Many blessings to all,and especially to those observing Lent, Great Lent, Ayyám-i-Há,and/or Rare Disease Dayduring this “Season for Non-violence” and all other seasons!
This is the“missing” post forTuesday, February28th. Some religious information was posted in 2021 and will be included in the Wednesday post. You can request an audio recordingof this practice via a commentbelow or (for a slightly faster reply)you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
“Through the years I’ve written and taught extensively about ‘liminal time,’ that pregnant pause between what is no longer and what is not yet. Although liminal time is a known stage in all rites of passage, most people have never heard of it. Whether we’re talking about a pandemic, a war, a refugee crisis, or even a man or womanhood ritual, a graduation, or a new job far away from family and friends, the stages (though not the intensity) of a rite of passage are the same.”
– quoted from “Running the Gauntlet of the Unknown” by Joan Borysenko, PhD (posted at joanborysenko.com, April 1, 2020)
Technically speaking, every day is a “liminal day” – a transitional or threshold day, a doorway in between moments; like the pauses in between the inhale and the exhale. However, Dr. Joan Borysenko talks about “liminal time” in a very specific context, one that fits into the paradigm of The Hero’s Journey. It is a time of ritual; the threshold between the known and the unknown; and – maybe most importantly – it is a moment time-stamped by grief, sandwiched between separation and return. All of this is why I consider the days of this week, and many of the days in the coming weeks, to be “liminal days.”
But this is not just a Myra-thing. These days are specifically designated by various traditions as in-between times. Not “regular” or “ordinary” days, but days when there is a heightened awareness of what’s to come and the need to be ready for what’s to come. On the Baháʼí Faith calendar, February 26th – March 1st are literally in-between days: they are intercalary days between the penultimate month of the year and the final month (which is the month of the 19-Day Fast).
For Those Who Are Not Familiar: The Baháʼí Faith is a monotheistic faith that believes in the oneness of God and religion, as well as the oneness and nobility of humanity. The community believes that, historically, there has been a “progressive revelation of religious truth” which has been shared with the world through the voices of the prophets or Divine Messengers, known as “Manifestations of God” (which include “Braham, Krishna, Zoroaster, Moses, Buddha, Jesus Christ, Muhammad, and, in more recent times, the Báb and Bahá’u’lláh”). People within the faith are taught to honor the value of different religious and philosophical traditions as well as the value of education, especially in science (which is viewed by some faiths as being contrary to religion). The Baháʼí calendar consists of 19 months, each with 19 days, and each month (and day) is named after an attribute of God. To maintain the integrity of the calendar, there are 4 – 5 intercalary days just before the final month.
While the customs and beliefs are different within these different traditions, people all over the world are actually preparing for some of the holiest times of their year: Christians observe Lent and Great Lent to get ready for Easter; the Baháʼí community observes the 19-Day Fast as they prepare for a new year – and these Springtime rituals contain very similar elements to each other and to Passover and Yom Kippur (in the Jewish tradition) and to the holy month of Ramaḍān (in the Muslim tradition). All of these rituals contain elements of the Yoga Philosophy’s niyamās (internal “observations”). They also fall under the rubric that Patanjali called kriyā yoga (“union in action”), which is a combination of the final three: tapas (“heat, discipline, austerity” and the practices that cultivate them), svādhyāya (“self-study”), and īśvarapraņidhāna (“trustful surrender to higher reality”). They involve fasting, prayers, reflection, self-study undertaken within a sacred context, and letting something go.
That last part is where the grief kicks in – because, whether you give something up for the Lenten season or you change your daily routine to accommodate a holy observation, the mind-body will experience some level of loss with some manifestation of grief. It will not be the same intensity of loss we experience when we lose a job or when we lose a loved one. Neither will it be the same level of grief.
However, no matter the intensity of the loss and/or grief, we have to figure out a way to move forward, into a new season of life – and while each person has an individual experience, they have it in community.
“That’s the thing about a rare disease. You fight for a diagnosis for years ― on average, according to Global Genes, it takes seeing 7.3 physicians and trying for 4.8 years before getting an accurate rare disease diagnosis ― and then, even once you know, you must continue being a detective as you try to piece together the clues as to how the illness might progress. You become an expert in a disease you wish you’d never heard of.
As a parent, you also quickly morph into a nurse, therapist, chief operating officer, educational advocate, cheerleader and warrior. You feel alone, because by definition, your child’s diagnosis is exceptional. And yet, 1 in 10 Americans and 300 million people globally are living with a rare disease.
You find community not just in other people who share the specific diagnosis your family is facing, but in those struggling with any rare diagnosis. It doesn’t matter what the exact symptoms or disease trajectory are. What matters is the shared understanding that your dreams as a parent have forever shifted.”
– quoted from the (February 28, 2022*) Huffington Post article entitled “My Daughter’s Rare Disease Was A Mystery For Years. Here’s How We Finally Got A Diagnosis.” by Jessica Fein
In addition to being (what I would consider) a “liminal day,” February 28th can also be a “rare” day. Typically, when we think of a “rare” day on the Gregorian and Julian calendars, we think of February 29th, Leap Day, which is rare because it only happens every four years.** Leap day is the perfect day for Rare Disease Day, which is observed on February 28th during non-leap years like 2023. Observations on this alternate date, coincide with the anniversary of the United States House of Representatives passing the Orphan Drug Act of 1983 on February 28, 1982. The act went into effect on January 4, 1983, and it facilitated the development of “orphan drugs” (i.e., drugs for rare diseases and disorders). Japan and the European Union enacted similar acts in 1993 and 2000, respectively. Prior to the act being passed in the U. S., less than 40 drugs had been approved as treatments for rare diseases and disorders (in the whole history of the United States). In the three decades after the act went into affect, almost ten times as many drugs had been approved.
Why the difference? Why did it take an act of Congress?
Unfortunately for those who face life-threatening and life-changing diseases, research is primarily driven by pharmaceutical companies, which are mostly driven by profits – and there’s just not a lot of profit in rare diseases.
“That referral led us to the geneticist, who ended up delivering the information that changed our lives.
‘Dalia tested positive for a genetic mutation that’s associated with myoclonic epilepsy with ragged red fibers, or MERRF syndrome ― an extremely rare form of mitochondrial disease,’ the doctor said.”
– quoted from the (February 28, 2022*) Huffington Post article entitled “My Daughter’s Rare Disease Was A Mystery For Years. Here’s How We Finally Got A Diagnosis.” by Jessica Fein
Approximately 300 million people are living with a rare disease. That doesn’t sound very rare when you add in their family, friends, and caregivers. But, here’s the thing: those 300 million people are not living with the same disease. They are not even living with the same two or three diseases. In the medical community, a “rare disease” is typically defined as a disease that affects fewer than 1 in 2,000 people. That means it can affect one or two people, or several hundred around the world. In the United States, Huntington’s disease; myoclonus; Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) – also known as motor neuron disease (MND); Tourette syndrome; muscular dystrophy; Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS); Prader-Willi syndrome; and Usher syndrome are all considered rare diseases or rare disorders. Sickle cell anemia is also considered a rare disease; even though it affects approximately 100,000 people in the United States. Autosomal systemic lupus erythematosus, which is characterized by the presence of (the more common) systemic lupus erythematosus symptoms in two or more members of a single family, is also considered a rare disease.
Approximately 72 – 80% of rare diseases are known to be genetic. About 70% begin in childhood. Tragically, thirty percent of children diagnosis with a rare disease will not reach age 5. While some people have diseases that are degenerative, some people “outgrow” their disease. Another challenge, for people suffering from rare diseases and disorders, is that sometimes people can be suffering with “invisible” ailments – meaning that others perceive them as healthy. All of these differences in symptoms and situations makes it really hard to receive diagnosis and treatment – especially since healthcare practitioners (particularly here in the West) are taught to “lookfor horses, notzebras.” Unfortunately, rare diseases are really colorful zebras. They require patients and their family and friends to take on all the roles normally distributed between professionals.
Recently, another couple of layers have been added to the already complicated story of rare diseases. For a variety of really disturbing reasons – that I want to believe come from a lack of awareness and knowledge – people have started co-opting orphan drugs and using them for non-life threatening issues. In some cases, they are being used for purely cosmetic purposes without any regard for the people whose lives actually depend on the medication. (NOTE: This is also happening with treatments for “common diseases,” with equally devastating effects; however, those common diseases get more publicity, because they make up a larger share of the market.) On the flip side, COVID seems to have created a situation where some rare diseases are becoming more common – which means, as twisted as sounds, that some people feeling more hopefully, because more research and development is being done with regard to their ailment.
Again, it all comes down to awareness, education, perspective, compassion, and empathy. Which is the whole point of Rare Disease Day.
Established in 2008, by the European Organization for Rare Diseases, Rare Disease Day is a day dedicated to “raising awareness and generating change for the 300 million people worldwide living with a rare disease, their families and [caregivers].” The 2023 theme is “ShareYourColours” – which is an invitation to share your story. Whether you have a rare disease or whether you love and/or care for someone with a rare disease, sharing your story can be a way to raise awareness, stop the ignorance, and end stigma.
If you are not dealing with a rare disease, be open to hearing other people’s stories. As rare as they are, I have known someone dealing with almost all of the rare diseases and disorders that I used as examples (above). Or, I should say, I’ve known that I knew them, because they shared their stories. Listening, as Bruce Kramer pointed out, opens us “… a little bit more.”
“To be open is to embrace your own great big messy humanity, to cry in sadness but not despair, to recognize presence in the emptiness of the bitter moment of truth, to be afraid but not fearful. Dis ease presents the choice of being open or closed, and opening to her lessons, her gifts, her challenges, is not easy. But dis ease clarifies vision, bringing sight to the blindness of what you thought you knew about living, light to the darkness of cynicism that life’s grief piled upon itself can foster. I know ALS is a horror, yet when fully embraced, it has taught me, it has revealed to me pure unsullied, uncontaminated, unbelievable love.
In my heart of hearts, I know that love never dies.”
– quoted from “25. Faith, Part IV: What’s Love Got To Do with It?” in We Know How This Ends: Living while Dying by Bruce H. Kramer with Cathy Wurzer
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “06142020 World Blood Donor Day”]
NOTE: Not all rare diseases are blood-based, but the playlist contains a blood-borne subliminal message.
*NOTE: A follow-up article by Jessica Fein was also published by Huffington Post today, February 28, 2023.
**NOTE:According to the Julian calendar, Leap Year is every four years.On the Gregorian calendar, which is used by most people who will come across this post, it’s not that simple.
“A year is a leap year if it is divisible by 4 and is not a century year (multiple of 100) or if it is divisible by 400. For example, 1900 is not a leap year; 2000 is.”
– quoted from “2 – The Gregorian Calendar, 2.1: Structure” in Calendrical Calculations by Nachum Dershowitz, Edward Reingold
Many blessings to those observing and/or preparing for Lent. Peace and ease to all during this “Season for Non-violence” and all other seasons!
This is a special post for February 12th.The “Season for Non-violence” theme for February 12th is “humility” – and this post is essentially two servings of “humble pie.” WARNING: Although not explicit, this post does contain a summary of a disturbing part of U. S. history.
“In 1982, a woman of thirty, doing just fine in Washington, D.C., let me know how things are in her precincts. ‘I can’t relate to World War Two. It’s in schoolbook texts, that’s all. Battles that were won, battles that were lost. Or costume dramas you see on TV. It’s just a story in the past. It’s so distant, so abstract. I don’t get myself up in a bunch about it.’
It appears that the disremembrance of World War Two is as disturbingly profound as the forgettery of the Great Depression: World War Two, an event that changed the psyche as well as the face of the United States and of the World”
– quoted from the oral recollections of Captain Lowell Steward, 100th Fighter Squadron, 332nd Fighter Group in “Flying High: Lowell Steward” in BOOK THREE of “The Good War” – An Oral History of World War II by Studs Terkel
Today I offer an apology (with an explanation) and an explanation (that is also an apology of sorts). First, I apologize to any e-mail subscribers who would not have seen that I updated the banner and title on the last Black History post to indicate that that post covered February 11th and 12th. After doing a lot more research than I initially intended, I realized that it really was more than one post, covering two days. Also, I was not super excited about where I would have gone if I posted a separate February 12th note unrelated to the events I had already covered. Ergo, I updated the banner and the title and I was just going to leave it at that.
Then, however, I looked back at my notes and realized I needed a footnote – which is where the explanation that is also an apology comes in.
When I decided to post these “Black History notes,” I made the decision to focus on accomplishments made by African Americans (rather than on things done to African Americans) and on people who thrived (not just merely survived). So, focusing on what some people would call “Black Excellence.” If you read even one of these notes, I think you’ll notice what I said at the beginning of the month: every demographic in America is making history every day. I think you’ll also notice that every individual aspiration that becomes inspiration involves a struggle to survive – sometimes the struggle is about the dream surviving; sometimes the struggle is about the dreamer of surviving. Ultimately, however, I wanted these notes to be about the history-making inspirations related to each day.
All that said, I’m adding this footnote. I’m adding this footnote, because I want to mention something tangentially related to yesterday’s posts. It’s not a footnote because it lacks importance – and I apologize, because I know it may come across that way. It’s a footnote simply because it doesn’t fit the paradigm I established for myself (and because I’m not going to go into too many details).
“Institutions, like individuals, are properly judged by their ideals, their methods, and their achievements in the production of men and women who are to do the world’s work.”
– quoted from “Tuskegee And Its People: General Introduction” by Booker T. Washington, as printed in Tuskegee & Its People: Their Ideals and Achievements by Emmett Jay Scott, edited by Booker T. Washington
Established on July 4, 1881, as the Tuskegee Normal School for Colored Teachers, Tuskegee University has had several names – including the Tuskegee Institute. It is one of the many institutions of higher learning established in the United States by virtue of the Morrill Acts, the first of which was signed by President Abraham Lincoln on July 2, 1862, and it is one of the Historically Black Universities and Colleges (HBCUs) established before the Civil Rights Act of 1964. The campus (in Tuskegee, Alabama) was designed by Robert Robinson Taylor, the first African American to graduate from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT, class of 1892), and David Williston, the first professionally trained African American landscape architect, who earned an undergraduate degree from Howard University (another HBCU) before becoming the first African American to earn a degree in agriculture from Cornell University (1898).
In addition to the campus’ designers, notable members of Tuskegee’s faculty and staff have included Booker T. Washington, George Washington Carver, Josephine Turpin Washington, and Nathaniel Oglesby Calloway (PhD). Notable alumni* include Amelia Boynton Robinson, Alice Marie Coachman, The Commodores (including Lionel Richie),Milton C. Davis, Ralph Ellison, Lonnie Johnson (PhD), Betty Shabazz (Ed.D.), Danielle Spencer, and Keenen Ivory Wayans – as well as the microbiologists George C. Royal (PhD), Gladys W. Royal (PhD), and Jessica A. Scoffield (PhD). There is a much much longer list of notable faculty, staff, and alumni; however, even if you’ve only heard of half of them, there’s a good chance the reason you’ve heard of Tuskegee Institute has nothing to do with the majority of them. Many people – even here in the United States – have heard about the university for two reasons: the “experiments.”
I put “experiments” in quotes, because people don’t always think about both situations as experiments or studies. However, officially (according to the government and some of the people involved), there were two experiments conducted at Tuskegee between 1932 and 1972: a medical one conducted by the U.S. Public Health Service (beginning in 1932) and a military one conducted by the U. S. Army Air Corps (beginning in 1941). The medical study was the “The Study of Untreated Syphilis in the Negro Male in Macon County, Alabama” – which would later be known simply as the “Tuskegee Syphilis Study” – and it’s involuntary “participants” are still nameless to most people in the general population. The military study was (mostly) voluntary and officially called the “Tuskegee Experiment” (now renamed the “Tuskegee Experience”). While you may not the names of the individual men involved, you’ve probably heard of them: they are known as the Tuskegee Airmen.
“There should be no limit placed upon the development of any individual because of color, and let it be understood that no one kind of training can safely be prescribed for an entire race. Care should be taken that racial education be not one-sided for lack of adaptation to personal fitness, nor unwieldy through sheer top-heaviness. Education, to fulfil its mission for any people anywhere, should be symmetrical and sensible.”
