UPDATED 2023: I Moustache You An Important Question November 3, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Changing Perspectives, Depression, Fitness, Food, Healing Stories, Health, Karma Yoga, Life, Men, Science, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: Amelia Karraker, breast cancer, Charlotte Morabito, gender, melanoma, Men's Health, mental health, Movember, No(shave)mber, prostate health, testicular health, yoga
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May you be peaceful and happy / May you be healthy and strong!
“‘As long as records have been kept in all countries, women have lived longer than men,’ said Amelia Karraker, a program official at the National Institute on Aging. ‘Across, basically, almost every major cause of death, men are more likely to die than women are.’”
— quoted from the March 2023 CNBC Health and Science article entitled, “Here’s why American men die younger than women on average and how to fix it” by Charlotte Morabito
The following was originally posted in 2020. The post has been revised, with some statistics updated (or added) to reflect more recent data. NOTE: Some links will direct you away from this site. WARNING: This post discusses physical and mental health issues.
Today is a big day. Not just in the United States, but all over the world, today is a day for changing and also for gaining insight. Today is Movember 3rd — also known as the 3rd day of No(shave)mber, a month dedicated to “changing the face of men’s health.” This month of awareness started in Melbourne, Australia in 2004, but has its origins in a 1999 story about a group in Adelaide, South Australia that coined the word “Movember.” The Adelaide group, of about 80, spent the month “growing whiskers for whiskers” (possibly while drinking whiskey, since they started in a pub) while also raising money for the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (RSPCA) by selling Movember t-shirts.
When Adam Garone, Travis Garone, Luke Slattery, and Justin (JC) Coughlin started the Melbourne group — of 30 “Mo bros” raising awareness for prostate cancer and men’s mental health (specifically depression) — they didn’t realize that they were starting a movement. In 2005, almost 500 people joined the original 30 and raised over $40,000 for the Prostate Cancer Foundation of Australia, the PCFA’s largest donation at the time. Today, the Movember Foundation is an official charity in Australia and the movement has spread all over the world. Furthermore, the movement now includes “Mo sistahs” and other “Mo folks” and the focus has shifted to all aspects of men’s health and the discrepancies between men’s health and women’s health.
“Globally, men die an average of six years earlier than women, and for reasons that are largely preventable. Which means that it doesn’t have to be that way: we can take action to live healthier, happier and longer lives.”
“Mo your own way….”
— quoted from the (US) Movember website
Statistics (for 2019) showed that the average life expectancy for men was 76.3 years, versus 81.4 years for women. Estimates related to COVID-19 indicated that men would lose an average of 2.8 years versus 2.1 years lost by women. In any given year, 1 in 2 men will be diagnosed with cancer (versus 1 in 3 women) and studies show that a third of all cancers are preventable through diet, exercise, and other lifestyle choices. Those same lifestyle choices also benefit everyone’s cardiovascular systems, digestive systems, and mental health.
Despite all the statistics and research about lifestyle choices, a large percentage of men are overweight (with 42.4% of Americans, in general, dealing with obesity and 9.2% with severe obesity). Note, however, that the term “obese” is tricky, especially in the United States, because our metrics can diagnose a very fit and muscular person as “obese.” Consider this then: 13.6% of men over the age of 18 consider themselves in fair to poor health — and many suffer from diabetes and heart disease without even knowing it.
Skin cancer is on the rise for all genders and is the most common cancer diagnosis for men, followed by prostate cancer. While melanoma is treatable and recoverable, the 2023 mortality rate for men is over twice that of women.
In 2020, over 1.4 million men (globally) were diagnosed with prostate cancer — which is treatable and recoverable — while testicular cancer (which is also treatable and recoverable) is the most common cancer in men between the ages of 15 and 35. There’s over 70,000 new cases of testicular cancer every year (74,500 in 2020), with a little over half a million men (worldwide) living with (or beyond) it. The risk of both prostate cancer and testicular cancer increase if someone has a brother or father who has had that particular cancer; if a person has African-American ancestry; and (in the case of testicular cancer) if they have previously had that type of cancer. To make matters worse, men can also get breast cancer — which also has a genetic component.
All of the physical aspects of poor health take a mental health toll in a typical year. Keep in mind, however that 2020 was anything but typical (and the same can be said for 2021 – 2023) — especially when it comes to mental health. Then consider that, at the beginning of 2020, about 51.5 million Americans adults reported experiencing mental health issues within the previous 12 months and that that was an increase from previous years. In previous years, 15 million Americans (in general) were specifically diagnosed with depression. In 2018, an estimated 11.4 million people attempted suicide — with 48,344 Americans reported as dying from suicide. However, men die by suicide almost 4 times more than in women, and the highest rate of suicide is in middle-aged white men (who accounted for 69.67% of the suicides indicated above). In 2021, the number of deaths went down, but the percentage of middle-aged white men in that count was slightly higher. Additionally, veterans are at a high risk for suicide, regardless of gender.
And, let’s talk about the elephant in the room: gender. One set of stats that is only recently being tracked is the physical and mental health of transgender people. Just as diet and exercise affect physical and mental, so too does everyone’s level of hormones — which means hormone treatments could increase or decrease risk of certain illnesses. Additionally, physical and mental health improves when people have emotional support on their life’s journey. In my opinion, the high rate of suicide within the transgender community — as well as the high rate of violence against transgender people — indicates a lack of support and awareness. Thankfully, this is changing; however, as our perceptions change we need to make sure we do not leave transgender (or even non-binary) people out of the conversation.
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Spend time with people who make you feel good.
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Talk, more.
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Know the numbers. (If you are male and over 45, ask your doctor if you need a PSA test.)
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Know thy nuts. Simple.
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Move, more.”
— quoted from the (US) Movember website
According to the (US) Movember website, “70% of men say their friends can rely on them for support, but only 48% say that they rely on their friends.” This is always a wild (and frankly ridiculous) staticstic to me — but it points directly to the stigma and social mores or norms that make it challenging to be a healthy man in today’s society. Don’t get me wrong, as Dr. M. Scott Peck pointed out, “Life is difficult” for everyone. The individual aspects of each person’s life come with distinct physical and mental health risks. However, life is easier and people are healthier when we pay attention to what we’re feeling and also share what we’re feeling with people who respect us and treat us well. If you can’t count five people (or even three people) with whom you can have a mutually beneficial conversation — and between those five or three conversations cover every subject under the sun — you might want to consider how that lack of support translates into your quality of life and general well-being.
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Get your annual physical.
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Don’t smoke.
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Stay active.
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Eat heart healthy foods.
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Manage your stress.
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Drink in moderation.
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Know your family history.”
— Tips printed in Men’s Health
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
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.)
### MO BREATH, MO BETTA ###
Big Gold 2 (the “missing” Wednesday post) August 18, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, First Nations, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Mantra, Men, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Religion, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: alchemy, Annie Hall Strong, Ben Harper, Bob Schneider, Canada, Chilkoot Trail, chinta mani, Cintāmaṇi, Daisy Mason Trust, Dale L. Walker, Dawson Charlie, George Washington Carmack, Gold, Gold Rush, Jack London, James Mason, Jeanne Campbell Reesman, Kate Carmack, Keish, K̲áa Goox̱, Klondike, Native, Philosopher’s Stone, Robert Henderson, Shaaw Tláa, Shyāmantaka Mani, Skookum, Skookum Jim, Tagish, Tagish Charlie, The Skookum Jim Friendship Centre, Tlingit, Vihari-Lal Mitra, White Pass Trail, Yoga Vasishtha, Yukon
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Peace, blessings, and hydration to all!
