Postlude: Familiar Waters
Throughout literature water is used as a
metaphor for life. And it is referenced
in songs throughout our culture. In the
spiritual realm we have “Take me to the water”, and “Wade in the water.” And then there are the legendary renderings
of Paul Robeson and William Warfield singing “
And lest we forget, there is the
folktale of “Shine” about the mythical Black survivor of the Titanic that took
to the waters of the ocean rather than go down with the ship. And his survival travails in the ocean
mirrors the survival challenges that Blacks have faced in these
• • •
However, I was
inspired to feature the song by The Sounds of Blackness, “Familiar Waters”
written by Mindy Johnson to highlight in the wrap up this memoir. Among its lines are the following:
Too long away from who I am
Too far removed from all I can
Be not afraid what lies ahead
It holds your heart too long dead
Your soul awakes to a brighter day
Sings new your voice to light the way
Step simply on to a higher
ground
Where truer peace is richly found
(refrain)
Getting back to familiar waters
A truer place found deep inside
Something known but long forgotten
Once removed and now redefined
That initial line in
the refrain, “Getting back to familiar waters,” expresses my views as to what I
think we need to do, now more than ever, to address our current situation. For it is metaphorical of the approach that the
• • •
What our ancestors went through during the “Middle Passage”
foreshadowed what we were to go through near the rivers of
In places where we could quietly gather, we would do our best to educate ourselves, even though it was outlawed. Our oppressors would train us to be able to acquire the skills necessary for us to work for them. But, more often than not, we had to turn inward to acquire the education necessary for our benefit.
When our enslavement ended, it was
replaced by “grace period” albeit of segregation. Here too, the training we were offered was
primarily to benefit our neo-oppressors.
However, when we acquired the franchise in the South, we hurriedly moved
to establish “public schools” there so that our youth could receive a more
fitting education that could redound to our benefit. For ten short years we seemed to be making
steady progress. Then Reconstruction
ended and the abyss of “Jim Crow” segregation set in. We went through an ocean of despair. However, as DuBois wrote in “Black
Reconstruction,” in those ten short years we had acquired enough leadership, as
a result of the establishment of the
Now let me hasten to add, that we did not do this entirely alone. We had some help by enlightened souls. But the initiative and drive came from within. And this pattern has continued up to this day. We had our “village” concept then and we have our “village” concept now. These are our “familiar waters.” Always we have to play to our strengths and with the hand we’ve been dealt. We should not be mere swine that have neither the insight nor wisdom to take advantage of the pearls cast in our midst.
I argue that the pearls in our midst are the many skilled professionals, people in the trades, and arts, etc., in a variety of areas and fields that have sprung forth from our communities, many as a result of the Civil Rights movement. And among them are “master souls” who will give of themselves for the uplift our communities. These are those who use their education to build our communities, rather than simply being satisfied with receiving a good enough training to earn enough money to live a good life. All of us are products of our environment. Haki Madhubuti has pointed out in his book “Black Men: Single, Obsolete and Dangerous?” that people grow up and do what they have been taught to do. Recall the type of things we say, mentioned in Chapter Six, that we typically use to encourage our youth to get a good education: You need a good education so that you can get a good job; so that you can make some good money; so that you will be able to live a good life. And that is what most of our youth who receive a good training and acquire good skills grow up and do. It is our “master souls” who step out of this acculturated path and use their talents to uplift our communities.
Moreover, ever since the end of our enslaved period onward, we have established institutions, such as churches and community centers, which are facilities that are owned or controlled by members of our community that we have used for the betterment of our communities. These are examples of “familiar waters” that we have traditionally used to collect our thoughts, to organize ourselves, to get ourselves together, and to pool our resources for our collective uplift.
● http://www.duboislc.org/EducationWatch/JCameron/JCameronArticles.html, and
● http://www.duboislc.net/read/YouCanRead/YouCanReadIntro.html.
