Sister Days

Janus Adams

Description

Stories from the Amazing journey of African American Women

"Whether read as history or practical inspiration, the stories of bravery, intelligence, and fortitude revealed . . . give a unique road map to rediscovering sister power."-The New American

"A collection of . . . moving stories that celebrate the lives of black women who have overcome the many obstacles in their paths to pursue their dreams."-African Sun Times

Now in paperback, Sister Days offers you a daily invitation to share in the life-affirming legacy of African American women. Here are 365 uplifting meditations on courage, daring, and resistance that bring us valuable reminders of how real women in real times-from Harriet Tubman to aviator Bessie Coleman to Wild West legend "Stagecoach Mary" to world-renowned writer Maya Angelou-created a better way of life for themselves and a better world for others. In reading their stories, we ensure that these women live on-as shining beacons to light our own quests for happier, more fulfilled lives.

Sujets

• Histoire
• African-American history
• History

Informations

• Publié par: Turner Publishing Company
• Date de parution: 21 avril 2008
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780470308561
• Langue: English

Extrait

Sister Days
Sister Days
365 Inspired Moments in African American Women s History

Janus Adams
This book is printed on acid-free paper.
Copyright 2000 by Janus Adams. All rights reserved
Published by John Wiley Sons, Inc.
Published simultaneously in Canada
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without either the prior written permission of the Publisher, or authorization through payment of the appropriate per-copy fee to the Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923, [phone], fax [phone]. Requests to the Publisher for permission should be addressed to the Permissions Department, John Wiley Sons, Inc., 605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158-0012, [phone], fax [phone], email: [e-mail].
This publication is designed to provide accurate and authoritative information in regard to the subject matter covered. It is sold with the understanding that the publisher is not engaged in rendering professional services. If professional advice or other expert assistance is required, the services of a competent professional person should be sought.
ISBN 0-471-28361-4
Printed in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For my grandmothers and great-grandmothers beyond For my daughters and theirs yet unborn
Acknowledgments
In the researching and writing of Freedom Days , I came upon a quote by Septima Clark, known in Civil Rights movement lore as Mother Conscience. A proverbial lightbulb suddenly flared inside my head as I read her words condemning movement leaders for minimizing the role of women. Bearing witness, said she: The work the women did during the time of civil rights is what really carried the movement along. [It] would never have taken off if some women hadn t started to speak up. What was true then had forever been true; as half the world, women had been no less than half the struggle, no less than half the story, and sometimes a lot more. And, as I read her words, as the lightbulb shone, I knew what book I d have to write as soon as I could-a celebration of how we, as women of African descent with ancient roots of culture and courage, have fared the flames of racism, colonialism, slavery, and segregation-and yet borne a collective self complete, gentle, and strong.
I called my lawyer and friend, Joan G. Zooper, and tried the idea on for size. After Glory Days and Freedom Days , what will you call it, she said- Sister Days ? We giggled with a tickle, and then found ourselves silent. Sister Days , she came back, that s the title, yes, that s what it should be. And, so it is-inspired by a mother, reasoned by a sister-friend, forged by family and friends as encouraging as they have been courageous in their time-my mother, Muriel Tuitt; my daughters, Ayo and Dara Roach; and sisters Cheryl Hill, Sharon Robinson, and Sonia Sanchez.
Thanks are due to a network of librarians and archivists in Wilton, Westport, Stamford, and Greenwich, Connecticut; at the Beinecke Archives at Yale University; at the Schomburg Collection of the New York Public Library; and at the Indiana and Philadelphia Historical Societies. A thank-you, too, to A Lelia Bundles for sharing research on her great-great-grandmother, Madam C. J. Walker.
Thanks to the team at John Wiley: Carole Hall, who brought me to shore, my editor, Hana Lane, and production manager, Diane Aronson.
To the Brothers who love the Sisters, thank you, too. And to the Sisters who love life, thank you for the wind at my back.
Introduction
In the beginning, the story is told, this is how things came to be-the who was who and what was what-between Man and Woman.
What the gods had given Man, the gods had given Woman. What he could do, she could do. What he had in knowledge and strength, she had too. Everything was even, for that was God s plan. Then one day the two got into a terrible row. Maybe it was that snake in the grass thing again, when the gods called Man to account and he blamed Woman for tempting him with her apple pie. Maybe it was something like that. Whatever it was, it went on so long that Man finally walked out, slammed the garden gate, and headed up to Heaven to have a talk with God.