This is a “missing” post for Wednesday, August 16th (with reference to some August 17th events). You can request an audio recording of either practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email 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.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.)
“16. Hence whatever is obtainable by anyone at any time, is often missed and lost sight of by either his ignorance or negligence of it; as the precious gem in the parable, which was proffered and lay palpable in full view.”
— quoted from (Book 6) “CHAPTER LXXXVIII. The Tale of the crystal Gem. (Argument:—The slipping of a precious stone in ignorance, and picking of a glossy glass in view of it.)” in The Yoga-Vasishtha Maharamayana of Valmiki (translated by Vihari-Lala Mitra)
Generation after generation, there are certain things which seem to capture the imaginations of people all over the world. Yet, as much as we obsess about the thing, we still somehow miss the point. Take gold, for instance. People are so fascinated by gold that, generation after generation, we’ve created great adventure stories – as well as cautionary tales – around gold and the concept of gold.
Gold is a precious metal that is naturally occurring. It is a free element that can be found in rocks, water, and random deposits. It can also be formed. In fact, for thousands and thousands of years, people from all over the world have not only gone “digging” for gold, they have also sought the secret to alchemy: the Philosopher’s Stone, the catalyst that could turn anything into gold and (maybe) offer eternal life.
Some people believe the “stone” is an actual piece of rock or a dry red powder. Others believe it to be a magical liquid (perhaps made from a the red powder). Some Hindu and Buddhist texts (and therefore some Yoga texts) refer to a wish-fulfilling jewel, called “Cintāmaṇi” or “Shyāmantaka Mani,” which can convey wisdom, transform ailments into knowledge, prevent natural disasters, and produce gold on daily basis. Some texts describe a pearl; some describe a ruby. On the flip side, in some cases it is very clearly a sacred word – or the sacred text itself – that makes someone golden.
“2709: Sivayanama is Alchemic
In slighting terms they speak of our Lord;
With thoughts centering on the Light
And hearts melting in love
Let them chant His name;
With the alchemic pill of Sivaya Nama
He will turn thy body gold.”
— quoted from “Tantra Nine – 6 SUKSHMA (INARTICULATE) PANCHAKSHARA” in Tirumantiram: English Translation of the Tamil Spiritual Classic by Saint Tirumular (complete English translation by Dr. B. Natarajan)
Metaphorically, when we think of something as being “golden,” we think of it as good, great. Something (or someone) who is golden has value. Because of the value we place upon it, gold is worth our time… and worth it’s own weight. By the same token, describing someone or something as golden means we consider them worth our time. We consider them valuable. On a certain level, we all want to be golden and we all want the people around us to be golden. But, sometimes, we find we are dealing with fool’s gold.
Fool’s gold looks like gold and may even feel a little like gold. But, it’s not gold. Instead, it is to gold what the rope in the woods is to the snake: an illusion that tricks the brain and activates an emotional response in the body. If we are looking for gold, and we see something in the distance that could be gold, we get excited; the adrenaline starts pumping; we can barely wait to celebrate. Even though fool’s gold is not actually gold, the excitement is real. That very real excitement simply ends up mixed with disappointment. Just as this can literally happen, it can also metaphorically happen. We can get excited about something or someone; we can think they are the real deal – GOLD! Then, we end up looking like the fool; because they were never honest, they were never true. They were never skookum.
“skookum [Chinook, Chinuk Wawa], adjective
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Good, excellent, impressive, best.
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Big, strong, durable, tough, reliable, trustworthy.
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Powerful, brave.
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Really good, right on.”
— definitions from Wiktionary, Wikipedia, and other sources
On the afternoon of August 16, 1896, a family of prospectors found gold in Canada’s Yukon Territory. Skookum Jim Mason, his sister Kate Carmack, their nephew Dawson Charlie, and Kate’s husband George Washington Carmack found a couple of gold nuggets in Rabbit Creek (now called Bonanza Creek), a tributary of the Klondike River. The site had been suggested to the family by Robert Henderson, a prospector who had moved on after finding nothing for several days. While there are some discrepancies about who spotted the first dime-sized nugget, most historians agree that Skookum Jim made the discovery. If not him, then maybe his sister or his nephew. One thing seems clear: George Carmack did not find the nuggets. However, Claim #37903 (the discovery claim) was staked in the name of George Washington Carmack.
Skookum Jim, Kate, and Dawson Charlie were all Indigenous. Given the name Keish (a Tagish word that means “wolf”), Skookum Jim was also known as James Mason. He and his sister Shaaw Tláa, who became known as Kate, were Tagish First Nation members. Their nephew, K̲áa Goox̱, who was known as Dawson Charlie (and also as Tagish Charlie) was Tagish and Tlingit. As excited as they were about their discovery, the family was also concerned that an Indigenous claim might be challenged by Canadian officials and/or other prospectors. So, on August 17th, the discovery claim and a second claim in the same area were staked in the name of the only white member of the family: George Washington Carmack. Being the first to stake a claim in the area entitled Carmack to two (additional) “free” claims. The extra claims were staked in the names of Skookum Jim and Dawson Charlie. These four claims kicked off the Klondike Gold Rush.
“GOLD! GOLD! GOLD! GOLD!
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Sixty-Eight Rich Men on the Steamer Portland.
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STACKS OF YELLOW METAL!
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Some Have $5,000, Many Have More, and a Few Bring Out $100,000 Each.
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THE STEAMER CARRIES $7000,000.
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Special Tug Chartered by the Post-Intelligencer to Get the News.”
— quoted from the “extra” published on July 17, 1897, by the Seattle Post Intelligencer – Klondike Edition
Word spread relatively quickly once the discovery claim was filed. Within a few days, prospectors in the area staked the major claims. Within a year, newspapers made it sound as if it was easy to strike it rich. The headlines made it seem as if all someone had to do was “head west” and they could scoop up gold the way you could pick wild flowers. Over a hundred thousand stampeders were struck by “Klondike Fever.” While many of those who found gold ended up selling their claims to mining companies – and while the area yielded approximately $250 million by the time large-scale mining ended in 1966 – most stampeders never find a single nugget. Some people never even made it to the river. However, all found that the process of getting to a place where there might be gold was just as challenging – if not more challenging – than actually finding gold.
People could get to the Klondike via an all-water route, which was known as the “rich man’s route” because it was so expensive. Some people decided they could hike all the way into the territory – and while some of those hikers arrived, they did so almost two years after the initial rush. Most stampeders used the “poor man’s route” to reach the Yukon River. This hybrid approach required sailing up the Inside Passage to Skagway or nearby Dyea, and then using the White Pass or Chilkoot Trails (respectively) to hike over the Coast Range mountains.
Both coastal towns exploded as people geared up for their hike – and people needed a lot of gear. The Canadian government required stampeders to carry a year’s worth of food and equipment before they ever crossed the border. In addition to the cost of food, clothes, prospecting equipment, and transportation, goods purchased in the United States were subject to a duty. Of course, most stampeders didn’t know what they needed. Intrepid entrepreneurs would eventually create and sell “Yukon outfits” – kits containing all the necessities. In 1897, The Northern Pacific Railroad Company published the Chicago Record’s Book for Gold Seekers. However, some people still ended up with more than they needed. Others found themselves without something critical. But, before they reached that point of discovery, they had to get their “ton of goods” across the mountains.
“In the Skagway News, December 31, 1897 Annie Hall Strong wrote advice to women who ‘have made up their minds to go to the Klondike.’ Ms. Strong weighed in on the required ton of supplies and wrote ‘what should be taken & what should be left behind – from a woman’s perspective.’”
