Travel South

I started this while sitting at the Montgomery airport, awaiting a slightly late flight, catching up on some reading on and off line. I've just been in Auburn, AL, with my husband for a conference on university architecture for university architects. It's his conference, but they have a guest program that was wonderful. It's a week long conference, but I am leaving two days early because I was anxious about being gone so long with a home improvement project just beginning (new windows, roof, and railing for the sunroom) and the kids at home, but part of me wishes I stayed until Saturday with my husband ... except they have a tropical storm rolling in from the Gulf, so weather delays could extend his trip. 

Auburn has a beautiful campus, which has grown exponentially in the last decade or two.  We have some friends who are Auburn alumni, and they drove a few hours south to join us for dinner last night. They pointed how much has changed since they were students in the 90's. Like everything built recently, it's bigger, shinier, sleeker. The new architecture blends well with the old, sometimes complementing, sometimes copying. There are some older structures from the 70s-90s that look dated and tired because they were built quickly to look new without reference to the historic references, but those are being renovated or torn down to make way for newer buildings that follow a master plan with more consistent design guidelines, as well as more requirements to support sustainability. 

Our trip included began with a rerouted flight to Atlanta because of bad weather (instead of the originally scheduled Montgomery). Since I had never really visited the city except for the airport, we decided to spend Sunday morning there instead of heading straight to Auburn. After a late night/early morning arrival, we slept in. We ended up going to Mass at Our Lady of Lourdes, which is the oldest church serving the Black Catholic Community in Atlanta.  Needless to say, the Gospel music was incredible, and the Mass was full of vitality. 

Just blocks away from the church is the Martin Luther King, Jr., National Park, which includes a visitor center with artifacts from his life and from other civil rights figures including his wife Coretta, whose influence is underappreciated. His birth place is just down the street, but it was closed to visitors, as was the Ebenezer Baptist Church where he was pastor.  We spent some time at the reflecting pool and tomb where he and his wife Coretta are interred. It was moving monument, but in need of some repair and full of potential to be something more educational and transformative. 

Burial monument for Coretta Scott King and Martin Luther King, Jr.

 

MLK's suits and tie tacks and cufflinks. A miraculous medal is among the accessories in the jewelry box 

 

MLK's birthplace. He was born at home here.

 

The Ebenezer Baptist Church

 

Scenes from the Auburn campus:

Samford Hall, one of the early buildings and most iconic on campus

 

This was at one time the university president's home

The stadium holds 87000 people. About 35K students attend Auburn.

Met this baby screech owl at the Auburn Raptor Center, a rehabilitation center as well as home to the war eagle.

 

Retired War Eagle #7 Nova

On our third day in Alabama, the guest program participants were treated to a tour of murals - but rain made this a bus tour instead of a walking tour, which would have been lovely. The tour ended up in the neighboring town of Opelika, where we also drove up and down some blocks of beautiful Southern homes representing various architectural styles. I'm sure this town has been featured in Southern Living Magazine.  The gardens were gorgeous, and many of the homes had deep front porches featured blue ceilings, comfortable furnishings, and big, flourishing baskets of ferns and other plants. 

We lunched at a place called Botanic that was a restaurant and a nursery and greenhouse. A dining and plant experience. 

A magnolia mural in Auburn

An original 1907 vintage Coca-cola mural in an old hardware store in Opelika

 

Scenes from Botanic

  

On Wednesday the guests at the conference visited the Equal Justice Initiative's Legacy museums in Montgomery Alabama. Our first stop was the National Memorial for Peace and Justice. This was a much larger and impactful experience than the MLK, Jr. National Park. The Legacy museum features three locations: the monument, a sculpture park, and a museum. I missed the museum because I had to head to the airport. At the Memorial, metal coffin-sized rectangular prisms recorded the names and dates of men and women who were lynched across the United States. Other areas included narratives describing the victims' stories. It was a somber reminder of the darkness and ignorance that can cloud the human heart and be perpetuated across time and place. Fortunately, goodness and justice can also be spread across time and place, as memorials such as this seek to do.