– quoted from “Tuskegee And Its People: General Introduction” by Booker T. Washington, as printed in Tuskegee & Its People: Their Ideals and Achievements by Emmett Jay Scott, edited by Booker T. Washington
Julius Rosenwald and Booker T. Washington were two men from very different backgrounds who had similar ideas about what their country needed to move forward. In the early 1900’s, their collaboration led to the construction of the Tuskegee campus and several other schools in Alabama. When educators in other states heard about the collaboration, they wanted in on the action – and so it began. The initial agreement (up until about 1920) was that Mr. Rosenwald would fund the construction of the “Rosenwald Schools” and Tuskegee faculty, staff, and students would design, build, and train. When Booker T. Washington died (in 1915), the part-owner and president of Sears, Roebuck and Company continued his philanthropic endeavor. He and his family established the Rosenwald Fund (also known as the Rosenwald Foundation, the Julius Rosenwald Fund, and the Julius Rosenwald Foundation) for “the well-being of mankind.”
The Rosenwald Fund was a “sunset” fund, meaning that rather than establishing equity and funding projects with the interest, it had an end date. From it’s establishment in 1917, until 1948, it donated over $70 million to public schools, colleges and universities, museums, Jewish charities, and African American institutions. The fund also issued open-ended fellowships to minority artists, writers, scientists, journalists, and civic leaders. Unlike the individuals who received fellowships, communities, organizations, and states that received grants were expected to match some (or all) of the funds and also had to employ people within the communities being served. So, each project was an investment and a collaboration.
On March 29, 1941, a trustee of the Rosenwald Fund went to Tuskegee, Alabama; had her picture taken as she sat in a Piper J-3 Cub, between the “Father of Black Aviation,” chief civilian instructor C. Alfred “Chief” Anderson, and another African American (civilian) pilot; and then went for a ride that lasted at least 60 minutes. You might have heard of this trustee: her name wasEleanor Roosevelt. Never one to let her power and privilege go to waste, the First Lady of the United States used her position as a trustee to arrange a loan of $175,000 to help finance the building of Moton Field – which was named after Tuskegee’s second principal (Robert Russa Moton); designed by David Williston (see above); and would become the home of the 99th Pursuit Squadron Training School. She would also maintain correspondence with some of the pilots for years.
But, I’m getting ahead of myself – because all of this happened several years after civilian pilots were being trained at Tuskegee Institute and several months after the military experiment began. And, yes, I’m starting with the Airmen; because their story is a little easier to tell (and a little easier to swallow).
“The United States entered the Great War on April 6, 1917, and later that year, Bullard, with other Americans of the Lafayette Flying Corps, applied for a transfer to the U. S. Army Air Corps, understanding that all that was required for a pilot to receive a commission as an officer was an application and a physical examination.
The American doctors who conducted Ballard’s physical in Paris in October 1917 questioned him about his flight training before his health. The physical showed that he had flat feet. ‘I explained that… I did not fly with my feet.’ They told him he had large tonsils. ‘To this I replied that I was… not an opera singer.’ Finally he was told that he had passed the examination.
The other American flyers were transferred to the American Army Air Corps, one after the another, while Bullard received no word. At last he realized that all the other flyers were white.”
“The discrimination hurt Bullard deeply, but he derived some comfort from the knowledge that he was able to fight on the same front and in the same cause as his fellow American citizens. ‘And so in a roundabout way, I was managing to do my duty and to serve my country,’ Bullard later wrote.”
– quoted from the profile “Eugene Jacques Bullard” in Distinguished African Americans in Aviation and Space Science by Betty Kaplan Gubert, Miriam Sawyer, and Caroline M. Fannin
In some ways, we could say that the story of the military study at Tuskegee predates the story of the medical study; because the story of the Tuskegee Airmen is rooted in the story of men like Eugene James Bullard. When the “Black Swallow” couldn’t fly for the United States during World War I – even after being a decorated combat pilot in France – and other Black men were not even given a fighting chance to apply, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and civil rights activists like A. Philip Randolph (one of the organizers of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters) started advocating get more more “Black wings” in the air. They were joined by Judge William H. Hastie, who would go on to become the first (openly and obviously) African American to serve as Governor of the United States Virgin Islands, but who spent part of World War II working as as a civilian aide to Henry Stimson, the United States Secretary of War.
Due to continuous pressure, the United States Congress passed Appropriations Bill Public Law 18 (on April 3, 1939), which specifically designated funds for training African American pilots. The War Department, backed by Congress, funneled the funds into the pre-existing Civilian Pilot Training Program (CPTP), which was administered by the Civil Aeronautics Authority when it was established in 1938, and had been available at Tuskegee Institute since 1939. But, at the time, the War Department was not planning to hire any CPTP pilots, regardless of their race, ethnicity, and/or gender (noted because CPTP even had women instructors). A few months later, however, with the beginning of World War II, the War Department started looking at CPTP as a resource for pilots – but, they were only interested in certain pilots.
In the fall of 1940, Congress passed (and President Franklin Delano Roosevelt signed) the Selective Training and Service Act of 1940, which required men of a certain age to register for the draft and for all departments of the military to enlist those men, regardless of race. This essentially forced the United States Army Corp – which was on the verge of rebranding as the United States Army Air Forces (USAAF or AAF) – to announce that they were already working with Civil Aeronautics Authority (later known as the Civil Aeronautics Board (CAB)) . They did not, however, announce that they were fully prepared to roll out all-Black squadrons, that would have white officers – like the other segregated forces of the time. They had no intention of doing such a thing, because the decision-makers believed a 1925 “study” which indicated that African Americans were not mentally, physically, emotionally, and/or energetically qualified to fly or maintain regular planes – let alone fighter planes. But, they had no proof and so, someone in the War Department had the “brilliant” idea to use Congress’ mandate to prove, once and for all, that African Americans did not have the right stuff.
“It was a tremendous success, beyond their wildest dreams. So they established quotas. They were gettin’ so many volunteers for the air force, qualified young men, that they had to limit the size of the classes. They had so many pilots graduating, in spite of Washington washing pilots out of flying school for ridiculous reasons, such as not wearing your hat on straight or not saying ‘Yes, sir’ to one of the instructors. You got washed out because of attitude, not flying ability. One fellow that washed out in advanced training as a pilot was hired two weeks later as a flying instructor. (Laughs.)
Mayor Coleman Young of Detroit, who was one of the Tuskegee Airmen, recalls: ‘I was washed out as a fighter pilot. I’m told it was because of FBI intervention. I had already graduated from officers’ school in October of ’42, at Fort Benning. They literally pulled guys off the stage, ’cause FBI, Birmingham, was accusin’ them of subversion, which may have been attendin’ a YMCA meeting in protest against discrimination.’”
– quoted from the oral recollections of Captain Lowell Steward, 100th Fighter Squadron, 332nd Fighter Group in “Flying High: Lowell Steward” in BOOK THREE of “The Good War” – An Oral History of World War II by Studs Terkel
By the time the general public heard that African Americans were going to serve as pilots, the War Department and the United States Army Corp had already implemented exclusionary policies and employed psychologists to administer standardized tests to quantify IQ, dexterity, and leadership qualities that would best serve each role. They also adjusted the qualification specifications as an additional barrier to entry. However, they grossly underestimated the intelligence, courage, and physical ability, as well as the sheer will and determination of men like the Golden Tigers from Tuskegee University. They also completely discounted the fact that most of the men who showed up to be tested were already civilian pilots who had trained (and, in some cases taught) through CPTP and the fact that the Tuskegee pilots who passed the test did so at higher rates than at other Southern schools.
There was another thing they did not consider: the cadets were prepared for the fact that many people in the government and in the military were working against them. So, as the upper echelon of the military ran their intelligence “study,” the pilots and their supporters were running a counterintelligence operation, one that ensured there would be “Black wings” in the air. The NAACP and the Black media rallied behind the pilots. The pilots kept showing up for training.
In what some people considered a purely political move, President Roosevelt’s public announcement about African American pilots came around the same time that Benjamin O. Davis, Sr. was promoted, becoming the first Black brigadier general in the Army, and that Judge Hastie was named as the advisor to Secretary of War Stimson. A few months later, on March 22, 1941, the first set of enlisted cadets started training to be mechanics in (at Chanute Field in Illinois). This was the beginning of the 99th Pursuit Squadron (later designated as the 99th Fighter Squadron) – and there was not a single person designated as a pilot by the military. Soon after the mechanical training began, Elmer D. Jones, Dudley Stevenson, and James Johnson (all from Washington, DC); Nelson Brooks (from Illinois); and William R. Thompson (from Pittsburgh, PA) were admitted to the Officers Training School (OTS) at Chanute Field. These were the first aviation cadets on the officer track and they would successfully complete OTS and be commissioned as the first Black Army Air Corps Officers. Then came that famous visit from First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt and her very public statements that they were “good pilots.”
“The days at Tuskegee have given me much to think about. To see a group of people working together for improvement of undesirable conditions is very heartening. The problems seem great, but at least they are understood and people are working on them. Dr. Carver, whom I saw for a few minutes, has been at work for many years; and our hosts, the present heads of Tuskegee, Dr. [Frederick Douglass Patterson] and Mrs. [Catherine Moton] Patterson, are ably carrying on the work.”
– quoted from “My Day” (events from Monday, March 13, 1941) by Eleanor Roosevelt
Brigadier General Davis, Sr.’s son, Benjamin O. Davis, Jr., had followed in his father’s footsteps. Although, their paths’ were slightly different (because times had changed a little bit). Both men served with the Buffalo Soldiers – Sr. as an enlisted man, Jr. as an officer. Both men were initially commissioned as second lieutenants – Jr. in 1932, when he became the fourth African American man to graduate from the U. S. Military Academy (West Point); Sr. in 1901, after Lieutenant Charles Young (the third African American to graduate from West Point, class of 1889) encouraged him to take the officer candidate officer test. Both men were eventually assigned to teach military science and tactics at Tuskegee – so that they would not be seen as senior to white recruits. While Benjamin O. Davis, Jr. had applied to the Army Air Corps while he was at West Point – and been rejected because of race – the changes in regulations meant a change in his trajectory. On July 19, 1941, Captain Benjamin O. Davis, Jr. and twelve more aviation cadets begin their primary flight training.
By November, only Captain Davis, Jr. and four cadets we going through basic and advanced training courses at Tuskegee Army Air Field. Captain Davis Jr. of D. C.; Captain George S. Roberts of London, Virginia; 2nd Lt. Charles DeBow Jr. of Indianapolis, Indiana; 2nd Lt. Mac Ross of Selma, Alabama; and 2nd Lt. Lemuel R. Custis of Hartford, Connecticut became the first African American combat fighter pilots in the U.S. military. Captain Benjamin O. Davis, Jr. was promoted to lieutenant colonel soon after they graduated and. over the course of World War II, the five would serve as leadership for the 332nd Fighter Group (in particular, for the 99th Pursuit Squadron (later designated as the 99th Fighter Squadron), the 301st Fighter Squadron, and the 100th Fighter Squadron).
“I was brainwashed as a child that I would not be able to fly. This is what I wanted to do when I was a little kid. At Tuskegee, they assembled black men from all over the United States to go into this flying school. They recruited All-American athletes. They had mathematical geniuses. They had ministers, doctors, lawyers, farm boys, all down there trying to learn to fly. All the fellows we were with were of top notch caliber.
According to Mayor Coleman Young, ‘They set up this Jim Crow Air Forces OCS School in Tuskegee. They made the standards so damn high, we actually became an elite group. We were screened and super-screened. We were unquestionably the brightest and most physically fit young blacks in the country. We were super better because of the irrational laws of Jim Crow. You can’t bring that many intelligent young people together and train ’em as fighting men and expect them to supinely roll over….’”
– quoted from the oral recollections of Captain Lowell Steward, 100th Fighter Squadron, 332nd Fighter Group in “Flying High: Lowell Steward” in BOOK THREE of “The Good War” – An Oral History of World War II by Studs Terkel
In the air, they would be recognized by their Red Tails. But, at first, they just waited. Because, even after the United States entered World War II, the Army had no intention of sending the Tuskegee Airmen into combat. More pilots and ground crew were trained, and each unit was deployed to somewhere in the United States. Once again, their supporters stepped in. Judge William H. Hastie resigned as the civilian aid to the War Department, bringing public awareness to the fact that men were serving with distinction, but being treated in a way that was unbecoming of the military. First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt stepped also in to advocate for the pilots. Finally, in April 1943, some of the Tuskegee Airmen were sent to North Africa. The assignment was designed to limit their contact with the Axis forces, so they could be deemed superfluous. Eventually, however, they proved themselves – but, even that wasn’t enough for the War Department.
In September 1943, Time magazine ran an article leaking the fact that the War Department was planning to disband the Tuskegee Airmen. Colonel Benjamin O. Davis, Jr., commander of the 332nd Fighter Group, publicly stood up for his men and their record. By the end of 1943, some Black pilots had earned medals in combat and more squadrons were being sent overseas. Although they also served as bombardiers, the “Red Tails” became known for their escort record. They would fly 1,578 missions and 15,533 combat sorties.
“According to researcher/historian and DOTA Theopolis W. Johnson, the following information relates to the ‘Tuskegee Experience’:
‘That is…. anyone–man or woman, military or civilian, black or white–who serves at Tuskegee Army Air Field or any of the programs stemming from the “Tuskegee Experience” between the years 1941 and 1949 is considered to be a documented original Tuskegee Airman (DOTA)’”
– quoted from “Tuskegee Experience” as prepared by Ron Brewington, former National Public Relations Officer, Tuskegee Airmen, Inc. (TAI)
As a Tuskegee historian and DOTA, Theopolis W. “Ted” Johnson estimated that 16,000 – 19,000 people were part of the “Tuskegee Experience” – 14,632 of whom he was able to personally document before passing in 2006. This estimate included 929 American pilot graduates, 5 Haitian pilots (from the Haitian Air Force), 11 instructor pilot graduates, and 51 liaison pilot graduates. Based on other estimates, I believe the overall total also includes 1 pilot from Trinidad and at least one Hispanic or Latino airman born in the Dominican Republic. From 1941 until 1946, 84 Tuskegee Airmen were killed overseas (including 80 pilots – 68 of whom were identified as “Killed In Action” or “Missing in Action” (with 30 possible “Prisoners of War”) and 4 enlisted people killed while performing their duties. In addition to a Congressional Gold Medal, awarded to all members of the “Tuskegee Experience,” the Tuskegee Airmen individually and/or collectively received the Presidential Unit Citation (3); Legion of Merit (1); Silver Star (1); Soldier Medal (4); Distinguished Flying Cross (96); Purple Heart (60); Bronze Star (25); Air Medal (1031 = 265 Air Medals + 766 Clusters); and a Red Star of Yugoslavia.
As for the original five Tuskegee officers, all would serve with distinction; be promoted (with Benjamin O. Davis, Jr., eventually becoming the first African American brigadier general in the USAF and being promoted to a four-star general after he retired); and, in some cases, they commanded integrated squadrons. Captain Mac Ross was the only one of the original five who did not make it back home after the war; but, all are remembered and have been honored in a variety of ways.
They were Tuskegee’s Golden Tigers flying “tin cans” with Red Tails, but what really made the difference was that they had will, determination, and hearts of steel. They also had dreams and they thought – hoped and prayed – that their service would make all the difference; that coming home as veterans, heroes, and victors would mean a change in the way they were viewed and they way they were treated in the United States.
Little did they know.
Maybe, if they had known what was going on – literally in their own backyard – they would have had different dreams, hopes, and prayers.
“…I had saved money, was married, and had a little child.
I went to buy a house in Beverly Hills, advertised for sale for veterans. I had the qualifications and the financing. They told me I couldn’t buy it. So I started studying real estate. I’ve been at it thirty years. My main reason for going into real estate was to find a good home for myself. A lot of work I’ve done much of that time was finding neighborhoods and homes that blacks could buy. That’s the way I’ve made a living for thirty years.
World War Two has had a tremendous impact on black people as a whole. There have always been strides for black people after every war, especially that one. But after the war is over, they revert back to bigotry. That war has definitely changed me. Colonel [Edward C.] Gleed and I are just two of the 996 black pilots of World War Two. He’s changed as a career man and I, as a civilian minute man. We helped win the war for our country and now I’m back home.”
– quoted from the oral recollections of Captain Lowell Steward, 100th Fighter Squadron, 332nd Fighter Group in “Flying High: Lowell Steward” in BOOK THREE of “The Good War” – An Oral History of World War II by Studs Terkel
Syphilis is a venereal (i.e., sexually transmitted disease) that was first described by a European physician in the late 1400’s and known as “syphilis” by 1553. Over the centuries, incidence rates waxed and waned – but it was still mostly associated with Europe. All of that changed, however, during World War I when it came back with a vengeance and spread all over the world. By the time World War II started, leaders like President Franklin Delano Roosevelt were pushing for someone to find a solution and a cure. A cure, penicillin, had actually been discovered in 1925 – but, it would be almost two decades before anybody documented using it to cure syphilis. In the meanwhile, a whole bunch of things were tested… and not tested.
