Butterfly's Chrysalis

Musings of a 30-something, Christian, BLACK single mother on a journey to emerge from her "chrysalis" and experience the unparalleled joy of consummate metamorphosis.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

The Sins of Our Fathers

History affects not just those who are there to participate in its making, but also those who reap the benefits (or endure the consequences) of decisions made by their forefathers. Well, apparently some Georgia lawmakers disagree with this school of thought. The Senate Rules committee voted unanimously in favor of establishing a Confederate heritage month, which speaks volumes to their belief that it is right to honor the actions of their ancestors through this legislation; but, on a sad note, the Georgia legislature opposed a measure introduced by Black lawmakers that would put forth an official apology for the state’s role in slavery and Jim Crow Era laws. It seems some Georgians would rather celebrate their good ol’ Confederate pride than apologize and atone for its contribution to and support of the oppressive, violent, dehumanizing institution of slavery.

How pious of Georgia to wave the confederate flag, knowing all it stands for, and plan to dedicate an entire month to celebrating and lauding this racist history when, in fact, Georgia has so much about which to be ashamed. By the era of the American Revolution, African slaves constituted nearly half of Georgia’s colonial population. And, it was Georgia that persuaded Thomas Jefferson to tone down his critique of slavery in and early draft of the famed liberation document, the Declaration of Independence. By the 1860s, Georgia had more slaves and slaveholders than any state in the Lower South and was second only to Virginia in the South as a whole.

It is understandable why Georgia does not want to endorse both measures simultaneously—to do so would be hypocritical considering that the reason Georgia seceded from the Union and joined the Confederate States of America was its leaders vehemently opposed ending slavery. Like their Confederate cohorts, they feared ending slavery would eliminate a lucrative business, and they believed keeping slavery alive and well was a right of the South.

But, Georgia lawmakers are making the wrong choice. Instead of taking a stand and showing their penitence for taking part in the abominable acts of cruelty that destroyed families and left physical and emotional wounds that are still healing today, Georgia is opting to hail to the colors of a flag that represents, not freedom or justice, but slavery, crimes against humanity, and a belief in racial superiority.

Sunday, March 11, 2007

A New Twist on the One-Drop Rule

In the early 1900s, many southern states passed laws to separate, along racial lines, those who had even the most miniscule percentage of Black (non-White) blood running in their veins. These laws became known as “one-drop” rules because, as the old adage goes, one drop of Black blood and you were relegated to the fringe of society, a member of the oppressed race.
So, for light-skinned Black slaves who were the product of the union of a White slave owner and a Black slave, regardless of how White their skin was if they had only one-sixteenth of Black blood, they were deemed Black and treated accordingly.

Native Americans were similarly oppressed, because they were also viewed as people of color. But, some Native Americans identified with White slave owners and emulated their behavior; these Native Americans purchased and owned slaves and produced children who were of mixed heritage—Native American and Black.

For more than a century, freed slaves whose ancestors were owned by Native Americans or were part of the Native American lineage were recognized as part of the tribal membership of their respective Indian tribe (Cherokee, Choctaw, Chicksaw, etc.) Membership in the Cherokee tribe was open to those who could prove they are descendants of those listed on census rolls issued by the Dawes Commission. The commission put forth two lists—one with the names of blood Cherokees and one with names of freedmen, which included Blacks who did and did not have Indian blood.

In March 2006, the Cherokee Nation Supreme Court affirmed the tribal citizenship of freedmen descendants, based on a treaty signed in 1866. Since that favorable decision, tribal citizenship of freedmen descendants increased by more than 2,000 persons.

Ignoring the court’s decision, the leaders of the Cherokee Nation voted recently to change the tribe’s constitution, revoking the citizenship of freedmen descendants and only recognizing those who are full-blooded Cherokee Indians. Thus, the old adage has a new twist: if you have too many drops of Black blood and not enough Cherokee blood—regardless of whether your family was owned by Cherokees, you speak the language, or your family has been a member of the Cherokee Nation for decades—you are relegated to the outside of the circle.

Once again, the rules have changed … and to the detriment of Black people. If a freedman does is not full-blooded Cherokee or a descendant of full-blooded Cherokee, he will be dropped from the federal commission listing of the Cherokee tribe members. The move appears to be an attempt by the Cherokee Nation to disconnect from its racist history of slave ownership and now denounce the ancestors of the very slaves it once eagerly acquired.

The Black faction of the Cherokee nation is being cast out now that it no longer benefits the tribe financially, as during the days of slavery when it provided an unlimited source of cheap labor. In earlier years, the Cherokee tribe struggled financially—now it has amassed revenue in the form of gambling money from casinos and federal funding totaling more than $22 billion, money that it does not want to share with the descendants of Black slaves.