 

 

  

 

The second part of the tour to the Freedom Monument Sculpture Park is reached by river ferry down the Alabama river following part of the path that the slave trade followed to a small island. We got caught in a torrential downpour and the sculpture park does not allow photos except at the very end and very beginning, so I didn't take many photos of this part of our tour. The website includes a few, but many were exceptionally beautiful and moving. The island is dedicated to the story of slavery in the south. There were incredible statues and reproductions of slave train cars and relocated slave quarters.  Stone plinths included poetry and slave narratives. The experience was more moving than I can describe here. I wish I remembered some of the sculpture artists' names to share their work. 

The entry to the Freedom Monument 

This wall contains the family names of over 100000 freed slaves. Like the names of many who were lynched, many slave names remain undocumented. 

While this part of the trip was somber, it was also inspiring. Suffering causes deep and lasting wounds, but resilience and the beauty that comes from survival testify to the capacity of the heart to rise and to continue to love.  Many of the stories at the Freedom Monument recounted the strong familial bonds that persisted even when families were forcibly separated and sold apart. 

I am so grateful I decided to attend this conference. I was a bit reluctant to commit back in the spring, and now I partly wish I had continued with the experience. The kids - meaning my 22, 20 and 12 year old - were fine and kept busy at home working and attending Totus Tuus (the 12 year old helped with the younger kids in the morning and attended the middle school session in the afternoon, so she was worn out by the end of the day.) But life moves on, and we have a full summer ahead. 

 Again I am reminded that every region has natural beauty, historical significance, and wonderful people. One of the many pleasures of travel. 

Another is the peace that settles in your bones when you return home, ready to rest and reconnect.

Poetry Foundation links

My son shared this poem today by Lucille Clifton, which led to a diversion into the offerings of the Poetry Foundation.  Poetry speaks when we are not quite sure what to say.  

jasper texas 1998

BY LUCILLE CLIFTON

for j. byrd

i am a man's head hunched in the road.

i was chosen to speak by the members

of my body. the arm as it pulled away

pointed toward me, the hand opened once

and was gone.

why and why and why

should i call a white man brother?

who is the human in this place,

the thing that is dragged or the dragger?

what does my daughter say?

the sun is a blister overhead.

if i were alive i could not bear it.

the townsfolk sing we shall overcome

while hope bleeds slowly from my mouth

into the dirt that covers us all.

i am done with this dust. i am done.

Lucille Clifton, "jasper texas 1998" from Blessing the Boats: New and Selected Poems 1988-2000. Copyright © 2000 by Lucille Clifton. Reprinted with the permission of BOA Editions, Ltd. Source: Blessing the Boats: New and Selected Poems 1988-2000 (BOA Editions Ltd., 2000)

Boy Breaking Glass

BY GWENDOLYN BROOKS

To Marc Crawford
from whom the commission

Whose broken window is a cry of art   

(success, that winks aware

as elegance, as a treasonable faith)

is raw: is sonic: is old-eyed première.

Our beautiful flaw and terrible ornament.   

Our barbarous and metal little man.

“I shall create! If not a note, a hole.   

If not an overture, a desecration.”

Full of pepper and light

and Salt and night and cargoes.

“Don’t go down the plank

if you see there’s no extension.   

Each to his grief, each to

his loneliness and fidgety revenge.

Nobody knew where I was and now I am no longer there.”

The only sanity is a cup of tea.   

The music is in minors.

Each one other

is having different weather.

“It was you, it was you who threw away my name!   

And this is everything I have for me.”

Who has not Congress, lobster, love, luau,   

the Regency Room, the Statue of Liberty,   

runs. A sloppy amalgamation.

A mistake.

A cliff.

A hymn, a snare, and an exceeding sun.

Gwendolyn Brooks, “Boy Breaking Glass,” from Blacks (Chicago: Third World Press, 1987). Reprinted by consent of Brooks Permissions. Source: Blacks (Third World Press, 1987)

Homage to Black Madonnas

BY MARGARET BURROUGHS

Venerable black women

You of yesterday, you of today.

Black mothers of tomorrow yet to be

These lines are homage to you, for you. 

