Monday Music: "Mary, Don't You Weep"

An article from Wikipedia describes this song as, a Negro spiritual that originates from before the American Civil War– thus it is what scholars call a "slave song," "a label that describes their origins among the enslaved," and it contains "coded messages of hope and resistance." It is one of the most important of Negro spirituals.

The song tells the Biblical story of Mary of Bethany and her distraught pleas to Jesus to raise her brother Lazarus from the dead. Other narratives relate to The Exodus and the Passage of the Red Sea, with the chorus proclaiming, “Pharaoh's army got drown-ded!”, and to God's rainbow covenant to Noah after the Great Flood. With liberation thus one of its themes, the song again become popular during the Civil Rights Movement.

The following video is from Dust-to-Digital:

Travel back to Augusta, Georgia in 1929:

A group of farm workers singing the spiritual, "Mary, Don't You Weep."

Thanks to the University of South Carolina for preserving this rare footage.

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Bearing Witness to the times: Guardrails

Damaged headstones at Chesed Shel Emeth Cemetery, St. Louis, MO
Photo by Nick Schnelle for The New York Times

“At Jewish Cemetery, Seeking Answers Amid Heartbreak”

Guardrails

They served as boundaries for common decency.                          

We learned to recognize them

By stories told –

Stories of darker times in our past.

We heard stories of discrimination

When people shouted,

“Kike!”

“Mick!”

“Wop!”

“Spic!”

“Polack!”

Labels to keep those outsiders in their place,

They seemed relics of the past.

We learned thereby

To live in a moderated peace

In spite of our inclinations,

Gut reactions,

And lingering prejudices.

Later we learned the hard lessons of racism.

Even in our white flight

We knew we had to drop the “n-word”

And allow everyone a seat at the table.

Still there were other words of exclusion.

That justified hatred and displacement:

“Fag,”

“Queer,”

“Dike.”

These words,

By hard work and diligence,

Became history in a progressive workplace.

A moderated peace –

Setting guardrails

To remind us of civil behavior,

To strive for an equitable society,

To mark those boundaries

Of common decency.

Within that moderated peace,

All are welcome

To live their traditions

Within a broader society.

Texas mosque destroyed by arson (photo by

Barclay Fernandez/The Victoria Advocate via AP)

A moderated peace –

Establishing a functioning community,

Even if only by a tenuous

Begrudging obligation

For some.

There are expectations of behavior –

A tacit agreement

That public prejudice is taboo

Even if private emotions fall short.

Guardrails have kept us on course.

For all of our failures,

At least we were civil

And making an effort.

Is there now nothing to remind us

Of how far we have come?

Are we left once again

To face our own prejudices,

To live with the consequences of hate?

A moderated peace is never perfect

Yet it requires constant vigilance

To preserve our gains.

We thought we had moved beyond

Spray-painted swastikas

And vandalism.

Let down our guard

And our racism

Comes in full view; 

Our corroding prejudice

In full flower.

Places of worship are torched,
Bomb threats are made,
Graffiti is scrawled on walls,
And cemeteries are desecrated.

Hatred is exposed

And fears confirmed.

Death and destruction

Are their natural end.

Therefore

Damaged gravestones

Become their metaphor

When guardrails are down.

                                       ~ Charles Kinnaird

Jewish Community Center in Birmingham, AL (AL.com photo)

"Birmingham police and firefighters responded Monday morning to the Levite Jewish Community Center 

on Montclair Road. The hoax threat was one of nearly a dozen throughout the U.S. Monday."

*    *    *    *

From my introductory post:

The best thing that poets can do is to bear witness to the times – articulate what is happening in the moment; speak to the real life experiences of your people.  I am setting myself a goal to write a poem each week that reflects what I see and experience in the life of our nation... if I can write one poem a week there will be some chronicle of our sacred/tested/doubtful union.

