I don't believe in anybody's purity as far as bigotry is concerned. In my mind, the way black and brown men treat women's issues should be all the proof that anybody needs that this is true: Virtually no individual is absolutely pure when it comes to bigotry.
But let me make something else clear. The various forms of power-laden, white racisms aren't all the same either. There are different versions.
Our ability to make Hillary Clinton responsive to black and brown needs may be limited. But Ronald Reagan dog whistled his KKK version racism and WHITE MOB VIOLENCE increased ALL OVER THE COUNTRY.
And Donald Trump ain't whistling. He's not even close to whistling. Trump cannot be allowed to be president of this country. If you were in doubt of that before the KKK endorsed him in their official newspaper. Doubt no more.
And remember this: People died so black and brown people can vote. Fannie Lou Hamer was severely beaten for your right to vote.
So let's get out there and do it.
Voting Hillary Clinton in may be voting in "business as usual" But letting Donald Trump slip slide is way into office is "business as usual" in an 1880 to 1960s style. Let's not go backward. For those who don't know your history, as high profile as black death at the hands of police have been lately, we have a lot to lose.
VOTE
* * * * *
1977: Poem for Mrs. Fannie Lou Hamer
Related Poem Content Details
Honey when you come down here you
supposed to stay with me. Where
else?”
Meanin home
against the beer the shotguns and the
point of view of whitemen don’
never see Black anybodies without
some violent itch start up.
The ones who
said, “No Nigga’s Votin in This Town . . .
lessen it be feet first to the booth”
Then jailed you
beat you brutal
bloody/battered/beat
you blue beyond the feeling
of the terrible
And failed to stop you.
Only God could but He
wouldn’t stop
you
fortress from self-
pity
Humble as a woman anywhere
I remember finding you inside the laundromat
in Ruleville
lion spine relaxed/hell
what’s the point to courage
when you washin clothes?
But that took courage
just to sit there/target
to the killers lookin
for your singin face
perspirey through the rinse
and spin
and later
you stood mighty in the door on James Street
loud callin:
“BULLETS OR NO BULLETS!
THE FOOD IS COOKED
AN’ GETTIN COLD!”
We ate
A family tremulous but fortified
by turnips/okra/handpicked
like the lilies
filled to the very living
full
one solid gospel
(sanctified)
one gospel
(peace)
one full Black lily
luminescent
in a homemade field
of love
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