Magnificent black women

The poets and singers have been remiss

Have sung too few poems and songs of you

And the image makers have not recorded your beauty.

Sheba, Nefertiti, Zaiditu, Cleopatra.

Black women, Mothers of humanity, Mother original

Your black children here salute you.

You, bartered, sold, insulted, raped and defiled,

Debased and debauched for four centuries. 

Strong women, Gannet, Tubman and Truth. 

Weary black women

Your breasts gaunt from nurturing theirs first

And later sustaining yours, caring for theirs

At the same instance providing for yours also.

Women forgotten, Mandy, Melindy, Cindy, and Lisa.

Gentle black women

While being hated, yet teaching love

Being scorned, yet teaching respect

Being humiliated and teaching Compassion.

Humble women, Bessie, Mattie, Lucey, Ann and Willie Mae. 

Resourceful black women, with tact

Managing to make do, alter clothing,

Stretch meals, Making room, Prodding, Bolstering

Nudging us on, Protecting, teaching survival. 

Laney, Bethune, Keckley, Terrel and Brown. 

Militant black women, defending yours with fury

Standing firm, picketing and demonstrating

Kneeling in, sitting in and wading in

Standing, walking, marching and boycotting. 

Parks, Wells, Pleasant and Louvestre. 

Discerning black women, women of genius

Setting your children a proper example

Teaching that each generation must do its part

To improve life for those coming after. 

Nannie, Gaines, Burroughs, Maggie Walker. 

Courageous black women, brave and fearless

Seeking to make a home among the unfriendly

Sending your children off to school

To pass unscathed through walls of hate.

Lucy, Bates, Richardson, and Hamer.

Angry black women and understanding

Aware of efforts to stunt your men

Yet urging them manhood again.

Diana, Gloria, Thelma, Ethel, Eva and Marion.

Heroic black women, women of glory

Not turning back, never giving up

Equalling, surpassing the stature

Of any race of women, anywhere, any time.

Billie, Ella, Dinah, Sis-Sirretta, Mahalia.

Black women of genius, brilliant women

Walking through the hateful valleys

In dignity, strength and such serene composure

That even your enemies tremble insecure. 

Hansberry, Talbert, Bonds and Baker. 

Magnificent black women, hopeful women

Believing that trouble doesn't last always

Knowing this truth, that those who are slaves today

May well be the masters tomorrow, even sooner. 

Sisters with all women, black women

Your sufferings echo those of all the oppressed.

Join together all of you in a universal cry

For Peace and the good life for all. The world listens. 

Margaret Burroughs, "Homage to Black Madonnas" from What Shall I Tell My Children Who Are Black?.  Copyright © 1968, 1992 by Margaret Burroughs.  Reprinted by permission of the Margaret Burroughs Estate. 

Other poems by Margaret Burroughs can be found here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/146263/what-shall-i-tell-my-children-who-are-black-reflections-of-an-african-american-mother

and the first two poems are from this collection:

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/collections/101581/poems-of-protest-resistance-and-empowerment

Causes for celebrating and slumping

This week is full of birthdays: The 18th would have been John Paul II's 100th birthday. Yesterday was my mother-in-law's birthday. My son's fiancee celebrates a birthday on the 21st, as does our good friend from college. And I have my own birthday this weekend! All seem like good reasons to have a little cake tonight. We are always looking for some excuse to bake around here. 

Since it is also Laudato Si week, which honors the fifth anniversary of the publication of Laudato Si, maybe we should try to make cake that is waste-free. Does that mean we eat it all (no food waste!) and bake from scratch (no packaging waste!)?  For my own reference, here are links to some events and programs: https://catholicclimatemovement.global/.  One of the speakers is the director of the Yale Divinity School's program in Religion and Ecology. I listened for a little bit this morning.  Some good news is that the environment has received a little reprieve from the pandemic stay at home orders.

