kebojo: April 2008 Archives

Hypotheticals.

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Let's say you have recently, as in three days ago, completed your masters degree in library science after one-point-five fast-paced yet laborious years.

And let's say you are about to become the children's librarian at a well-loved, well-funded urban neighborhood library.

And let us also imagine that you are realizing how little you actually know about children's literature, even though you like it in general. (Let us say, in fact, that you are far more well-versed in teenage vampire fiction than is healthy for any person, but especially for someone who needs to recommend books to people under four feet tall.)

Meanwhile, let's imagine that you have always wanted to read all the Newbery Medal-winning books for children, dating back to 1922, fully realizing that some of them might be dull.

And let's say you have recently been obsessed with Jezebel.com's trip down memory lane into juvenile fiction of the 1980s.

Also, you are addicted to serial YouTube collaborations by nerdy literate people.

Let's say you're considering joining their ranks and vlogging through the Newberys, two at a time, one from the recent past, one from the distant past. There would be field trips to your library's incredible Children's Literature collection, and possibly interviews with children you have wrangled into reading these books with you. Not to mention humor.

Would you be crazy?

Would you have collaborators, and who would they be?

And what would you call such an endeavor?

(FYI, Newbery Project is already taken. Newbery Experiment is a bit too clinical. Newbery Pie is too cutesy, although I am not averse to puns. I mean, YOU are not averse to puns. All hypothetical.)

mlkmountaintop1.JPG

Early morning, April four

Shot rings out in the Memphis sky

Free at last, they took your life

They could not take your pride


- U2, "In the Name of Love"

Dr. King gave this speech the night before he was assassinated forty years ago on April 4th, 1968. It is eerily prescient, and its message is still powerfully relevant today, when the luminous promises of the Civil Rights Movement still have not been delivered in full to black people in America. Legal integration has been a reality for decades, but systemic racism is still at large. The dream is not yet reality.

A few years ago, I had the opportunity to interview Bakari Kitwana, a standout figure in what has been called the hip-hop generation. He had some astounding insights into today's complex racial climate that, without discrediting the work of Civil Rights leaders, made it clear that it's not enough to rest on Dr. King's laurels. From my article:

...The hip-hop generation has grown up in a world that found a completely new way to marginalize young blacks. They are the first to enjoy the fruits of the civil rights movement, living in a society where rights aren’t explicitly denied based on race. But this also means, Kitwana says, young black people are living in "an American dream that doesn’t fit anymore." Because they grew up without legal constraints, this generation of black citizens were led to believe that they were full and equal partners in American society. But though legal restrictions have been abolished, institutionalized racism and de facto discrimination remain, producing a jarring mix of apathy and anger in those affected.

According to Kitwana, the hip-hop generation needs to be given the authority to address these challenges. "Although the ideas at the core of the civil rights era are still relevant to today’s political landscape (equality, inclusion, and the like)," he wrote in The Hip Hop Generation, "the manner in which they are now being articulated does not translate meaningfully into the ways these issues are manifest among the younger generation."

These statements don’t indicate disrespect or ingratitude toward civil rights leaders. Rather, Kitwana simply encourages them to pass the torch to the next generation. He cites There is a River, by civil rights historian Vincent Harding, as the inspiration for this idea. The "river" in the title is a metaphor for the forward march of African Americans, kept flowing by those willing to jump in. But the book only documents the river’s movement through the civil rights era. Kitwana says it can’t end there: It’s time for hip-hoppers to get wet. "It’s our generation’s turn to jump into the river of struggle to keep it moving."

Dr. King had been to the mountaintop, but the victories he foresaw didn't end with the abolition of segregation. The struggle today is as crucial as the one pioneered by our Civil Rights heroes. In some ways, it is also more difficult, simply because it is more complex. Why do many black people continue to live in a poverty bigger than their own choices? Why do the public schools in my city neighborhood, which are 99% black, continue to show devastatingly low test scores and bristle with violence? When I got mugged last year, why did the police detain a young kid, just minding his own business, even after I insisted that he was not the criminal? Why did the look on that kid's face tell me that he had been there before and knew he would be there again? These questions - and their answers - are deeply woven into our society's fabric, but they also seem inscrutable.

I don't know what Dr. King would think about those questions and their answers. Sometimes I feel he must be very disappointed. But good work is being done by anti-racist groups like Crossroads, whose immersion seminars could rock the world of anyone with eyes to see and ears to hear. And Dr. King would surely be proud of Barack Obama and the shift in society that allows him to be electable.

Even so, we must do more. It is not enough to point to triumphs like Obama and say, "See? We're not racist." The media flap over Obama's "inflammatory" former pastor demonstrates that quite clearly. In this day and age, Dr. King's legacy is that our work is never done. We will always have more to struggle for, more to do, because the poor will always be with us, as King himself preached:

"It's all right to talk about long white robes over yonder, in all of its symbolism. But ultimately people want some suits and dresses and shoes to wear down here! It's all right to talk about streets flowing with milk and honey, but God has commanded us to be concerned about the slums down here, and his children who can't eat three square meals a day. It's all right to talk about the new Jerusalem, but one day, God's preacher must talk about the new New York, the new Atlanta, the new Philadelphia, the new Los Angeles, the new Memphis, Tennessee. This is what we have to do."

More on a certain kind of fire:
> Barack Obama's speech on race
> Dr. King's son takes up the cause against poverty
> A closer look at black liberation theology from NPR
> Adam Taylor on reclaiming MLK's radical vision

Earthly delights, v. 2

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In honor of National Poetry Month, and in honor of spring planting and spring meals, and in honor of friends scattered to the winds:

welcome

my generosity is not steaming
on the table and waiting
for you before you
even know you want it

come to my house friend you
will find my offering still simmering
i have not yet figured out what
you need and your tastes are mystery
still to me

i will wait for you to enter
my kitchen and once here
you can let me know what you like
sweet and slow
pepper and stirred

then we can share in this gift together
both of us giving
both of us receiving
open handed
open hearted

- Suheir Hammad (lifted from Organic Soul, where you can also get an amazing sangria recipe in quantities "enough to get you tore up")

1436 Harvard St

Friends
There are days
Office days and photocopy days
Collapsing into night time

And together we slump
With sighs and whispers leaning
Heavy elbows
Against a wobbly table

Tipping it this way
And then the other way
Back again sipping water
And passing

Forever passing potatoes
From my hand
To your hand
I will hold in prayer

In passing your hands are important
To me and as mismatched
As chairs and napkins
And your dreams

I will hold close
As if delicate
As if breakable
As if my own

- Joshua MacIvor-Andersen (my former Sojo housemate whose musings on living in Mexico can be read at National Geographic's Glimpse blog)

More thoughts on urban food and tables:
> Weavers Way Co-op Farm, cultivated by my neighbor, affectionately known as Farmer Dave
> Straight from the Farm recipe index, maintained by one of the Weavers Way farmhands
> Recipes from Greensgrow, another city farm and CSA in Philadelphia

More favorite poems:

> "Litany" - Billy Collins
> "The Burning of Paper Instead of Children" - Adrienne Rich
> "The Only Animal" - Franz Wright
> "Manifesto: Mad Farmer Liberation Front" - Wendell Berry (and many more)
> Celebrate Poem in Your Pocket Day on April 17. All you have to do is put a poem in your pocket.

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This page is a archive of recent entries written by kebojo in April 2008.

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