Writer’s Quote Wednesday – Bernice McFadden

Good Morning Lovelies and welcome back to another segment of Writer’s Quote Wednesday as hosted by Colleen of Silver Threading. This week I am quoting from Bernice McFadden:

900x400_BW2“I write to breathe life back into memory and to remind African Americans of our rich and textured history.” – Bernice McFadden

I had to reread this quote a few times. I understood it well. I had to reread it to make sure they were not my own words. Its as if McFadden had found a way into my head. Maybe the ancestral blood that links our DNA pulled from the genetic instruction and spoke our hearts into words. Maybe she just heard it in my bones, but this is one of the many reasons why I write: “To breathe life back into memory and to remind African Americans of our rich and textured history.” The quote suggests there is something not living among us, something not honored, not recognized, not praised. It is my hope that my work can be part of the resurrection

About The Author: From Her Author Website

BERNICE L. McFADDEN is the author of nine critically acclaimed novels including Sugar, Loving Donovan, Nowhere Is a Place, The Warmest December, Gathering of Waters (a New York Times Editors’ Choice and one of the 100 Notable Books of 2012), and Glorious, which was featured in O, The Oprah Magazine and was a finalist for the NAACP Image Award. She is a three-time Hurston/Wright Legacy Award finalist, as well as the recipient of three awards from the Black Caucus of the American Library Association (BCALA). She lives in Brooklyn, New York. The Book of Harlan is her latest novel.

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Stop Wasting Time

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You get up. Go to work. Complain at work. Blog at work and complain about blogging. Count the seconds until the day is over. The day is over. Go home. Make dinner. Kiss the wife / husband. Kiss the children. Complain about work tomorrow. Eat dinner. Go to bed. Get up. Go to work. Complain at work. Count the seconds until the day is over….

Has it ever occurred to us that there is more to life than just existing? How many of us can honestly say that we enjoy every minute of time we have in a day? By “enjoy” I do not mean spending your days partying like a rock star, going to clubs, getting rich or die trying. I mean as in to appreciate, or to value. Yes, your career or job may not be what you want at this time but you are there for a reason. It could be because your smile puts a smile on someone else face. Could be because your “Good Morning!” warms someone’s heart. It could be because your “weirdness” is not weird at all. If only the world was just as crazy as you are, maybe it would be in a far better place. If only it carried your light.

And what of those in-between moments? When your on lunch, what are you doing in that time? Are you reading and nourishing your mind? Are you studying for something? Are you seeking to be a better person today than you were yesterday?

And what of it when you come home? Are you cherishing those moments or complaining about them?

It would have been nice to have our expiration dates tattooed to our chest when we were born. To have written on our birth certificates:

March 12, 1956 – September 9, 2020

That would have been nice but it would have also made our lives a lot different than they are now. Many of us would be far better people and seek to live far better lives. We would give more, and we would care more. Except, this isn’t reality. The covenant we make to die when we breathe our first breath does not come with a date. And when its time to go, and our life flashes before our eyes, the years we wasted we are going to desperately want back. Do something today that is going to actually mean something when the dust settles and the gravediggers are singing your song.

Choices

I woke up this morning to this scene in The Matrix Reloaded. I’ll just leave it here:

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Oracle: We can never see passed the choices we don’t understand.

Neo: You mean I have to choose whether Trinity lives or dies?

Oracle: No, you already made the choice. Now you have to understand it.

– The Matrix Reloaded

The Oscars: Our Fight

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OK, so what’s my thoughts on this? Well, there’s the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in-between. There’s the surface and then there’s what is beneath the surface but I’m not going to get into all of that. There’s some dark clouds in Hollywood but there’s some sunshine too. As far as the Oscar Boycott is concerned, I don’t have much to comment. On this cool, yet beautiful Saturday, my day of rest, my Sabbath, and my calm. On this day, where I usually do not post, I needed to write this and I choose to keep it beautiful.

From the positive end of the spectrum, there’s a glint of light attempting to bud and to shine and to erupt into something beautiful. Something is trying to break through the hard shell, pierce the darkness, and replenish the damaged soil in Hollywood. Who knows what will come of it. Will blacks gather as a cohesive unit to achieve something of their own? It is not really just about the Oscars. It’s about a jolt of consciousness that is needed, and perhaps now being conceived, to move this powerful people. Come forward Gideon. Come forward David. Come forward Samson. Come forward and tell your story the way that it needs to be told.

They Don’t Know Who They Are

There’s a rumor taking place among African Americans in America. A rumor that has always been there but that is now being echoed from the mouths of others. We heard it first from Raven-Symoné and then Whoopi Goldberg, and now Stacey Dash.

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Let us start by saying that The United States has been drunk off the blood of the African American for 397 years now–that is from 1619 to the present, when blacks were first brought here in a servitude capacity on the banks of the James River in Jamestown Virginia. Since then blacks have fought in every American war and contributed to every major American architectural structure. Blacks have single handily been the backbone to American wealth and prosperity. Their slave labor is the reason many people are still wealthy today. It is no coincidence that they succeeded in the cotton fields where the Native did not. They were not brought to America by mere chance, but their captors understood their farming history as a people and their capacity to flourish. It is because of this that many African Americans feel that there is no one more American than they. This is when things get weird.

The servant is not invited to the party as a guest. The servant is invited as a servant. His job is not to mingle or even to sit at the masters table. The servant is not prohibited to kick his shoes off, go upstairs and rest. The servant is not there to get comfortable. The servant’s job is to serve. The black man and woman didn’t come to America on a plane. The black man and woman came to America in shackles. We’re not talking about the blacks who arrived here prior to 1619, we’re talking about the blacks who began what is infamously known as The Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade. These blacks, it is clear, have no idea who they are as a people. They have been robbed and spoiled and hidden into prison houses. They have no idea what’s going on around them or in front of them. They are wild bulls in a net and filled with the fury of the Almighty. Mistake it not that they are blessed. Any contribution from them is prosperity. The blood in their veins is still a covenanted one. They sing songs about redemption and have built communities out of nothing.

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However, at what point has American become synonymous with ethnicity, or rather, nationality? Were not your ancestors considered less than human beings when this country was built? If given the chance do you think the founding fathers would not have signed the constitution in your blood? You cannot align yourself with the Native because he too had you as slaves. Did your rights not have to be amended or added on like a button to a shirt? What to the slave is the 4th of July?

The Mexican American is American. The Canadian American is American. The European American is American. The Irish American is American. All of these people are Americans because they live in America, but when we talk about the nationality, which refers to a country, who are you? Every other people in America can still point in the direction of their natural heritage except the African American in America. This perpetual state of ignorance has caused many of them to settle for being Americans. They don’t know who they are. Just because I help build someone’s house, this does not make it mine.