America

Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,

And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth,

Stealing my breath of life, I will confess

I love this cultured hell that tests my youth!

Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,

Giving me strength erect against her hate,

Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.

Yet as a rebel fronts a king in state,

I stand within her walls with not a shred

Of terror, malice not a word of jeer.

Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,

And see her might and granite wonders there,

Beneath the touch of Time=s unerring hand,

Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.

Claude Mckay, from Harlem Shadows,

copyright, 1922, Harcourt, Brace & Co.

On one my favorite message boards, AALBC.com, one of my favorite sister-friends, Yvette, shared the following on a “Black Girls and Science Education” thread:

Many educators worry that the ability of the United States to produce enough scientists will fall short unless a more diverse group of students are recruited to science study — and thrive. Despite the odds, some black females do succeed in science. Swimming Against the Tide: African American Girls and Science Education (Temple University Press) looks at why some students succeed, and the roadblocks they face along the way. The book is based on a combination of statistics, surveys and interviews. Sandra L. Hanson, the author and professor of sociology at Catholic University, responded via e-mail to questions about the book….

Full interview: http://insidehighered.com/news/2009/02/02/hanson

…which prompted me to share the following:

My oldest daughter and her female classmates were recently invited to a presentation by a female astronaut, Pam Melroy:

Pamela Anne Melroy (born 17 September 1961) is a retired United States Air Force officer and an active NASA astronaut. She served as pilot on Space Shuttle missions STS-92 and STS-112 and commanded mission STS-120.

Melroy presented awesome pictures and video–inside the shuttle at launch, rendezvous with the international space station, which is also under the command of a female astronaut, space walks, their tiny living quarters, zero-gravity fun, and repairs to the solar array on the space station. Did you know that the shuttles circle the earth every 90 minutes, so they get to see a sunrise or a sunset every 45 minutes? And stars don’t “twinkle” in outer space. What we see as a “twinkle” is caused by the presence of the earth’s atmosphere.

Clearly, the chaperones learned as much as the kids did.

Melroy challenged the girls, telling them that the next frontier was sending humans to Mars. She and her comrades will be too old to go when that mission is ready to be undertaken. That mission will be undertaken by people who are kids in school today…maybe one of them.

She talked about diversity as well, but she did so in terms of the diverse professional backgrounds that astronauts must have: military, engineering, astronomy, and other fields that just don’t “scream” astronaut; it takes expertise in all these disciplines to build a strong mission team. You can’t really train in college to be an astronaut per se. You have to first be something else, and excel at it, usually at a PhD level. The average age of those entering the program at NASA is 35.

Anyway, the mission’s robotics specialist was a black woman, Stephanie Wilson, and we saw her in action in the video. After Dr. Mae Jemison, I didn’t know any other black women had gone into space.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stephanie_Wilson**fighting urge to pitch article about Wilson to a magazine…will return to book proposal now**

Here’s a little something for your soundtrack:

This past February, my girls and I watched the DVD Our Friend, Martin (thanks again to Christina for the heads up). In this movie, the main character, a black teenager named Miles, travels back in time and befriends a young Martin Luther King, Jr. The past and the present collide right up to the dramatic peak when our protagonist is faced with a decision that could alter the course of history. Our Friend, Martin weaves animation with black-and-white news footage and photography, including images of King’s funeral and those who mourned in the wake of his assassination. The film does not gloss over King’s murder, but protects its young audience by having the screen go dark after a shot rings out.

By going the “What would life be like today if it wasn’t for MLK?” route, the film pretty much gives MLK credit for the entire civil rights movement. But in the wake of a kid-friendly presentation that effectively introduces children to the concepts of nonviolence, justice, and equality, I can let that slide and embrace the teachable moment to discuss other individuals (Fannie Lou Hamer, for example) who also worked and sacrificed to hold America to its freedom-related promises.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

January 15, 1929 – April 4, 1968

Opens March 7th.

In case you missed it, check out Guest Blogger Laina Dawes thoughts on black rock and Black History Month here.

