"THE STREAMS OF BLACK HISTORY"

 “The Streams of Black History”

As we enter a very difficult period in American history, we would do well to remember and learn from those who have found life and fought for freedom in more difficult times.  It is one of the gifts of Black History Month which calls us to remember the ancestors and learn from their witness.  

    Charlotte Forten was born in Philadelphia in 1837 as a free Black person, one of the granddaughters of one of the Black wealthiest men in America, James Forten.  She was educated by private tutors, and she became a well-educated woman and a poet.  In the 1850’s, she became involved in the abolitionist movement, penning poems about freedom that William Lloyd Garrison published in “The Liberator,” and that Frederick Douglass published in “North Star.”

After the Civil War broke out in 1861, the Union forces moved to cut off sea lanes from the South.  Early on, they took possession of the Sea Islands near Beaufort, South Carolina, and all the white plantation owners fled the Islands.  In order to prepare for the aftermath of the Civil War, the War Department decided to start schools for Black people  on the Sea Islands, seeking to ascertain what kind of education would be needed by those who were formerly enslaved.  

    This project was called “The Port Royal Experiment,” and many white teachers came down to teach the formerly enslaved people to read and write.  Charlotte Forten had been teaching in the North already, and though she encountered some resistance among the white leadership, she decided to come down to St. Helena Island to teach in the Penn School, as part of the Port Royal Experiment.  She was the first Black teacher there.  She taught there until the end of the Civil War.

After the Civil War, she taught in Massachusetts and back in Charleston, SC, until she moved to DC in 1872 to teach.  There she met the Rev. Francis Grimke, and they were married in 1878. In that marriage, she stepped into another stream of Black history.  Francis Grimke was the nephew of Angelina and Sarah Grimke, two white South Carolina sisters who were anti-slavery and who left the South before the Civil War.  They became famous abolitionists and feminists. 

     Also before the Civil War, the Grimke sisters discovered that their brother Henry Grimke had a relationship with one of his enslaved women, Nancy Weston.  Out of this union came three sons, one of whom was Francis Grimke.  Francis and his brother Archibald escaped from slavery, and they made contact with their aunts. The Grimke sisters helped to finance Francis’s seminary education at Princeton, and they generally supported Francis and his brother Archibald.  Francis later became pastor at Fifteenth Street Presbyterian Church in DC, where he served for almost 50 years.   He helped to found the Niagara Movement with WEB Dubois and later the NAACP.  

    He and Charlotte Forten made a formidable team fo justice, service, and equity.  She wrote a famous journal about her experiences in the Port Royal Experiment and in the white world. Charlotte Forten and Francis Grimke were one of several streams of Black history that came together and improved life for all of us.  May we find our place in those same streams now, because the water will be getting rougher for the next few years.

"A WITNESS FOR OUR TIME"

 “A WITNESS FOR OUR TIME”

    In 2019, Dr. Catherine Meeks and I wrote a book on Ida B. Wells, entitled “Passionate for Justice: Ida Wells as Prophet for Our Time.” We celebrated the life of Ida B., as well as lifting her up as a model for witness in our time. With the ascension of Donald Trump to the presidency and with all the chaos that he has already sown, Wells steps forward as a model for us to contemplate and for us to follow. She had direct engagements with two Presidents, William McKinley and Woodrow Wilson. In both of them, she took them to task: for McKinley’s mild response to a lynching in South Carolina, and for Wilson’s overt racism. 

    Though most of us are not in Wells’ league, Catherine and I suggested that we can draw strength from Wells, as seek to find our way to be a witness for justice and a resister of the reestablishment of white supremacy as the norm in American life.  Wells had been born in Mississippi in slavery in 1862, but she grew up with the legal shackles of slavery broken by the defeat of the South in the Civil War. Her parents had taught her that she was an equal to any person, and she sought to live that idea throughout her life. So, Wells’ first gift to us is to remember who each of us and all of us are: children created with equal dignity by God.