“Among her ‘Advice to Women’, Ms. Strong recommended 3 canvas bags: 1 for bedding, 1 for clothing, and 1 for shoes and boots. From her actual first-hand experience, Ms. Strong says: Evaporated eggs are a failure and everyone who took saccharin as a substitute for sugar were loud in their condemnation of it. Take plenty of sugar. One craves it, and 200 pounds per outfit is not too much. Corn meal, sugar, tea and coffee should be packed in tins. Take plenty of tea. Baking powder and candles are apt to be the first articles to disappear. A few extra pounds would come in very handy. She also recommended lemonade tablets; they are preferable to lime juice and citric acid, being easier to carry, having no weight or bulk.”
— quoted from the Klondike Gold Rush National Historical Park’s “Annie Hall Strong” profile (at U. S. National Park Service site)
Getting to a place where there might be gold was an arduous task. The hike was narrow, steep, and dangerous. In addition to the risky terrain and brutally cold climate, stampeders sometimes had conflicts with each other that led to injury or death. Prior to tramways being built (starting towards the end of 1897), people had to carry everything on their backs and/or use pack mules or horses. Since it was impossible for one person (or animal) to carry everything they needed in one trip, people leap frogged – carrying a load a few feet, setting it down, and then going down for the next load. The leap frog method required people to decide if they could carry a lot of weight for a few trips or less weight for more trips. The heavier loads cut down on the number of times stampeders had to cross the same path, but they resulted in slower travel times.
While the geographical distance they traveled was only 33 – 35 miles (~53 – 59kms), people spent approximately 3 months and hiked hundreds of miles because of the leap frog method. Some people gave up, left their belongings by the side of the trail, and turned back. Some died. Approximately 3,000 pack animals also died. If they got across the mountains, they still had almost 600 miles (~965.6kms) of lake to cross in order to reach Dawson City and the areas where people believed there was gold. Then, they had to find an area that wasn’t already staked. Despite the challenges, 20,000 – 30,000 stampeders headed to the Yukon Territory within the first year… searching for gold.
“It was in the Klondike that I found myself. There nobody talks. Everybody thinks. You get your true perspective. I got mine.”
— quoted from the essay “Eight Factors of Literary Success,” as published in No mentor but myself: Jack London on Writing & Writers by Jack London (Second Edition, Revised and Expanded, Edited by Dale L. Walker and Jeanne Campbell Reesman)
One of those people was a 21-year old man by the name of Jack London. On July 25, 1897, he and his brother-in-law, James Shepard, left San Francisco on board the SS Umatilla. They headed to Juneau and planned to take the “poor man’s route” across the Chilkoot Trail. James got sick early on and had to return to Oakland, California. Jack continued with some veteran stampeders and made it to Dawson City, where he staked Claim #54 in December of 1897. He survived the winter; but just barely. He developed scurvy, spent some time in the hospital in Dawson, and then headed back to the California.
Jack London arrived home to find that his father had passed and that he had responsibilities. But, like so many others, he had no fortune in gold. The only things he had to show for his adventures in the Yukon were swollen gums, loose teeth, a little frostbite, a lot of exhaustion, a pocket full of gold dust, and a head full of stories. Unlike so many others, however, he also came back with a renewed calling: to be a writer. Like an alchemist, he turned the stories of his adventures gold, writing books like The Son of the Wolf (published 1900) and The Call of the Wild (published 1903).
“21. The fool thought this brittle thing to be the real gem now lying before him, as the ignorant sot believes the sparkling sands to be the dusts of the purest gold.
22. Such is the case with the deluded mind, that it mistakes the eight for six and a foe for a friend; it sees the serpent in the rope and views the desert land as the watery expanse, it drinks the poison for the nectar and spies another moon in the sky in the reflexion [sic] of the true one.
23. He took up that sham trumpery for a real gem, and thought it as the philosopher’s stone that would confer on him whatever he desired; with this belief he gave up in charity all he had, as they were no more of any use to him.
24. He thought his country to be devoid of all that was delightsome to him and its people as debasing to his society; he thought his lost house was of no use to him, and his relatives and friends to be averse to his happiness.
25. Thus thinking in his mind, he determined to remove himself to a distant country and enjoy his rest there; and then taking his false gem with him, he went out and entered an uninhabited forest.”
— quoted from (Book 6) “CHAPTER LXXXVIII. The Tale of the crystal Gem. (Argument:—The slipping of a precious stone in ignorance, and picking of a glossy glass in view of it.)” in The Yoga-Vasishtha Maharamayana of Valmiki (translated by Vihari-Lala Mitra)
We can look at Jack London as one of the fortunate few. Similarly, we can see Skookum Jim Mason, Dawson Charlie, and Kate and George Washington Carmack as people who got lucky. After all, they survived the Yukon and collected about $1 million dollars from their original claims. (That would be well over $36 million in 2023.) Skookum Jim and Dawson Charlie also staked smaller claims in Kluane region in 1903. They were all wealthy beyond their dreams. However, their new-found wealth came with challenges… and heartbreak.
Kate/Shaaw Tláa and George Carmack had both been married before and had experienced their share of heartbreak. Kate’s first husband was a Tlingit man who, along with their infant daughter, died during an influenza epidemic. George had been married to one of Kate and Skookum Jim’s sisters, who also died. The family encouraged the widow and widower to marry and, in 1893, about seven years into their union, the had a daughter. Three years later, they struck gold; but, very little changed for the couple during the two additional years they spent in the back country. In 1898, they decided to leave the Yukon Territory and move to Seattle, Washington. They had plans for more great adventures – like buying a boat and sailing to France. Unfortunately, the marriage fell apart within a year and George Carmack abandoned Kate and their daughter.
As George Washington Carmack made plans to remarry, Kate/Shaaw Tláa attempted to file for divorce – only to find there was no official record of her 13-year marriage to George Carmack. She returned to Yukon Territory with no claim to their resources and no official claim to the gold. Carmack eventually tricked their teenage daughter into returning to Seattle, by promising that she could obtain her mother’s share of the gold. But, not only did Kate/Shaaw Tláa never receive any money, she also never saw her daughter again. She would have been completely destitute were it not for her skills in needlepoint, a government pension, and her brother.
“skookum [Chinook, Chinuk Wawa], noun
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Monster; similar to Sasquatch.
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A person who has a purpose and is on solid ground, in good health and spirits.”
— definitions from Wiktionary, Wikipedia, and other sources
True to his nickname Keish/Skookum Jim was generous to a fault. He built a large home for himself and, when she was abandoned, he built a cabin for his sister. When his nephew K̲áa Goox̱/Dawson Charlie passed away (in 1912), Skookum Jim reportedly hosted the largest potlatch (gift-giving feast) their community had ever experienced. He also randomly gave money to anyone and everyone. His marriage suffered and fell apart, leaving him with custody of his daughter Saayna.aat/Daisy. Somewhere along the way, he developed a drinking problem – a really expensive drinking problem, since he would buy drinks for everyone around him.
Keish/Skookum Jim was one of the early miners who sold his claims to a prospecting company. He received $65,000 (which would be over $2 million in 2023). Since he was truly “skookum,” he recognized he had a problem and set aside some of his money to create a trust in his daughter’s name. The Daisy Mason Trust was meant to cover his daughter’s education. He also created a will, establishing legacies for Kate/Shaaw Tláa, his nephew Koołseen/Patsy Henderson (who was originally with the family in the Yukon, but apparently not when they found the gold), and two other relatives. Tragically, the trust and will were not executed as intended after his death in 1916. When his daughter Saayna.aat/Daisy passed (in 1938), the interest from the Daisy Mason Trust was directed “to help obtain a better standard of health and education for Indian People in the Yukon.”
