A long, thought-provoking, political free-verse poem about Black history in Old Dixie. |
Stolen from their African ancestral home by marauding, murdering bands of savage slave traders, then roughly marched in chains to the coast, put aboard ships in horrific, cramped spaces to endure a four-months-long voyage during which one slave in eight died and became shark food, the pitiful souls that survived arrived in their strange new “home” to be sold to the highest bidder. Thus was their welcome to Old Dixie. They would see their loved ones and friends nevermore. Generations upon generations of cruel slavery was their unfortunate fate, subjected to rape of their women by their Christian White masters, worked mercilessly with backs scarred from whip lashes, deliberately kept illiterate, housed in shacks, their very life dependent upon the will of their White masters, not able to even prevent their family members from being sold to never be seen again. This they suffered through two hundred years, as the South grew rich from King Cotton grown on immense plantations made possible only through the labor of slaves. Slavery was the life blood of Dixie! The end of slavery with “freedom” for Negroes was won through a bloody Civil War. But true freedom was not to be. The KKK burned crosses, administered beatings, and lynched by the thousands “uppity Negroes” who didn’t know their place in Southern culture. The governing Whites didn’t allow Negroes to vote, get a good education, have a well-paying job, or own a nice house, all through manipulation of the state’s laws and open, overt racism. Whites reigned supreme. Negroes for generations during the late 19th to mid-20th century endured these injustices or paid the price for daring to object. Jim Crow was thriving and strong. Negroes were segregated from the Whites, got off the sidewalk when a White person approached, couldn’t drink from the same public water fountain, eat in the same dining room, rent a room in the same hotel as Whites, rode at the back of the bus, and watched the movie from the balcony. Negroes knew to shuffle their feet, hat in hand, eyes down, and speak respectfully to any White they encountered upon peril of their life. Separate but equal was the law of the land. Although separate, it was far, far from equal. Negroes who went off to fight overseas during WWII with valor and honor returned home only to be called “boy” and warned to stay in “their place” and keep their mouth shut despite all the indignities they suffered. Lord, would this racism ever end? Came the 1950s and 1960s with Martin Luther King, Presidents Eisenhower, Kennedy, and LBJ, and the Warren Supreme Court, and the earth moved. Federal laws and court rulings struck down Old Jim Crow’s state laws and outlawed segregation, the denial of voting rights to Blacks, discrimination against Blacks in education, jobs, housing, and all aspects of American life. Victory perhaps! Southern White racists were livid and cursed “that nigger-loving Warren liberal Supreme Court” for its rulings. To show where they stood, some Southern states added the Confederate battle flag to their official state flag so all could see what it represented flying high over their state capital. Every Black understood their message each time they walked under it on their way into the courthouse to seek justice from their state. Racism went underground but never waned, as it persists to present day in Old Dixie. Republican legislatures and governors currently pass laws to impede the ability of Blacks to vote and refuse to implement health benefits that would aid thousands of poor Blacks in their state. Can you imagine Jesus approving of such actions? Racism is merely more subtle in modern Dixie. Applicants being of equal merit, LaShequa doesn’t get invited to interview but Jennifer does, and the apartment is no longer available for Davarius to rent but still is for Andrew. Justice is dispensed unfairly for Blacks versus for Whites. For the same drug offense, the White boy gets probation whereas the Black boy gets jail time. Serving time in prison for minor offenses ruins the life of a disproportionate number of Black young males. Racism refined! After dozens of generations of being called and treated as being inferior and enduring disadvantages in education, jobs, housing, and unequal justice, imagine if you will the lasting effects on the Black child’s self-esteem and hope for future success. Yet, today many Blacks through great personal courage and merit have managed, to their credit, to overcome the quagmire that traps so many Black youths. After centuries of historic prejudice and racism on the part of their Christian White neighbors, those Blacks who remain trapped in poverty and want must be awfully weary of smug White racists asking why have they not done better, what with “all the government programs and opportunities provided to them”, as they hear themselves called “welfare queens” and labeled as “lazy slackards” and, of course, “takers.” One can only wonder how many of these Dixie Rednecks wish that they themselves had been born Black in good Old Dixie. Hear the silence! Perhaps the current younger generation will finally bring an end to the legacy of racism in Dixie. Perhaps not, as I recall such hopes being expressed fifty years ago when I was part of that era’s young hope, while growing up in Georgia. Like the disease it is, racism far too often gets passed from the older generation to the new in the states in the Deep South deep in the heart of Old Dixie. If you doubt this is true, remember well the massacre by a young White Supremacist racist in a historic Black church in South Carolina in July of 2015. Remember the Confederate battle flag proudly flying over that state’s capital for decades past for all to see and bear witness to its message. Now imagine that you are Black. Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |