Native American Sports Names

This past week, a local high school abandoned is long held mascot name. Based on the arguments that have been made, it appears that it is long past the time to end the practice that is maintained by some of our professional sports teams. So those of you who reside in Washington, D. C. (Washington Redskins); Cleveland (Cleveland Indians); or Atlanta (Atlanta Braves) you appear to have a ready made cause for you to consider supporting. What say you?

Peace.

http://indiancountrytodaymedianetwork.com/2013/11/25/california-high-school-votes-remove-apache-mascot-152415

We are the Rabbits! The Mighty, Mighty Rabbits!

This past weekend was the time for my annual pilgrimage back home to Victorville, California. I go back every year at this time to celebrate my Mom's birthday. Of course, my Mom passed away almost three years ago now, but it still is a time for me to return and pay homage to woman that gave birth to me and to the town that helped to shape me.

After driving for seven hours, I arrived at the cemetery just before sunset. I had purchased some roses at the Costco in Bakersfield so I spent a few moments clearing the grass out of my father's gravestone cup and then proceeded to place twelve flowers in my mother's cup and eleven in my father's cup. Dad got shortchanged today because one of the flower buds had broken off from the stem.

As the sun was setting on the San Bernardino Mountain range, I began to reflect on so many days of long ago and, while looking at the adjoining gravestones of my parents, I began to miss them very much. It has been many years now since they have been gone, but even now the emotions can be quite overwhelming.

***

After my time with Mom and Dad, I went and had a bite to eat at a "new" nearby Thai restaurant. The decor was actually rather classy and the food was quite good. Victorville had come a long way from the days when one of the better restaurants in town was the J.I.M. (Jesus Is Mine) Broiler.

After consuming half of my Pad See Ew, I decided to go and check out the football game at my old high school, Victor Valley High School, the Home of the Jackrabbits. For those not familiar with small towns, Friday Night in the Fall is high school football night and for the local high schools Friday night in October is the social event of the week. On this night, it was particularly special because it was homecoming. At homecoming, the game is more important and the half time is more special. At half-time is when the Homecoming Queen and King are crowned and they reign as such for the rest of their lives.

For me, returning was a blast to the past. The game was still held in the stadium where many moons ago the coaches tortured us by making us run up and down the concrete stadium steps to the point of exhaustion. Indeed the cement itself appeared to have begun to finally wear down from the thousands of "stadium runs" that have been performed over the years.

I purchased a program for this special night and, in browsing it, noticed three things. First, I noticed that unlike in my day, almost all of the players were black or Mexican. Out of the 37 faces and names that comprised the Varsity squad only three were white. In my day, it would have been more the other way around. However, oddly enough, and this is the second thing I noticed, while the football team was mostly black and Mexican, the entire coaching staff of six was white. Finally, the third thing I noticed was that at the back of the program the students had inserted an open letter to the head coach thanking him for all that he had done for them. Apparently, the Coach had served as a "father" figure for so many of the young men. Indeed, the Coach had been doing so for the last 37 years at the same school and, to my pleasant surprise, the Coach who so inspired his players was a fellow classmate of mine, a member of the Class of 1971.

Well, in fitting form, the Rabbits demonstrated the speed that rabbits are known for and were able to outrun the Granite Hill Cougars all night. During half-time the Homecoming Queen and King were crowned and, yes, the Homecoming Queen was African American. There was an unexpectedly good fireworks show and the Rabbits came back out after half-time and continued to run over and away from the Cougars. The Rabbits, the Mighty, Mighty Rabbits prevailed 35-20, and my Classmate received the traditional Gatorade bath that victorious coaches all over the country seem to receive.

 

After the teams had exchanged their display of good sportsmanship, I went down to the field and tapped my classmate on the shoulder. I congratulated him on the victory and on his career. I told him that seeing the game had been a special treat for me.  And, in that moment, the Coach, in his Gatorade soaked attire, beamed with a joy that few of us will ever know.

I left that field thinking about the influence my football coach classmate has had on the lives of hundreds, if not thousands, of young men and women throughout his 37 years at our alma mater. I paid particular note of the apparent fact that while the complexion of those in attendance at the high school had changed, this man's dedication to them had not. I thought of all this and I began to think that of all of the graduates of Victor Valley High School Class of 1971, it just might be that this football coach classmate is the most "successful" of us all.

