Showing posts with label race. Show all posts
Showing posts with label race. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

The Never-Ending Battle . . . Over The Battle Flag . . .

Malcolm, my blogging buddy who runs the show over at Diversity Ink (and Pop Culture Dish, Presented by Malcolm), recently started a discussion about the Confederate flag.

In a separate post on Diversity Ink, are my thoughts on the subject. Even though I've taken the liberty of duplicating my remarks about the flag here in The Old School Mix, I hope you will take at peek at Malcolm's comments on the issue, as well as some of the other topics being discussed by the Diversity Ink contributors. As always, feel free to add your own opinions to the mix.

The first time I was moved to write about this subject was way back in 1989. My essay appeared as a guest column in The Memphis Commercial Appeal and was penned in response to a previous guest column by an individual, who, among other things, described the Confederate battle flag as a "symbol of a proud and honorable people."

While I acknowledged the writer's right to interpret the Confederate flag in a positive light, I shared my own reasons for not being able to do so. The following is a somewhat revised excerpt from my original essay, which also holds the honor of being my first published newspaper piece.

Flag Remains A Symbol of Oppression

by Lori D. Johnson

It is difficult to understand how people can disscuss the Civil War in terms of brave soldiers and battles fought without mentioning that not all of the ideals fought for were admirable. How does one embrace the Confederate flag without embracing the evil beliefs which prompted its creation?

As a Southerner, the Confederate flag is also a part of my heritage. But unlike Mr.____ , I detest it, just as conscientious individuals in Germany, South Africa and indeed all over the world, detest the symbols of Nazism and apartheid as symbols of oppression. For me, the flag does not represent hospitality or regional pride. Instead, it represents the Confederacy's efforts to preserve a caste system, a way of life that was wrong and unjust.

Yes, it is honorable for soldiers to fight and die for the causes they believe. While it is only fair that we acknowledge their sincerity and courageousness, in the same breath we must also condem their convictions when they uphold the degradation of other human beings as proper and righteous.

As an African American, I recoil at Mr. ____'s attempt to equate the battles of the Confederacy with those of the civil rights movement. The former was a struggle to protect the ill-gotten rights of a privileged few. The latter sought to guarantee the inalienable rights of all who choose to live in America and believe in its Constitution.

Let us not forget that the war is over and the South was defeated. The flag served its purpose and is entitled to a place in history. It is not entitled to a place on the flag poles of a country that strives to make real the promises of freedom, justice and equality for all.

As a woman, the flag symbolizes to me the Confederacy's approval of the exploitation and abuse of my gender. It did not wave to defend the honor and dignity of enslaved women and girls subjected to the desires of men who were not their husbands or chosen lovers. It cast no shadows upon the breeding of women like cattle. It did not rise to condem the bastardizing of children destined for the auction block and sold to the highest bidder.

As a human being, my perspective prevents me from ever interpreting the Confederate flag as anything but a symbol of oppression.

It is not my wish to forget the past. There are too many lessons yet to be learned. But what has the South to gain by giving odes to an ancient relic of a lost cause? The challenge of the present is setting forth a new course for the future. Let us create new symbols under which to unite and put away the old ones, which had caused so much pain, for so many, for too long.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

There's A New Blog In Town . . . Diversity Ink . . .

I'd like to take a moment and tell you about a coalition I was recently invited to join. A group of multi-ethnic and multi-racial bloggers, led and founded by one of my blogging buds, Malcolm (of Pop Culture Dish, Presented By Malcolm fame) has joined forces to produce a blog called Diversity Ink. The blog will address a variety of issues pertaining to race and with the hope of creating a dialogue between folks of different racial and ethnic backgrounds.

In the first post, Malcolm shares a bit more detail about the groups' origins and purpose . . . "The Purpose of Diversity Ink."

Other recent posts include "White Privilege: Myth or Reality" by Pjazzypar and "Work To Be Done" by Marvalus.

If you get a free moment in the coming days, I hope you'll take a moment to check out the entire blog, participate in the conversation (if you are so moved) and help spread the word about the coalition.

It's a new day y'all. Let's make the best of it.

Sunday, March 09, 2008

COLOR BLIND . . . or . . . COLOR STRUCK? (True Story) . . .

Back when I was a bright-eyed, twenty-some-year-old, college student and living in Memphis, I found myself frequenting a hair salon with a predominately-White clientele. The salon was one of those chains you typically find in a mall. Matter of fact, this one was located in what, at the time, was my favorite mall--the now demolished, though forever infamous (smile) Mall of Memphis.

Anyway, I was sporting a perm back then and I'd somehow lucked up on a fella at this particular salon who could give me that hot, poofed-out look all the PYT's were sporting in the '80s. So one day, I'm there sitting under the dryer (possibly getting a conditioner, I can't recall) when the older White lady seated next to me strikes up a conversation.

No biggie right? Happens all the time in salons across America, I'm sure. But hold on, this one was a little bit different. This lady, bless her lil ole heart, starts in on how she loves my color.

"Oh my, I just absolutely love your color! I'd give anything to be able to tan like that."

With the salon music blaring (Duran, Duran, no doubt) in the background and the dryer humming on full blast, it takes me a few seconds to process the information and to realize, okay, wait, she thinks I'm . . .

I've barely finished the thought when she smiles ever so sweetly and asks, "So are you Greek? Jewish? Italian?"

Okay, granted, I'm a card-carrying member of the light-skinned tribe. I have a tendency to wash out in pictures and grow pale in the winter-time. And, sure, my perm-straightened head was tucked inside of a dryer. But I'm sorry, the nose is a dead-give away. Till this day, how anyone could ever mistake me for anything other than a person of African descent, truly boggles my mind.

In any case, I smile ever so sweetly back at her and say, "No ma'am, actually, I'm African American."

The sweet little old lady's smile disappears and for the remainder of our stints beneath our respective dryers, she doesn't utter so much as another word in my direction. Go figure (LOL).

(Written while listening to Aretha Franklin's "Rock Steady," "I Say A Little Prayer," and "Think.")