    As neo-slavery began to regain its strength after the Civil War (it is often called “Jim Crow,” but that is a misnomer), Wells began to experience a sense of anger and disgust that white supremacy was seeking to tell her and other Black people that they were inferior. She was outraged that neo-slavery sought to re-establish itself through violence and intimidation, including lynchings.  Wells responded with strength to engage the strength of the return of white supremacy. She would not be defined by white supremacy, and she fought hard to help others find the strength to resist this movement. So, as Trump seeks to re-establish white supremacy in our time, let us remember the deep resistance that Wells demonstrated, and let us find some of that same strength that Wells showed us. We must find ways to resist this Trumpist, white supremacist movement. 

    Second, Wells was not afraid to go public with her resistance. After several Black friends were lynched in Memphis in 1892, she decided to do a study of all the lynchings in the South in the 1880’s-1890’s. The rationale given by white people for the lynchings was that Black men were ravenous for white women, and that these Black men must be put back in their places. In her definitive study published in 1892, she exposed this rationale as totally false and as an excuse to terrorize Black people. Her public stance was both educational and dangerous. Black leaders like Frederick Douglass told her how much her study had helped them. White leaders in Memphis, where she lived at the time of this work, blew up her offices and put a bounty on her head. She was out of town when the terroristic attack happened, and she did not return South for 30 years.

    Third, Wells refused to let white people or men of any racial category define her. Even strong white women like Susan B. Anthony tried to direct her life, and Alice Paul refused Wells’ request to march in the front of the line at the Women’s March for the Vote in DC in 1913.  Undeterred by Paul’s racism, Wells found a way to step into the front of the line in the March.  We do Wells and ourselves a disservice by lifting her high above us, saying that she was so great or so exceptional that we cannot match her work.  While that is true on one level – Wells was truly exceptional – Wells herself would tell us that it is now our tine to step into the March.  The forces of oppression and suppression are gaining strength, and we must speak up and act out.  

"WHERE THE WHITE MAN DOES AS HE PLEASES"

 “WHERE THE WHITE MAN DOES AS HE PLEASES”

During this past week, I was cleaning up in my upstairs office (a never-ending task), and to help pass the time, I was listening to Nanci Griffith’s wonderful CD “One Fair Summer Evening.”  Griffith died three years ago – a big loss to us all.  One of the songs on this CD was “Deadwood, South Dakota,” written by her former husband Eric Taylor.  It is about the westward expansion of those classified as “white,” and the chorus of the song is powerful and could be describing our time right now:

“And the gold she lay cold in their pockets

And the sun she sets down on the trees

And they thank the Lord

For the land that they live in

Where the white man does as he pleases”

Many of Donald Trump’s followers are fueled by this chorus – hoping to regain a world where “the white man does as he pleases.”  All the attacks on DEI, critical race theory, Black history, and teaching about the history of racism are lodged in this complaint by white men:  we want to make America again, to make America white again, to have the white man do as he pleases.  This is why white people elected Trump:  we want to live in a land where the white man can do as he pleases.

The interesting part, of course, is that Trump is not driven by ideology but rather by a deep anxiety and anger about being held accountable.  His insistence on DEI being the cause of the DC plane crash is a bone to his base, but it is also something much deeper.  Three of the five prosecutions of Trump were led by Black people:  Alvin Bragg, Letitia James, and Fani Willis.  Trump is toxic because he wants to blow up the government that has sought to hold him accountable, that has bound him, prosecuted him, convicted him.   And, the real reason for the DC crash is that Republicans have savaged the FAA flight controller budgets for decades, beginning with Reagan’s smashing of the flight controller’s union over 40 years ago.  And, it is a terrible thing to say about the tragic loss of lives in DC and now Philadelphia, but it is the chickens coming home to roost.  We are fortunate that we have dedicated and competent flight controllers, who have prevented many more crashes, but the volume is starting to overwhelm them.