Gandhi

Perhaps the greatest man of the twentieth century was Mohandas Gandhi. Gandhi had a long career fighting apartheid in South Africa before returning to his native India to fight British imperialism there. Gandhi's philosophy of non-violent resistance became the hallmark for such leaders as Martin Luther King and also influenced the return of Nelson Mandela from his 27 years in prison. In 1982, an Academy Award winning film was released depicting Gandhi's life. In viewing it, and later reading about Gandhi and reflecting upon his accomplishments, my life was changed. The film can be found at

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyPaMxk6VpQ

But most importantly begin the viewing at 2:45 of the movie and pay particular attention to the scene that lasts from 2:55 to 2:57. It is in that scene that the essence of Gandhi comes through and which forms the basis of my "Afro-Centric" aversion. But more on this in the next installment of Perspectives.

Puff the Magic Dragon

In November of 1963, I turned ten years old. Living in Montana at the time, I recall only a few things. Sadly, I do not recall hearing Martin Luther King's famous "I Have a Dream" speech. But I do recall the day that Kennedy was assassinated. I also recall one of the more famous popular songs of the day - "Puff the Magic Dragon", a song that became one of the indelible links to my youth. The lyrics of that song go

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Little Jackie paper loved that rascal puff,
And brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff. oh

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee.

Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail
Jackie kept a lookout perched on puffs gigantic tail,
Noble kings and princes would bow whenever they came,
Pirate ships would lower their flag when puff roared out his name. oh!

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee.

A dragon lives forever but not so little boys
Painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys.
One grey night it happened, Jackie paper came no more
And puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar.

His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain,
Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane.
Without his life-long friend, puff could not be brave,
So puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave. oh!

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee.

As a child, I grew up loving the song and the rousing manner in which we sang it in class. It was not until the Vietnam War era that I was alerted to the darker side of the song. As explained in Wikipedia,

The lyrics for "Puff, the Magic Dragon" were based on a 1959 poem by Leonard Lipton, a 19-year-old Cornell University student. Lipton was inspired by an Ogden Nash poem titled "Custard the Dragon", about a "realio, trulio little pet dragon."

The lyrics tell a story of the ageless dragon Puff and his playmate Jackie Paper, a little boy who grows up and loses interest in the imaginary adventures of childhood and leaves Puff alone and depressed. (Because of the line "A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys", the lyrics may imply to some that Jackie Paper dies.) The story of the song takes place "by the sea" in the fictional land of Honalee (the spelling used by author Lenny Lipton, though non-authoritative variations abound.)

Lipton was friends with Peter Yarrow's housemate when they were all students at Cornell. He used Yarrow's typewriter to get the poem out of his head. He then forgot about it until years later, when a friend called and told him Yarrow was looking for him, to give him credit for the lyrics. On making contact Yarrow gave Lipton half the songwriting credit, and he still gets royalties from the song.

In an effort to be gender-neutral, Yarrow now sings the line "A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys" as "A dragon lives forever, but not so girls and boys." The original poem also had a verse that did not make it into the song. In it, Puff found another child and played with him after returning. Neither Yarrow nor Lipton remembers the verse in any detail, and the paper that was left in Yarrow's typewriter in 1958 has since been lost.

In 1961, Yarrow joined Paul Stookey and Mary Travers to form Peter, Paul and Mary. The group incorporated the song into their live performances before recording it in 1962; their 1962 recording of "Puff" reached number two on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and spent two weeks atop the Billboard easy listening chart in early 1963. It also reached number ten on Billboard's R&B chart.

After the song's initial success, speculation arose — as early as a 1964 article in Newsweek — that the song contained veiled references to smoking marijuana. The word "paper" in the name of Puff's human friend (Jackie Paper) was said to be a reference to rolling papers, and the word "dragon" was interpreted as "draggin'," i.e. inhaling smoke; similarly, the name "Puff" was alleged to be a reference to taking a "puff" on a joint. The supposition was claimed to be common knowledge in a letter by a member of the public to The New York Times in 1984.

The authors of the song have repeatedly rejected this urban legend and have strongly and consistently denied that they intended any references to drug use. Peter Yarrow has frequently explained that "Puff" is about the hardships of growing older and has no relationship to drug-taking. He has also said of the song that it "never had any meaning other than the obvious one" and is about the "loss of innocence in children".

In 1976, Yarrow's bandmate Paul Stookey of Peter, Paul and Mary also upheld the song's innocence. He recorded a version of the song at the Sydney Opera House in March 1976, in which he set up a fictitious trial scene. The Prosecutor accused the song of being about marijuana, but Puff and Jackie protested. The judge finally leaves the case to the jury (the Opera House audience) and says if they will sing along with the song, it will be acquitted. The audience joins in with Stookey, and at the end of their sing-along, the judge declares "case dismissed."

*****

I suppose that these two opposing versions should be all that there are, but in my recent vacation travel to the island of Kauai, I was informed of a more allegorical interpretation of the song. According to one of the older vacationers, the song "Puff the Magic Dragon" was finalized while Peter, Paul and Mary were vacationing on the north shore of Kauai. Seeing the beautiful Pacific Ocean being buttressed by the cloud topped mountain of Bali Hai along the Na Pali coast brought back memories of the college poem and led to the lyrics being composed for the famous song. I suppose it would be easy to discount this island legend, except that in viewing the beauty of Honah Lee (Hanalei) and seeing the autumn mist (the autumnal rain clouds), I too came to believe that a magic dragon once lived by the sea. Indeed, in viewing the scenery and remembering the song, I became persuaded that the magic dragon still lives by the sea ... somewhere up in those mountains ... concealed by the clouds of our imaginations.

*****

http://www.lyricsfreak.com/p/peter+paul+mary/puff+the+magic+dragon_10205000.html

Zoom

In 1977 I made a major investment in the latest technological fad that I felt was certain to bolster my social life. I went down to an electronics store just off of University Avenue in Berkeley and plucked down $120 on an eight track tape player. As I recall, I also soon bought an eight track tape of the latest hot r&b group... a group called the Commodores. Now the eight track Commodores tape had a number of "hip" r&b tracks on it, but the song that attracted me the most was a song entitled "Zoom". You can hear it at

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xyjkwh_commodores-zoom-1977_music

Truth be told, my social life did not greatly improve by my purchase of the eight track tape player. Indeed, the only eight track tape that I can clearly recall ever purchasing was that eight track tape by the Commodores. I think we all soon found the regular cassette tapes to still be the most economical and compact means of listening to music. Nevertheless, I still fondly remember that eight track player because at that time "Zoom" became almost an anthem for me.

The lead singer on the Commodores "Zoom" soon made some other hit ballads while with the Commodores. I enjoyed listening to many of them but did not pay too much attention until the lead singer left the Commodores and began his solo career. This new venture happened to coincide with the emergence of music videos and one of the first music videos that rather intrigued me was the music video for the former Commodores lead singer's signature song entitled "Hello". That video can be found at

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PDZcqBgCS74

The "Hello" video intrigued me not just because it was a beautiful video with a beautiful song, but also because the beautiful woman who portrays the muse for the singer in the video happens to be a fellow Amherst graduate, Laura Carrington, Class of 1980.

I mention all this because a few hours ago, I watched Lionel Richie, the former lead singer for the Commodores and the singer/songwriter of "Hello" perform this song in San Jose and he mentioned that whenever he performs it around the world, invariably, the audiences know the song. Indeed, in reading about the song, it appears to have become one of his signature songs. However, I must confess, he has so many and for two solid hours he performed them magnificently. Along with an Earth, Wind & Fire concert I attended in 2007, this ranks as the best concert I have ever attended. At 64, Lionel Richie can still put on quite a show. And most fitting of all is the song that he chose as his encore. Some of you may recall it and why it's message so resonated around the world. However, for those of you who do not so remember, well, I hope you will reflect and enjoy.

http://www.ask.com/youtube?q=we+are+the+world+music+video&v=OoDY8ce_3zk

There comes a time when we heed a certain call

When the world must come together as one.
There are people dying and it's time to lend a hand
To life - the greatest gift of all.

We can't go on pretending day by day
That someone somewhere will soon make a change.
We are all a part of God's great big family

And the truth
You know
Love is all we need.

We are the world
We are the children

We are the ones who make a brighter day

So let's start giving.
There's a choice we're making
We're saving our own lives.
It's true
We'll make a better day
Just you and me.

Well
Send them your heart

So they'll know that someone cares

And their lives will be stronger and free.
As God has shown us by turning stone to bread

And so we all must lend a helping hand.
We are the world

We are the children
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So lets start giving
There's a choice we're making
We're saving our own lives
It's true we make a brighter day
Just you and me...

The Rapture, Hirofumi and Heaven

On May 22, 2011, a friend of mine wrote to me regarding the unfulfilled Rapture that had been predicted for May 21, 2011.   He said:

I did get to wondering about 2 questions yesterday afternoon: 1) what was supposed to happen to us Jews? 2) Since I was flying home at the appointed hour, would the rapture-eligible people on plans ascend all that much sooner than the earthbound Blessed ones?

At our Commencement this morning, I posed these questions to my good friend and colleague Fr. Tom, who suggested that I should have checked to see if the pilot was Jewish….

On May 24, 2011, I responded with the following:

Rob,

I do not quite know how the Rapture is supposed to work mid-flight.  However, as for the answer to your first question, I received a package this past weekend which brought this all into perspective for me.

On the day that the Rapture was to occur I received a package from Toshiko Kawamura.  Toshiko Kawamura is the wife of my longtime friend Hirofumi Kawamura.  Hirofumi and I first met in August 1975 on a Greyhound bus in Provo, Utah.  As you may recall, I came from very modest financial circumstances so part of my Amherst College experience was taking the bus seven times across the country, to and from my home state of California to Massachusetts.  On my last cross country bus trip, I was accompanied by my high school sweetheart until we reached Salt Lake City, Utah.  At that point, she continued on to San Francisco while I disembarked and took a bus headed for Los Angeles, intending to get off in my hometown of Victorville.

The first stop that the bus made on its way from Salt Lake City to Los Angeles was Provo, Utah.   In Provo, a middle aged Japanese gentleman boarded the bus.  I happened to have an empty seat next to me (oddly, I often had an empty seat next to me in those days).  Anyway, I offered the empty seat to the Japanese gentleman and, lo and behold, he accepted.  Encouraged by this act of acceptance, I attempted to engage the gentleman in some conversation with him.  He introduced himself as Hirofumi Kawamura, a citizen of Kitakyushu, Japan.  He had been in Provo, Utah, at some language center (I think at Brigham Young University) brushing up on his English language skills in preparation for his sabbatical year in California.  As serendipity would have it, he was a legal scholar who was spending his sabbatical year at the University of California at Berkeley law school but was on the bus going to Los Angeles because he wanted to see Disneyland before going to Berkeley.  Surprised I told him I was going to be going to the University of California at Berkeley law school in the Fall as well but that I was on the bus to Los Angeles because I lived in the desert community of Victorville which was on the way.

Well, as best we could, Hirofumi and I became travel companions for the remainder of our trip.  We parted in Victorville, but when I finally made it to Berkeley, I looked him up at the International House and had lunch with him.  He went back to Japan in 1976, but our friendship did not end there.  Our friendship developed over the next 33 years as we corresponded with each other and exchanged occasional gifts.  He was real proud when he wrote his book on Japanese corporate law, just as I was real proud when I wrote my first book on African and African American history.  We exchanged books.  However, I think he got more out of mine than I got out of his since I know that he can read English but I have no clue what the Japanese script that his book is printed in says.

We also exchanged notes on family matters and ultimately on religious beliefs.  Hirofumi was Buddhist, while I journeyed from an initial fundamental Christianity to my more Unitarian notions of today.  For thirty-three years, Hirofumi and I corresponded with each other but this last year I did not receive my usual reply.

On May 21, the day that, for some, the Rapture was supposed to occur, I received the package from Toshiko telling me that my friend, Hirofumi, had died.  Hirofumi was in his mid-70s so his death was not wholly unexpected, but it did catch me by surprise.  Thus, on that day, I found myself thinking a great deal about Hirofumi and what may come hereafter. 

One of the regrets I have in this life is that I was never able to visit my friend.  I would have liked to have had another long visit with him to talk with him and get to know him better.  Indeed, for me, at that particular moment, the notion of what Heaven might be like would be the ability to have the opportunity to do just that...the ability to have at least one more chat with a dear old friend.

So Rob, in my theology, that is what Heaven is for me.  Heaven is where I can once again be with those I love and with those whom I can share some special times and memories and discussions.  And in my theology,... in my Heaven, I do expect to see Hirofumi, my Buddhist friend, again, ... and, many, many, many years from now, I would like to introduce you to him. 

Take care, my friend.

Reflections on the Rapture

(This was first written on May 20, 2011)

Folks,

Here, in California, there are a number of billboards posted proclaiming tomorrow to be the Day of Judgment, the Day of the Rapture, or the Day that Jesus Returns.  If tomorrow is the Day of the Rapture, and if Jesus chooses to take me to Heaven, then I will do my best to put in a good word for all of you to be taken up with us.

If Jesus comes tomorrow and decides that I should stay and that you should go, then I would ask that you put in a good word for me upstairs and that the powers that be be asked to reconsider their decision for all of us who are left behind.

On the other hand, if Jesus does not come back tomorrow, or in our lifetime, or ever, or if Jesus was merely a man and not the Son of God, then I hope to be with you again tomorrow (or Monday) and I pray that I will still be working towards bringing about the Kingdom of Heaven  -- to the best of my ability helping to make our Heaven here on Earth.

Peace, and one way or another, I look forward to seeing you again after tomorrow.

Wes Montgomery's Bumpin' on Sunset

Once upon a time, when my Dad and my uncles were younger than I am now, they would convene in Compton and gather around my Uncle Shag's Hi-Fi Stereo and listen to Wes Montgomery's Bumpin' on Sunset while drinking some smooth brand of firewater. And in those moments, despite what their everyday lives may have been, they were the essence of cool.

Hoping that you all are having a "Cool" day, here is Wes Montgomery to help you smooth your way

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dqn3PF_DcSg

Peace

John Coltrane, The Boston Tragedy, and My Favorite Things

One of my favorite movies of all time is The Sound of Music.  I have always enjoyed the music and one of the truly special moments in the movie is when all seven of the Trapp children find themselves in Sister Maria's bedroom mostly because the majority of them are frightened by a thunderstorm.  It is at that time of turbulence that Sister Maria calms the children's nerves by singing to them about how she deals with her fears by thinking about her favorite things.  Julie Andrews' singing "My Favorite Things" is a treasured childhood memory.  What a pleasure I subsequently had many years later to learn that one of the truly great jazz musicians had transformed "My Favorite Things" into a jazz classic long before Julie Andrews sang the song in the movies.  In light of the events of yesterday in Boston, I offer you John Coltrane's "My Favorite Things" and hope that it helps you to similarly take your minds off your fears and that it takes you to a place of 

Peace,

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWG2dsXV5HI

Chateau Montelena, Feng Shui and Me

I often find a spiritual component to music... and art... and the landscapes of life.  Yesterday, my girlfriend and I took an excursion to Chateau Montelena.  Chateau Montelena is a Napa Valley winery that produced a wine that won a 1976 wine tasting competition that was held in France.  It was the winning of this competition that elevated the status of California wines.  The owner of the Chateau, Jim Barrett, died last month from as his son put it "a life well lived."  We went there not so much for the wine but to learn more about the man and to enjoy the scenery around the Chateau.  I knew that Jim Barrett had been a successful corporate lawyer before purchasing the Chateau and I knew that the Chateau had a marvelous Chinese theme serenity garden and lake, so I wanted to find out if there was a connection between this man who died of a "life well lived" and the feng shui of his award winning winery.

What I found is that a 'life well lived" involved pursuing one's passion.  For Jim Barrett, making wine became a passion in his life and when that passion was infused into the wine, it became a masterpiece.  As for the Jade Lake, I learned today that the owners of the Chateau before Jim Barrett was a Chinese couple who somehow managed to parlay their radio repair business into enough money to purchase the Chateau.  Both stories are amazing.

As for our discussion, well, this is one of my 1000 Saturdays and at least on this day, I think I lived it well.

Our true home is in the present moment.

To live in the present moment is a miracle.

The miracle is not to walk on water.

The miracle is to walk on the green Earth in the present moment,

to appreciate the peace and beauty that are available now.

Peace is all around us --

in the world and in nature --

and within us --

in our bodies and our spirits.

Once we learn to touch this peace, 

we will be healed and transformed.

It is not a matter of faith.

It is a matter of practice.

                             Thich Nhat Hanh

Will write more tomorrow.  Have a great Saturday evening. 

Margaret Thatcher, Lao Tzu, and Me

Margaret Thatcher died last week.  In the movie, Iron Lady, she is quoted as saying that her father instilled in her some values with the following:

“Watch your thoughts, for they become words.
Watch your words, for they become actions.
Watch your actions, for they become habits.
Watch your habits, for they become character.
Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.”

I wonder if she knew that those words were actually first said by the Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu.  And, in light of what transpired in the last twenty years of her life, I wonder if she was introspective enough to see how true those words were.   

These days, I prefer a modified version of Lao Tzu's passage.  The Everett Jenkins version reads:

"Keep your thoughts positive because positive thoughts lead to positive words.  Positive words lead to positive actions.  Positive actions lead to positive habits.  Positive habits lead to a positive character.  And a positive character leads to a positive destiny."

Stay positive my friends and have a good Sunday.

The Parable of the Eagle

“The Parable of the Eagle” 

James Aggrey 

Once upon a time, while walking through the forest, a certain man found a young eagle. 

He took it home and put it in his barnyard where it soon learned to eat chicken feed and to behave 

as chickens behave. 

One day, a naturalist who was passing by inquired of the owner why it was that an eagle, 

the king of all birds, should be confined to live in the barnyard with the chickens. 

“Since I have given it chicken feed and trained it to be a chicken, it has never learned to 

fly.” replied the owner. “It behaves as chickens behave, so it is no longer an eagle.” 

“Still,” insisted the naturalist, “it has the heart of an eagle and can surely be taught to fly.” 

After talking it over, the two men agreed to find out whether this was possible. Gently, the 

naturalist took the eagle in his arms and said, “You belong to the sky and not to the earth. Stretch 

forth your wings and fly.” 

The eagle, however, was confused; he did not know who he was, and seeing the chickens 

eating their feed, he jumped down to be with them again. 

Undismayed, the naturalist took the eagle, on the following day, up on the roof of the 

house and urged him again, “You are an eagle. Stretch forth your wings and fly.” But the eagle 

was afraid of his unknown self and world and jumped down once more for the chicken feed. 

On the third day, the naturalist rose early and took the eagle out of the barnyard to a high 

mountain. There, he held the king of birds high above him and encouraged him again, saying, 

“You are an eagle. You belong to the sky as well as the earth. Stretch forth your wings now, and 

fly.” 

The eagle looked around, back toward the barnyard and up to the sky. Still he did not fly. 

Then the naturalist lifted him straight toward the sun and it happened that the eagle began to 

tremble and slowly he stretched his wings. At last, with a triumphant cry, he soared away into the 

heavens. 

It may be that the eagle still remembers the chickens with nostalgia; it may even be that he 

occasionally revisits the barnyard. But as far as anyone knows, he has never returned to lead the 

life of a chicken. He was an eagle even though he had been kept and tamed as a chicken, 

Just like the eagle, people who have learned to think of themselves as something 

they are not, can re-decide in favor of their real potential. Even if we have been raised to be something less than we are, we can still return to our true nature. We can still fly.

Skylar Diggins and the Coarsening of the Web

Once upon a time, back in the days when I was in high school, one would venture into a boys restroom and invariably find crude statements written on the restroom walls. Occasionally, those crude statements would be about a girl or two that happened to be at the school. For the most part, those crude statements remained in the restroom waiting the day when an enterprising janitor would come along and scrub them away.

However, today we live in the age of the internet, and the crude statements that once were confined to the boys restroom appear to be quite common on the medium of today. Most of the time, we simply ignore the crud that exists. But I wonder if the pervasiveness of this medium and the crud that exists on it does not ultimately affect us all.

Case in point is the recent controversy over Skylar Diggins. For those of you who do not follow women's collegiate basketball, Skylar Diggins is the premier player on the highly ranked Notre Dame Women's Basketball team. She also happens to be a very attractive young lady. Somewhere, some individual decided to post some nude photos on the internet that many attributed to be of Ms. Diggins. To her credit, she has categorically refuted that the photos are of her. But still, as the father of three young women, there is something about this sordid affair that enrages me.

Perhaps I am once again showing my age, but how can one have high hopes for this medium when it is so easily used for such antics as this? Is this a better world that we are making, or simply a world that is more profane?

Invictus and The Man in the Arena

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

While incarcerated on Robben Island prison, Nelson Mandela recited the poem to other prisoners and was empowered by its message of self-mastery. In the movie Invictus, Mandela gives the captain of the national South African rugby team the poem to inspire him to lead his team to a Rugby World Cup win, telling him how it inspired him in prison. In reality, as opposed to the movie, Mandela actually gave the captain, Francois Pineaar, a copy of "The Man in the Arena" passage from President of the United States Theodore Roosevelt's speech Citizenship in a Republic instead.