In 1929, the Rosenwald Fund decided to fund syphilis treatment pilot programs in five Southern states, including Alabama. In fact, on Wednesday, February 12, 1930, the executive committee of the Rosenwald Fund approved two grants (totaling $10,000) to the Alabama State Board of Health. The bulk of the grants ($7,750) was an outright gift. The second grant ($2,250) was “conditional upon the state’s appropriating of an equal amount toward the salary and expenses of the state v. d. control officer.” For a variety of reasons, Macon County and Tuskegee Institute were chosen as the program site. Testing and recruitment began almost immediately; but the Rosenwald Fund ended their contributions (in 1932) when the state failed to hold up their financial end of the bargain.
But, remember, the United States government was really eager to resolve the syphilis issue and so the study didn’t end when the funds dried up. The U.S. Public Health Service took over and 660 men were promised free medical care, meals, transportation, health care, and burial payments for their widows. This was at a time when many people in the rural South, regardless of ethnicity or race, were too poor to afford healthcare. People were use to making do and pushing through – until the couldn’t – and the primary nurse (a graduate of Tuskegee, who also recruited most of the men) recommended telling the men (including those in the control group, who were not infected) that they had “bad blood.”
The men were not told, however, that intention of the program had changed and that they would not actually receive treatment for their ailment. Nor were they offered penicillin when it started being widely used as a cure in the mid-1940’s. Neither were they told that the U. S. Public Health Service was working with the government in Guatemala to actually infect and “study” Guatemalan citizens (1946 – 1948); nor that the white doctor in charge, John Charles Cutler, also oversaw a “study” where prisoners in the Terre Haute federal penitentiary were being infected with strains of gonorrhea in exchange for $100, a certificate of merit, and a letter of commendation to the parole board. (1943 – 1944). Remember, they weren’t even told that they had syphilis!
“Infection rates soared as a result of the First World War. In the mid-1920s syphilis was killing 60,000 people a year in England and Wales, compared to tuberculosis, which was causing 41,000 deaths a year. An enormous propaganda effort unfolded, led by governments and a whole variety of voluntary associations, for the prevention of sexually transmitted diseases. In the USA, Roosevelt’s New Deal pushed a major public health programme centred [sic] on the disease.”
– quoted from the Microbiology Today [Issue: Sexually transmitted infections (STIs). 21 May 2013] article entitled “Syphilis – The Great Scourge” by Sir Richard Evans, Regius Professor of History and President of Wolfson College, Cambridge
While the other experiments were shut down after a year or two, the “Tuskegee Syphilis Study” continued until 1972 – when a whistleblower’s tip led to a story that appeared in the Washington Star and then landed on the front page of The New York Times. Peter Buxtun, the whistleblower, is a Prague-born American of Jewish and Czechoslovakian descent, who (in his inexperience and naivete) spent several years going through proper government channels in order to report the unethical misconduct endured by the men in Tuskegee. In the four decades of gross misconduct, at least 28 patients died directly from syphilis, 100 died from complications related to syphilis, 40 wives of patients were infected with syphilis, and 19 children were born with congenital syphilis.
The NAACP filed a class action lawsuit on behalf of the men and their descendants. As part of a 1974 settlement, the U. S. government paid the plaintiffs $10 million (the equivalent of $60,683,569.98 in 2022) and agreed to provide free medical treatment to surviving participants and surviving family members infected as a consequence of the study. The settlement also required the government to publicly disclose information about the incident and provide future oversight, which led to the National Research Act of 1974, the creation of the Belmont Report: Ethical Principles and Guidelines for the Protection of Human Subjects of Research, Report of the National Commission for the Protection of Human Subjects of Biomedical and Behavioral Research (issued on September 30, 1978; published in the Federal Register on April 18, 1979.); and the establishment of the National Commission for the Protection of Human Subjects of Biomedical and Behavioral Research, and (eventually) the Office for Human Research Protections (OHRP), which is part of the United States Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS).
While the “Tuskegee Syphilis Study” is one of the worst parts of American history and has created decades upon decades of mistrust within the African American and Southern communities, the aftermath includes oversight that can prevent such extreme (and systematic) disregards of the Hippocratic Oath from ever happening again. Or, at least that is what I would like to believe. I am not suggesting that all medical racism was resolved in the 1970’s – healthcare discrepancies today clearly show that that is not the case – neither am I suggesting that the government is completely transparent when it comes to public health issues. However, I don’t believe what happened in Tuskegee could quietly happen again. Don’t get me wrong: There’s not enough preventing it from happening today. But, today [I believe/hope/pray], someone would speak up… loudly.
Tuskegee University motto: “Scientia Principatus Opera”
I do not, necessarily, steer away from hard themes. I lead classes on Holocaust Remembrance Day, Martyrs’ Day (which is also the anniversary of Bloody Sunday in Ireland), Sophie Lancaster Day, and the anniversaries of Bloody Sunday (in the U. S.), the Black Wall Street massacre, D-Day, 9/11, Kristallnacht, and Pearl Harbor. But, I also pick and choose what I bring to the mat – and, I apologize, but I don’t think I will ever do a class about the “Tuskegee Syphilis Study.”
“One school is better than another in proportion as its system touches the more pressing needs of the people it aims to serve, and provides the more speedily and satisfactorily the elements that bring them honorable and enduring success in the struggle of life. Education of some kind is the first essential of the young man, or young woman, who would lay the foundation of a career. The choice of the school to which one will go and the calling he will adopt must be influenced in a very large measure by his environments, trend of ambition, natural capacity, possible opportunities in proposed calling, and the means at his command.”
– quoted from “Tuskegee And Its People: General Introduction” by Booker T. Washington, as printed in Tuskegee & Its People: Their Ideals and Achievements by Emmett Jay Scott, edited by Booker T. Washington
*NOTE: Not all of the indicated alumni received their graduate degrees from Tuskegee.
### “Lord, I can’t condemn / The fear that they feel // … For that river of red / Could be the death of me / God, give me strength / And keep reminding me / That blood is thicker than water / Oh, but love is / Thicker than blood” ~GB ###
Many blessings to those observing and/or preparing for Lent. Peace and ease to all during this “Season for Non-violence” and all other seasons!
This is a special post for February 11th and February 12th.The word for these dates are creativity and humility. You will find both in the stories below.
“‘What was Jake’s last name? Can you tell me?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t think he had one. He was one of those flying African children. They must all be dead a long time now.’
‘Flying African children?’”
– Milkman and Susan Byrd in Chapter 14 of Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
According to Orville Wright, the desire to fly is a human birthright “handed down to us by our ancestors” and I easily buy into that idea because I grew up hearing so many stories about flying: from Daedalus and Icarus to Wilbur and Orville Wright and from Amelia Earhart to the Tuskegee Airmen. Then there were stories of enslaved Africans who, as one of my favorite spirituals indicated, could “fly away.” Later, I would learn that they flew in all the different ways people fly in Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon. Of course, the history of flight – as it is usually taught in the United States – is very much “his”–story, a story of men in flight. With the exception of those Africans in the song, the Tuskegee Airmen, and Toni Morrison’s characters (and the notable exception, of Ms. Earhart and Pilate), the stories I heard growing up were mostly about white men in flight. Oh, yes, and many of these stories – especially the ones not about white men – ended tragically.
But, what about the stories just regarding women? And, what about the stories that didn’t end tragically? How creative did people have to be to follow their dreams and let their hearts soar?
Well, for many years, women in the United States were only hired as flight attendants (née stewardesses or cabin hostesses) a job that mostly required women to meet a certain beauty standard – and, in America, for a long time, that beauty standard did not include women who were minorities. So, it is no surprise that the first Black person hired as a stewardess was actually African. Her name is Léopoldine Emma Doualla-Bell Smith – and, she had no idea she was making history when she became a stewardess in 1957. In fact, for many years, people would identify Ruth Carol Taylor as the first Black stewardess, because of all the publicity surrounding her maiden flight on February 11, 1958.
“Once there was a princess who made history in the sky…. She loved animals and wanted to be a veterinarian. But her father said women could only be nurses or teachers. Her father was wrong.”
– quoted from the profile of Léopoldine Emma Doualla-Bell Smith in Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls: 100 Real-Life Tales of Black Girl Magic by CaShawn Thompson, edited by Lilly Workneh
Léopoldine Emma Doualla-Bell Smith is a princess, born into the royal Douala family of Cameroon. In high school, she received ground hostess training for Union Aéromaritime de Transport (UAT) and Air France and then, when she graduated at the age of seventeen, she went to Paris to take flight training. The following year, in 1957, she joined UAT as a “hôtesse de l’air,” In 1960, the same year that UAT merged with Transports Aériens Intercontinentaux to form Union de Transports Aériens (UTA), she was offered a job with Air Afrique, an airline created to service the eleven newly independent French-speaking nations. At the time, the then Miss Doualla-Bell was the only qualified African in French aviation and her employment identification card was No. 001. She was promoted to first cabin chief, but throughout her employment at Air Afrique she faced racism and sexism. Some white customers did not want her to serve them; others acted as if her “service” included sex. In fact, at one point she slapped a customer who touched her inappropriately. The incident. however, did not cost her her job. She retired from Air Afrique in 1969 and became the manager of Reunited Transport Leaders Travel Agency (in Libreville, Gabon) until she relocated to Washington D.C. in 1975.
While studying English at Georgetown University, she her future husband, an American named Leroy Smith. The Smiths moved to Gabon in 1976, at which point Mrs. Doualla-Bell Smith worked as an Air Zaire’s station and officer manager at the Libreville airport and supported the Skal Club (also known as Skal International), an international association that promoted travel and tourism in Africa. Beginning in 1983, the Smiths worked in the Peace Corps – yet, even then, Léopoldine Emma Doualla-Bell Smith kept working in travel and tourism. To this day, as a retiree in Denver, she volunteers at the Denver International Airport and promotes travel and tourism via the company she co-founded with her husband (Business and Intercultural Services for Educational Travel and Associated Learning (BISETAL)).
“Although [Léopoldine Emma Doualla Bell Smith] developed close relationships with some of her fellow flight crewmembers over the years, the racial divide was clear when they stepped off the plane in other countries.
For example, during the days of apartheid in South Africa she was not allowed to walk off the plane with her co-workers. Instead of joining the rest of the crew at a local hotel, once she was covered and whisked away to the home of a fellow employee who lived in the country.”
– quoted from the NBC News story “World’s First Black Flight Attendant Honored: Léopoldine Doualla-Bell Smith, world’s first black flight attendant honored.” (posted online March 15, 2015)
While the young Léopoldine Emma Doualla-Bell Smith didn’t know she was making history in 1957, Ruth Carol Taylor was very intentional in her decision to break the color barrier. She was born in Boston, Massachusetts in December 27, 1931. Her father, William Edison Taylor, was a barber and her mother, Ruth Irene Powell Taylor, was a nurse. The family moved to a farm in upstate New York when Ms. Taylor was young and so she ended up attending Elmira College and then earning a Nursing degree from Bellevue School of Nursing in New York City. She worked as a registered nurse for several years and then decided to apply to be a stewardess at Trans World Airline (TWA), which rejected her application. Not to be thwarted, she filed a complaint against the company with the New York State Commission on Discrimination and also applied to Mohawk Airlines, a regional carrier, that had publicly expressed interest in hiring minority flight attendants.
About 800 Black women applied to the regional carrier, which hired Ruth Taylor in December of 1957. On February 11, 1958, she flew from Ithaca to New York City and, in the process, became the first African American flight attendant. The flight created so much publicity (and public pressure) that TWA, the airline that had rejected Ms. Taylor, hired Margaret Grant in May 1958. Ms. Grant, who was attending Hunter College at the time, was publicly declared the first African American flight attendant for a major airline carrier. She started training on June 12, 1958, after she graduated; however, she was terminated before she completed the training, because it was discovered that she had sickle cell anemia.
Around the same time Ms. Grant started her training, Ruth Carol Taylor was forced to give up her position, because she married her fiancé Rex Legall (they had been engaged since before she was hired). The couple moved to the British West Indies and then to London, and also had a daughter, before getting a divorce. Ms. Taylor subsequently moved to Barbados, where she created the country’s first professional nursing journal, and had a son, before returning to New York City in 1977. In addition to participating in the Civil Rights Movement, she co-founded the Institute for InterRacial Harmony (IIH), which developed the Racism Quotient Test, to measure racist/colorist attitudes and, in 1985, she wrote The Little Black Book: Black Male Survival in America or Staying Alive and Well in an Institutionally Racist Society.
“…[Ruth Carol Taylor] didn’t take the job because she thought being a flight attendant would be so great. She says she did it to fight discrimination.
‘It wasn’t something that I had wanted to do all my life,’ she tells JET about being a flight attendant. ‘I knew better than to think it was all that glamourous. But it irked me that people were not allowing people of color to apply… Anything like that sets my teeth to grinding.’”
– quoted from the JET Magazine article entitled, “First Black Flight Attendant Is Still Fighting Racism” (printed in the “Labor” section of the May 12, 1997 issue)
After Ruth Carol Taylor and Margaret Grant in 1958, no other African Americans would be hired by airlines until 1960. Eventually, however, African Americans were employed in every aspect of aviation. A prime example of that is the fact that, on February 12, 2009, then Captain Rachelle Jones Kerr, First Officer Stephanie Grant, and Flight Attendants Robin Rogers and Diana Galloway became the first all African American commercial flight crew. Their historic flights (on Atlantic Southeast Airlines flights #5202 and #5106, between Atlanta and Nashville) were not planned; they happened because someone called in sick. Still, the odds of everything falling into place as it did were pretty low considering there were less Black women licensed to fly then than there are now; and now, there are still less than 1%.
There are several initiatives to change the overall landscape. For instance, women have operated Delta Air Lines’ WING program (Women Inspiring the Next Generation) since 2015. The program introduces school-aged girls to jobs in science, technology, engineering and math (STEM) via flights fully staffed by women. This means that the students get to see women are working as pilots, flight attendants, ticket agents, baggage handlers, air traffic controllers, ground crew, and Transportation Security Administration (TSA) agents.
In 2016, former U. S. Coast Guard pilot Angel Hughes and United Airlines pilot Nia Gilliam-Wordlaw organized a meeting that would become Sisters of the Skies (SOS), “a nationally recognized [non-profit] organization focused on increasing the number of black female pilots in professional flight decks in both military and commercial aviation.” SOS holds networking conferences, provides mentors for aspiring pilots, and also offers scholarships.
“When we got to the gate in Nashville, and all of the passengers were off, we asked the gate agent would she take our picture. So we stuffed ourselves in the galley and one by one, she took our cell phones and snapped our picture. She asked us, ‘Why do you want your pictures taken?’ Flight Attendant, Diana Galloway said, “Oh, it’s because we’re sisters!’ The gate agent’s response was priceless. She said, “Oh, your mother must be so proud!’”
– quoted from “12th Anniversary of the First All-Female African American Flight Crew” by First Officer Stephanie Grant, Director of Development for Sisters of the Skies, Inc.
Before any of the women above flew – in fact, before any of these women were born and could dream of flying – “the Black Swallow” and “Queen Bess” were among a handful of Black, Indigenous, and Asian Americans flying through the air.
Eugene James Bullard, later known as Eugene Jacques Bullard, is remembered as the first African American fighter pilot to fly in combat, and one of four Black pilots during World War I. Although he was the only one of the four from the United States, her never flew for America. Born October 9, 1895, in Columbus, Georgia, he escaped the racism of the South as so many others did at the time – by becoming an expatriate. First he traveled to Scotland and then to England and France. In fact, he was in France at the beginning of World War I and served in several of France’s Marching Regiment of the Foreign Legion (R.M.L.E.). He eventually joined the 170th French Infantry Regiment, but was wounded on the Western Front, in March 1916, during the Battle of Verdun. During his recovery, he learned to fly (as part of a bet) and was able to go through training at the Aerial Gunnery School in Cazaux, Gironde and flight training at Châteauroux and Avord. After receiving his pilot’s license (#6950) from the Aéro-Club de France on May 5, 1917, he returned to the Western Front as one of the 270 American aviators at the Lafayette Flying Corps. That same year, Corporal Bullard was assigned to Escadrille SPA 93. Around the same time that he was flying for France, the United States started recruiting the Americans in the Lafayette Flying Corps; however, the man who would earn 14 French war medals and became known as “L’Hirondelle noire” or “L’Hirondelle noire de mort” (“The Black Swallow” or “The Black Swallow of Death”) was not selected to join the Air Service of the American Expeditionary Forces simply because he was Black.