I’m also thinking about the despicable “immigration” raids now being carried out by ICE under Trump’s orders.  There are undoubtedly some immigrants who need to be deported, but now the “shock and awe” approach is stunning.  Many of those being arrested and detained and deported are law-abiding folks, and some of them are here legally.  The desire for white men to do as we please is overwhelming, however, and it is a travesty and a tragedy.  It is reminiscent of the 1850's when "slavecatchers" went North to round up people who had escaped from slavery - not only were people formerly held as slaves terrified and tortured, but many free Black people were also treated in the same despicable manner.  We are that country, whether it is Dixie, or the USA.

So, it is now time to speak up and act out.  Join with other human rights groups, or form your own.  Let your legislators know your opinions.  Donate to groups who are opposing the Trumpster agenda. Go to demonstrations, but also get ready to participate in acts of resistance.  If we fail on this, we will return to the land where the white man does as he pleases, where women are pushed back and where people of color are once again seen legally as second-class persons. 

"DAVID STROUPE!"

 “DAVID STROUPE!”

Our son David Stroupe was born in Norfolk, Virginia, on a snowy evening 45 years ago on January 31, 1980.  He has been a great gift to us and to so many others in this crazy world.  He currently teaches science education at the University of Utah in Salt Lake City, after a long stint at Michigan State.

This year is the year of the Snake on the Chinese zodiac, and in that system, the snake symbolizes wisdom, elegance, and intuition.  David is a snake guy, so this is his year.  He is wise and has great intuition, but elegance is not one of his main qualities.  Indeed, when he was a graduate student at the University of Washington, getting his PhD in science education, his adviser and mentor Dr. Mark Windschitl    indicated that he was impressed with David’s intelligence and work habits.  Dr.  Windschitl told David that he would like to take David to some Congressional hearings, where he sometimes testified before Congressional committees.  He told David, however, that before he would consider taking him, that David would have to get one good pair of shoes – the shoes that he had seen David wearing did not fit that category.  We ended up helping pick out and pay for a “good pair of shoes.”

    As I said, David became a snake guy.  I’m not sure when exactly he crossed over to the world of herpetology, but he learned a lot of it in the creek in front of our house on Kirk Road in Decatur.  He went to Davidson College and was a biology major there.  He was an assistant in herpetology there, and I remember him calling me early in his snake career saying:  “Dad, I caught a snake today, and it bit me 5 times, but don’t tell Mom!”  I replied:  “Well, I hope that it wasn’t a poisonous snake,” and his retort was:  “Dad, I’d never pick up a poisonous snake.”  But, of course he did, as I found out later.

    He became known there as ‘The Snake Guy” because he was often the “go to” guy in what was then a small town – if you had snakes in your house, he would remove them for you.  He also did demonstrations on reptiles and amphibians with church and school groups.  In those demonstrations, it was clear that he was a natural teacher, and that is what he ended up doing.

We had a great time with him and Susan and Erin and Emma and Zoe at our 50th wedding anniversary this summer.  He and Susan organized it and were the emcees for it. Of course, there was dancing, where I once again was recognized as best male dancer.  At the end of the occasion, David and Susan announced that they had arranged for the City of Decatur to install a bench in Harmony Park in the Oakhurst neighborhood, where we labored and did ministry for over 30 years.  The plaque for that bench is in the photograph – if you live in the area, go see it sometime! Harmony Park is located on land where Caroline and I used to lead the Easter parade after Oakhurst worship for singing and proclamation.  It is also a park where we pushed the city of Decatur to establish safe space where Black youth could hang out without being harassed by the gentrifying businesses in the changing neighborhood.  So, we were glad for David and Susan to work this out for this space.

    David has written two books for Harvard University Press and edited others, and this year he is starting a term as editor of the journal “Science Education.”  We are so proud of him, but we are most proud that he has a wide heart and a keen mind– even for snakes.  These qualities make him such a great son, dad, husband, teacher, mentor, friend, and human being.  So many memories, so many stories to tell, so many stories to come!  We give thanks for him being in our lives!  Happy Birthday, David!