THE MAN IN THE ARENA Excerpt from the speech "Citizenship In A Republic"
delivered at the Sorbonne, in Paris, France on 23 April, 1910

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

A Philosophy for 2013

During this Black History Month of 2013, there have been many quotes offered that have been attributed to W. E. B. DuBois. I now offer not just a quote but a lengthy statement that once upon a time adorned the walls of the homes of African Americans throughout the land. It is especially fitting that we remember these words since DuBois Philosophy for 1913 could still apply today. The following is taken from a speech I gave in 2009 on the centennial anniversary of the founding of the NAACP.  I now offer it as a centennial restatement for 2013.   

Peace,

Everett Jenkins

One of the brightest lights of the NAACP was W. E. B. DuBois. In 1913, DuBois wrote an editorial entitled “A Philosophy for 1913” and I think it bears remembering his words now. DuBois said:

I am by birth and law a free black American citizen.

As such I have both rights and duties.

If I neglect my duties my rights are always in danger. If I do not maintain my rights I cannot perform my duties.

I will listen, therefore, neither to the fool who would make me neglect the things I ought to do, nor to the rascal who advises me to forget the opportunities which I and my children ought to have, and must have, and will have.

Boldly and without flinching, I will face the hard fact that in this, my fatherland, I must expect insult and discrimination from persons who call themselves philanthropists and Christians and gentlemen. I do not wish to meet this despicable attitude by blows; sometimes I cannot even protest by words; but may God forget me and mine if in time or eternity I ever weakly admit to myself or the world that wrong is not wrong, that insult is not insult, or that color discrimination is anything but an inhuman and damnable shame.

Believing this with my utmost soul, I shall fight race prejudice continually.If possible, I shall fight it openly and decidedly by word and deed.When that is not possible I will give of my money to help others to do the deed and say the word which I cannot.This contribution to the greatest of causes shall be my most sacred obligation.

Whenever I meet personal discrimination on account of my race and color I shall protest.If the discrimination is old and deep seated, and sanctioned by law, I shall deem it my duty to make my grievance known, to bring it before the organs of public opinion and to the attention of men of influence, and to urge relief in courts and legislatures.

I will not, because of inertia or timidity or even sensitiveness, allow new discriminations to become usual and habitual.To this end I will make it my duty without ostentation, but with firmness to assert my right to vote, to frequent places of public entertainment and to appear as a man among men.I will religiously do this from time to time, even when personally I prefer the refuge of friends and family.

While thus fighting for Right and Justice, I will keep my soul clean and serene.I will not permit cruel and persistent persecutions to deprive me of the luxury of friends, the enjoyment of laughter, the beauty of sunsets, or the inspiration of a well-written word.Without bitterness (but also without lies), without useless recrimination (but also without cowardly acquiescence), without unnecessary heartache (but with not self-deception), I will walk my way, with uplifted head and level eyes, respecting myself too much to endure without protest studied disrespect from others, and steadily refusing to assent to the silly exaltations of a mere tint of skin or curl of color.

In fine, I will be a man and know myself to be one, even among those who secretly and openly deny my manhood, and I shall persistently and unwaveringly seek by every possible method to compel all men to treat me as I treat them.

"Red Tails", George Lucas, Thaddeus Stevens and the Power of Love

Last Friday, while watching Kim and Kourtney Take Miami, I commandeered the remote to occasionally view the NAACP Image Awards.  

I happened to see the climactic moment when the Best Picture was announced and surprise, surprise, the winner was "Red Tails". 

As I watched the award being given out, I found it rather odd to see the rather short and stout George Lucas being surrounded by four taller African American gentlemen who were obviously associated with the film.

Lucas' appearance at the NAACP Image Awards along with his passionate advocacy for making "Red Tails" and his recent donation of $4 Billion for educational endeavors caused me to look him up to see what may be behind Lucas' new take on life.

  

One of the first articles that came up was this:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/01/03/george-lucas-mellody-hobson-engaged_n_2404471.html

Having seen the movie "Lincoln" and read about the role the private life of Thaddeus Stevens may have had on his advocacy for the Thirteenth Amendment, I could only begin to wonder if maybe George Lucas' passion for "Red Tails" stemmed from the recent developments in his private life as well.

If so, then it behooves us all to never underestimate the Power of Love.