I was personally blessed to have him as my high school
English teacher. (And given the fact that he had gone to school with my
parents, aunt and uncles, I knew that I had better shape up while I was under
his watchful eye.) Dr. Cameron has often
expressed to me that the most important thing that the
Others have often commented on the
quality of our staff, and the mere fact that so many of them volunteer their
services is what many find remarkable.
Professor James Smalls of
In this Information Age that we have entered into, there are opportunities opening up to be taken advantage of. If only we have the wisdom and insight to see the pearls in our midst. The establishment of our Telehub Network, I submit, is an example of taking advantage of such an opportunity. And as a result, many more opportunities will open up for us to take advantage of.
Hopefully we can use the Telehub Network to help fashion a more enlightened culture in our communities. Culture is key. It affects all things, especially the education of our youth. The acculturation they receive determines what they consider important, what they want out of life, and how hard they will be willing to work to accomplish it. Amilcar Calbral, an African sage and visionary, stated it well when he said that “culture is an act of liberation.”
Later in the poem he tells us “we stand on the brink of another man, all around the word the land is changing hands.” But what of this “another man” is he speaking? I would argue that he is a man who will “be not afraid of what lies ahead”; a seer who prophesizes to fellow travelers—know “your soul awakes to a brighter day”; a visionary with the foresight to “step simply onto higher ground”; a sage who counsels that we can attain the world of our dreams by “getting back to familiar waters, a truer place found deep inside.”
And what of this “brink’ we’re standing on? I submit its foundation, its cornerstone, is “a truer place found deep inside.” It’s likened unto the aforementioned cultural and historical helix (see Chapter Five) in the sense that it comes back around but on another level. It’s the metaphysical verge of a higher level of vision, insight and indeed an action to be taken, based on the best of the tradition and cultural traits that’s served us well up to this point, but upgraded for these historical times. It’s “something known but long forgotten, once removed and now redefined.”
Indeed, “all around the world the land is changing hands.” But not necessarily in the sense usually meant. In this era, the Information Age, it’s more of a virtual change, or change in infrastructure and “undercurrent,” if you will. But this dance within “familiar waters” must continue for success in this era.
And this again brings us back to
the observations of the
As the youth and others engage the technology, they invariably come up with creative new things, or ways of doing things. When it is observed, others want to bring their operations up to speed. And we have seen processes shared by those who create them. So you have competition, but at the same time you have cooperation. That creates a win-win environment.
Aretha Franklin established a new phase of her career when she left Columbia Records and joined Atlantic Records. For her very first album there, “I Ain’t Never Loved a Man the Way that I Loved You,” she recorded a song entitled “Don’t Let Me Lose This Dream.” And in it she pleads “baby, baby hold on.” Then she repeats the words in the title followed by “baby, baby be strong.” As we seek to fashion “The World of Our Dreams,” we should be mindful of Aretha’s plea. After all, we’ve “come this far by faith,” and we still have a ways to go. But we can make it if we try.
So let me conclude this memoir with the words of W.E.B. DuBois that opened the prelude. And with a gentle reminder that although they are from his speech given during the era of segregation, entitled “The Field and function of the Negro College,” that their essence still rings true today.
We live our lives in years, swift, flying, transient
years. We hold the possible future in
our hands but not by wish and will, only by thought, plan, knowledge, and
organization. If the college can pour
into the coming age an American Negro who knows himself and his plight and how
to protect himself and fight race prejudice, then the world of our dreams will
come true and not otherwise.
He goes on to say: If we use or
brains and strength there is no way to stop our ultimate triumph as creators of
modern culture—if we use our strength and brains. And what, pray, stops us but our dumb
caution—our fears—our very sanity. Let
us then be insane with courage.
World Of Our Dreams | Prelude | [1] | [2] | [3] | [4] | [Interlude] | [5] | [6] | [7] | [Postlude]
W.E.B DuBois Learning Center | Telehub Network