"MLK"

 “MLK”

One could hardly imagine a greater contrast on January 20 than the comparison between the national holiday for Martin Luther King, Jr., and inauguration of Donald Trump as the 47th president of the United States.  Though King has been sanitized over the 57 years since his assassination in Memphis, he was a powerful leader for justice and equity.  I will write more on Trump later, but for now, I will say that I have seen his spirit before in the neo-slavery South – Faubus, Wallace, Barnett, Talmadge.  The issue now, of course, is that he intends to make white supremacy even stronger again.  In light of this, I want to revisit a column that I wrote for The Atlantic in 2018, as they reflected on 1968. They asked me to write about Martin Luther King, Jr., and here is that column.  

Doubting MLK During a Strike in Memphis

Reprint from The Atlantic Online

A retired Presbyterian pastor looks back on 1968, when he participated in the civil-rights struggle but hadn’t yet embraced the principles of nonviolence.

Jan 13, 2018

    I was a senior in college in 1968 at Southwestern at Memphis (now Rhodes College), when the garbage workers strike in Memphis came to the public eye.  I joined other Southwestern students who were part of that strike.  That movement was part of a continuing shift for me in my own consciousness, as I began to change from a white person raised in the segregated South to a white person who gradually began to see how captive I was to the power of race.

            I had been taught racism by really decent white people in my hometown on the Arkansas side of the Mississippi River Delta – my family, my church, my teachers.  I believed that white people were superior, and that black people would never be our peers or equals.  If at times my experience seemed to teach otherwise, I was like Thomas Jefferson in his writings on “Notes on Virginia.”  Though he agonized over the ideas of equality and slavery,  he indicated that he could not find evidence of the equality of people of African heritage.

Education was one of my paths out of this total captivity to race.  Though most of my public school teachers were believers in race, one of my English teachers, a Jewish woman in our small Arkansas town, suggested that I read Alan Paton’s “Cry, the Beloved Country” about apartheid in South Africa.  I read it, and in it I met my first black person.  Oh yes, I had seen many black people in my youth, but I had not considered any of them to be a person as I was.

            My college years began to expand my horizons, and I began to hang out with the first black students at Southwestern.   In my junior year, I was one of the leaders of demonstrations that helped to close down a restaurant that refused to serve one of my black friends.   As 1968 began, I joined other white and black young people around the country who had begun to believe that Martin Luther King, Jr. and his way of nonviolence were not only irrelevant, but were counterproductive and even dangerous.   Though I was not yet swayed by H. Rap Brown’s emphasis on the fundamental nature of violence in American life, it seemed to be the only way that justice might come for people of African heritage.  

            I jumped into the garbage strike, going on marches, seeking to organize and educate others.  I was part of group of students who went to churches on Sunday mornings, standing up to interrupt worship to shout “Support the garbage strike.”  We would usually be escorted out of worship, but a few people were sympathetic.   I retired from the ministry in 2017, and I have often wondered what I would have done as a worship leader, if such interruptions had come in my time.  Fortunately, none ever did, and I’d like to think that it was because Oakhurst Presbyterian was such a progressive church, but I know that the issue remains in my heart.

            Many of us felt that there was a possibility of victory in the garbage strike, and when Dr. King agreed to come to Memphis to support the strike, we had ambivalent feelings.  It seemed to us that he was only trying to capture the headlines, and the organizing seemed to be going well without him.   When his first march was organized, it ended in violence, as black youth and police clashed.  Dr. King seemed stunned that the black youth did not hold him and his principle of nonviolence in high esteem, and he was returning to Memphis in early April of 1968 to organize a bigger march that he intended to stay nonviolent.   I had an opportunity to go to Mason Temple to hear what would be his last sermon on April 3, but to my eternal regret, my lack of respect for him and my cynicism kept me from attending.

            I was working in the college library on the evening of April 4, and when my shift ended a little after 6 PM, I was walking out of the library, and one of my black student friends came up to me to say, in anger and in disgust, that Dr. King had been shot and would likely not live.  He then asked me:  “Some of my friends are organizing for the revolutionary fight.  We want to buy guns.  Can you lend me some money to help buy guns?”  I was stunned by his revelation and by his question, and I did not know how to respond.  I have racked my brain, but I cannot remember whether I gave him any money or not.  I was a relatively poor student, and I did not have money to spare anyway. 