After World War I, he returned to Paris and worked in as a jazz musician, a club manager, a club owner, a boxer, and a variety of other capacities that put him in close proximity with members of the Harlem Renaissance (not to mention their white contemporaries). He also opened Bullard’s Athletic Club which was a gymnasium offering physical culture, boxing, massage, ping pong and hydrotherapy. He briefly served in the French infantry during World War II; however, after being wounded, he returned to the United States, via Spain. Despite being brutally attacked during the Peekskill riots, Eugene Jacques Bullard would live in New York City until he died of stomach cancer on October 12, 1961.
“One fact, however, emerged as a constant throughout Bullard’s incredible 66 years. Despite late-life recognition in his birth country, which included a well-publicized embrace by a visiting Charles De Gaulle, and, in 1959, a deep tribute on the radio from Eleanor Roosevelt, Bullard never enjoyed the pursuit of happiness in America that he did in France, where he was awarded numerous prestigious honors. As [journalist Phil Keith, with his co-author Tom Clavin] write, ‘It was a proud moment for a black man not quite 21-years-old, far from home, and recognition he never could have received had he been on American soil.’”
– quoted from the NPR’s Baum on Books “Book Review: ‘All Blood Runs Red’” by Joan Baum (published January 30, 2020)
Elizabeth “Bessie” Coleman became the first African American woman and first Native American to hold a pilot license when she earned her license from the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale on June 15, 1921. Her African American and Cherokee heritage also made her the first Black person and the first Indigenous American to earn an international pilot’s license. Born in Atlanta, Texas on January 26, 1892, the woman who became known as “Queen Bess” and “Brave Bessie” would eventually make her living as a stunt pilot. Before that, however, she worked as a laundrywoman in Waxahachie, Texas. She earned enough money taking in laundry and picking cotton to attend one semester at the Colored Agricultural and Normal University (now Langston University, the only Historically Black Colleges or Universities in Oklahoma). When she had to drop out of college, due to a lack of funds, followed her brothers to Chicago, Illinois, where trained at Burnham School of Beauty Cultures to be a manicurist at a barbershop. In fact, it was at the barbershop that she got truly motivated to be a pilot.
Since no American flight school would train her, Bessie Coleman used the money she earned as a manicurist to learn French and then travel to France to take flying lessons. Once trained, she became a barnstorming daredevil. She was often criticized for the risks she took – and she was no stranger to accidents and broken bones and bruises. But, her aerobatic stunts gave her a platform which she used to speak out against racism, to promote aviation, and to encourage people of color to pursue aviation as career (or a hobby). Like some other prominent entertainers, she put her money where her mouth was and refused to perform at events where African Americans were not permitted to attend.
“One day John Coleman strutted into the White Sox Barbershop and began teasing Bessie. He started comparing African-American women to French women he had seen during [World War I]. John said that African-American women could not measure up to French women. The French women had careers. They even flew airplanes. He doubted that African-American women could fly like the French women. Bessie waited for the barbershop customers to stop laughing. Then she replied, ‘That’s it. You just called it for me.’”
– quoted from “Chapter 3. Seeking Independence” in The Life of Bessie Coleman: First African-American Woman Pilot by Connie Plantz
Ultimately, being a principled daredevil while also facing racism cost her. At one point, she opened up a beauty salon in Chicago in order to earn extra money so that she could buy her own airplane. Sadly and tragically, the airplane she was able to purchase was poorly maintained. On April 30, 1926, in preparation for an air show in Jacksonville, Florida, the plane spiraled out of control killing Bessie Coleman and her mechanic and publicist, William D. Wills, who had been piloting the airplane.
Although Bessie Coleman’s was just barely 34 years old when she tragically died doing what she loved, her legacy still lives. There have been schools, scholarships, and at least one library named after her. The United States Postal service issued a commemorative stamp in her honor in 1995; a Google Doodle was posted on what would have been her 125th birthday; she has been inducted into numerous halls of fame; and Mattel recently issued a Barbie doll in her honor. There are streets and boulevards named after her in the United States and there are airport roads bearing her name all over the world.
Bessie Coleman’s legacy also lives on in the lives of the women she inspires and the people they inspire. For instance, in 1992, Mae Carol Jemison (born October 17, 1956) became the first Black woman to travel into space. At the time, the African American chemical engineer and M. D. was working for the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) as a mission specialist aboard the Space Shuttle Endeavour. She was making history at the age of 35 (mere weeks before her 36th birthday) – and she was doing it while carrying a photo of the Brave/Queen Bessie.
There have been also been commemorative fly-overs in her honor and, in 2022, a commemorative American Airlines flight (from Dallas-Fort Worth to Phoenix) was fully staffed by African American women: from the cockpit and aisles all the way to the tarmac (cargo and maintenance crew) there were sisters of the skies.
“For communities who may not fly often, that outreach and activism from Black aerospace professionals and pilots can combat the unknown and can help show Black communities that being a pilot is a real possibility.
‘A parent comes up to me and she says, “You a pilot?” and I said, “Yes, ma’am.” And she said, “They let us be pilots?” And that really was something,’ says [Delta Airlines Captain Stephanie Johnson]. ‘The parents don’t know what the opportunities are, because they didn’t grow up with opportunities. And so it was even more important, that “OK, this has just got to be my life because I can open people’s eyes.”’”
– quoted from the AFAR article “Where Are All the Black Women Pilots? – Nearly a century after Bessie Coleman first took to the skies, Black women remain a rarity in the cockpit.” by Syreeta McFadden (February 20, 2020)
This year, just before the Super Bowl kick-off, the annual flyover was piloted by an all-women team of pilots (who had a maintenance crew that was mostly women). This was a historic occasion that marked 50 years of women flying in the United States Navy. This was not the first time, however, that a ceremonial Navy aircraft squadron had been flown by all women. In 2019, a team of women flew in the diamond formation during the funeral of (retired) Captain Rosemary Mariner, who was the Navy’s first female jet pilot. With regard to the Super Bowl flyover, the pilots made a point noting that they were honoring “every man and woman in the service” – which includes Lieutenant junior grade (Lt. j.g.) Madeline Swegle, the US Navy’s first Black woman to serve as fighter pilot.
All of those aforementioned Navy pilots fly in the proverbial footsteps of Jesse Leroy Brown, the first Black man to be accepted into Navy flight school, the first Black pilot to earn Wings of Gold, and the first Black Navy officer killed during the Korean War; Lt. Commander Brenda E. Robinson, one of only 10 women to attend the Navy’s Aviation Officer Candidate School in 1977, the first Black woman to serve as a Navy pilot, and the first Black woman to earn Wings of Gold; and Shawna Rochelle Kimbrell, the first Black woman to serve as a fighter pilot in the United States Air Force.
“…fill the air with ‘Black Wings’.”
– quoted from “Chapter XIV – A Plan” in Black Wings by Lieut. William J. Powell
NOTE: Lieutenant Powell served in the the 370th Illinois Infantry Regiment during World War I and was able to obtain train to be a pilot in the United States in (at the Los Angeles School of Flight, 1928 – 1932). He dedicated his book to Bessie Coleman and founded the Bessie Coleman Aero Club, which welcomed people of all races and genders.
Practice Notes: Two or three times a year, I lead flight-inspired practices where we explore physical terms like “pitch,” “yaw,” and “roll” – all movements that are already in our practice. This is also an opportunity to cultivate awareness around core engagement and different parts of the body (usually, feet or hips) that serve as our “landing gear.” A practice specifically related to flight attendants could include some extra lateral extension and some “funky” poses, where one elbow is flexed and one is extended (similar to the way one might lift a suitcase into an overhead bin). Naturally, “Airplane Pose” would be a peak pose.
### “And he still gives his love, he just gives it away / The love he receives is the love that is saved / And sometimes is seen a strange spot in the sky / A human being that was given to fly / Flying” ~ Pearl Jam ###
Peace and ease to all during this “Season of Non-violence” and all other seasons!
This is a special post for Tuesday, February 7th. You can request a recording of the Tuesday practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com. Please note that only the Tuesday evening practice references this profile.
WARNING: The following includes a recounting of the Scottsboro Boys trials.
“It’s a bad habit we have: We tell the tale of the murder and not the murdered.”
“I’ll also explain why my research has enraged so many people who claim to be experts in the Ripper case.”
“If you want to know how we got the Ripper story so wrong, what those mistakes tell us about ourselves, and why putting the record straight makes some people so very angry, join me, Hallie Rubenhold for Bad Women: The Ripper Retold.”
– quoted from the podcast trailer for Season 1of Bad Women: The Ripper Retold, hosted by Hallie Rubenhold
How we tell a story, especially a story about real life and real events, says a lot about how we feel about our circumstances. Same goes for what we read (if we are in the habit of reading for pleasure) and/or what other kinds of media we consume. On a certain level, it is all about escape. But, are we “escaping” because we need to decompress and give our brains a rest? Or are we “escaping” because we’re not satisfied with our lot in life? If it’s the latter, what would it take for to be content, satisfied – happy even – with our lot?
These are the kinds of questions I pose during classes on February 7th. They’re questions that serve as entryways into the practice of santoşā (“contentment”), which is the second niyama (“internal observation”) in the Yoga Philosophy (or, today, you can think of it as the Number 7 in the philosophy’s list of ethics). Answering the question requires turning inward and doing a little svādhyāya (“self study”), which is the fourth niyama. One way to turn inward and take a look at yourself is to reflect on what you would do and how you would feel in certain situations. Classically, it might be understood that such reflection would be done in the context of sacred text; however, it is also possible to simply put yourself in someone else’s shoes.
For example, would you be content, satisfied – happy even, if you were a girl born in “a little house on the prairie” – or, would you dream of something more? Would you stay on the prairie, unsatisfied, like “a hard luck woman” waiting for your man? Or, would you be like Laura Ingalls Wilder (b. 02/07/1867, in Pepin Country, Wisconsin) and make your dreams come true by writing about your experiences (and all the people you knew)? Even then, how much of your dreams would need to come true for you to be grateful and, therefore, satisfied?
Or, perhaps, like Sinclair Lewis (b. 02/07/1885, in Sauk Centre, Minnesota) you were born in a northern town with “one light blinking off and on.” Would you be content, satisfied – happy even – or, would you dream of something more? Would you be the one in the song who never does the things they thought they would and never knew they could leave? Or, would you be the one, like Mr. Lewis, who left for the big city, wrote about your experiences (and all the people you knew), and became what everyone’s talking about down on Main Street? Even then, would you be grateful (and, therefore, satisfied) or would you be like Carol Milford and want to change everything?
The thing is, there is nothing wrong with dreaming, hoping, and praying for change. There is nothing inherently wrong with wanting to improve your situation and/or the situations of others. Nor is there anything wrong with wanting to change injustice laws and breakdown systems of inequity. You could be a common man, a simple man, a sweet man born in Tornado Alley – like Troyal Garth Brooks (b. 02/07/1962, in Tulsa, Oklahoma) – and dream of sharing your storytelling gifts with the world. But would you be satisfied? Would you be “happy in this modern world? Or do you need more?” And when would the “more” be enough for you to be grateful and, therefore, satisfied?
Take a moment to consider being yourself in one of those other people’s circumstances and then, let’s go a little deeper.
On Monday, I referenced the daily contemplation elements offered by the Mahatma Gandhi Canadian Foundation for World Peace during this Season of Nonviolence. Remember, these are elements found in the teaching of both Gandhi and the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The element for February 7th is dreaming and it brings to mind the fact that MLK (as well as Gandhi) dreamed of better worlds, more just worlds, more equitable worlds. They were committed to practicing non-violence and passive resistance, but they were not satisfied. They were not content (with the social status quo). Nor should they have been. Some things, after all, are unacceptable.
To practice santoşā, however, we must accept what is (i.e., what exists as it exists in the moment – or as we understand it to exist). Acceptance, in this case, does not mean that we just casually throw our hands up and accept violence, injustice, and inequity as basic staples of life. Neither does it mean that ignore what is happening around us. Instead, the practice requires us to be truthful about the situation, our roles in the situation, and what we can do to change the situation. The practice also requires us to proceed with clear-minded awareness of how we are connected to everything and everybody and to be dedicated and disciplined in our practice of non-violence and non-harming. Finally, the practice requires that we practice non-attachment; meaning that we do all we can do and then let go with a kind of trustful surrender. This is basically a summary of 9 of the 10 elements that make up the ethics of the Yoga Philosophy.
The elements that make up the corner stone of the Yoga Philosophy overlap commandments found in the Abrahamic religions, precepts found in Buddhism, and values found in philosophies and indigenous religions around the world. These are shared values that stretch back into eons and yet we still have problems… big problems – which means we still need leaders and, thinkers, and speakers who can hear what is needed in the world and respond wisely, safely, and justly. Such a man was born in Alabama, during the period of violence that directly preceded the Civil Rights Movement in the United States. His life and his legacy are yet another illustration of a dreamer who was not satisfied, yet made choices for which we can all be grateful.
“Editorials expressed hope that through participation in war, black citizens would gain opportunities at home. Among the outrages that the Reporter chronicled were frequent lynchings across the South, a topic that led [Oscar William Adams, Sr.] to write, ‘It is a shame before the living God and man that we should continue to preach democracy and permit such autocracy and savagery within our own borders.’”
– quoted from Bhamwiki.com (citing Gordon, Tom (May 2, 2018) “Civil decency. Human honesty.” B-Metro
Born in Birmingham, Alabama on February 7, 1925, Oscar William Adams, Jr. was the oldest of two sons born to Oscar William Adams, Sr. and Ella Virginia Adams (née Eaton). His brother, Frank “Doc” Adams became a great jazz clarinetist, saxophonist and bandleader, who was inducted into the Alabama Jazz Hall of Fame. Their father, the senior Mr. Adams, was a journalist and publisher who founded The Birmingham Reporter in 1906.
Unlike Black newspapers published in the North at the time, southern media outlets like The Birmingham Reporter had to tread carefully and be circumspect in it’s coverage of race-related news. To be too critical in opinion pieces or – in many cases – too honest about the facts of certain news stories, might mean that the newspaper, the journalists, and their families could be physically attacked. By all accounts, Oscar William Adams, Sr. had a real knack for creating layouts and crafting articles that told the whole story without explicitly telling the whole story. He couldn’t always tell his readers what happened, but he could show them. He could juxtapose articles about 9 Black kids being tried for rape with articles about almost twice as many white teenagers being exonerated before a trial. His readers had practice the skill of reading between the lines. It was like his readers understood the practice of focusing, concentrating, and meditating on the space between the ears and the process of hearing.
“In this state of withdrawal, ‘Great Disincarnation’ the mental coverings composed of rajas and tamas dwindle away and the light of sattwa is revealed.”
– quoted from How to Know God: The Yoga Aphorisms of Patanjali (3:42), translated and with commentary by Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood
That prime example (above) is one of the ways Oscar William Adams, Sr. covered the Scottsboro Boys, a group of nine African Americans teenagers (age 12 – 19 years old) who were accused of raping two white women on a train full of “hoboes.” Nowadays, people might think of hoboes, tramps, and bums as one and the same. During the Great Depression, however, people very clearly understood that a hobo was someone who was traveling in order to work (but didn’t have the means to pay for that travel). On March 25, 1931, a fight broke out (in Tennessee) on a Southbound train full of Black and white hobos, because a group of white teenagers declared the train “whites only.” Even though there were reportedly the same number of hoboes of each race on the train, the white teenagers ended up leaving the train. Defeated and angry, they told the local sheriff that they had been attacked by the Black teenagers. The sheriff – plus some local residents that he deputized – intercepted the train in Paint Rock, Alabama, and arrested the Black teenagers.
They also arrested two young white women (age 17 and 21 years old).
Now, if you know anything about “bad women,” you know that two unaccompanied white women traveling in the presence of men – especially Black men – didn’t have a lot of choices. They could be labeled as prostitutes – which, in this case (because they crossed state lines) would mean they had violated The White-Slave Traffic Act of 1910, also called the Mann Act, and could face lengthy prison terms. The other option was to say they were raped. Unlike most of the men, the two women knew each other and were actually traveling together. They decided (or, possibly the older one convinced the younger one) that it was in their best interest to say they were raped. A doctor was called in to examine them, but could find no signs of rape or trauma. It would later turn out that no one could truthfully confirm if the women and the teenagers were ever even in the same car. But, none of that mattered: it was 1931 and the teenagers would go to court in Scottsboro, Alabama.