One of the initiatives that came from the Daisy Mason Trust was the creation and construction of the Skookum Jim Memorial Hall, built in Whitehorse 1962). Now operating as The Skookum Jim Friendship Centre, it is the oldest Native organization in the Yukon and the birthplace of The Yukon Native Brotherhood, Yukon Association of Non-Status Indians, Yukon Native Youth, Yukon Native Women, Yukon Native Court Workers, and Yukon Indian Women’s Association. It’s programs include the Skookum Jim Oral History Program, Yukon A.I.D.S. Programming, Native Court Worker Trainee Program, Hawshagoonca-coo Cultural Program, and the Yukon Alcohol Community Action Program. The Centre also facilitated the creation of programs like the Yukon Association of Non-Status Indians (YANSI), Crossroads Halfway House, Yukon Alcohol and Drug Services, and Skookies Educational and Recreation Counseling Haven Program (SEARCH).
While so many others have been forgotten – or only live on in history books and movies – Keish/Skookum Jim Masons’s legacy is still alive… golden… skookum.
“I’ve been fooled before
But now I know
I’ve made the mistake in the past
But now I know the difference
From gold and brass
Not the kind of gold you wear
But the kind that can feel my care
You look like gold”
— quoted from the song “Gold to Me” by Ben Harper
Wednesday’s playlist is available on on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “08162022 Big Gold”]
### “All the gold in the sunset all the diamonds on the sea / It’s all we need to set ourselves free” ~ Bob Schneider ###
FTWMI: The Powerful Possibilities That Come From “A Brother’s Love” August 2, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Confessions, Healing Stories, Hope, James Baldwin, Life, Love, Maya Angelou, Men, Music, Pain, Science, Suffering, Super Heroes, Tragedy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Aimee Lehto, America, Beau Lotto, being present, Boyd Croyner, Civil Rights, Emily Dickinson, inspiration, James Baldwin, Justin Timberlake, Maria Mitchell, Maya Angelou, Muhammad Ali, PRIDE, samskāras, truth, vasanas, yoga
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Wherever you are, wherever you roam, stay hydrated and open to possibilities!
FTWMI: The following was originally posted in 2022. Links and class details have been updated. A practice note related to 2020 and 2021 has been deleted from this version. This is part 2 in my “impossible people” series.
“This also, then, leads on to the idea of whether or not the brain ever does big jumps – or does it only ever do small steps? And the answer is that the brain only ever does small steps. I can only get from here to the other side of the room by passing through the space in between. I can’t teleport myself to the other side. Right? Similarly, your brain can only ever make small steps in its ideas. So, whenever you’re in a moment, it can only actually shift itself to the next most likely possible. And the next and most likely possible is determined by its assumptions. We call it ‘the space of possibility.’ Right. You can’t do just anything. Some things are just impossible for you in terms of your perception or in terms of your conception of the world. What’s possible is based on your history.”
– quoted from the 2017 Big Think video entitled, “The Neuroscience of Creativity, Perception, and Confirmation Bias by Beau Lotto
My idea to spend part of August focusing on “impossible people” – and by that I mean people who do things others believe to be impossible – started long before I had ever heard of neuroscientist Beau Lotto or his work with the Lab of Misfits. In some ways it started with an awareness of certain people’s lives and accomplishments and a curiosity about how they got from A (“impossible”) to Z (“possible”). I mean, on some level I knew about “the space of possibility” and I definitely understood the theory that we live in the past. It is, after all, the science of samskāras (“mental impressions”) and vasanas (the “dwelling places” of habits). I also understood the power of imagination and visualization; often referenced the idea that an epiphany (“striking appearance” or “manifestation”) happens because the mind-intellect is prepared for the revelation; and frequently highlighted how we can be like Emily Dickinson and “dwell in Possibility.”
All of that is backed up by Western science and the Yoga Philosophy. As Dr. Lotto pointed out in his book Deviate: The Science of Seeing Differently, and also in many of his talks and lectures, “We don’t see reality – we only see what was useful to see in the past. But the nature of the brain’s delusional past is this: The past that determines how you see isn’t just constituted by your lived perceptions but by your imagined ones as well. As such, you can influence what you see in the future just by thinking.” And that’s what I hadn’t really used as a point of focus: why some people’s imaginations allow them to think differently and know the baby steps that, to the rest of us, look like giant leaps.
If I were going to pinpoint a single starting point for my change in focus, it would be around July 31, 2016. It was the Feast Day of Saint Ignatius of Loyola and the eve of the anniversary of the birth of Miss Maria Mitchell (and Mr. Herman Melville), and while listening to Justin Timberlake (ostensibly) quote Muhammad Ali to a bunch of teens, I thought, “What combination of things in someone’s past makes their will and determination so strong? What makes someone recognize that “Impossible is just a word…?”
“Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary.
Impossible is nothing.”
– quoted from a 2004 Adidas ad campaign written by Aimee Lehto (with final tag line credited to Boyd Croyner), often attributed to Muhammad Ali
A version of the following was originally posted as “A Brother’s Love” on August 2, 2020.
“Given the conditions in this country to be a black writer was impossible. When I was young, people thought you were not so much wicked as sick, they gave up on you. My father didn’t think it was possible—he thought I’d get killed, get murdered. He said I was contesting the white man’s definitions, which was quite right.”
– James Baldwin, quoted from the interview “James Baldwin, The Art of Fiction No. 78” by Jordan Elgrably (printed in The Paris Review, Issue 91, Spring 1984)
Born today in Harlem, New York, in 1924, the author James Baldwin was – by his own words – an impossible person. His life (and career) were, in so many ways, shaped by a combination of history and opinions. First, there was the history of the United States. Then there were the opinions of his stepfather David Baldwin (who he referred to as his father), regarding life in general, plus his stepfather’s opinion of how the world would view him, how the world actually viewed him, and his own ideas about what was possible – or, what was necessary. He spent the ages of 14 – 17 following his father’s footsteps into the ministry and then, when his father died, he took a giant leap. He said, “Those were three years [preaching] which probably turned me to writing.”
Leaping into writing was not Mr. Baldwin’s only leap. He leapt across the pond to Paris, France, twice, even as his writing challenged Western society’s conceptions about race, class, gender, and sexuality. His essays, novels, and plays include Giovanni’s Room, Notes of a Native Son, The Fire Next Time, If Beale Street Could Talk (which was recently made into a movie) and the unfinished manuscript Remember This House (which was adapted to create the 2016 Academy Award-nominated documentary I Am Not Your Negro). Mr. Baldwin first went to Paris with $40 and not a lick of French. He was 24 years old, coming to grips with his sexuality, and escaping what he viewed – what he had witnessed – was a death sentence at the hands of American society.
“Not so metaphorically. Looking for a place to live. Looking for a job. You begin to doubt your judgment, you begin to doubt everything. You become imprecise. And that’s when you’re beginning to go under. You’ve been beaten, and it’s been deliberate. The whole society has decided to make you nothing. And they don’t even know they’re doing it.”
– James Baldwin, quoted from the interview “James Baldwin, The Art of Fiction No. 78” by Jordan Elgrably (printed in The Paris Review, Issue 91, Spring 1984)
From Paris, he was able to not only gain perspective about his experiences of being Black in America (and of being Black and Gay in America), but also to offer those experience back to the United States – in the form of a literary mirror. In words that very much echo Miss Maria Mitchell’s words, he said wanted to see himself, and be seen as, more than “merely a Negro; or, merely a Negro writer.”
