Research project traces the lives of slaves who lived and worked at the plantation that is now Hampton National Historic Site
Baltimore Sun Here is what I’m reading about diversity in museum leadership
Black Art In America™ Gallery & Gardens The Value of History
History Relevance is a coalition of historians and scholars that promotes and supports historical thinking as a way to inform discourse surrounding contemporary issues. 1804 Consultants endorses the coalition’s Value of History Statement. I am pleased to share the full statement with you.
THE VALUE OF HISTORY STATEMENT
IDENTITY » History nurtures personal and collective identity in a diverse world. People discover their place in time through stories of their families, communities, and nation. These stories of freedom and equality, injustice and struggle, loss and achievement, and courage and triumph shape people’s personal values that guide them through life.
CRITICAL THINKING » History teaches vital skills. Historical thinking requires critical approaches to evidence and argument and develops contextual understanding and historical perspective, encouraging meaningful engagement with concepts like continuity, change, and causation, and the ability to interpret and communicate complex ideas clearly and coherently.
TO OUR COMMUNITIES
VIBRANT COMMUNITIES » History is the foundation for strong, vibrant communities. A place becomes a community when wrapped in human memory as told through family stories, tribal traditions, and civic commemorations as well as discussions about our roles and responsibilities to each other and the places we call home.
ECONOMIC DEVELOPMENT » History is a catalyst for economic growth. Communities with cultural heritage institutions and a strong sense of historical character attract talent, increase tourism revenues, enhance business development, and fortify local economies.
TO OUR FUTURE
ENGAGED CITIZENS » History helps people envision a better future. Democracy thrives when individuals convene to express opinions, listen to others, and take action. Weaving history into discussions about contemporary issues clarifies differing perspectives and misperceptions, reveals complexities, grounds competing views in evidence, and introduces new ideas; all can lead to greater understanding and viable community solutions.
LEADERSHIP » History inspires leaders. History provides today’s leaders with role models as they navigate through the complexities of modern life. The stories of persons from the past can offer direction to contemporary leaders and help clarify their values and ideals.
LEGACY » History, saved and preserved, is the foundation for future generations. Historical knowledge is crucial to protecting democracy. By preserving authentic and meaningful documents, artifacts, images, stories, and places, future generations have a foundation on which to build and know what it means to be a member of the civic community.
Click here to learn more about History Relevance.
Check out “Best Shot,” a new documentary on high school basketball in Newark
I was excited to hear from the company developing “Best Shot,” the new YouTube Originals series about life and basketball in Newark. The documentary focuses on the Central High School Devils 2017-18 season. I was invited to provide some perspective and commentary in episode 1. Click here to view the episode.
Honoring James Brown
As a historian, I am often asked to share my thoughts on heroism. What does a hero or heroine look like? What do they do that’s so special? Do you have a favorite?
If my study of the past has taught me anything, it’s that heroes and heroines don’t have a “type.” They come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. I have found it also true that, when you dig deeply enough, the heroic among us rarely (if ever) consider themselves so.
This is most certainly true of James Brown, namesake of the James Brown African American Room at the Newark Public Library in New Jersey.
James Brown dedicated his 29-year professional life to curating and expanding the Library’s collection of resources on the African American experience. When, in 1991, Mr. Brown died at the much-too-young age of 53, the James Brown African American Room was dedicated in his honor.
The Friends of the James Brown African American Room formed in 2016 to support the pioneering work of this extraordinary man by raising funds to purchase books, music, films, and reference materials, and enabling the Newark Public Library to offer programs and exhibitions about the African American experience. Together the Friends of the James Brown African American Room and the Newark Public Library work to achieve Mr. Brown’s vision to document, preserve, and foster the history, culture, and literary achievements of the African Diaspora for the patrons of the Newark Public Library and beyond.
The mission and work of the James Brown Room (or JBAAR, as Library regulars like to call it) are clearly in concert within the philosophy of James Brown and, I feel, would clearly be within the philosophy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Toward the end of his journey, King said, “The nation is sick. Trouble is in the land. Confusion all around.”
This is not the King we often hear about — the King that condemned not only racism and segregation but who also condemned the very structure of the country — the structure that continues to breed the racism, bigotry, poverty, greed; the structure that allows the United States to be the dominating power, where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.
I agree with the Rev. Dr. William J. Barber II, another hero of our times, who stated, “The best way to destroy and distort the legacy and message of a prophet is to reimagine him as popular.” King is a popular image now, even among those who condemned him while he was alive. But even the most cursory dive into his writings and teachings reminds us, and calls us to remind others of, the real Martin King, who found himself challenging a society stricken with a neurotic sickness and septic addiction to racism, poverty and militarism.
King’s diagnosis of our society was more complex than is routinely recalled. He saw that things were bad, but he also saw that people with nothing to lose still had the ability to hope. It was hope that gave them the inspiration and power to protest and to march against a nation that is sick. A nation where “trouble is in the land and confusion is all around.”
Any attempt to celebrate and commemorate King without engaging with his prophetic diagnosis and radical prescription undermines his legacy and dismisses the poor people who responded to his call.
Whatever Donald Trump’s mental state and apparent capabilities, around 60 million Americans were willing to entrust our government to him after they heard the extremism of his policy proposals. And a majority in the House and Senate have demonstrated that they are willing to work with him to take healthcare away from millions of Americans, attack immigrants and the LGBTQ community, dismantle public education, pour billions more dollars into a war without end on terror and pass a tax bill that represents the single largest transfer of wealth to America’s elite since the outright theft of Native American land and the labor of 4 million enslaved Africans.