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Saturday Haiku: Spring Bunting

indigo bunting

hops quietly in springtime

morning eye's delight

Listen to the indigo bunting's song at https://youtu.be/JJTaV95E9Qg

_______________________________

Photo: Indigo bunting in a meadow
(Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)



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Bearing Witness to the Times: The Why of Daffodils

Photo by Lars Kasper

The Why of Daffodils

This week

The daffodils began to bloom,

The first few opening up

Across the lawn.

In some way

I know why –

I planted the bulbs myself

A few years ago.

They will continue to rise and bloom with the season

Long after I have left this place.

Whoever comes to live here after I'm gone,

Whether they live in strife or bliss,

Will witness the bright yellow flowers

That show themselves each spring

Like the crimson poppies in Flanders fields

Where soldiers fell,

Or the lilacs of lavender that bloom in the dooryard

In spite of grief over a slain hero.

It is that tenacious and enduring "why"

To which I confess no knowledge,

And claim no understanding.

Why are we comforted

By such recurrent beauty

In the presence of our sorrows?

Does nature’s hand

Speak soft reminders

In the wake of every tragedy

To bind us to some grander purpose?

When politicians speak madness

And armies pound cities to rubble

Will springtime daffodils

Call hearts to the essence

Of a life lived in beauty?

Do I really know why there are daffodils in my yard

Even when hate divides a nation?

Can we join with lilacs and poppies

To hold that poignant hope

Found even in war-torn communities?

   

Can those wounded in body and spirit

Open their eyes to see

The natural rhythm of spring

When blossoms break forth?

In as much as they turn our minds

To the underlying wholeness of being

The daffodils evoke

Thankful hearts

Even when reason

Evades the mind.

Perhaps this is the why of daffodils –

That in the midst

Of our inflicting pain upon one another

And our bringing desolation upon the land,

The earth is ever nudging us

Toward an unspeakable gratitude.

                                              ~ Charles Kinnaird

CNN Photo

"Airstrike at Syrian refugee camp kills at least 28"

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From my introductory post:

The best thing that poets can do is to bear witness to the times – articulate what is happening in the moment; speak to the real life experiences of your people.  I am setting myself a goal to write a poem each week that reflects what I see and experience in the life of our nation... if I can write one poem a week there will be some chronicle of our sacred/tested/doubtful union.

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Monday Music: Georgia on My Mind (Ethel Waters -1939)

Known to many primarily for her appearances with evangelist Billy Graham, Ethel Waters had a long career in blues, jazz, singing with big bands, performing on Broadway, cinema, and television. She was the first black actress to receive an Emmy (for a performance on Route 66 in 1961) and the first black person to receive top billing with white actors on Broadway.

Saturday Haiku: Towhee Visits

through every season

the towhee graces the world

in beauty and song

Listen to the towhee's song, "drink your tea" at https://youtu.be/mWVa08fpnXg


____________________________________

Photo by Don Johnston (Getty Images)



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Bearing Witness to the times: System Partially Down

“Phoenix immigrant mother deported to Mexico amid protests”

 (Photo by Rob Schumacher / AP)

System Partially Down

In the midst of a busy day

Conflict arose.

We have a system in our workplace

To make things more efficient.

It mostly works

Except when it doesn’t.

Conflict arose

When I needed that space

At the same time my coworker

Needed that space.

He did not like

My taking the space.

I could have waited

But my work was important.

His work was important, too.

Hard feelings that day.

No one’s fault

But a flawed system

Putting us at odds.

And so we live

Within flawed systems –

Sometimes thwarting our plans,

Sometimes placing us at odds

With one another.

I fall back to an old zen story about an empty boat:

A man sitting in his boat was rammed

By another boat.

Anger immediately arose within him.

Turning,

He saw that the boat was empty,

Simply adrift.

With no person, no motive, no agenda to rage against,

The man’s anger completely dissipated.

I try to see our flawed system

As an empty boat

When I’m placed at odds

With colleagues.

It helps me navigate my day.