In his late 30’s/early 40’s, Mr. Baldwin briefly returned to the United States and physically participated in the Civil Rights Movement and Gay Liberation Movement that he had (from Paris) helped to literally inspire. He became friends with Langston Hughes, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Medgar Evers, Lorraine Hansberry, Nikki Giovanni, and Nina Simone (who he and Mr. Hughes convinced to become active in the Civil Rights Movement). He worked with Drs. Kenneth and Mamie Clark, as well as Lena Horne and Miss Hansberry, to discuss the importance of civil rights legislation with President John F. Kennedy.
His friendships, however, were not only with Black artists and activists. He worked with his childhood friend Richard Avedon, marched with Marlon Brando and Charlton Heston, collaborated with Margaret Mead and Sol Stein, and also knew Rip Torn, Jean-Paul Sartre, and Dorothea Tanning. In fact, to read a biography or autobiography of James Baldwin is to read a Who’s Who of activism and artistry in the 20th century. But, you don’t have to settle for a reading a measly biography. If you can get your hands on the 1,884 pages of documents compiled by the FBI, you would be in for quite a treat.
Yes, you read that correctly. For a little over a decade, the FBI collected nearly two thousand pages worth of documents on a man that many Americans may not realize helped convince President Kennedy to send federal troops to defend the civil rights activists marching from Selma to Montgomery. True, it’s not the well-over 17,000 pages they compiled on Martin Luther King (not including the wire-tap documents). Here, however, is some perspective: the FBI only collected 276 pages on authors like Richard Wright (Native Son) and 110 pages on authors like Truman Capote (In Cold Blood) and Henry Miller (Tropic of Cancer). Additionally, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover showed a particular interest in Mr. Baldwin and actually worked with agents to figure out ways they could ban Mr. Baldwin’s 1962 novel Another Country.
Perhaps Director Hoover was concerned about the fact that James Baldwin started the novel while living in Greenwich Village and continued as he moved back to Paris and then back to the States again, before ultimately finishing the book in Istanbul, Turkey. Perhaps he was concerned about the novels depictions of bisexuality, interracial relationships, and extramarital affairs. It’s just as likely that J. Edgar Hoover was concerned about James Baldwin’s persistent efforts to depict a deep, abiding, almost Divine, brotherly love; a universal experience of grace and growth that would make more things possible for more people. Whatever the FBI Director’s objections might have been, the report of the Justice Department’s General Crimes Section “concluded that the book contains literary merit and may be of value to students of psychology and social behavior.”
“The occurrence of an event is not the same thing as knowing what it is that one has lived through. Most people had not lived — nor could it, for that matter, be said that they had died– through any of their terrible events. They had simply been stunned by the hammer. They passed their lives thereafter in a kind of limbo of denied and unexamined pain. The great question that faced him this morning was whether or not he had ever, really, been present at his life.”
– quoted from Another Country by James Baldwin
“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.”
– quoted from The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin
When so many of his friends, who were also the leaders of the Civil Rights Movement, were killed, Mr. Baldwin made his second leap back to Paris. Again, it was a leap made out of fear and the basic desire to survive. His grief, anger, horror, and disappointment are all on full display in later works like If Beale Street Could Talk, Just Above My Head, and the 1985 non-fiction book Evidence of Things Not Seen (about the Atlanta child murders). Yet, until his dying day he wrote about love and hope – even using a portion of the Epistle to the Hebrews, from the Christian New Testament, as the title of his book about the Atlanta child murders.
Another place where you can see Mr. Baldwin’s devotion to love, life, and humanity is in the words of his friends; people, who actually knew him, were inspired by him, and some of whom called him Jim or Jimmy. When he died in 1987, Maya Angelou wrote a tribute for The New York Times, entitled “James Baldwin: His Voice Remembered; Life In His Language.” In addition to describing how Mr. Baldwin introduced her to his family as his mother’s newest daughter, she explained that he “opened the [unusual] door” and encouraged her to tell her story.
“Well, the season was always Christmas with you there and, like one aspect of that scenario, you did not neglect to bring at least three gifts. You gave me a language to dwell in, a gift so perfect it seems my own invention….
The second gift was your courage, which you let us share: the courage of one who would go as a stranger in the village and transform the distances between people into intimacy with the whole world; courage to understand that experience in ways that made it a personal revelation for each of us…. Yours was the courage to live life in and from its belly as well as beyond its edges, to see and say what was, to recognize and identify evil, but never fear or stand in awe of it….
The third gift was hard to fathom and even harder to accept. It was your tenderness – a tenderness so delicate that I thought it could not last, but last it did and envelop me it did. In the midst of anger it tapped me lightly like the child in Tish’s womb…. Yours was a tenderness, of vulnerability, that asked everything, expected everything and, like the world’s own Merlin, provided us with the ways and means to deliver. I suppose that was why I was always a bit better behaved around you, smarter, more capable, wanting to be worth the love you lavished, and wanting to be steady enough to bear while it broke your heart, wanting to be generous enough to join your smile with one of my own, and reckless enough to jump on in that laugh you laughed. Because our joy and our laughter were not only all right, they were necessary.”
– quoted from “James Baldwin: His Voice Remembered; Life In His Language” by Maya Angelou (printed in The New York Times Book Review December 20, 1987)
Please join me today (Wednesday, August 2nd) 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 can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “Langston’s Theme for Jimmy 2022”]
“I love America more than any other country in this world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.”
“Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within. I use the word love here not merely in the personal sense but as a state of being or a state of grace – not in the infantile American sense of being made happy but in the tough and universal sense of quest and daring and growth….Love is a growing up.”
– James Baldwin
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.)
### OPEN THE DOOR, & LET ME IN (OR OUT)! ###
Reflections on the Figure of a Father (a prologue) June 18, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Karma, Life, Love, Men, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Suffering, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: Dad's Big Day, Father's Day, Jason Momoa, P!nk, Vihari-Lal Mitra, Yoga Vasishtha
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Happy Pride! Happy Dads’ Day!! Many blessing to all!!!
“15. You see a man in two ways, the one with his body and the other in his representation in a picture or statues, of these the former kind is more frail than the latter; because the embodied man is beset by troubles and diseases in his fading and mouldering, decaying and dying body, whereby the other is not. (The frame of the living man, is frailer than his dead resemblance).”
– quoted from (Book 6) “CHAPTER XXIX. Pantheism. Description of the World as Full with the Supreme Soul.” of The Yoga-Vasishtha Maharamayana of Valmiki (translated from the original Sanskrit by VIHARI-LALA MITRA)
June 18th is a day when I often focus on “defining moments.” For some people, one of the most defining moment of their lives is when they decide to be a parent. To be clear, I’m not talking about the moment they starting trying to conceive or even the moment they discover the conception – although, for some, the moments are one and the same. No, here, I am specifically talking about the moment a person decides they are going to do the work required to be the best parent they can be. As indicated by the quote above, today, I am also specifically talking about “a man.”
We can see (i.e., understand) Yoga Vasishtha 29.15 as referring to men-folk and also to human beings in general. The concept holds true, either way. The statement also holds true if we tweak the language a bit and recognize that “You can see a father in two ways….” There is the the frail, embodied being that begets a child and then there is the representation, the father-figure: the ones we call dad, pa, da, papa, daddy, pappi, paw-paw, gran-daddy, pepaw, uncle-pappy, hey, and any number of names I haven’t listed (including father, if your family is formal like that).
This is not a perfect metaphor, because a picture or a statue does little in the way of active action. Art can, however, leave an impression. It can touch our souls and leave an impression in our hearts and mind. A picture or a statue can even influence the way we see ourselves and the world and, therefore, the way we interact with ourselves and the world. In fact, leaving an impression is one of the intentions of the artist, the creator – and that’s really where I’m going with this idea:
A good parent is someone who intentional (and sometimes unintentionally) leaves a positive impression that influences the way we see ourselves and the world and, therefore, the way we interact with ourselves and the world.