I have been doing a little research on potential opportunities for furthering my education. I was hoping that a happy byproduct of this Covid shut down would be some online opportunities for graduate study, but I haven't found much in the field I am researching. Since teaching the Nature Writing class, I have thought perhaps I should finally finish the Ph.D. I had started 20 years ago, although to what end, I keep asking. The the number of programs that integrate ecology and the humanities are growing.  One of my summer goals is to send out a few paper proposals to revisit an academic mindset. When I envision teaching in the long term, I am drawn to a program like this over a literature program because it moves beyond the academic to the practical and connects the arts and sciences. I vacillate between the idea of moving towards a "career" and doing something more altruistic, like volunteering more or looking into foster care now that our own kids are moving out and onward and now that our military life is nearing an end in the next year or two or three... the economic downtown has caused us to revisit whether next summer is the right time for my husband to retire and find a civilian job or take another tour with the Navy.

In other news, we received word yesterday that our college kids in Indiana will be back on campus in the fall.  That's good news, although I wouldn't have minded having them around. They return for a short summer break in a week. The plan for reopening is to minimize student travel by starting school early and ending before Thanksgiving.  The reasoning is that students will shelter in place on campus.

 On the other hand, I am frustrated by a photo in the WSJ of a casino not too far from us opening. In the photo, a line of gamblers is waiting outside the door. They certainly do not look six feet apart, nor do they all appear to be masked.  On the other hand, churches are still closed, and the policies for reconvening that the bishop is suggesting to comply with government restrictions limit attendance to only a small portion of the congregation. Parishioners 65 and older are asked to stay home, and the seating arrangement suggested does not allow families to sit together, so basically everyone with young children is being asked to stay home, too.  So many more accessible options are available - and already in practice elsewhere.  Governor Newsom apparently has been advised that his restrictions on religious services may violate some law,  In the meantime, gamblers can throw all their free money from the government away on slot machines - some casinos aren't even restricting capacity.

I can't think about that anymore because it makes me angry. But while I'm ranting, I will also add my irritation at the Wall Street Journal editors in regard to a different issue.  I am rarely moved to write about political news, but the recent opinion piece in the Wall Street Journal's Saturday Review section by Gerard Baker was incendiary. He compares the lack of press surrounding the shooting of an elderly white couple by a mentally unstable black man after a robbery to the belated outcry over the shooting of Ahmaud Arbery to suggest that the killing of young black men by white people receives disproportionate media attention.  But a stark difference exists in these cases: the alleged perpetrator in the first case was chased down and killed.  The alleged perpetrators in the Arbery killing went home to life as usual for a few months because of their personal and professional relationships with people in the police and justice departments in their area. This gross injustice reeks of an old boy network that protects the guilty and lets the innocent suffer, as well as a shocking miscarriage of justice that negates any progress in the eradication of racism, despite the media attention that Baker decries.  What precedent is set when Arbery's murder goes unprosecuted for two months on the basis of his killers' claim that it was a citizen's arrest, even though he was unarmed and hadn't committed a crime?  

I do not fear for my young adult sons' lives when they go for a jog, or wear hoodies, or get pulled over for minor traffic infractions.  My friend, however, is afraid to allow her sons to walk alone outside. My sons are white; hers are black.  Until she no longer has to live with that fear, Mr. Baker's argument is weak and perpetuates injustice.  It reads like the words of someone who wants to deny what makes him uncomfortable, but Ahmaud Arbery's story should make him feel very uncomfortable, and horrified, shocked, and saddened that such hate crimes still happen without consequences until an outcry is raised. 

Well, I realize that this post started with happy news and ended with frustration. Is the answer to avoid the news and focus on our immediate surroundings?  Should we avoid emotional engagement with national news or try to balance the response? When should we be moved to action - to write letters to the editor and to the governor?  The news has sucked hours of my attention over the past couple of months -- now I am exhausted by it. Even though I do feel we have a civic duty to be informed about social and political issues, and to engage when we can, I am not very gifted in discerning what level of engagement is too much or too little. I am a passive consumer of news, and not a very active participant in movements against injustice. 

In order to balance my self-condemnation, we did take several bags of shelf stable food that I had purchased in my initial fear that the stores would shut down to a boy scout friend's house for his family to take to the food pantry. I am never an organizer, but I am happy to be a laborer.

So now let us turn to celebrating the gift of life and eat cake. . .