There s got to be a way to put an end to all this commotion, Man said to himself. And all the while he s walking, he s talking to himself, he s remembering the good times when he, Man, was in charge of everything and Woman was just a rib. By the time he got to Heaven he knew what he wanted. Man walked right up to the gods counsel and stated his case. He said, God, I ve got a woman down ther-r-r-re, uh, uh, uh. He said, God grant me strength to deal with that woman. And God did. God gave Man more strength. He knew what was going on. He had given equally to both, but there was something about that Woman that made all that Creating and sun-rising and moon-making a whole lotta fun. But, business was business. With his extra strength, Man could also better tend the fields and the flock. So it was done. And Man was ecstatic. He raced home to tell Woman that he was boss now; with his strength he was king!
Well, as you can imagine, Woman was having none of that. Night and day, she said, day and night I work my fingers to the bone and he s the one gets the strength? No, no, no, no, no. Time for a talk. God wouldn t do a thing like that. And, wasn t her God a woman? Out the garden gate she sped and up to Heaven she went. Just like that. Before she knew it, she was there, for once Woman made up her mind to do a thing, the thing got done. She had heard that just before she got to Heaven, she could freshen up a bit at the Pearly Gates, so she would stop off to do that-shake the dust off her feet, you know, out of respect. There at the Gates she spied a set of golden keys, exquisite in construct, stunning in simplicity, ageless in design. But this was no time to admire the decor. At Heaven s Gate she turned right and found the gods waiting for her. From what Man had said, they knew that she would come around in her own time. Now God, she said, with all you ve given me, I hate to trouble you. But, she said, God whatever that was you gave my Man you need to give him a little less. But God said no, a gift is a gift, you don t take it back. They could give her more strength too, but keeping Man and Woman even in all things hadn t worked out according to plan. She thought. They thought. Then, she remembered the keys at the gate. So you saw the Keys to the Kingdom, they smiled all-knowing. She could have them if she liked. They knew greater wisdom was a gift she would use well. Thankful, she said her praises and rushed home to Man. He had his strengths, for sure, but she had greater wisdom.
And that s why things are the way they are to this day. Man holds up his end, but Woman holds the power. So it was told by our mother s mothers and so it is to this day true: women hold the Keys to the Kingdom. In her wisdom, the Great Mother has passed on her stories; from them our herstory has come.
Come, let me tell you a Nancy story, I would hear my grandmother call, when I seemed in need of a little soothing down. Years later I decoded her Caribbean lilt to learn that a Nancy was Ananci, the trickster-spider who spun a web of African lore. But each story no matter its filigree would have the same moral, the same reason for being told: to share her philosophy of life. All things are one, said Grandma. In this world, everything is related, all things are one. And sometimes in her daily sojourn, the endless struggles with her life and times, she would pause, situate herself, and exhale. I d write a book, but who would read it, she would say, knowing her vindication would not soon come.
I remember, too, the days my grandfather would walk my cousin and me along the New York harbor to teach us about geography and life with lessons charted by the ports of call of the ships at shore. And then he d stand at the pier, his figure etched against the sunset, his arm pointing to places we would some day have to go-to see and to be.
Places like Jamestown, Virginia. In August 1619 a Dutch man-of-war sailed into harbor in colonial Jamestown, traded its human cargo for food, and launched an industry so successful that even today-nearly four hundred years later-vast stretches of the African continent remain underpopulated. Slavery in the Americas consumed more than one hundred million African lives-but not their souls.
Visiting that Jamestown site, I marvel at what happened to those first African Americans and what has sustained their descendants-their powerful stories of history, heritage, and hope, a saga I began retelling with Glory Days , my first book in what has become a trilogy. From our Glory Days (a thirty-five hundred year daily memoir of African Americans in their time) to our Freedom Days (a celebration of the extended Civil Rights years at one with the global movement for Pan-African liberation) and now to our Sister Days -the story of our sojourn and of our Sojourners: a trailblazer s diary of routes charted by our Harriets and our Hatshesputs, by our Nailahs and our Nefertitis, our Rashidas and our Rosas.
And what a herstory we have made, what stories our lives tell. And ain t I a woman? Sojourner Truth is said to have rallied, challenging the narrowed eye of a norm. With higher expectation, we have conjured a womanhood others have dared attempt to deny and made real the worlds we would behold. It s quite a legacy, as you ll read on these pages, these odes to our womanhood.
I remember a conversation with an administrator. Asked why her school district was so reluctant to include African American history and multicultural perspectives in the curriculum, she seemed caught off-guard. The truth