So, as I have said before – and will say again and again, this so-called “Fathers’ Day” is not a fertility celebration. It is a celebration of the ones we call dad, pa, da, papa, daddy, pappi, paw-paw, gran-daddy, pepaw, uncle-pappy, hey, and any number of names I haven’t listed (including father, if your family is formal like that). It is a celebration of those who do the work to raise us up. It is a celebration of those who do the care and the feeding. It is a celebration of the ones whose influence “…lasts for ages with its undiminished beauty.” (YV 29.16)
Click here for the 2020 blog post about Dad’s Day (a.k.a Father’s Day) when it coincided with a bunch of different observations, including International Yoga Day – which falls on the anniversary of the birth of the T. K. V. Desikachar (b. 06/21/1938). NOTE: I have not yet updated the post to reflect the fact that there were religious observations in the Middle Ages that celebrated mothers and maternal figures.
Click here for the slightly more personal 2022 blog post about Dad’s Day (a.k.a Father’s Day) when it coincided with Juneteenth.
There is no class today, but I will be back on schedule (and on Zoom) tomorrow. If you are on my Sunday recording list, I have sent you a copy of the 2020 Dad’s Day practice and a copy of the philosophical 90-minute practice from June 18, 2022. If you want to be added to my Sunday list (or any other list), please email me or comment below.
The “Dad’s Big Day” playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
The playlist for June 18, 2022, practice is also available on on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “09042021 Experiencing the Mind”]
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.)
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.
Errata: The original posting incorrectly referenced the “Father of Modern Yoga,” which is how T. K. V. Desikachar’s father is often remembered.
### CELEBRATE THE PATTERN ###
Starting with the Foundation (a prelude) June 11, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Faith, First Nations, Healing Stories, Life, Meditation, Men, Music, One Hoop, Philosophy, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: asana, Benjamin Franklin, Committee of Five, Constitution, Declaration of Independence, John Adams, Lee Resolution, Robert Livingston, Roger Sherman, Thomas Jefferson, Thomas Paine, William Butler Yeats, yoga, Yoga Sutra 1.32, Yoga Sutras 1.30-1.32, Yoga Sutras 2.46-2.50
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Happy Pride! Many blessings to everyone!!
Yoga Sūtra 1.32: tat pratiṣedhārtham eka tattvābhyāsaḥ
– “To prevent or deal with these nine obstacles and their four consequences, the recommendation is to make the mind one-pointed, training it how to focus on a single truth, principle, or object.”
On and off the mat, we start with the foundation. We build from the ground up. This is standard operating procedure whether we are building an asana; building a life for ourselves; building a relationship; building an edifice; building an organization or a business; and/or building a country. We may have an idea(l) in mind and our desire may be to build from the concept (i.e., that may be what motivates us to build); however, to make the dream come true – to make the idea(l) a reality – we need awareness and material/matter.
That’s the practice. On and off the mat (or cushion), we bring awareness to the foundation and then establish a foundation that allows us to bring awareness to our awareness… or to any number things which can be our point of focus. In mindfulness-based practices, like Yoga and Buddhist meditation, we are very intentional, very deliberate about this method of building. In fact, Patanjali outlined this practice in the Yoga Sūtras. (YS 2.46-50) More detailed instructions (on building asanas) can be found in texts like the Hatha Yoga Pradipika. Shastras, like Yoga Vasistha, and many modern texts also include details on building a practice. And, we can extrapolate from there – taking the practice off of the mat/cushion and into the world.
On a certain level, reality forces us to build from the ground up. However, there is a difference between just doing it and being deliberate and intentional about it. There is also a difference between deliberately and intentionally building from the ground up and starting [everything] with the foundation in mind. For example, in a seated (or moving) meditation practice, when you loose the “thread,” you go back to the beginning – back to the foundation.
Are you still “sitting” in a way that balances effort and relaxation? If the answer is no, adjust. If the answer is yes, bring awareness to the parts of the breath. Notice when (and what) distracts you. Remind yourself that you are “sitting” and breathing. That’s the practice.
Off the mat/cushion, there is a tendency to forget about the foundation once we really get going. No, I’m not ignoring the fact that this also happens in yoga practices where there is a lot of movement and momentum. What I would like to point out, however, is that part of a practice like vinyasa is being mindful of the pace. Being mindful of the pace requires noticing when you are not breathing deeply; when you are moving faster than your breath; and/or when you are “flowing,” but not “placing things in a special way” (which is the literal meaning of vinyasa). Also, over time, not being mindful of the foundation may lead to injuries and/or obstacles to the practice. (YS 1.30-31)
Off the mat/cushion, the tendency to forget about the foundation also has consequences. People get hurt – on a lot of different levels. And, also, obstacles arise that prevent the fulfilment of the original idea(l). What I mean by that is: Sometimes we end up with a final product that looks nothing like the intention. And, sometimes, things fall apart because the center (which is the foundation) could not hold… was not designed to hold without attention/awareness.
“Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;”
– quoted from the poem “The Second Coming” by William Butler Yeats
Today in 1776, the Committee of Five started discussing and drafting a document which would be approved by the Second Continental Congress and presented to England as a Declaration of Independence. Representatives John Adams (Massachusetts), Roger Sherman (Connecticut), Robert Livingston (New York), Benjamin Franklin (Pennsylvania), and Thomas Jefferson (Virginia), worked until July 5th building what became the foundation of the United States of America.
The final document was approved on July 2nd, printed on July 4th, and signed by the delegates of the Second Continental Congress over the course of several months. It contains some of the best and most quoted language associated with democracy and freedom. It is considered, by some, to be the best language regarding an ideal government. Yet, the original language is interesting – as is the language of the final draft. First, the committee originally included language criticizing English people, slavery, and the British slave trade. Ultimately, they decided to exclude the language about slavery, because they thought including it would cost them votes. Another interesting point (of exclusion) is that the words didn’t exactly mean what they said. The words “all men” was not, in fact, applied to all men (let alone all humans).
A portion of the following is an excerpt from a July 2020 post.
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”
– from “The Declaration of Independence” drafted by the Committee of Five and (eventually) signed by delegates of the Second Continental Congress
The Declaration of Independence was the formal announcement and explanation of the “Lee Resolution” (aka “The Resolution for Independence).” Its second sentence is often referenced as “one of the best-known sentences in the English language” and is possibly the most quoted sentence in American history. It provided justification for revolution and the building blocks for a new nation. It was, however, not completely true. While we may want to delude ourselves into thinking the founding fathers meant all humans when they signed off on the declaration – or even all males – the “all men” was very specific in that it meant “white men only.” And, if we are being honest, there was also a religious subtext which further restricted who would be granted the subsequently mentioned Rights. (Yes, yes, we can go around and around about religious freedom, but there was a definite assumption within the text that “all men,” see above, believed in one God – even if they had slightly different ways of worshiping said God.)
The Second Continental Congress approved the resolution and the declaration unanimously, but it was never a sure thing. There was debate with the Committee of Five as to how to present their argument to the other delegates in a way that would sway things in their favor. Remember, everyone on the committee and every one of the delegates was, at the time, a subject of the Crown – meaning they were citizens of the British Commonwealth – and what they were proposing was straight-up treason. They knew this would be evidence of treason. Furthermore, they knew that they were placing their family, friends, and neighbors at great risk. They also thought freedom, liberty, and independence were worth the risk.
The Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States can be seen as the cornerstone of our democracy or the two visible sides of that cornerstone. Included within the Constitution is the governments ability to propose, ratify, and implement amendments. One could argue that providing such a proviso was the 1787 Constitutional Convention’s way of strengthening the foundation and of making sure future leaders (and their descendants) kept the foundation in mind.