At the end of three speedy trials, all eight of the nine teenagers – including one who was almost blind and another who was so disabled that he could barely walk – were convicted and sentenced to death by all-white juries. The youngest of the nine was convicted, but his trial ended in a hung jury, because they couldn’t agree on the penalty: some wanted him to receive the death penalty, despite his age. All of the cases were appealed to the Alabama Supreme Court and then the Supreme Court of the United States (SCOTUS), which overturned the convictions and sent the cases back down to Alabama. A change of venue was granted and all nine headed to court in rural Decatur, Alabama in the Spring of 1933.
Despite the decision for the cases to be re-tried, all nine were under heavy guard and the eight previously sentenced to death were in prison garb. Despite arguments from the defense attorneys (Samuel Leibowitz and Joseph Brodsky, who had also served as second chair on the earlier trials), the trials again had all-white juries. Despite the fact that youngest of the alleged victims recanted, the defendants were again convicted. The first of the nine was convicted despite the fact that many of the jurors knew he was innocent. But, Decatur was Klan country and the Ku Klux Klan made it very clear what they thought the outcome of the trials should be and what would happen to any juror who didn’t convict and recommend the death penalty. Judge James Edwin Horton set the verdict aside and indefinitely postponed the other trials. He did this, knowing it would end his political career. He also considered a change of venue, but, in the end, the first of the Scottsboro Boys faced his third trial in Decatur.
With a new judge, but no National Guard protection, the second set of retrials took place in Winter 1933 and resulted in two more convictions. Appeals to SCOTUS, in 1935, resulted in the convictions being overturned and Scottsboro 9 were back in court. This time, however, there was one African American juror: Creed Conyers, the first Black person to serve on an Alabama grand jury since 1877. The newly elected Attorney General served as the prosecuting attorney and the trials lasted from January of 1936 until the summer of 1937. After spending over six years in prison (as adults on death row), the legal fate of the Scottsboro Boys was as follows:
After 4 trials, Haywood Patterson (18 when arrested) was convicted and sentenced to 75 years in prison (the first time a Black man in Alabama had been convicted of raping a white woman and not received the death penalty). He escaped in 1949, end up in Michigan, but then went back to prison on a different case in 1951.
After 3 trials, Clarence Norris (19 when arrested) was convicted and given the death penalty. His sentence was commuted in 1938; he was paroled (and jumped parole) in 1946. He was pardoned in 1976.
After 2 trials, Charlie Weems (19 when arrested) was convicted and sentenced to 105 years. He was paroled in 1943.
After 2 trials, Andrew “Andy” Wright (19 when arrested) was convicted and sentenced to 99 years. He was paroled, violated his parole, then was placed on parole again (in New York) in 1950.
During his 2nd trial, Ozie Powell (16 when arrested) was shot by a sheriff and suffered brain damage. Somehow, he pleaded guilty to assaulting an officer and received 20 years, the rape charges were dropped as part of his plea agreement. He was paroled in 1946.
After 2 trials, the final prosecutor declared Olin Montgomery (17 when arrested) “not guilty” and dropped all charges.
After 2 trials, the final prosecutor declared Willie Roberson (16 when arrested) “not guilty” and dropped all charges.
After 2 trials, Roy Wright (12 when arrested) was deemed “too young” to be convicted and all charges were dropped.
After 2 trials, Eugene Williams (13 when arrested) was deemed “too young” to be convicted and all charges were dropped.
NOTE: The number of trials (noted above) does not count appeals or the fact that the defendants were often in the courtroom when others were being tried. Nor does it reflect the fact that sometimes jurors were swapped (like school kids moving between classrooms). Several of the aforementioned had other legal issues, but I have not listed them all.
In 1938, the Governor of Alabama (Bibb Graves) made plans to pardon those who were imprisoned, but changed his mind because he didn’t like their attitude and they continued to declare themselves innocent. In 2013, 82 years after they were arrested, the state of Alabama issued posthumous pardons for Haywood Patterson, Charlie Weems, and Andy Wright.
“Remembering their sharp and pretty Tunes for Sacco and Vanzetti, I said: Here too’s a cause divinely spun For those whose eyes are on the sun, Here in epitome Is all disgrace And epic wrong. Like wine to brace The minstrel heart, and blare it into song.
Surely, I said, Now will the poets sing. But they have raised no cry. I wonder why.”
– quoted from the poem “Scottsboro, Too, Is, Worth Its Song” by Countee Cullen
The trials and tribulations of the Scottsboro Boys inspired a plethora of writers, including Langston Hughes (Scottsboro Limited), Harper Lee (To Kill A Mockingbird), Ellen Feldman (Scottsboro: A Novel), Richard Wright (Native Son), Allen Ginsberg (America), Countee Cullen (“Scottsboro, Too, Is, Worth Its Song”), Jean-Paul Sartre (The Respectful Prostitute [La Putain respectueuse]), Utpal Dutta (মানুষের অধিকারে [The Rights of Man]); as well as creators of the musicals The Scottsboro Boys and Direct from Death Row The Scottsboro Boys; musicians like Lead Belly (“The Scottsboro Boys”) and Rage Against the Machine (“Scottsboro, Too, Is, Worth Its Song”); and filmmakers and political cartoonists.
The events also, inevitably, shaped the thoughts and desires of Oscar William Adams, Jr. – who would have turned 6 years old shortly before the teenagers were arrested (and his father started covering the story); 12 (the same age the youngest had been when arrested) when the final trials concluded; and around 18 (the same age the first to be convicted was when arrested) when the first man was paroled. Can you imagine what it would have been like to grow up in the Birmingham at that time? Regardless of if you visualize yourself as you are, in that situation or if you see yourself as the junior Mr. Adams, can you imagine how this situation might have informed your opinions – of yourself, of people who look like you, as well as of people who don’t look like you? Can you imagine how this situation would have informed your dreams and your decisions about the world?
And, this is all without considering “The Talk.”
I can’t imagine any Black child being satisfied with these circumstances. I can’t imagine any Black kid being content with these circumstances. I can’t imagine any Black teenager not dreaming about a better world; a more just, equitable, and peaceful world.
“The black man does not wish to be the pet of the law. The more blacks become enmeshed in meaningful positions in our society, then the more that society will be come non-discriminatory. His goals and ideals will become identical with goals and ideals of the rest of society. To insist on special treatment, and demand and get integration in other aspects of society is to pursue inconsistent approaches. If a black man is allowed to go as far as his talents will carry him, he will not need special protection from the courts. If he is not, the courts will once again be asked for special protection.”
– quoted from the special concurrence opinion for Beck v. State, 396 So. 2d 645 (1980) by Alabama Supreme Court Justice Oscar W. Adams
Maybe if Oscar William Adams, Jr. been someone else’s son and experienced Birmingham in the mid-20th century through someone else’s, he would have made different decisions. We’ll never know. What we do know is that after he graduated from high school, Mr. Adams, Jr. attended two historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs): Talladega College, Alabama’s oldest private HBCU, where he earned a degree in philosophy (1944) and Howard University, where he earned a law degree (1947). We also know that he came back to Alabama to practice.
Mr. Adams, Jr. was admitted to the Alabama State Bar soon after he graduated and opened up his own private practice, where he specialized in civil rights cases. He worked very closely with the Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth, founder of the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights (ACMHR) and co-founder of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), which was instrumental in organizing the Selma-to-Montgomery marches in 1965. He became the first African American member of Birmingham Bar Association (1966) and, in 1967, he and Harvey Burg co-founded the first integrated law firm in Alabama. Two years later, in 1969, he and James Baker, an Ivy League lawyer from Philadelphia, founded Birmingham’s first African American law firm. The firm became known as Adams, Baker & Clemon, the original partners were joined by U.W. Clemon, who would become a lot of notable firsts (including Alabama’s first African American federal judge).
Throughout his career as an attorney in private practice, Oscar William Adams, Jr. litigated various kinds of cases on behalf of Martin Luther King Jr. and the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), as well as school desegregation (e.g., Armstrong v. Board of Education of City of Birmingham, Ala., 220 F. Supp. 217 (N.D. Ala. 1963)); discrimination cases (e.g., Terry v. Elmwood Cemetery, 307 F. Supp. 369 (N.D. Ala. 1969) and Pettway v. AMERICAN CAST IRON PIPE COMPANY, 332 F. Supp. 811 (N.D. Ala. 1970)); and voting rights cases.
He became the first African American to serve on an Alabama appellate court on October 10, 1980, when an Alabama Supreme Court justice retired due to health issues. Eleven days before was sworn in, the court heard arguments for Beck v. State, 396 So. 2d 645 (1980), a case about the death penalty and how it was applied. The court’s decision would include a history of the death penalty in Alabama and highlight a period of injustices. However, stating that “during part of Alabama’s history, [what offenses authorized the imposition of death] reflected the interaction and relative position of the races, especially during the period prior to the Civil War, when slaves and free Negroes were admittedly singled out for special treatment insofar as capital punishment was concerned. Nevertheless, with that one exception…”made it sound as if the death penalty was rarely applied to innocent people purely based on their race – completely negating the fact that (in their lifetimes) it had been thusly applied multiple times. Mr. Adams, Jr. was sworn in on December 17th, listened to a recording of the argument and, two days later, wrote a special concurrence. It was his first official statement from the bench.
“In the early seventies, blacks argued for bifurcated jury trials, and this Court today has mandated such for the State of Alabama. In the seventies, blacks asked that sentences for rape and other offenses be not discriminatorily and freakishly imposed.”
– quoted from the special concurrence opinion for Beck v. State, 396 So. 2d 645 (1980) by Alabama Supreme Court Justice Oscar W. Adams
After completing the remaining two years of the unexpired term he had assumed, he decided to run for the office. The largest bar associations endorsed him, rather than his white counterparts, and in 1982, he became the first African American to be elected (by popular vote) to a statewide constitutional office in Alabama. He served on the Alabama Supreme Court until October 31, 1994, when retired from the bench. After his retirement from being behind the bench, he returned to the front: working with the Birmingham law firm of White, Dunn & Booker (now White, Arnold & Dowd). He also served as co-chairman of the Second Citizens’ Conference on Judicial Elections and Campaigns.
Oscar William Adams Jr. was replaced with the state’s second African American Supreme Court Justice, Ralph D. Cook. It would make for a great story if, in the intervening years – between 1980 and 1994 and between 1994 and today – more African American lawyers had become judges who became justices in the state of Alabama. That would be super satisfying.
Unfortunately, I can’t truthfully tell that story.
Associate Justice Cook retired from the bench in 2001. John H. England Jr served as a justice on the Alabama Supreme Court justice from 1999 until 2001. (His son, John H. England, III is one of a handful of African American judges in Alabama’s federal courts.) According to the Brennan Center for Justice’s 2022 update, Alabama is currently one of 28 states with no Black justices. Furthermore, it is one of six states where Black residents make up at least 10% of the population. Specifically, 35% of Alabama’s population is classified as people of color and 27% of the total population identifies as Black. Yet, all nine of the Supreme Court justices, all five members of the Court of Criminal Appeals, and all five of the Court of Civil Appeals are white.
Quite often, when statistics like this are presented, some people will say representation doesn’t matter as much as education and experience. Well, I am just grateful that more and more people are getting the education and the experience that puts them in the pipeline. That appreciation for the way things are changing is part of the practice of santoşā. If you ask me if I am actually satisfied and content to wait, I can honestly say that I have no choice; because I can’t (directly) do anything about it. And that acceptance (and awareness of what is and is not in my control) is the non-attachment part of the practice. Of course, the next logical question is: Well, when will you be satisfied? When will you be content? When posed with a similar question, SCOTUS associate justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg had a pretty succinct answer. I’m not sure if it would be my answer; but it is worth considering what the country would be like – what the world would be like – if the tables turned.
“Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg famously said, ‘I’m sometimes asked, “When will there be enough [women on the Supreme Court]?” And I say when there are nine. People are shocked. But there’d been nine men, and nobody’s ever raised a question about that.’
Asking, ‘How diverse is diverse enough?’ still represents a tick–the–box mentality rather than embracing the types of cultural, innovation, and bottom–line changes we have described here. When organizations start to embrace the breakthrough diversity can represent, we can move beyond thinking about quotas and targets. The real change we are talking about takes us far past ‘the one/the few’ to as many hires as it takes to create a culture of belonging and move our sector into the future.”
– quoted from “What Is Diverse Enough” in “Chapter 4. A Clear Case” of Creating Cultures of Belonging: Cultivating Organization where Women and Men Thrive by Beth Birmingham and Eeva Sallinen Simard (forward by Myal Greene and Emily Sarmiento)
PRACTICE NOTES: I don’t necessarily have a standard sequence for a February 7th practice, but it is a practice that leans towards having a fair amount of balance. Sometimes, I pose the question after completing a portion of the practice, Would you be satisfied if this was the end of the practice? Would you grateful (if you got what you needed), or would you still be wishing, hoping, praying for what you wanted? What would cause you to be more grateful and, therefore, more joyful.
Every once in a while, I’ll even throw in a tolāsana (scale pose).
Happy Spring Festival! Happy Carnival! Peace and ease to all during this “Season of Non-violence” and all other seasons!
This is a special post for Friday, February 3nd, which is also known as “The Day the Music Died. In 2023, it was also the 13th day of the Spring Festival, which is one of the days when people eat “clean” (more on that in the Friday post). In addition to all of that (and more) it is the anniversary of the birth of a man who (partially) inspired a big, barrier breaking, change in history – a change many people celebrate without ever knowing this particular man’s name.
“Rule 303: If you have the means at hand, you have the responsibility to act.”
“Do what you can, when you can, as much as you can, for as long as you can.”
– the t-shirt and (a paraphrased version of) common refrains on the YouTube channel “Beau of the Fifth Column”
Normally, on Day 13 of the Lunar New Year, I focus on what it means to be clean and practice some kind of “detox” sequence that highlights how the body naturally eliminates waste and how it is just as important for us to let go of things we don’t need physically as it is for us to let go of things that no longer serve us mentally, emotionally, energetically, and/or spiritually. This is also a day when some people celebrate the birthday of the “God of War” – who is associated with empathy and “brotherhood” – and so it can be a good day to reflect on how letting something go can actually bring us closer together.
Sometimes, however, we are not ready to let go. Sometimes, circumstances force us to figure out how to deal with the loss of a friend, a family member, a “brother” or “sister” – even someone we have never (physically) met and will never meet. Just as their is an inhale, a literal “inspiration,” there is an exhale – a literal “expiration” – and part of being alive is dealing with death. The big difference is that when we consciously bring our awareness to our breath, we can consciously and peaceful engage the concept of beginnings and endings.
Unfortunately, everyone isn’t promised peaceful beginnings and endings. Unfortunately, everyone doesn’t get to live long lives and pass peacefully in their sleep, surrounded by people who love them and who treated them well. Like so many recent years, this is one of those years when Lunar New Year celebrations here in the United States have been marred by horrible tragedies and losses that are beyond comprehension. Yet, people continue to come together to figure out how to move forward as a community. People keep connecting in order to honor rituals and traditions despite (or sometimes because of) the fear, anger, frustration, anxiety, grief, and dismay that arises.
People continue to live… and laugh and love… and play music – even though, as I mentioned before, today is the day the music died.
“For years, [Dr. Mike Miller], a research cardiologist, has been studying the effects of happiness — or things that make people happy — on our hearts. He began his research with laughter, and found watching funny movies and laughing at them could actually open up blood vessels, allowing blood to circulate more freely.
Miller thought, if laughter can do that, why not music? So, he tested the effects of music on the cardiovascular system. ‘Turns out music may be one of the best de-stressors — either by playing or even listening to music,’ said Miller.”
– quoted from a 2009 CNN Health segment entitled, “The power of music: It’s a real heart opener” by Val Willingham, CNN Medical Producer
Normally, on this date on the Gregorian calendar, I tell the story of the disastrous “Winter Dance Party” tour and how a plane carrying Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J. P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson crashed just outside of Clear Lake, Iowa, today in 1959. The tragic loss of the the three stars and the pilot, Roger Peterson, as they were traveling to Moorhead, MN, is compounded by the fact that they were all so young, that they were all really started to live their lives as husbands and fathers, and that the three musicians were right on the precipice of making sure their names would never be forgotten simply because of their music. Over the years, as I have recounted this story, I have encountered people who were directly connected to the events of 1959, people who remembered when it happened, people who only know the story because of the music the events inspired, and people who realized they only knew the music of the three legends because a popular musician had covered one of their hit singles.