            Violence followed in Memphis and throughout the country – the great apostle of nonviolence was gunned down by white people, and it seemed like all hope was lost.  I remember the National Guard armored cars riding up and down the streets in Memphis, and I remember feeling lost and forlorn.  That feeling was strengthened by the assassination of Robert Kennedy two months later and by the violence of the police at the Democratic convention in that summer, followed by the election of Richard Nixon as president that fall.

            I have thought over these events many times since then, and I have gained great respect for Dr. King over the years – I wish that I had known then what I know now!  Though it is greatly diminished, the power of race remains in me.  And, though I understand the impulse and sometimes the agency of violence, I am firmly committed to the principle of nonviolent resistance which Dr. King developed so well.   The continuing struggle for equality for black people, for women, for immigrants, for LGBTQ people reminds me that this struggle is ongoing in American history.  I don’t know if 2018 will be similar to 1968 or not, but I do know that in all of our work, the two forces of love and justice must be kept in proper tension.  As James Cone indicated in his fine book on Dr. King and Malcolm X,  King began with love and moved towards justice, while Malcolm X began with justice and moved towards love.  Both of those must be present if we are to build and sustain movements and communities dedicated to equity and justice.

"CARTER AND TRUMP"

 “CARTER AND TRUMP”

We watched a lot of the proceedings last week as the life of President Jimmy Carter was remembered and celebrated.  Since he was a native Georgian, the local media covered everything, from the service at the Carter Center, to the service at the National Cathedral in DC, to the funeral in Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains, Georgia, where his body was laid to rest next to Rosalyn’s in Plains.  Much was said about his faith, his integrity, his rise to political power, his Presidency, and his post-Presidency.  What struck me most of all was the emphasis on his decency as a human being.  

We remember Carter’s presidency – we were pastors in Norfolk during those years, and we watched closely his attempts to rescue the American hostages from Iran.  The husband of one of our church staff members was involved in the attempted but abandoned rescue effort.  We were impressed that Carter decided early on not to use overt military force to seek to rescue the hostages.  Carter was caught in a policy trap set for many decades – the American use of military and monetary power to maintain a grip on the oil of the Mid-East.  When the first wave of the Arab revolutions came, the anger at the USA poured out.

As grandson Jason Carter put it at the Carter Center (where he is chair of the Board), President Carter was on time but also ahead of his time in regards to the climate and environmental crisis, getting the speed limits lowered to 55 on interstates and installing solar panels on the roof of the White House (which his successor Ronald Reagan removed in the beginning of the Reagan Revolution, which has now culminated in the ascendancy of Donald Trump). 

As we watched the services for Jimmy Carter, it was hard not to compare him to incoming president Donald Trump.  There could not be more differences between them.  Carter seemed to be guided by a genuine sense of his own and other’s humanity, and his faith in God kept him humble and open to his own need for reformation and change.  While Carter admitted in a Playboy interview that he had sinned by lusting after women other than his spouse, Trump has been convicted in civil and criminal courts of sexual assault and bragged about how he knew how to get women by grabbing them by their private parts and invading their space.  In many ways, Trump acts like Roman Emperor Caligula, while Jimmy Carter taught Sunday school as much as he could.  In no small touch of irony, the white Christian Right deserted Carter for Reagan in the 1980 election, and in the 2024 election, Trump won 80% of the white Christian Right vote. For a powerful (and scary) article about this flow to Trump, read my friend John Blake’s column on CNN on January 12 : https://www.cnn.com/2025/01/12/us/white-christian-nationalism-du-mez-cec/index.html.  But, let us also remember – Trump has no landslide mandate.  Had 115,000 votes changed in the Blue Wall states of Michigan, Wisconsin and Pennsylvania, Kamala Harris would be Madame President.