But I still feel great sorrow that

A flawed system

Separated a young mother from her family,

Deporting her to Mexico.

This is not just a case of an empty boat.

                                                          ~ CK

*    *    *    *

From my introductory post:

The best thing that poets can do is to bear witness to the times – articulate what is happening in the moment; speak to the real life experiences of your people.  I am setting myself a goal to write a poem each week that reflects what I see and experience in the life of our nation... if I can write one poem a week there will be some chronicle of our sacred/tested/doubtful union.

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An Interfaith Trialogue Celebrating Mutual Respect and Kindness

I am always happy to hear about interfaith dialogue. Last month there was an event at Prince of Peace Catholic Church in Hoover, Alabama Leaders held a "trialogue" in which Christian, Jewish, and Muslim leaders discussed their common heritage. As reported in the Roman Catholic diocese newspaper, One Voice:

"Three local faith leaders - Catholic, Jewish, and Muslim - discussed their common heritage as children of Abraham at a recent public forum held at Prince of Peace Church in Hoover. A standing-room-only crowd of over 550 from throughout the Birmingham area filled the church’s Deasy Hall to hear Father Ray Dunmyer (St. Thomas Church), Rabbi Jonathan Miller (Temple Emanu-El) and Dr. Sameh Asal (Birmingham Islamic Society) present “An Interfaith Trialogue Celebrating Mutual Respect and Kindness” on Jan. 26. All three of the panelists, as well as forum moderator Sister Mary McGehee, are active in interfaith outreach." Read more here, and see the event for yourself on the video. It is a little over an hour in length.

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"My Love Walked Through"

On this Valentines Day, I'm re-posting a love poem from my Masterworks Series (from August 24, 2015)

My Love Walked Through 

It was on a summer’s day

When all the world was still

My love walked through the market

With longings to fulfill.

She placed into her basket

The fairest fruit and flower

And set them on her table

To wait the trysting hour.

“When can you come to see me?”

She asked when last we spoke.

My mind was gladly willing,

My heart was full of hope.

Through all my years of struggle

While striving for a name,

I’d never found a resting place

Or joy that I could claim            

Until she graced the morning

With bountiful delight.

Her eyes spoke only welcome

To set my world aright.

So when we sat together

And spoke of days to come,

Our careful hearts were learning

We’d found our lasting home.

                                                     ~ CK

________________________________
Image: Still Life with Pineapples (courtesy of WikiArt)
Artist: Henri Matisse (1869-1954)
Medium: Oil on canvass

Date: 1925


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Index

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Monday Music: Al Jarreau - Spain (I Can Recall)

In memory of the legendary jazz artist Al Jarreau, who passed away this past weekend after being hospitalized just prior to a concert tour. "Spain" was written by jazz musician Chick Corea. Al Jarraeau, famous for his scat singing, lent his own special talent to the song. Someone said he "played his voice like an instrument." Here you get a good example of his vocal art.

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Saturday Haiku: An Assurance of Sparrows

when sparrows gather

their voices proclaim the day

all are reassured

_______________________________

Painting by Yang Shanshen (Chinese, 1913–2004)



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Bearing Witness to the Times: Bury My Heart

"Army Approves Completion of Dakota Access Pipeline Near Standing Rock"

(Photo by Robyn Beck/AFP/Getty Image)

Bury My Heart

“Bury my heart at Wounded Knee*.”

Bury our soul at Standing Rock.

Bury our children in the rubble of corporate greed.

In times past,

Those in power 

Sought to remove the indigenous people

By removing their primary natural resource.

Thus began a campaign of slaughter

That nearly drove the American bison to extinction.

It was the logical extension

Of violent disregard

And relentless acts of genocide

Exacted over 200 years of “New World” settlement.

A reprieve was granted.

The bison was ultimately spared

On small parcels of land.

The people were also spared extinction

To live on small parcels of land

Where their children would be robbed of their heritage,

Their elders would be ridiculed,

And their warriors would be doomed

To a life of alcohol and despair.