A report in The Washington Post detailed the plight of J.D. Baldridge, who has legal proof showing that he is a descendant of a full-blood Cherokee. But, it is the Black ancestry in the lineage of Baldridge—who has fond childhood memories of times spent with in the Cherokee community among Native-American relatives and neighbors—that may result in his expulsion from the Cherokee tribe.

The actions of the Cherokee nation to expel Blacks from among their ranks mimics the discriminatory spirit of Jim Crow-era laws based on the percentage of "black blood" one had. It is obvious that the Cherokee leaders’ primary interest its safeguarding tribal resources, but the losers in this are thousands of Black men and women whose only sin is in their skin ( borrowing from the lyrics of a Louis Armstrong song).

Ironically, leaders of Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs)—whose federal funding comes from the same pool of limited Title V resources—are rallying in support of tribal colleges that are seriously underfunded and facing a 20 percent cut under President Bush’s 2008 education budget. This move denotes a level of solidarity between Black and Native Americans, just as the Cherokee Nation is voting simultaneously to expel slaves’ descendants from their rolls.

The most disturbing aspect of the Cherokee Nation struggle is that it is occurring between and among people of color. Instead of division and separation, there should be solidarity, unity, and common vision for these two groups who share a history marred by oppression, enslavement, and discrimination.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Remembering Bloody Sunday

Forty-two years ago today, 600 Black Americans embarked on a 54-mile march to the state capitol, Montgomery, Ala., to protest voting rights discrimination. The march also commemorated the death of Jimmie Lee Jackson, who was shot three weeks earlier by a state trooper while trying to protect his mother at a civil rights demonstration. The peaceful, yet determined group of protestors were stopped short as they crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Ala., by armed state police and sheriff’s deputies, who wielded billy clubs as assault weapons, threw tears gas into the crowd, and used cattle prods to attack the marchers relentlessly, despite the presence of the media onlookers who witnessed the unprovoked display of violence. Needless to say, hundreds of brave, Black citizens did not make it to their intended destination on that fateful day. Dubbed “Bloody Sunday” because of the blood shed by innocent people—who were trampled by horses and beaten with night sticks—refusing to be shut out the voting process any longer, the aftermath left 17 people hospitalized and more than 100 injured.

The march on Bloody Sunday was in opposition to discriminatory laws, intimidation and fear tactics, violence, and prejudicial ordinances used in the South to circumvent the mandates of the 15th Constitutional Amendment, which was adopted to ensure that a person’s race, color, or prior history as a slave would not be used to bar that person from voting. The problem of keeping Blacks from the polls was particularly pervasive in Selma, a city where African Americans comprised more than half the population but only two percent of registered voters.
But the indescribable pain and suffering endured by the demonstrators in Selma was not in vain; recognizing the importance of the march to make gains for Black people, Martin Luther King, Jr., galvanized support from civil rights supporters and quickly organized a second march, successfully leading more than 25,000 marchers along the same 54-mile stretch, only two weeks later. The demonstrations elevated the need for voting rights legislation for Blacks in the South to the top of the political agenda; five months after the Bloody Sunday tragedy, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act into law. Called the single most effective piece of civil rights legislation ever passed by Congress, the Voting Rights Act is the precursor of the modern Voting Rights Movement.

What transpired in Selma more than four decades ago left behind a bloodstained reminder of the struggle to secure the rights for all Americans to vote, regardless of race, education, or wealth. The protest on Pettus Bridge not only led to key voting rights legislation, but also paved the way for later reforms and eliminated barriers for Black people to make gains in politics, including Black presidential candidate Barack Obama, who is vying for the nation’s highest political office.
Bloody Sunday and other demonstrations during the Civil Rights Era produced fundamental reforms, but the goal of equality in civil or voting rights still has not been fully realized. As recently as 2006, the struggle continued with efforts to renew key provisions of the Voting Rights Act that were set to expire. These provisions were signed into law again in the name of three freedom fighting heroines and signify the renewed national commitment to a just democracy.

Yet, as the 2008 president election approaches in the wake of two consecutive, tainted presidential elections in 2004 and 2000, it’s clear that the cornerstone of our democracy—the electoral process—is in need of urgent repair. There is still much work to be done—several states have yet to eliminate permanent bans on voting rights for people with felony convictions and identification requirements in some states are disproportionately disenfranchising communities of color. But as we pause to remember what the right to vote meant for the African Americans who marched across the bridge on March 7, 1965, we are reminded that, just as King did forty years ago, we must pick up the baton and carry on the struggle for just democracy in America.