of reality I touch, but for me it's hard to keep
Deep, I heard my man breathe in his sleep
Of reality I touch, but for me it's hard to keep

[Mos Def and crew]
So much on my mind I just can't recline
Blastin holes in the night til she bled sunshine
Breathe in, inhale vapors from bright stars that shine
Breathe out, weed smoke retrace the skyline
Yo how the bass ride out like an ancient mating call
I can't take it y'all, I can feel the city breathing
Chest heavin, against the flesh of the evening
Kiss the Ide's goodbye, I'm on the last train leaving

Comparison

"Great minds discuss ideas; Average minds discuss events; Small minds discuss people" -- Eleanor Roosevelt

The trouble with comparison is that no two situations are identical. Every one has to make decisions for themselves. I remember the theme song to one of my favorite sitcoms:

“Now the world don’t move to the beat of just one drum, what might be right for you, may not be right for some, a man is born he’s a man of means, then along comes two, they got nothing but their jeans, but they’ve got different strokes, it takes, different strokes, to rule the world…hmmm”

The way I do things has nothing to do with the way you do things.
God did not give you the mandate to figure out the validity of your path by looking at someone else’s.

Like If I decide to put a cover page on my paper, you don’t have to ask “Why you put a cover page on your paper?” Or if I like honey in my tea, you don’t have to wonder aloud why I didn’t just put sugar in it. If I don’t eat beef or pork you don’t have to make it your mission to tell me how shrimp are the rats of the sea and are worse then both beef and pork put together.

Men tend to be the worse offenders. Men can’t help but judge themselves by comparing their lives to other men. Haven’t you heard that saying about walking a mile in another man’s moccasins?

I could go on for days on this. I’m just like, get enough out of your own life. Whatever’s right for you to do then do that. Probably not doing this justice. This will more than likely be a first part in a series.

Gordon Parks (1912 - 2006 ) R.I.P.

“I think most people can do a whole lot more if they just try, they just don’t have the confidence that they can write a novel or they can write poetry or they can take pictures or paint or whatever, and so they don’t do it, and they leave the planet dissatisfied with themselves.” -Gordon Parks