For 100 years thereafter,

The bison ran

And gained in number.

The people slowly shook off

The manacles of cultural oppression.

Today they make one more stand

At Standing Rock.

They stand as a witness

Against our penchant for destroying natural resources.

They stand as a witness

For human dignity.

They stand as a voice 
In support of the good earth.

While they stand,

They rally a nation.

Yet the well-oiled wheels of an industry

That cannot see its own end

Move to crush the resistance

           to exhaust our resources,

           to pollute the land

           to disregard the humanity it claims to serve.

One more stand

May lead to more burials,

Yet the good earth will remain

Long after our bodies lie in the rubble

Of our own recklessness.

The good earth will flower

After we are gone.

Nature will endure

With or without humanity.

Our song may give hope to the world

Yet the world may one day have to spin

Without our song.

Bury my heart.

Bury my soul.

Bury my children.

                                                ~ CK

                

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* “Bury my heart at Wounded Knee” is a line from the poem, “American Names,” by Stephen Vincent Benet. It is also the title of a book by Dee Brown, subtitled “An Indian History of the American West.” Wounded Knee was the site of the last conflict between the U.S. Army and Native Americans. On December 20, 1890, the Wounded Knee Massacre at the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation (Lakota) in South Dakota was the culmination of the Ghost Dance Movement and ended the Indian Wars. 300 Native Americans died that day. Wounded Knee is also the site where the parents of Crazy Horse buried his heart in 1877.

American bison (photo by Skeeze courtesy of Pixabay)

*   *   *   *   *

From my introductory post:

The best thing that poets can do is to bear witness to the times – articulate what is happening in the moment; speak to the real life experiences of your people.  I am setting myself a goal to write a poem each week that reflects what I see and experience in the life of our nation... if I can write one poem a week there will be some chronicle of our sacred/tested/doubtful union.

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Stand as One: Empowering Marginalized Voices in Birmingham

Everyone in the Birmingham area, please note the following announcement concerning the challenges we are facing in terms of forging an inclusive community that promotes justice and human rights for all citizens.

Stand as One: Empowering Marginalized Voices in Birmingham – Press Release

Individuals and groups throughout our diverse community are seeking ways to come together to address common challenges and make Birmingham a strong and inclusive community. A group of individuals representing different faith-based, community, and academic organizations has come together to plan a program that will identify our common challenges and begin to identify ways we can work together to address those challenges to create a stronger Birmingham. The program will be offered on February 16 from 6:30--‐8:30 pm at 405 Campbell Hall on the campus of the University of Alabama at Birmingham (1300 University Blvd, Birmingham, AL 35233). The program is entitled “Stand as One: Empowering Marginalized Voices in Birmingham."

Panelists representing the following organizations will discuss challenges faced by the groups they serve, strategies that they are implementing to address those challenges, and begin to plan ways to promote collaboration and hope in order to come together and Stand as One for justice and human rights.

Alabama Coalition for Immigrant Justice

Black Lives Matter Birmingham Chapter

Birmingham Islamic Society

Disability Rights & Resources

Greater Birmingham Ministries

Hispanic Interest Coalition of Alabama

Magic City Acceptance Center

National Organization of Women Birmingham Chapter

For further information please contact: Tina Kempin Reuter, PhD, Director, Institute for Human Rights, The University of Alabama at Birmingham; email: tkreuter@uab.edu,  (205) 934-5643.

Program Sponsors include: Alabama Coalition for Immigrant Justice, Birmingham Black Lives Matter Birmingham Chapter, Birmingham Islamic Society, Birmingham Public Library, Greater Birmingham Ministries, Law Firm of John Charles Bell, Immigration Attorneys (sponsor for Spanish interpreter), Unitarian Universalist Church of Birmingham, University of Alabama at Birmingham (UAB) Institute for Human Rights, UAB Office of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, Hispanic Interest Coalition of Alabama, and Magic City Acceptance Center

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