We had our struggles with Jimmy Carter, especially as he sought to take over the Oakhurst neighborhood with his Atlanta Project.  He believed that he knew it all and refused to listen to people like us, who had been in the trenches for awhile.  Fortunately, we knew the local coordinator of TAP, and we worked it out, even getting Rosalyn Carter to come to the church to see some of the programs. But overall, his humanity and his generosity shined through, as we saw in the services last week.  As we await the coronation of the would-be-emperor Donald Trump (about which I’ll have more to say soon), we give thanks for the life, leadership, and decency of Jimmy Carter.  

"ARE YOU ARYAN?"

 “ARE YOU ARYAN?”

    Today Congress certified that Donald Trump was elected President of the United States in last November’s election, a day in stark contrast with the Trump-inspired insurrection at the last Congressional certification on this date in 2021.

    Today is  also the Day of Epiphany, or January 6 in the Western church. It marks the end of the season of Christmastide.   After this time the church switches from Christmastide to Epiphany, until the season of Lent arrives on Ash Wednesday (this year, that is March 5).

        Epiphany signifies a revelation, an opening in the individual imagination and in the imagination of the world.  The church tradition remembers this as the coming of strangers, of the Magi.  They were Gentiles coming to worship the baby Jesus and to proclaim that they had seen God’s revelation in this baby.  It is striking in Matthew’s account of this story in chapter 2 that the first people outside the family to see the baby are Gentiles, seers from another culture.  It is also striking that Matthew contrasts this worshipful attitude of the Gentiles with the murderous impulse of the rulers of the area, most especially King Herod.

Matthew’s story tells us that the Magi show up in Jerusalem, inquiring about the new ruler of Judea.  Herod, the ruler at that time, is filled with anxiety at this news, and he develops a plan to find this baby and kill him.  The Magi, however, counter his plan and do their work without revealing to Herod where the baby is in Bethlehem.  Herod reacts to this with horrific violence, ordering all the boys of Bethlehem ages 2 and under to be murdered.  It is a chilling and horrible penultimate chapter in the Christmas story.  Joseph,  the adopted father of Jesus, takes his family and flees as refugees to Egypt – we are glad that they were a welcoming country and did not have a wall built.

I was reminded of this story as I finished reading “My Lord, What A Morning,” an autobiography by the great contralto singer Marian Anderson.  Susan gave it to me for my birthday in November, and she noted that she found it in the “used “ section in the Avant Pop Bookstore in Las Vegas.  It was published in 1956 and went through five printings.  It is a bit dated, but many of the stories are still powerful.  For those young people who read this blog, Marian Anderson was an African-American opera singer who stunned many white people in the 1930’s and 40’s with her powerful and accomplished voice.  

In 1939, she sought to schedule a benefit concert at Constitution Hall in DC, but the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) refused her permission to do it because she was Black.  First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt intervened and helped to schedule the concert at the Lincoln Memorial.  The DAR later relented, and Anderson sang at the Hall in 1943.

Anderson experienced this kind of thing many times, which she notes in her autobiography.  One such experience stood out to me.  In the 1930’s, she was touring Europe after Hitler had come to power in Germany.  While she was performing in Poland, she received a request from Germany to sing in Berlin.  Here is how she describes that process:

“I was not eager to appear in the Germany of those days…..My manager offered Berlin a single date.  The answer came back that this date would not be the best, but since there was no alternative, this would be accepted.  The fee was also acceptable.  There was only one other question – was Marian Anderson an Aryan?  My manager replied that Miss Anderson was not one-hundred-per-cent Aryan.  That ended the correspondence.”

“Are you Aryan? Are you white?”  Those questions are at the heart of our racial history, and as the Magi story reminds us, the first visitors to see the baby Jesus were not Aryan.  And as the Make-America-White-Again president-elect prepares to take office for a second time, we would do well to read this Epiphany story and Marian Anderson’s story again.  They will be at the heart of the next Trump administration, and we should be prepared to make our responses.