As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, it is not uncommon for people to hear one of these stories and realize they knew the big picture, but not all of the details. What happens, however, when you realize that for all the details that you know, there’s a missing piece of history that no one ever mentioned?
“‘Follis was a natural hitter and he had an ease about him and a confident smile that always seemed to worry opposing pitchers,’ one report said. ‘As a football player and as a baseball player he gained the respect of his associates and opponents as well by his clean tactics and his gameness,’ said another.”
– quoted from “Charles Follis” by Milt Roberts (originally in Black Sports, Nov. 1975), reproduced in THE COFFIN CORNER: Vol. 2, No. 1 (1980)
Charles W. Follis was born February 3, 1879, in Cloverdale, Virginia. One of nine children born to Catherine Matilda Anderson Follis and James Henry Follis, who worked on a farm, Charles had fours sisters and four brothers (one of whom died from an football-related injury when he was about 19 years old). In 1885, the family moved to Wooster, Ohio, and the eldest Follis son started attending Wooster High School, where he helped establish a football team (on which his brothers would also eventually play). With Charles Follis as it’s captain and lead player, the mostly-white Wooster High School football team was unbeatable and, for the first year of it’s existence, no one could even score against them.
When he graduated from high school, in 1901, Charles Follis enrolled at the University of Wooster (now known as the College of Wooster), a private liberal arts college founded by the Presbyterian Church. While he ended up playing baseball for his university team, he decided to play football with the Wooster Athletic Association. It was while playing football that Charles Follis earned the nickname “The Black Cyclone.” He also earned a reputation an amazingly formidable competitor. He was so good, in fact, that after he played against the all-white Shelby Blues (part of the “Ohio League” that competed for the Ohio Independent Championship (OIC) and would evolve into the National Football League (NFL)), the manager of the Shelby Blues convinced Charles Follis to sign a contract – making Charles “The Black Cyclone” Follis the first African American to play professional football on an integrated team. Frank C. Schiffer, the manager of the Shelby Blues, also got Mr. Follis a job at a hardware store that would accommodate his practice and playing schedule.
About a year after the Shelby Blues signed Charles Follis as a halfback, a young student from Ohio Wesleyan University started playing for pay. That student has a name that will forever be enshrined in sports history and even in the minds of lay sports historians: Branch Rickey.
“Rickey later said: ‘I may not be able to do something about racism in every field, but I can sure do something about it in baseball.’”
– quoted from the “Sports Heroes Who Served: WWI Soldier Helped Desegregate Baseball” by David Vergun, DOD News (dated July 7, 2020, U. S. Department of Defense website)
Charles Follis and Branch Rickey not only played football together as Shelby Blues, they also play against each other when Mr. Rickey coached the Ohio Wesleyan University football team. So, Branch Rickey had a front row seat to witness the athletic ability of Charles Follis as well as the way “The Black Cyclone” handled the adversity of dealing with racism on and off the field. That racism not only caused Mr. Follis to be isolated and separated from team functions – even in his hometown of Wooster – it also lead to insults and (actually, physical) injuries during the games. One of those injuries, or the culmination of those injuries, ended Charles Follis’s football career.
However, Charles Follis wasn’t finished with sports and football wasn’t the only place where ran into Branch Rickey. The two athletes also found themselves in direct competition when they started playing as catchers for Ohio college baseball teams. Even though they were rivals, they seemed to share mutual respect and friendship with each other. Charles Follis became the first African American catcher to move from the college leagues to the Negro League. Meanwhile, Branch Rickey coached college baseball at Ohio Wesleyan – where he coached another African American catcher, Charles Thomas – and then signed a contract with the Terre Haute Hottentots of the Class B Central League, making his professional Major League Baseball (MLB) debut on June 20, 1903.
“In a 1975 Akron Beacon Journal story, the late John M. Smith of Shelby was interviewed a year before his death. As a teenager, Smith watched Follis star for the Shelby Blues.
‘Could he run?’ Smith asked incredulously, ‘Lord almighty! The man was the best I’ve ever seen. Could he run!’”
– quoted from the Akron Beacon Journal clip posted on the Charles Follis Foundation website
In 1905, Charles Follis was fast becoming the superstar of the Cuban Giants, the first fully salaried African American professional baseball team. He was an all-around all star who stole bases, made double and triple plays, and was known as a power hitter as well as one of the most popular and well-liked players on the team. He made headlines during every game and forced other teams to pull out all the stops in an effort to best him. A rival team from Elyria, Ohio, thought they could beat biggest “giant” by bringing in a ringer: Herbert “Buttons” Briggs, a former Chicago Cubs pitcher. On May 16, 1906, the MLB pitcher faced the “cyclone”… and lost, big time. As the first batter, in the first inning, against the first pitch, Charles Follis hit a home run. He literally hit it out of the park and would end the game four-for-six against the pitcher who had previously won 20 games in one MLB season.
Within a few years of that 1906 season opener, three of the biggest names on the field that day had all passed away at young ages: John Bright, the Cuban Giants pitcher died in 1909 or 1908; Herbert Theodore “Buttons” Briggs caught pneumonia in 1910 and died of tuberculosis in 1911; Charles Follis caught pneumonia during a game in 1910 and died April 5, 1910.
“The [old-timers] in Wooster, Shelby, and Cleveland still talk about him today… but historians forget him… young sports fans probably never heard of him before. In Wooster [Cemetery], a thin, weathered headstone, slightly tilted by the winds and snow of more than 65 years, marks his final resting place. Today it is viewed as a local historical site.”
– quoted from “Charles Follis” by Milt Roberts (originally in Black Sports, Nov. 1975), reproduced in THE COFFIN CORNER: Vol. 2, No. 1 (1980)
Around the same time Charles Follis was besting MLB players, his college teammate and rival was moving up to the majors. The only problem was that Branch Rickey’s stats were lacking. Two years into his contract, the St. Louis Browns (formerly the Wisconsin Brewers) became the New York Highlanders (later the New York Yankees). On June 28, 1907, Mr. Rickey, the backup catcher, was forced to play a game while injured. It was a disaster. He couldn’t throw, he struck out three times, and the opposing team (the Washington Senators) stole a whopping 13 bases. Not surprisingly, that was his one and only season with the Highlanders.
Branch Rickey would go back to coaching college football, make another go as a baseball player (1914) and as a baseball manager with the reconstructed St. Louis Browns (1913–1915, 1919). Then, after serving in the United States Army during World War I and spending that final year in the front office of the St. Louis Browns, he became General Manager of the St. Louis Cardinals (which had been the St. Louis Browns née St. Louis Brown Stockings, before the Brewers used the name). The MLB catcher some described as lackluster, excelled as a manager. He was an innovator, especially when dealing with conflict and controversy. He became General Manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1943 and immediately started laying groundwork for some groundbreaking.
Even though he would later talk about his experiences as a coach of a Black player and as a member of the military (before the U. S. military integrated), what many people may not know is that, before that, he had a rival, a teammate, a peer, a friend – someone he admired: a man named Charles W. Follis, a man who just happened to be Black.
“On October 17, 1903, Rickey felt the ‘Black Cyclone’s’ full power when he ran their ends dizzy for 20, 25, 35 and 70 yard gains, the last being a touchdown. After that game Rickey praised Follis, calling him ‘a wonder.’ It was the power of his example, his character, and his grace that convinced Rickey, that color could not belie his greatness. The rest is history….”
– quoted from the “Background” section of the Charles Follis Foundation website
PRACTICE NOTES: I actually have several baseball-related sequences and themes in my notebooks. They range from (sort of) silly to (very) serious, from meditative Restorative and Yin Yoga to “slow flow” and vigorous vinyasas. Philosophically, what the all have in common is a focus on teamwork, on doing one’s best and then letting go, and on an awareness of what happens when we become part of something bigger than our individual selves. Physically, what they all have in common is asymmetrically, unilateral poses with special awareness of the feet, hips, core/midsection, and shoulder girdle.
Of course, we can’t have a practice about baseball without a seventh-inning stretch and the wave.
### “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” ~ Jack Norworth and Albert Von Tilzer ###
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted in January 2021 and re-posted in 2022.I have made some slight revisions and updated some links and class details.
“Consider the subtleness of the sea; how its most dreaded creatures glide under water, unapparent for the most part, and treacherously hidden beneath the loveliest tints of azure. Consider also the devilish brilliance and beauty of many of its most remorseless tribes, as the dainty embellished shape of many species of sharks. Consider, once more, the universal cannibalism of the sea; all whose creatures prey upon each other, carrying on eternal war since the world began.
Consider all this; and then turn to the green, gentle, and most docile earth; consider them both, the sea and the land; and do you not find a strange analogy to something in yourself? For as this appalling ocean surrounds the verdant land, so in the soul of man there lies one insular Tahiti, full of peace and joy, but encompassed by all the horrors of the half-known life. God keep thee! Push not off from that isle, thou canst never return!”
– quoted from “Chapter LVIII. Brit” in Moby Dick, or The Whale by Herman Melville
On more than one occasion, I have compared breathing to our “own personal ocean.” I even once honored one of my teachers by sharing that at the end of her classes people felt like there were floating on a surfboard after a spending a whole day riding the waves; muscles completely relaxed, the mind-body completely one with the rising and falling of the waves as they ebb and flow. Those are just my words to express very common experiences. And, before you ask; no, I don’t actually surf. I have, however, spent all day, for several days, learning how to sail and much of my young life playing and swimming in the ocean water of the Gulf. I also read a lot. And, the way the brain works, it’s not uncommon for me to make the visceral connection between something I’ve done and something I’ve read.
It happens with the very best of books: we find ourselves in the middle of a grand adventure, full of pirates, mutineers, and cannibals, or elves, dwarfs, and hobbits. There may be dragons to slay, train, or befriend; there may be fire on the mountaintop; there may be rings of temptation or friendship; there may be wagers in the middle of battles and so much merriment we can barely contain the laughter that pops out loudly enough that we find ourselves, suddenly, back in the our ordinary lives.
“Certainly it reminds me very much of Bilbo in the last years, before he went away. He used often to say there was only one Road; that it was like a great river: its springs were at every doorstep, and every path was its tributary. ‘It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door,’ he used to say. ‘You step into the Road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to. Do you realize that this is the very path that goes through Mirkwood, and that if you let it, it might take you to the Lonely Mountain or even further and to worse places?’ He used to say that on the path outside the front door at Bag End, especially after he had been out for a long walk.’”
– Frodo reminiscing with Sam and Pippin in “Book 1, Chapter 3: Three is Company” in The Fellowship of the Ring (Volume 1 of the Lord of the Rings) by J. R. R. Tolkien
The thing we sometimes forget is that our ordinary lives can not only lead us to great adventures, they can themselves be great adventures. We may not, as a young Herman Melville did when he set sail for the South Seas today in 1841, find ourselves actually taking part in a mutiny; landing in a Tahitian jail; escaping from that same jail; and then wandering around the island for two years before serendipitously befriending another great literary mind. We may not, as J. R. R. Tolkien was today in 1892, be born into a family of clock, watch, and piano makers; have an Aunt Jane who lived on a farm called Bag End (with no reference to us); and have cousins named Mary and Marjorie who made up a language called “Animalic” (inspiring us to make up our own languages); nor might we spend our adulthood in close friendships with some of the greatest literary minds of our time; and neither might we share those friendships with our son. Still, just as Melville and Tolkien did, we could write about our own lives and life experiences in a way that (sometimes) entertained and amused others. I say “sometimes,” because both authors produced work that has had mixed reviews.
While Melville’s first two sea-based novels met with quite a bit of success, his third book was so poorly received he said that he wrote the fourth and fifth just for the money. His sixth novel, Moby Dick, or The Whale, was first published in London in three installments and is now easily considered his most famous novel, but it was a critical flop when first published. On the flip side, Tolkien was surprised that his first book of fiction, The Hobbit, Or There and Back Again, turned out to be such a hit… with children – and was later surprised that he and his work inspired a very passionate, loyal, and scholastic fan base. Even though his books were heavily influenced by his Catholic upbringing, his experiences at war, and his fascination with all things mythical and mystical, he was not always a fan of other work in the “fantasy adventure” genre and thought people read way too much into his books.
“Call me Ishmael”
– quoted from “Chapter I. Loomings” in Moby Dick, or The Whale by Herman Melville
“‘Nobody else calls us hobbits; we call ourselves that,’ said Pippin….
‘I’ll call you Merry and Pippin, if you please – nice names. For I am not going to tell you my name, not yet at any rate.’ A queer half-knowing, half-humorous look came with a green flicker into his eyes. ‘For one thing it would take a long while: my name is growing all the time, and I’ve lived a very long, long time; so my name is like a story. Real names tell you the story of things they belong to in my language, in the Old Entish as you might say. It is a lovely language, but it takes a very long time saying anything in it, because we do not say anything in it, unless it is worth taking a long time to say, and to listen to.’”
– Pippin and Merry meeting “Treebeard” in “Book 4, Chapter 4: Treebeard” in The Two Towers (Volume 2 of the Lord of the Rings) by J. R. R. Tolkien
Remember that, in the yoga tradition, our ability to combine meaning with sound, remember and share the combination, and create and share a visual representation of the combination of sound and meaning all fall into one of the “powers unique to humans;” and, as I mentioned yesterday, the brain likes naming things. So, there is great power in a name. J. R. R. Tolkien was very clear about this on more than one occasion in his books and the idea of words being powerful is further emphasized by the fact that he made up languages to solidify the cultures of the different characters he created. Herman Melville, on the other hand, started off his most well-known novel with the introduction and naming of a character that plays a major role in the telling of the story, but a minor one in the action.
The opening line to Moby Dick, or The Whale is easily in the top 5 most well-known (and quoted) opening lines of fiction. It is extra interesting when we consider the name (Ishmael) as it is connected to the Abrahamic religions. First, the name is often associated with people of little means and few (blood) relational ties – and Melville’s narrator explains that he was both, at the time of the story, “having little or no money in my purse and nothing particular to interest me on shore[.]” Second, the name itself can be translated into English as “God has hearkened” – meaning “God (has) listened.” Which begs the question, how can we (mere mortals) not listen?
“‘I wish it need not have happened in my time,’ said Frodo.
‘So do I,’ said Gandalf, ‘and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given, us. And already, Frodo, our time is beginning to look black. The Enemy is fast becoming very strong. His plans are far from ripe, I think, but they are ripening. We shall be hard put to it. We should be very hard put to it, even if it were not for this dreadful chance.’”
– quoted from “Book 1, Chapter 2: The Shadow of the Past” in The Fellowship of the Ring (Volume 1 of the Lord of the Rings) by J. R. R. Tolkien
“I try all things; I achieve what I can.”
– quoted from “Chapter LXXIX. The Prairie” in Moby Dick, or The Whale by Herman Melville
In a normal year (depending on which study you read and the time period studied), only about 20% – 40% of people who make New Year’s resolutions actually achieve their desired goals. I know that’s a big gap, but either way you look at it over half of people who make resolutions don’t follow through. There are all kinds of explanations for this, and all kinds of “life hacks” to improve your odds, but ultimately it all comes down to little things. Little things and baby steps can make a big difference. They keep us focused on our intentions and they keep us progressing on the right track – even when there’s a detour. Little things and baby steps even help us appreciate the detour that is actually the scenic route. As we leave a year that was hard for just about everyone – and figure out a way to look forward to what’s to come – I wouldn’t be surprised if the odds are stacked against us.
Daunting thought I know. But, as Tolkien reminds us (in The Hobbit, Or There and Back Again), “It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him.” So, think for a moment about the fact that something as small and powerful as a word, or a name, can change the odds in your favor. Now ask yourself: What name would you choose for yourself to indicate how you want to move through this New Year? What’s you symbol, what’s your sign, for this new beginning? What will be your own personal reminder throughout the year and thus, at the end of the year, part of your story?
“I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I’ll go to it laughing.”
– quoted from “Chapter XXXIX. First Night-Watch: Fore-Top (Stubb solus, and mending a brace)” in Moby Dick, or The Whale by Herman Melville
“‘No!” said Thorin. ‘There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell!’”
