Welcome to February

 This is a busy day and month. It’s the beginning of Black History Month; the start of Imbolc; and a lead-up to

• Groundhog Day (tomorrow)
• Valentine’s Day (14th)
• President’s Day (20th) and,
• The start of Lent (22nd, for those who observe)

Earlier this week I was reminded of something about black history I had lost track of. Several years ago I read From Dirt, an essay of Camille Dungy's published in Emergence Magazine. The theme(s) reappear in her new book, Soil: The Story of a Black Mother’s Garden, which will be published by Simon and Schuster on May 2, 2023.

As she prepares to plant Cherokee pole beans—descendants from beans carried on the Trail of Tears—Camille T. Dungy reflects on the legacy and journey, triumph and trauma, of seeds.

The essay alerts US to the fact that Native Americans were not the only victims on the Trail of Tears. According to Wikipedia,  "A small number of non-Indians who lived with the nations, including over 4,000 slaves and others of African descent such as spouses or Freedmen,^[16] also accompanied the Indians on the trek westward.^[14]” 

by mid-month, may our hearts be as one

Photo by J. Harrington

In my opinion, the United States is as entitled to deny our mixed history of slavery and displacement of natives as Germany is to deny the Holocaust, Japan the attack on Pearl Harbor, and the US the atomic bomb drops on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. In fact, although I’m not a very religious person, I believe it says in the New Testament something like “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” Denying history does not make one without sin, it adds to one's pile of transgressions.

On this Feast of Imbolc, is it not timely and appropriate to recognize our emergence from a time of darkness into growing light as the sun grows higher in the sky. Casting more light on our history leads to both a better future and a better reconciliation over past acts of darkness with whoever we consider to be our higher powers.

I, Too

Langston Hughes - 1901-1967

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
Then.

Besides, 
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—

I, too, am America.

********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.