LA Sentinel veteran columnist, Larry Aubry has passed. No one can deny that Larry was an uncompromising, relentless, no-holds-barred warrior for social justice. For decades, he fought to improve conditions for African Americans in Los Angeles, but other minorities – such as Latinos and Koreans – also benefitted from his strident advocacy for equal rights.
This is a special Mother’s Day Message delivered at our Sunday Soul Session and dedicated to all our mothers, but especially to our mother. The mother I share with our brothers and sisters.
In this winter of pandemic devastation and an ice cold lack of official focus, concern and actions to address our unequal suffering and disproportionate number of deaths, there is talk of summer possibly lessening the overall impact of the virus. But even a lessening of the overall impact of the virus does not mean we will benefit equally or similarly by it. For like all the other trickle-down, “rising tide and lifting all boats pablum,” it does not recognize that equal effect requires equal capacity and conditions which we lack. Moreover, we know our problems of health and life are not seasonal, but social.
Nurturing and asserting the narrowest and most degraded forms of individualism, they find it difficult to feel for others, delay gratification and think seriously about the consequences of their actions and those of their monster mentor. Afterall, Trump has assured them he needs no mask, argued early that the virus was a hoax, dismissed it for months and made no national preparations for it. Instead, he has offered them safety and salvation behind apartheid walls, bans on Muslims, Africans – Continental and Caribbean, Latinos and Asians, imprisoning and packing immigrants together in unsanitary and disease producing conditions, and urging them, his followers, to rush into the streets and rage against restrictions and rules instituted to save lives, including their own.
In these troubled, troubling, tragic and trying times, more than ever, we must not only be a people in itself but also a people for itself. That is to say, a people who are not only different and distinct, but also self-consciously and actively so.
So, we have come again to a beautiful and hopeful time: Spring, the promise of new and renewed life; Easter and conversations, imaginations and initiatives of resurrection, renewal, repeating life, “coming forth by day” and rising in radiance into the heavens and afterlife. The concept of resurrection, repair and renewal has a long and rich history in the spirituality, ethics and social teachings of African people. It is both a spiritual and social-ethical concept in the intellectual genealogy and social history of Black thought and offers us lessons on how to live and die and rise up and live again in beautiful transformative ways.
Reflecting on the challenge before us, I am drawn to the word for “challenge” in Swahili, changamoto. The word is a combination of two words—moto (fire) and changa which has several meanings, but is here interpreted as both to collect and to contribute. Thus, it literally means both to collect and contribute fire, a gathering and giving of fire, interpreting fire here as vital and transformative energy and focused and determined agency.
In this time of pandemic, panic, hoarding and conversations about health and well-being that we are forced to have, I offer these thoughts again for mindful consideration.
There is no real or rational denying of the damage and disruption the coronavirus has done and is continuously doing to our lives and livelihoods, our health and happiness, our meetings and modes of education, our public and private events, travel, and the economy. This deadly and disabling virus has also impacted our family gatherings and visits to each other’s homes and to each other in hospitals, nursing homes and elsewhere, as well as our places and ways of worship. In a word, it has closed down and narrowed the spaces for our relation-building, renewal, work, recreation, relaxation, grounding and the goodness that comes from just being together.
Meditation for March and the whole year. Sometimes it is good to stop in the midst of the hustle and bustle of every day and sit down and remember and reflect on people we’ve known and know; places we’ve been and are in now; positions we’ve taken and take now; where we’ve come from and are going; and what we’ve done and want to keep doing, regardless.
Again, so we might remember and raise up, pursue and do the good. We owe this month of meditation, celebration and recommitment to increased study of our history to Dr. Carter G. Woodson (1875-1950), the founder of Black History Month, who rose up from the evil and debilitating depths of post-Holocaust segregation and suppression to point to a new way to understand and assert ourselves in history and the world.
This is a reminder and reinforcement for Black Lover’s Day this month and each day all year round. It is not an exaggeration to state that there is no issue of greater importance, urgency or enduring impact in terms of the foundation, functioning and future of us as a community and a people than the quality of male/female relationships.
As we contemplate various ways to celebrate Black History Month, we must ask ourselves how do we pay proper hommage to this sacred narrative we know as Black History? How do we think and talk about this, the oldest of human histories and about the fathers and mothers of humanity and human civilization who made it? And how do we honor the lives given and the legacy left in and on this long march and movement through African and human history?
Let us begin this sacred month offering tambiko, homage of rightful remembrance and profound appreciation of the way openers, lifters up of the light that lasts and tireless teachers of the good, the right and the possible. Let us say then, as it is written in the Husia: homage to you beautiful, Black and radiant spirits. You shall always be for us glorious spirits in heaven and a continuing powerful presence on earth. You are counted and honored among the ancestors. Your names shall endure as a monument. And what you’ve done on earth shall never perish or pass away. Hotep. Ase. Heri.
In this time of warmongering, weapon brandishing and the waging of war of various kinds against the vulnerable, revisiting this Kawaida stance and statement on the importance and essential good of peace is both needed and reaffirming.