– quoted from “Chapter XVIII: The Return” in The Hobbit, Or There and Back Again by J. R. R. Tolkien
Even though many, maybe most, are still struggling with all those we’ve lost and everything we experienced, these last few years have reinforced the value of friendship, fellowship, kinship and a good laugh shared at the expense of no one. They have also made people reevaluate their values – although, again, this is one with which some are still struggling. But, no matter where you are in your journey, I encourage you to never underestimate the power of being nice, smiling, and eating a second dinner (and then dancing or walking it off, you know, Hobbit style).
Keeping that in mind, I just want to say, for the record, that I have not forgotten about those of y’all who are counting the “Days of Christmas.” To catch up, today is the 9th or 10th day (depending on when you start counting). According to the catechism myth attached to the “12 Days of Christmas” song, the gifts for these days translates to: “a partridge in a pear tree” for Jesus (and the cross); “two turtle doves” representing the Old and New Testament; “three French Hens” for the theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity (Love); “four calling birds” for the four canonical New Testament Gospels (or their corresponding evangelicals, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John); “five gold rings” are the first Five Books of the Hebrew Bible and the Christian Old Testament (which provide the back story for the three Abrahamic religions); “six geese a-laying” for the six days of creation; “seven swans a-swimming,” the consistently most expensive gift, stand for the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit (wisdom, understanding, knowledge, counsel, fortitude, piety, and fear of the Lord) or the seven sacraments (Baptism, Eucharist, Confirmation, Reconciliation, Anointing of the Six, Marriage, and Ordination); “eight maids a-milking” for the eight beatitudes (or blessings); “nine ladies dancing” for the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit; and “ten lords a-leaping” for the ten commandments.
Note, again, that there are different versions of the list and the last four or five days worth of gifts deviate the most (in type of gift and order) from one version to another – which might be the cause of the effect of people getting all mixed up. In fact, The Journal of American Folk-lore, Volume XXX, No. CXVII (published July-September 1917, edited by Franz Boas), features an article on “Ballads and Songs” (edited by G. L. Kittredge) specifically listing a wide variety of versions that include (but are not limited to): “some part of a juniper tree;” “a-bleating lambs;” “a-bleating rams;” “fiddlers fiddling;” “bulls a-roaring;” “stags a-leaping;” “silver florins;” “golden pippins;” “hounds a-howling” – and a 78-year old singer from Massachusetts who, according to assistant editor Kittredge, forgot the eighth day gift on December 30, 1877.
“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.”
– The Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Galatians (2:22 – 5:23, NIV)
Please join me today (Tuesday, January 3rd) at 12:00 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules”calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment belowor (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “01032021 Melville Sails Tolkien Beginnings”]
“It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off – then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship.”
– quoted from “Chapter I. Loomings” in Moby Dick, or The Whale by Herman Melville
“Not all those who wander are lost.”
– quoted from a letter dated “Midyear’s Day, Shire Year 1418” from Gandalf to Frodo, delivered by Strider/Aragon/Elessar in “Book 1, Chapter 10: Strider” in The Fellowship of the Ring (Volume 1 of the Lord of the Rings) by J. R. R. Tolkien
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted November 29, 2020. Class details and links have been updated.
“Surprised by joy — impatient as the Wind I turned to share the transport — Oh! with whom But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find? Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind — But how could I forget thee? Through what power, Even for the least division of an hour, Have I been so beguiled as to be blind To my most grievous loss? —”
– quoted from the poem, “Surprised by Joy – Impatient As The Wind” by William Wordsworth (written in memory of his daughter)
If you’re anything like me, when you think of C. S. Lewis, born today in 1898, you think of Narnia and Aslan, and Christian allegories sometimes disguised as fantasy and children’s books. Like me, you might express a little confusion over why Mr. Lewis himself said the Chronicles of Narnia were not “allegories” and you might absolutely love The Screwtape Letters even though (or maybe because) it is super dark and written so well that it almost always feels as if no one will win and “The Patient” – as well as the demons – will be condemned to everlasting turmoil. Regardless of how he defined his work, you might recognize Mr. Lewis and his writing as falling under the heading of Christian apologetics. However, if – like me – you’ve read more C. S. Lewis than you’ve studied, you might be surprised by the author’s multi-layered relationship with “Joy.”
Christian apologetics is a category of study and theology focused on the defense of Christianity. It has its foundations in Torah study and Greek philosophical discourse, but there is a long list of New Testament Biblical references to the need for “a verbal defense” of belief. One of the best examples comes from The First Epistle General of Peter.
“But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. ‘Do not fear their threats; do not be frightened.’ But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect….”
– 1 Epistle General of Peter (3:14 – 15, NIV)
Unlike the epistles, or letters, attributed to Saint Paul and titled to reference specific Church communities (e.g. in Corinth, Galatia, Colossae, etc.), the letters attributed to Saint Peter are more generically addressed to “strangers” in a variety of areas (in 1st Peter) and “to them that have obtained like precious faith with us through the righteousness of God and our Saviour Jesus Christ” (in 2nd Peter, KJV). The meaning of “strangers” is debatable, but what is consistent in the letters, and in modern understanding of the letters, is that the letter are addressed to people who were subject to persecution (because of their faith), people who might have been tempted to give up their faith because of the persecution, and who – despite the persecution – experienced a faith-related longing. This longing, which Saint Peter described as “hope,” C. S. Lewis defined as “Joy.”
“The reader who finds these three episodes of no interest need read this book no further, for in a sense the central theme of my life is about nothing else. For those who are still disposed to proceed I will only underline the quality common to the three experiences; it is that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction. I call it Joy, which is here a technical term and must be sharply distinguished both from Happiness and Pleasure. Joy (in my sense) has indeed one characteristic, and one only, in common with them; the fact that anyone who has experienced it will want it again. Apart from that, and considered only in its quality, it might almost equally well be called a particular kind of unhappiness or grief. But then it is a kind we want. I doubt whether anyone who has tasted it would ever, if both were in his power, exchange it for all the pleasures in the world. But then Joy is never in our power and pleasure often is.”
– quoted from Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life by C. S. Lewis
Clive Staples Lewis was the Belfast-born youngest son of Albert James Lewis (a solicitor) and Florence “Flora” Augusta Lewis, who could be considered Irish royalty. Flora’s father was an Anglican priest; one of her great-grandfathers was Bishop Hugh Hamilton; and another of her great-grandfathers was the Right Honourable John Staples, who served as an Irish Member of Parliament for 37 years and was a descendant of titled persons in Northern Ireland. Naturally, C. S. – later known as “Jacksie” and then “Jack” – was baptized in the (Anglican) Church of Ireland, which is the second-largest church in Ireland (after the Roman Catholic Church) and identifies itself as both Catholic and Reformed. All that is to say that, he and his older brother Warren “Warnie” Hamilton Lewis were raised in a very structured, family-embedded tradition of faith.
Somewhere along the way, for a variety of reasons – and based on a variety of experiences – both brothers fell away from the Church and away from their family’s traditional beliefs.
While “Warnie,” the elder brother, finished his schooling and went on to serve 18 years in the military, the younger Lewis brother was drafted, sent to the front line on his 19th birthday, was wounded and traumatized by the death of his friends, and was sent home within a year. Once he physically recovered, “Jack” (whose nickname came from a beloved pet) went back to England to finish his studies.
Previously, at around age 15, “Jack” became interested in the occult and began to actively and publicly define himself as an atheist. As such, he spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about God, explaining why God didn’t exist, and surrounding himself with like-minded people and things. The problem was that when he returned to Oxford and started paying attention to his experiences (and the way he felt as he read, wrote, and interacted with people), he found he was being (spiritually and emotionally) sustained and nurtured by things and people who were theistic as opposed to atheistic. And the more he delved into his embodied experience, rather than just his analytical experience, the more he realized… there was something more.
“But soon (I cannot say how soon) nature ceased to be a mere reminder of the books, became herself the medium of the real joy. I do not say she ceased to be a reminder. All Joy reminds. It is never a possession, always a desire for something longer ago or further away or still ‘about to be’. But Nature and the books now became equal reminders, joint reminders, of – well, of whatever it is. I came no nearer to what some would regard as the only genuine love of nature, the studious love which will make a man a botanist or an ornithologist. It was the mood of a scene that mattered to me; and in tasting that mood my skin and nose were as busy as my eyes”
– quoted from Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life by C. S. Lewis
At around the same time, 1931, both brothers reclaimed their Christian roots and deepened their brotherly bond. They had been living together in Oxford for about a year, went on walking tours together, and participated in the weekly Thursday night “Inkling” meetings – which featured works-in-progress of the various members who were and would become literary giants in the English language. The “Inklings” – who were all white, Christian men of Oxford – included in their number the Lewis brothers, their close friend J. R. R. Tolkien (and his son Christopher, who were both raised Catholic), Charles Williams (a devout member of the [Anglican] Church of England), Henry Victor “Hugo” Dyson Dyson (a lecturer and literary collector known as H. V. D. Dyson, who was instrumental in C. S. Lewis’s return to Christianity), and Arthur Owen Barfield (“the first and last Inkling,” whose anthroposophical beliefs in a spiritual world accessed through human experience heavily influenced all the other Inklings).
C. S. Lewis’s spiritual memoir, Surprised by Joy, concludes in 1931, but wasn’t published until 1955. In the interim (around 1950), he started corresponding with a Jewish American poet (in the United States) who was estranged from her abusive husband. This woman – a child prodigy, an atheist, and former Communist, whose husband (also an author) may have introduced her to C. S. Lewis’s work – started the transatlantic correspondence because she had faith-related questions. Intrigued, and ultimately attracted, to each other’s intellect, the correspondence became more personal than theological. She frequently referenced him to others and once wrote, “Just got a letter from Lewis in the mail. I think I told you I’d raised an argument or two on some points? Lord, he knocked my props out from under me unerringly; one shot to a pigeon. I haven’t a scrap of my case left. And, what’s more, I’ve seldom enjoyed anything more. Being disposed of so neatly by a master of debate, all fair and square – it seems to be one of the great pleasures of life, though I’d never have suspected it in my arrogant youth. I suppose it’s unfair tricks of argument that leave wounds. But after the sort of thing that Lewis does, what I feel is a craftsman’s joy at the sight of a superior performance.”
The poet officially divorced her husband, converted to Christianity, and moved with her two school-aged sons to England to be with “Jack.” In April of 1956, several years after her arrival (in 1953), the couple entered into a “civil marriage” so that she and her children could stay in England. It was described as a marriage of friendship and convenience. However, when his wife was diagnosed with cancer (in October of 1956), C. S. Lewis realized he not only admired her, he loved her. He was 58 years old and surprised by Joy* – as his beloved wife was Helen Joy Davidman.
(*NOTE: C. S. Lewis was teased by his friends, but said that the title and intention of the book Surprised by Joy had nothing to do with his wife being Joy. So, you can take the overlap as serendipity… or God winking.)
“Total surrender is the first step towards the fruition of either. Shut your mouth; open your eyes and ears. Take in what is there and give no thought to what might have been or what is somewhere else. That can come later, if it must come at all. (And notice how the true training for anything whatever that is good always prefigures and, if submitted to, will always help us in the true training for the Christian life. That is a school where they can always use your previous work whatever the subject it was on.)”
– quoted from Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life by C. S. Lewis
Yoga Sūtra 1.23: īśvarapraņidhānādvā
– “[A perfectly still, pristine state of mind] comes from a special process of devotion and letting go into Ishvara [the Divine], the creative source from which we emerged.”
Yoga Sūtra 2.45: samādhisiddhirīśvarapraņidhānāt
– “From trustful surrender to Ishvara [the Divine], [a perfectly still, pristine state of mind] comes.”
“‘To work without desire may seem impossible, but the way to do it is to substitute thoughts of Divinity for thoughts of desire. Do your work in this world with your heart fixed on the Divine instead of on outcomes. Do not worry about results. Be even tempered in success or failure. This mental evenness is what is mean by yoga…. Indeed, equanimity is yoga!’” (2.48)
“‘Those who see Me in everything and everything in Me, know the staggering truth that the Self in the individual is the Self in all. As they live in constant spiritual awareness, I am never out of their sight or lost to them – nor are they every out of My sight or lost to Me. ’” (6.30)
– Krishna speaking to Arjuna in The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners by Jack Hawley
Please join me today (Tuesday, November 29th) at 12:00 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules”calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment belowor (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “11292020 Jack’s Surprising Joy”]
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
“Your remarks about music would seem to lead back to my old idea about a face being always a true index of character… not of course exactly, but its general tone. What type of person is this girl of whom Debussy has been talking to you? As to your other suggestions about old composers like Schubert or Beethoven, I imagine that, while modern music expresses both feeling, thought and imagination, they expressed pure feeling. And you know all day sitting at work, eating, walking, etc., you have hundreds of feelings that can’t (as you say) be put into words or even into thought, but which could naturally come out in music. And that is why I think that in a sense music is the highest of the arts, because it really begins where the others leave off.”
– quoted from a letter addressed to his childhood friend Arthur Greeves (who he called “after my brother, my oldest and most intimate friend”), written by C. S. “Jack” Lewis, dated 20 June 1916
“It was this that forced me to write. I longed to make things, ships, houses, engines. Many sheets of cardboard and pairs of scissors I spoiled, only to turn from my hopeless failures in tears. As a last resource, as a pis aller, I was driven to write stories instead. You can do more with a castle in a story than with the best cardboard castle that ever stood on a nursery table.”
– quoted from Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life by C. S. Lewis
### TASTE JOY (But don’t get it twisted and confuse “lower” pleasure with the “higher”)! ###
“‘People who eat too much or too little or who sleep too much or too little will not succeed in meditation. Eat only food that does not heat up the body or excite the mind. When you balance and regulate your habits of eating, sleeping, working, and playing, then meditation dissolves sorrow and destroys mental pain.’”
.
– Krishna speaking to Arjuna (6.16 – 6.17) in The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners by Jack Hawley
Please join me today (Wednesday, Movember 16th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom.Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment belowor (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [“Look for Movember 3rd 2020”]
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
NOTE: In anticipation of the holiday(s), I have cancelled classes on November 23rd – 27th. Don’t forget to be grateful.
This is the “missing” post for Sunday, November 11th.Some passages were previously posted. You can request an audio recording of the practice via a comment belowor (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
“If her functioning as a female is not enough to define woman, if we decline also to explain her through ‘the eternal feminine’, and if nevertheless we admit, provisionally, that women do exist, then we must face the question ‘what is a woman’?
To state the question is, to me, to suggest, at once, a preliminary answer. The fact that I ask it is in itself significant. A man would never set out to write a book on the peculiar situation of the human male. But if I wish to define myself, I must first of all say: ‘I am a woman’; on this truth must be based all further discussion. A man never begins by presenting himself as an individual of a certain sex; it goes without saying that he is a man. The terms masculine and feminine are used symmetrically only as a matter of form, as on legal papers. In actuality the relation of the two sexes is not quite like that of two electrical poles, for man represents both the positive and the neutral, as is indicated by the common use of man to designate human beings in general; whereas woman represents only the negative, defined by limiting criteria, without reciprocity. In the midst of an abstract discussion it is vexing to hear a man say: ‘You think thus and so because you are a woman’; but I know that my only defence [sic] is to reply: ‘I think thus and so because it is true,’ thereby removing my subjective self from the argument. It would be out of the question to reply: ‘And you think the contrary because you are a man’, for it is understood that the fact of being a man is no peculiarity.”
– quoted from “Introduction: Woman as Other” in The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir
Almost every January, I ask the question “What is a woman?” Then, at various times throughtout the year, I offer different lives and perspectives that could be considered as answers. But, whenever I address the issue, I recognize that the “controversial” question Simone de Beauvoir posed in 1949, is no less controversial today. In fact, it can seem more controversial today, because it is often used as a “gotcha” question asked by people who have vastly different intentions than Simone de Beauvoir. Remember, she was asking and addressing the question for philosophical insight. And, here I am doing the same.
I know, I know, I’m just asking for trouble here, but please consider a couple of things before moving forward. First, as I just mentioned, this is not the first time – in class or on the blog – that I’ve referenced what it means to be a woman. Second, I’m referencing it here in relation to Patanjali’s Yoga Sūtras. Specifically, I’m referencing the meaning of the word “woman” – or “women,” “wimmin,” “womyn,” “womban,” “womon,” and “womxn” – in relation to Yoga Sūtra 3.17, which indicates that “By making samyama on the sound of a word, one’s perception of its meaning, and one’s reaction to it – three things which are ordinarily confused – one obtains understanding of all sounds uttered by living beings.” [NOTE: “one’s reaction to it” is sometimes translated as “knowledge of it.”]