“It is the duty of every man, as far as his ability extends, to detect and expose delusion and error. But nature has not given to everyone a talent for that purpose; and among those to whom such a talent is given, there is often a want of disposition or of courage to do it.”
– quoted from the “Preface” (addressed “To the Ministers and Preachers of all Denominations of Religion.”) of “Part III” in The Age Of Reason by Thomas Paine
Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, June 11th) at 2:30 PM. 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 below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “07012020 Caesar Rodney’s Ride”]
Errata: The sūtra quoted at the beginning of this post was originally identified with the wrong chapter number.
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.)
### OM FREEDOM AUM ###
FTWMI: What Makes Us Do What We Do (Where We Do It) June 6, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Dharma, Faith, Fitness, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Life, Men, Music, One Hoop, Religion, Yoga.Tags: 1 Corinthians, D-Day, divine play, George Williams, Laurence Binyon, Plato, President Dwight D. Eisenhower, Ralph Waldo Emerson, World War II, YMCA, yoga, yoga philosophy, Yoga Sutra
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Happy Pride! Many blessings to all.
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted in 2021. Class details and one quoted have been updated or added. WARNING: This post references war. A link to a philosophical variation of this theme, one related to divine play, is linked at the end the of this post.
“Don’t say things. What you are stands over you the while, and thunders so that I cannot hear what you say to the contrary. A lady of my acquaintance said, ‘I don’t care so much for what they say as I do for what makes them say it.’”
– quoted from 1875 essay “Social Aims” by Ralph Waldo Emerson
What do you believe? It seems like such a simple question – especially since it’s not “In what” or “In whom” do you believe? But simple questions can be the trickiest. Because if you believe something – really, truly, believe with your whole heart and every fiber of your being – than your actions will reflect your beliefs. Right? Everything will be in alignment. Right?
Only, we humans tend to be a little more complicated than that. So, maybe the next thing to consider isn’t whether your every thought, word, and deed perfectly reflects what you believe. Maybe the next thing to consider is whether or not you are willing to put all of your efforts – all of your thoughts, words, and deeds – on the line, in support of a campaign (or an organization…or a country…) in which you believe. What would you do for freedom, for country, for God (what every that means to you at this moment)?
Prior to going to London in 1841, George Williams was a young draper from the countryside (Dulverton, Somerset, England to be exact) who had attended school in Tiverton, Devon and apprenticed at a shop in Bridgewater (also in Somerset). He was not a man of the world. But he had a sense of self and described himself as a “careless, thoughtless, godless, swearing young fellow.” For all that, when he arrived in London for a job, he was way out of his depth. He saw London as a dirty place, a place of temptation, a kind of hell on Earth. (Keep in mind; I have heard that he couldn’t tell the difference between schoolgirls in uniform and prostitutes if they were standing on a street corner.)
“All athletes are disciplined in their training. They do it to win a prize that will fade away, but we do it for an eternal prize. So I run with purpose in every step. I am not just shadowboxing. I discipline my body like an athlete, training it to do what it should. Otherwise, I fear that after preaching to others I myself might be disqualified.”
– 1 Corinthians 9:25 – 27 (NLT)
Motivated to overcome the unhealthy living and working conditions and inspired by Muscular Christianity, a mid-19th century philosophical movement based on the idea that one’s mind-body and actions should glorify God, Sir Williams gathered together 11 other drapers to create a place for healthy and moral activities and for, as he said, “the improving of the spiritual conditioning of young men engaged in drapery, embroidery, and other trades.” They gathered together today, June 6th in 1844, to create what one of the drapers, Christopher W. Smith, suggested they call the “Young Men’s Christian Association” [YMCA].
The ideas behind the YMCA expanded and, by the early 1850’s, there were YMCA meetings and branches throughout the United Kingdom, Australia, Belgium, Canada, France, Germany, the Netherlands, Switzerland, and the United States. Jean-Henri Dunant (who would later co-win the first Noble Peace Prize for founding the International Committee of the Red Cross) was the founder of the Swiss branch of the YMCA, Secretary of the YMCA Geneva, and the person who spearheaded the idea for a YMCA World Conference. At that first conference, in August 1855, 99 delegates from nine countries adopted the Paris Basis, which included an international mission and motto. That motto came from John 17:21, “That they all may be one.”
“Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force!
You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world.”
– quoted from the June 6, 1944, printed “Order of the Day” (issued to 175,000 troops by Supreme Headquarters, Allied Expeditionary Force) and the subsequent speech by United States General Dwight D. Eisenhower, Commander of Operation Overlord
Exactly a hundred years (to the date) after the founding of the YMCA, a World War II battle began on the beaches of Normandy, France. At least 156,000 Allied troops put their lives on the line in the effort to liberate Western Europe from Nazi Germany. Today is the anniversary of D-Day, the beginning of the Battle of Normandy, which lasted from June 6, 1944 until August 30th. Codenamed “Operation Overlord,” the military campaign was a coordinated amphibious and airborne effort on five beaches by the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada, France, Poland, Australia, New Zealand, Belgium, Czechoslovakia, Greece, Luxembourg, Netherlands, and Norway.
The original plan was for troops to land on June 5th, on beaches codenamed Gold, Juno, Sword, Omaha, and Utah. However, bad weather delayed the start – and created tactical issues. Some troops were not able to land when and where they were scheduled to land – in one case, at Juno, infantry made it to shore ahead of their supporting armoury – resulting in many casualties. The Allied forces met their heaviest resistance, and possibly the highest casualties, on Omaha Beach, but by the end of the day, the Allies had invaded Nazi-controlled territory.
The campaign that started today, in 1944, moved across the Normandy countryside, engaging over 2 million Allied troops. By the end of August, Paris had been liberated, Germany was forced out of northwestern France, and Allied forces were prepared to join their Soviet allies in the continued effort to rid the world of fascism and end what we now know was the Holocaust.
But, of course, there was a cost. An estimated 226,386 Allied troops died in the campaign, with the Axis powers losing somewhere between 288,000 – 530,000 troops. An estimated 25,000 to 39,000 civilians died (between the pre-invasion bombing and the actual bombing).
“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.”
– from “Ode of Remembrance” taken from “For the Fallen” by Laurence Binyon
When we remember those who were lost today and throughout the war – as well as when we remember those who survived, but were left with permanent scars, inside and out – we must remember that even during times of war, even when there is a draft, people put their lives on the line for a lot of different reasons. People put all of their efforts – all of their thoughts, words, and deeds – on the line, in support of a campaign (or an organization…or a country…) because of something in which they believe. Maybe, like those who engaged in the Muscular Christianity movement of the mid-19th century, it’s a belief in patriotic duty, discipline, self-sacrifice, manliness, and the moral and physical beauty of athleticism. Maybe it’s a belief in freedom, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
Maybe it’s a belief in life.
We can’t always know why someone thinks what they think, says what they say, or does what they do. We can, however, give some thought to how our thoughts, words, and deeds reflect our deepest beliefs.
“And what is the right way of living? Are we to live in sports always? If so, in what kind of sports? We ought to live sacrificing, and singing, and dancing, and then a man will be able to propitiate the Gods, and to defend himself against his enemies and conquer them in battle. The type of song or dance by which he will propitiate them has been described, and the paths along which he is to proceed have been cut for him.” (Book 7)
– quoted from The Laws by Plato
Please join me today (Tuesday, June 6th) 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 below or (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 “06062020 D-Day & YMCA]
Click here for a more philosophical (and slightly playful) variation on this theme and date.
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.)