(Thanks, Dawn)

I thought about making the last post a round-up post, a “Best of…” retrospective of posts from this blog and those of my fellow 32 Days… celebrants. But frankly, I’m tired this morning, still fighting off something viral that must run its course. And I’ve got looming deadlines. Besides, I’ve never been good with superlatives, always hard pressed to name my favorite anything.

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this whole blogging experience–in the preparation of my posts and in the reading of others I’ve been educated, challenged, and entertained. I’ve made new cyber-friends and gotten to know old friends better. My view of Black History Month as a celebration of the personal as well as the political has been solidified. I’ve been reminded of how much I do not know, and my thirst for knowledge and understanding has at once been quenched and intensified.

I can’t really explain how it happened–osmosis maybe?–but as I’ve written here and read and read and read elsewhere throughout this past month, ideas related to my fiction and nonfiction writing projects have been challenged, reshaped, and solidified (again, that word). As I aim for it to do each day of my life, my world got larger, and as a result, my writingbetter. I picked up the pace, I’m clearer about the stories I want to tell about black folks, myself and others. As I shared with the students in Mini-Me’s class, history is all about storytelling, and as a storyteller, I have a more definite sense now of my marching orders.

In particular, I owe a debt of gratitude for this to: Yvette’s scholarship, Christina’s eloquence, Connie Divers Bradley’s novel, and Tami and ABW’s passionate writing about political and social justice. Of course this is not an exhaustive list. But noting that this partial list is all-female helps me segue nicely into…

March is Women’s History Month. While I think this is a worthy celebration, no more blogathons for me anytime soon! But I do encourage you to keep up with what’s happening on the following blogs in celebration of this month (and all year through): What Tami Said,WomensSpace, The AngryBlackWoman, and Christina Springer.

All that said…In the course of blogging daily this past month, I’ve observed what many a writer before me has noted: A writer can get lost in the blogosphere. The ideas! The great writing! The interesting cast of blogging characters and the commenters who love/hate them! The distraction! Now that this blogathon is over, I may well post less frequently, but I intend to post more of my own words here when I do.

(In case anyone is wondering, I know I hinted at a Soul Food Sunday, Part 2 entry yesterday, with pictures, but alas, it did not come to fruition. However, dinner was most definitely delicious…and I felt like a complete slug afterwards.)

What else? I must thank my co-celebrants…Yvette (most def), Tami, Christina, Chris, and Inkognegro. Many thanks as well to all our guest bloggers and interviewees!

Now I’m off to tend to my sick self, and tackle the three deadlines I have this month. I will be using this space to self-promote and update on my writing projects. I really appreciate the cheerleading many of you do for me as an emerging writer. It means a lot.

In the meantime, please keep stopping by and do leave comments. In case anyone was wondering (and I know at least one person was) you do not have to register or login to leave comments. Also, one of the reasons I moderate my comments is that it also serves as de facto private email. If you leave a comment, no one will see it but me until I approve it to be posted. If it’s obviously meant to be a private communication, I won’t post it.

I will leave you with a poem. It was written by Terrance Hayes, who I meant to profile here. I love Terrance’s poetry, and happy that I can count him and his wife, Yona Harvey (also a poet) among my friends and fellow Wranglers of Little People. Terrance has written three books of poetry, and the poem below is from his most recent collection, Wind in a Box. Enjoy!

the blue seuss

by terrance hayes

blacks in one box

black in two box

blacks on

blacks stacked in boxes stacked on boxes

blacks in boxes stacked on shores

blacks in boxes stacked on boats in darkness

blacks in boxes do not float

blacks in boxes count their losses

blacks on boat docks

blacks on auction

blacks on wagons

blacks with masters in the houses

blacks with bosses in the fields

blacks in helmets toting rifles

blacks in harlem toting banjoes boots and quilts

blacks on foot

blacks on buses

blacks on backwood hardwood stages singing blues

blacks on broadway singing too

blacks can charleston

blacks can foxtrot

blacks can bebop

blacks can moonwalk

blacks can beatbox

blacks can run fast too

blacks on

blacks and

blacks on knees and

blacks on couches

blacks on good times

blacks on roots

blacks on cosby

blacks in voting booths are

blacks in boxes

blacks beside

blacks in rows of houses are

blacks in boxes too