I absolutely could use a less “controversial” word – as other teachers do. I’ve heard a teacher reference a pencil and another teacher (Vyasa, perhaps) used a cow. In class, I actually cited Swami J, of the Himalayan tradition, who used the example of a table in his commentary on the sūtras. Those are all great examples, simple examples; because, if you know English (assuming you are reading this text in it’s original language), the sight/sound of each of those words is associated with specific objects, which immediately come to mind. If you don’t know a word, it is meaningless to you. Nothing comes to mind or you think of something that feels off, not quite right. But, you don’t know the word, so you need more information.
On the flip side, you can know the word and still need more information, because your perception of what I mean may not be the same as mine. We may not have the same object(s) in mind. However, by using our supernormal power of words, we can come to an agreement about the qualities that make up the concept that exists in the world (i.e., the pencil-ness, cow-ness, and/or table-ness of the thing). In other words, we can go deeper into our understanding of what makes something what we perceive/understand it to be.
While it seems like people have been going deeper into our understanding of what it means to be a woman since the dawn of time (or, at the very least, since recorded history), there’s always the possibility — not to mention the fear — that someone will completely miss the point.
“The moment we begin to fear the opinions of others and hesitate to tell the truth that is in us, and from motives of policy are silent when we should speak, the divine floods of light and life no longer flow in our souls. Every truth we see is ours to give the world, not to keep to oursleves along, for in so doing we cheat humanity out of their rights and check our own development.”
– quoted from Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s speech at the National American Woman Suffrage Association convention (and birthday celebration for Susan B. Anthony), February 18, 1890
If we just stick with modern (Western) history, the question of what it means to be a woman is a question that contains multitudes. For instance, when we talk about Miss Maria Mitchell and Rabbi Regina Jonas, the question becomes about their vocations. In a conversation about Simone de Beauvoir, Virginia Woolf, and Mary Oliver, the question becomes about upbringing and sex(uality). For Edna St. Vincent Millay and Zitkála-Šá, as well as for Gwendolyn Brooks, Louise Erdrich, Nikki Giovanni, and so many others, the question becomes about culture, race, and behavior (including sex and sexuality). Then the conversation turns to health and well-being, especially mental health, when we focus on Bertha Pappenheim (“Anna O”). We can easily pickup all of those threads if we are discussion Lorraine Hansberry, Maya Angelou, or Ntozake Shange, because their lives prove that the question of what it means to be a woman is always about all of those things – and also about rights and responsibilities. We can start our conversation about what the word means, to us and to others, at any one of those intersecting points. However, since Saturday was the anniversary of the birth of Elizabeth Cady Stanton, let’s start with the issue of rights and responsibilities.
Born November 12, 1815, in Johnstown, New York, Elizabeth Cady Stanton was a social activist, abolitionist, and suffragist. While she was one of the most influential leaders of the women’s rights movement, she does not fit the stereotypical image of a “women’s liber” or a “man-hating feminist.” She was, for example, no Susan B. Anthony. However, one could argue that there would have been no Susan B. Anthony — as she is remembered today — without Elizabeth Cady Stanton. While their backgrounds and life choices were different, they were united in their quest for equal rights.
“If I were to draw up a set of rules for the guidance of reformers, such as Franklin and other celebrities tell us they did for their own use, I should put at the head of the list: Do all you can, no matter what, to get people to think on your reform, and then, if your reform is good, it will come about in due season.”
– quoted from a diary entry dated “Cleveland, August 20 [1888]” by Elizabeth Cady Stanton (as published in Elizabeth Cady Stanton As Revealed in Her Letterz, Diary and Reminiscences, Edited by Theodore Stanton and Harriot Stanton Blatch, Volume Two])
Elizabeth Cady grew up in a wealthy family with a conservative lawyer for a father (Daniel Cady) and and a very progressive abolitionist mother (Margaret Livingston Cady). Some biographers say that the Cady family had servants, at least three of whom were African American. At least one of those “servants” (Peter Teabout) was actually enslaved and it was in his company that she and her sisters sometimes attended church.
It seems that it was just her and her sisters that sat in the back pews of the church. While she was the seventh of eleven children, six of her siblings, including all of her brothers, died before reaching adulthood. Her last brother died when she was around ten and she responded to her parents’ grief by stating that she would live the lives her brothers would not get a chance to live. Her father’s response, that he wished she were a boy, was the first time she felt there was a difference between her sisters and her brothers.
Despite the perceived difference between the siblings, Elizabeth Cady was well-educated — for a girl of her time — and received high marks and recognition in her advanced classes. She even convinced her father to send her to Troy Female Seminary, where she became actively interested in the abolitionist movement. It was through the seminary and the abolitionis movement that she and befriended Frederick Douglass. It was also the way she met her greatest collaborators in life: Henry Brewster Stanton and Susan B. Anthony.
“This can already be seen in the different reception given a new citizen of the world. If the father or someone else asked what ‘it’ was after a successful birth, the answer might be either the satisfied report of a boy, or—with pronounced sympathy for the disappointment— ‘Nothing, a girl,’ or ‘Only a girl.’”
– Bertha Pappenheim (b. 02/27/1859) as quoted in The Jewish Woman: New Perspectives, edited by Elizabeth Koultun
“One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman.”
– quoted from “Part IV – The Formative Years: Chapter XII. Childhood” in The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir (b. 01/09/1908)
Elizabeth Cady and Henrey Brewster Stanton met at the home of her first cousin, Gerrit Smith (son of her maternal aunt), who was a member of the United States House of Representatives and one of the “Secret Six,” who funded John Brown’s 1859 raid on Harper’s Ferry, which initiated the revolt that was a prelude to the Civil War. At the time that they met, Henry Brewster Stanton was an attorny, abolitionist, and social reformer, who would go on to become a journalist and politician. Some say his support of the suffragist movement was tangential, but no one can argue that it was instrumental. It was instrumental on many levels, including the fact that he unconditionally supported his wife.
When they married in 1840, the couple omitted the word “obey” from their vows — which was a common Quaker tradition, although neither of them were Quakers. Elizabeth Cady took her husband’s surname, but she was never known simply as “Mrs. Henry B. Stanton;” she was always, in some way, recognized as “Cady Stanton.” But the exclusion or inclusion of a single word, did not diminish the couples union. Nor did it diminish her role in the household.
“First, no woman should say, ‘I am but a woman!’ But a woman! What more can you ask to be? Born a woman — born with the average brain of humanity — born with more than the average heart — if you are mortal, what higher destiny could you have? No matter where you are nor what you are, you are power.”
– quoted from Maria Mitchell: Life, Letters, and Journals by Maria Mitchell (b. 08/01/1818)
Mrs. Cady Stanton was a proud wife and mother of seven. Contrary to the social norms of the time, she recognized that healthy women had similar desires as healthy men; believed women should control a couple’s sexual relationships; and proclaimed a man’s “drunkeness” as grounds for divorce (or, at the very least, abstinance). She also belived that a woman should absolutely have dominion over her body when it came to childbearing. She was equally as bold about declaring her motherhood (when others were more demure silent) and would raise a red or white flag in front of her house depending on the sex of her newborn child.
Of course, her “voluntary motherhood” required a compromise when it came to social reform and that compromise required her to be at home when her husband was away. While Henry Brewster Stanton traveled ten months out of the year in the 1850’s, Elizabeth Cady Stanton felt she was “a caged lioness.”However, her partnership with Ms. Anthony made the compromise less restrictive. Whenever the family moved, they set up a room for Susan B. Anthony and the women figured out the best way to work towards their goals:
Elizabeth Cady Stanton wrote; Susan B. Anthony organized and spoke.
“Eventually Anthony supplanted Henry in Elizabeth’s affections. Both Henry and Susan moved in and out of her life and her household, but overall, Stanton probably spent more hours and days with Anthony than any other adult.”
– quoted from the “Methodological Note: Stanton in Psychological Perspective” section of In Her Own Right: The Life of Elizabeth Cady Stanton by Elisabeth Griffith
The collaboration between Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton was not restricted to speeches. They co-founded the New York Women’s State Temperance Society – after Anthony was prevented from speaking at a temperance conference because she was female – and the Women’s Loyal National League in 1863. The league, which used different iterations of the name, was specifically formed to lobby for the abolition of slavery. At one time they collected almost 40,000 signatures in support of abolition, which was the largest petition drive in United States history at that time. They also initiated the American Equal Rights Association (1866) and founded the National Woman Suffrage Association (1869).
On January 8, 1868, Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton started publishing the weekly paper The Revolution. The paper’s motto was “Men, their rights and nothing more; Women, their rights and nothing less.”In addition to women’s rights and the suffrage movement, the paper covered general politics, the labor movement, and finance. Ms. Anthony ran the business end of things. Mrs. Cady Stanton co-edited the newspaper with the abolitionist minister Parker Pillsbury. The initially received funding from the transportation entrepreneur George Francis Train – who shared their views on women’s rights, but not on abolition – but eventually transferred control of the paper to the wealthy writer and activist Laura Curtis Bullard, who toned “the revolution” down a bit.
The ladies that started it, however, did not tone down at all.
“He has created a false public sentiment by giving to the world a different code of morals for men and women, by which moral delinquencies, which exclude women from society, are not only tolerated, but deemed of little account in man.”
– quoted from the The Declaration of Sentiments by Elizabeth Cady Stanton, with Mary Ann M’Clintock
Elizabeth Cady Stanton was actively engaged in the fight for civil rights long before meeting Susan B. Anthony. Along with Lucretia Coffin Mott and Martha Coffin Wright, she organized the Seneca Falls Convention, which was the first women’s rights convention organized by women and was the primary author of the Declaration of Sentiments. One hundred of the approximately 300 attendees to the conference signed the declaration, which Elizabeth Cady Stanton, with assistance from Mary Ann M’Clintock, had modeled after the Declaration of Independence. Mrs. Cady Stanton (and her sister, Harriet Cady Eaton), Mrs. M’Clintock (plus her daughters Elizabeth W. and Mary M’Clintock and her half-sister, Margaret Pryor), Mrs. Mott, and and Mrs. Wright were among the 68 female signers; Frederick Douglass, Thomas M’Clintock, and James Mott were among the the 32 male signers.
Frederick Douglass’s name on the Declaration of Sentiments was not an accident or random happenstance. He and Mrs. Cady Stanton met early in her crusade for universal suffrage and he was one of her staunch supporters during the Seneca Falls Convention. In fact, some historians note that it was his very vocal support that led to the acceptance of the Declaration. While his support for women’s suffrage did not wane, he, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and Susan B. Anthony (with whom he would also eventually befriend) did temporarily break away from each other when the issue of suffrage was divided over race and gender. He also called out E. Cady Stanton for using racist terms about Black and Asian men, when it looked like they might get the vote before (white) women.
That divide between the three friends is a great way to highlight the fact that the fight for voting rights has always marginalized already marginalized people. It has asked people to define themselves as one thing over the other. This, as many scholars have pointed out, is not something straight, white, Christian males in America have historically had to do. They can just be “men” and everything else is understood as a foregone conclusion.
Marginalized people, however, have had to “pick one” all the time. This was especially true in the 19th century, when the presence of Black women was desired by both sides of the suffrage movement. Yet, to deny one side of themselves meant that they could be excluded from voting; either because they were Black… or because they were a woman.
Susan B. Anthony forced this issue into the courts when she and fourteen other women attempted to vote in Rochester, New York, in 1872. She was arrested, indicted, “tried,” and convicted during the very public and very publicized 1873 criminal trial (United States v. Susan B. Anthony). The case hinged on the definition of a citizen (as it related to the 14th Amendment) and the definition of a woman. After establishing that “the defendant was, on the 5th of November, 1872, a woman,” the judge instructed the all male jury – all male because women were prohibited from serving on juries – to find the defendant guilty without discussion or deliberation, which they did. Ms. Anthony was instructed to pay a fine, of $100 plus court cases, which she did not.
It’s unclear how, exactly, they determined that she was a woman on the date in question.
“U. S. Senator Marsha Blackburn (R-TN): Can you provide a definition for the word ‘woman’?
Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson: Can I provide a definition? [Senator Blackburn confirms.] No. I can’t.
U. S. Senator Marsha Blackburn (R-TN): You can’t?
Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson: Not in this context. I’m not a biologist.
U. S. Senator Marsha Blackburn (R-TN): So, you believe the word ‘woman’ is so unclear and controversial that you can’t give me a definition?
Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson: Senator, in my work as a judge, what I do is, I address disputes. If there is a dispute about a definition, people make arguments and I look at the law and I decide….”
– quoted from the confirmation hearing of Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States Ketanji Brown Jackson (Tuesday, March 22, 2022)
Fast forward to the 21st century, where Beyonce, Taylor Swift, and Janelle Monet sing lyrics that seem to be lifted directly from the Declaration of Sentiments or Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s diary – and to that moment when then-Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson was being interviewed to be the first African-American woman on the Supreme Court. Fast forward to that moment, when two very different women faced the question about the definition (the meaning) of the word woman.
When I heard Senator Marsha Blackburn’s question, I heard it as so many people heard it: as that “gotcha” question some people like to ask these days. I also heard it, as so many others have heard it throughout history, as a pick-a-side question. The sides might be defined in different ways now, versus in the 19th and early 20th centuries, but it still marginalizes people who are already marginalized. What I did not hear was a question asked with a sincere interest in the inquiry. What I did not hear was a question posed with an interest in how any of us decides on our answers.
Many people, Senator Blackburn included, have said that Supreme Court Justice Brown Jackson did not answer the question. Others have pointed out that she absolutely answered the question – she just didn’t answer the question with either/any of the answers they wanted to hear. It doesn’t help that many media outlets only reported a portion of her answer. In fact, most major outlets only quoted her as saying, “I’m not a biologist.”
Which, I think we can all agree is true.
I also think, though, that the issue isn’t whether or not Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson is a biologist. And, despite the way the exchange was reported, the issue isn’t even whether or not being a biologist is relevant. The relevant part,in that case, was how a judge, or justice, defines things (i.e., words) as it relates to the law and specific contexts related to the law. As then-Judge Brown Jackson pointed out, the role of judges, or justices, is to look at the differing definitions (when there is a dispute),the arguments behind the definitions, and the law. In other words, they focus-concentrate-meditate on the word, people’s understandings of the word, and the related (or relevant) qualities (as they apply to the law).
Take a moment, to think apply the tool of samyama to the word “woman” (or any of the other aforementioned variations of the theme)*:
What, or who, comes to mind?
What’s your “standard” for a woman?
How many women do you know that don’t fit your exact standard?
What are the overlapping qualities that apply to your “standard” and also to those outside of your standard?
How do you know you know if someone has those overlapping qualities?
*NOTE: This is a deliberately simple rubric, so that you can decide on attributes. If your only attribute is “sex/female,” you could skip the first two questions or you could layout a biological definition of female.
Yoga Sūtra 3.35: hṛdaye cittasaṃvit
– “By making samyama on the heart, one gains knowledge of the contents of the mind.”
Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
NOTE: YouTube features several extra videos that are not available on Spotify. Some are speeches worth hearing. Some are music videos worth seeing. To make up the difference, the Spotify playlist has its own Easter egg.
ERRATA: The original post linked to the wrong YouTube playlist. My apologies for the inconvenience.
“If I am to confess what drove me, as a woman, to become a rabbi, two things come to mind. My belief in God’s calling and my love of my fellow man. God has bestowed on each one of us special skills and vocations without stopping to ask about our gender. This means each one of us, whether man or woman, has a duty to create and work in accordance with those God-given skills.”
– quoted from the doctoral thesis entitled “May a woman hold rabbinic office?” by Rabbi Regina Jonas (b. 08/03/1902)
“What’s happening now is impacting us all in different ways. Sometimes it’s hard to know what to do, where to start or what to say. As we push through this together, we hope we can empower people to connect with others who are struggling and find the help they need now.”
*
– Brendan Maher, Global Director of Mental Health and Suicide Prevention, Movember
A couple of years ago, there seemed to be some heightened awareness around how to ask someone how they were doing. In particular, given some of the things that happened in 2020, there was heightened awareness around how people asked when they were asking someone who might be perceived as being different from them. That perceived difference might be related to race, ethnicity, nationality, religion, age, weight, ability/disability, sexuality, gender… political affiliation. (Just saying.)
Well, today seems like as good a day as any to check back in about how we check in and why it’s so important to check in. Click here to read my 2020 post.
Please join me today (Tuesday, Movember 8th) at 12:00 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules”calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment belowor (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [“Look for Movember 3rd 2020”]
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
A Joyful Practice 