### PEACE TO & FROM EVERYTHING & EVERYONE WE ENCOUNTER ###
Liminal & Rare Days (the “missing” Tuesday post) March 1, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in 19-Day Fast, Baha'i, Books, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Faith, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Lent / Great Lent, Life, Love, Mathematics, Men, Music, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Passover, Peace, Ramadan, Religion, Science, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Women, Yoga, Yom Kippur.Tags: #shareyourcolours, Baha'i, Baháʼí, Bruce H. Kramer, Calendars, Cathy Wurzer, Dalia Fein, Edward Reingold, Gregorian calendar, Jessica Fein, Joan Borysenko, Julian calendar, kriya yoga, Nachum Dershowitz, niyamas, Rare Disease Day
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Many blessings to all, and especially to those observing Lent, Great Lent, Ayyám-i-Há, and/or Rare Disease Day during this “Season for Non-violence” and all other seasons!
If the colors are too much, click here for a monochromatic copy of this post.
This is the “missing” post for Tuesday, February 28th. Some religious information was posted in 2021 and will be included in the Wednesday post. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below 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 “look for horses, not zebras.” 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 “Share Your Colours” – 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
### SHARE YOUR COLOURS ###
Golden Tigers Made of Steel (a Black History footnote) February 28, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Books, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Life, Loss, Men, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Science, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: A. Philip Randolph, Abraham Lincoln, Alabama, Alice Marie Coachman, Amelia Boynton Robinson, Benjamin O. Davis Jr., Benjamin O. Davis Sr., Betty Kaplan Gubert, Betty Shabazz (Ed.D.), Black History Month, Booker T. Washington, C. Alfred “Chief” Anderson, Caroline M. Fannin, Catherine Moton Patterson, Charles DeBow Jr., Charles Young, Civilian Pilot Training Program (CPTP), Coleman Young, Danielle Spencer, David Williston, DOTA, Dr. Frederick Douglass Patterson, Dudley Stevenson, Edward C. Gleed, Eleanor Roosevelt, Elmer D. Jones, Emmett Jay Scott, Eugene Jacques Bullard, Eugene James Bullard, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Garth Brooks, George C. Royal (PhD), George S. Roberts, George Washington Carver, Gladys W. Royal (PhD), HBCUs, Henry Stimson, James Johnson, Jessica A. Scoffield (PhD), Josephine Turpin Washington, Judge William H. Hastie, Julius Rosenwald, Keenen Ivory Wayans, Lemuel R. Custis, Lonnie Johnson (PhD), Lowell Steward, Mac Ross, Milton C. Davis, Miriam Sawyer, NAACP, Nathaniel Oglesby Calloway (PhD)., Nelson Brooks, Peter Buxtun, Ralph Ellison, Red Tails, Robert Robinson Taylor, Robert Russa Moton, Ron Brewington, Rosenwald Fund, Rosenwald Schools, Season for Nonviolence, Season of Non-violence, Sir Richard Evans, Studs Terkel, Syphilis, the Black Swallow, The Commodores (including Lionel Richie), Theopolis W. “Ted” Johnson, Tuskegee Airmen, Tuskegee Institute, Tuskegee University, United States Army Air Forces (USAAF or AAF), William R. Thompson, World War I, World War II
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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 was Eleanor 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”
– “Knowledge, Leadership, Service”
Practice Notes: See previous note for a practice that would work for a Tuskegee Airman class. As for the rest…
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 ###
En L’Air (a special Black History 2.5-for-1 note) February 23, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Books, Changing Perspectives, First Nations, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Men, One Hoop, Pain, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Angel Hughes, Bessie Coleman, Black History Month, Brave Bess, Captain Rachelle Jones Kerr, Captain Rosemary Mariner, CaShawn Thompson, Connie Plantz, Delta Airlines Captain Stephanie Johnson, Diana Galloway, Eugene Jacques Bullard, Eugene James Bullard, First Officer Stephanie Grant, Jesse Leroy Brown, JET Magazine, Léopoldine Emma Doualla-Bell Smith, Lieut. William J. Powell, Lilly Workneh, Lt. Commander Brenda E. Robinson, Mae Carol Jemison, Margaret Grant, Nia Gilliam-Wordlaw, Orville Wright, Pearl Jam, Queen Bess, Robin Rogers, Ruth Carol Taylor, Shawna Rochelle Kimbrell, Syreeta McFadden, the Black Swallow, the Black Swallow of Death, Toni Morrison
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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 ###
Space and the Power of Hearing(s) (a special Black History note, w/a Tuesday link) February 8, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Faith, Gandhi, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Men, Minnesota, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Poetry, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Alabama Supreme Court, Andy Wright, Beth Birmingham, Bhamwiki.com, birthdays on February 7, Black History Month, Charlie Weems, Christopher Isherwood, Civil Rights Movement, Clarence Norris, Countee Cullen, Creed Conyers, dreaming, Dred Scot, Eeva Sallinen, Ella Virginia Eaton Adams, Emily Sarmiento, Eugene Williams, Frank “Doc” Adams, Garth Brooks, Hallie Rubenhold, Haywood Patterson, HBCUs, James Baker, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Mann Act, Myal Greene, niyamas, Olin Montgomery, Oscar William Adams Jr., Oscar William Adams Sr., Ralph D. Cook, Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth, Roy Wright, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, santosha, santoşā, Scottsboro Boys, SCOTUS, Season of Non-violence, Season of Nonviolence, Sinclair Lewis, Supreme Court, Swami Prabhavananda, Tom Gordon, U. W. Clemon, Willie Roberson, yamas
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Peace and ease to all during this “Season of Non-violence” and all other seasons!
This is a special post for Tuesday, February 7th. Please note that only the Tuesday evening practice references this profile. 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.
WARNING: The following includes a recounting of the Scottsboro Boys trials.
Post revised March 2024.
“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 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. (Of course, for today, you can think of it as 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 many 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. Then, let’s go a little deeper.
Click here to read my 2021 post about practicing santoşā on the 7th.
On Monday, I referenced the daily contemplation elements offered by the Mahatma Gandhi Canadian Foundation for World Peace during this Season for Nonviolence. Remember, these are elements found in the teachings of both Mahatma 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 we 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, 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. Meanwhile, Oscar, Jr. became the first African American member of Birmingham Bar Association (in 1966) and co-founded Birmingham’s first integrated law firm and its first African American law firm. He also litigated a variety of civil rights cases before becoming the first African American to serve on an Alabama appellate court and a well respected member of the Alabama Supreme Court.
Just like with the other dreamers born on this date, to understand the story of Judge Adams, we have to look back at the causes and conditions of his circumstances — which means going a little deeper into history. And, if we are going a little deeper into Alabama history that informed the dreams of the Adams brothers, we can start with their father, Oscar William Adams, Sr., 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 to perfect 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 aforementioned example is not random; it 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 their 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; 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 the 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. They resulted in two more convictions. Appeals to SCOTUS, in 1935, resulted in the convictions being overturned and the 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. This was the first time a Black man in Alabama had been convicted of raping a white woman and had 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; and 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 initial 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 additional 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 the fact that 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. He was 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
We can never know what dreams he would have had and decisions he would have made if Oscar William Adams, Jr. had been someone else’s son and/or had experienced Birmingham in the mid-20th century through someone else’s circumstances. 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.
Soon after he graduated, Mr. Adams, Jr. was admitted to the Alabama State Bar 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 co-founded Birmingham’s first African American law firm with James Baker, an Ivy League lawyer from Philadelphia. The firm became known as Adams, Baker & Clemon, when 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 cases focused on 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 he 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, the court’s statement 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 serving 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 these 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, after completing a portion of the practice, I pose the questions, “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).