A vast majority of the American people know something is wrong. The president’s approval ratings are below 40%, but people tend to concentrate on needing a new president. What we really need is a new moral center. We need to think — not only about King, but about our role in this 21st century world of chaos.
Many Republicans have spoken out against the president’s Tweets and antics while continuing to vote for his extreme agenda. They don’t object to what he’s saying, just how he says it. Many Democrats, on the other hand, seem to think that Trumpism can be countered by an economic message that does not address the deep connections between our historical inequality and the rise of white supremacy.
Some of the challenges we face were articulated by King. But he was a 20th century King. The fifty years since his death have brought a new technical world filled with much of the same hatred disguised in a different kind of Jim Crow. The James Brown Room offers the opportunity to immerse oneself in the history and culture of the African diaspora so that we can prepare ourselves to face the challenges of today — challenges just as, or even more, important than those faced by our ancestors and King fifty years ago. The backlash will be no less intense. Therefore, we must be strong and seek to build our intellectual, cultural, and spiritual armor with a rigid discipline as we address the real needs of all people of color.
Anyone who knew James Brown knows that he would expect no less from us. A product of southern Jim Crow, northern oppression, and the Viet Nam massacre, his belief in the need for educated change was unshakeable. So it is in his name that I ask this: when you honor the memory of King, do it with your ears and eyes open. Breathe in the spirit of culture that has made us, and arm yourself with the strength to keep the struggle alive.
The Dance
The radiator clanged once. I tense up. I flinch, bite my lip, and brace myself. My mother is at work, my brother out and I’m home alone.
I can hear my mother’s instructions: “Do what he asks. He’s drinking that Mad Dog and it will knock him out within 1/2 hour. Just be patient and do what he says till he goes to sleep and he’ll be out for the night.”
She knows my temper. Although still more child than adult —I am fearless when convinced I am in the right and when my father is drunk I always think I was right.
Clang, clang, clang again. Louder this time, with impatience.
I reluctantly make my way up the steps. Holding back tears, I enter the room. Television blaring he is laying across the bed. I look at him with disgust while straining to be civil.
“Make me some cream of wheat.”
In as conciliatory a voice as I can muster, I ask: “Do you want a small bowl or a large?”
He answers, “Small.”
“Do you want a teaspoon or a tablespoon?”
“Teaspoon.”
“Do you want butter and sugar? Do you want milk?”
He says yes to both.
This is The Dance. I know every step. I know to be as explicit as possible and as nice as possible. I know to do anything it takes to keep him from morphing from an almost pleasant drunk into a demanding and unreasonable one. Can I maintain a cool until the Mad Dog does its job of nullifying the curse of a lifetime of feeling not good enough? The drink will produce dreams of success he felt should have been his.
All of his 22 siblings, with one exception, drank to excess. They all suffered from the disease of not feeling good enough. I had a front row seat observing the lives of a family with an inherited family legacy of not measuring up.
The Caldwells are a squat, dark, abrupt group. My father wore a size 6 ½ triple-E shoe and in his mind was 5’4’’ tall. His height and poor eyesight kept him out of WWII, which was a particular embarrassment. Our necks are nonexistent. We are as far away physically from Anglo standards of what is considered handsome or pretty as one can get. No straight backs in this family. We are hunched and our clothes never fit correctly. We have sparse hair, bad teeth, and difficult personalities. We fight with each other and delight in our ability to cuss people out.
We are good readers of reasonable intelligence but we do not believe we are good at anything — except cussing, for people who look like us are not even given an opportunity to prove ourselves worthy. We are followed in stores because we look shady. Our hands could be raised in school but we are never called on. We can offer an opinion only to be told we are incorrect and hear someone else parrot our words and be celebrated for their insight.
I learned to make flawless cream of wheat. There are no lumps. I had lots of practice, for his ulcer flare ups for long periods of time did not allow him to eat much of anything else.
I know the whys of the drinking. Even at age 15 I understood the legacy of abandonment. My father was 8 when his mother died and he was sent to an orphanage where he was ill-treated. His schooling stopped at the age of ten. Yet he installed central heating and indoor plumbing in the fixer-upper he and my mother purchased, in expectation of my birth. He made our furniture, could fix any automobile, and was a voracious reader. He taught himself algebra so he could tutor my brother and his friends. He would quote Whitman, FDR, Machiavelli, and Rousseau at whim, and was a devout follower of Marcus Garvey and W.E.B DuBois.
The radiator clangs — this time even harder, louder. I deliver the Cream of Wheat. He has changed his mind. “Why is their milk in the bowl? Why a small spoon—you are supposed to be a smart girl,” he says. “I am a man. Only children eat with teaspoons.”
I hold my tongue and pray that he falls asleep as I feel the ugly side of my soul rising and I certainly do not want a fight tonight.
But fight we did. The Dance ended on its usual note. But the ending to that night is for another reading at another time. I’m feeling good today so will end on a positive note.
My father did have the good sense to marry my mother—a woman who had a remarkable, loving personality. She was pretty, five inches taller even in flats, which she never wore. She was a stiletto lover and four shades lighter than he. She was strong, fully confident and let no man rule her. He so desperately did not want his children to be Caldwells and managed to find a woman who was everything a Caldwell was not. She loved herself and she loved him.
I’m more her than him and more often than not, I hated him. But because of her, I loved him too, for from her I learned that Everybody is God’s Somebody.