Literary Analysis Essay, Research Paper

Tawn WimsAfrican-American Women’s AutobiograpiesMartha H. Brown, HistoryNEH Seminar 1994 Finding My Voice All my life I have been searching. I have been searching for my identity in a world I felt denied me. I have been searching for my voice. I have felt unusual somehow, as if I was desirous of things that I should not want, longing for goals that were out of my reach, wanting a world that could not exist. My search has been on many levels, reflecting the various cultures with which I identify. As an African-American, I have wanted to be judged, as Martin Luther King said, “not by the color of my skin, but by the content of my character”. As a woman, I have wanted to be recognized and appreciated as an equal, and not as someone who should be “barefoot and pregnant” in the kitchen. And as a human being, I have made it my mission to do what I can to make the world a better place to live. As I grew up, I felt that how I viewed myself and how society (history, media) viewed me were entirely different. American history left me with the impression that African-American women did not strive to make the world a better place; in fact, we were portrayed as either seductive temptresses or superstitious and childish mammies. My history lessons in school showed me that African-American women had neither the intellect nor desire to contribute to the betterment of humankind. While I was learning my American history, (and feeling that I had no basis to assume that I could desire the things that I did), the media helped to reinforce negative stereotypes about two of the cultures with which I identified. I watched the news and was shown stories that featured African-American women on welfare, or African-American men committing heinous crimes. But that was not me! I needed a role model. I needed someone to show me that how I saw myself was good, and that my expectations were reasonable. I found my role models when I attended the in the National Endowment for Humanities (NEH) summer seminar on African-American Women’s Autobiography. I found my voice and my personal story in women who lived and died years before I was born. In their stories, I found verification of my wants, desires and beliefs. In their texts, I found explanations and instructions. They gave me explanations about my family’s secrets, and instructions about how to live my life in a way that had meaning. There were five texts in all, listed here in the order of the reading: Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, Written by Herself, Harriet Jacobs; The Journals of Charlotte Forten Grimke, Charlotte Forten Grimke; A Colored Woman in a White World, Mary Church Terrell; Crusade for Justice, Ida B. Wells; and finally, Dust Tracks on a Road, Zora Neale Hurston. Incidents is a story of strength and courage in a life of seemingly insurmountable obstacles. It characterizes the struggle to be recognized in one’s own right, and not by the definition of another. It speaks of choices, when the choices presented are often the lesser of two evils. Harriet’s story clearly demonstrates the reasons for the various colors one can find in “black” people. African-American people come in various hues and shades. One can find an individual claiming the African-American ethnic group whose skin tone is that of an European-American. Harriet’s voice illuminates the tortuous lives most slaves led, even those relatively privileged house slaves. She makes painfully clear the sexual abuse most slave woman had to endure at the hands of their masters. Hers “…is the voice of a woman who… insist[ed] that the forbidden topic of the sexual abuse of slave women be included in public discussions of the slavery question.” (page xiv) Since slaves were considered the legal property of the slaveholders, they were subject to the sexual desires of their masters. “Needless to say, white society, concerned with private morality as well as racial purity, did not condone sexual relations between white men and black women.” (This “One Great Evil”, page 37) But the public attitude did not shelter the slave woman. Instead, the European-American men hid their illicit affairs from public view in order to protect their good name. Other European-American men often joined in the “conspiracy of silence.” (This “One Great Evil”, page 38) …in August of 1861 the Reverend C.C. Jones of Georgia charged an older married man who had been a guest in his home with debauching one of his young slave girls. Jones supplied the following evidence to support his accusation: the testimony of the slave girl, the child born nine months after the alleged rape, the child’s resemblance to the alleged father. The question was brought before the session of the Presbyterian Church in Columbus, Georgia. It refused to take action on the ground that the evidence was not sufficient to risk ruining the man’s reputation. Incensed, Jones searched for more evidence and found that his guest had been charged with a similar action some time before. Still, the session took no action. (This “One Great Evil”, page 38) This is the environment in which Harriet lived, an environment where her voice was silenced. Her story gave meaning to my story. Through reading her text, I finally understood why my grandfather never spoke about his father, and why his complexion was so fair. It also gave me some insight into the possible reasons why my octoroon grandmother took her own life. Charlotte Forten Grimke’s voice was that of a free African-American woman, trying to make sense of the insensible world in which she lived. She lived the life of the privileged middle class. She was well educated and cultured. Her family was deeply involved with the anti-slavery movement, and were amongst those who fought tirelessly for the abolition of the institution of slavery. Despite her affluence, privilege and education, Charlotte was still not satisfied with the life she led. She strived to be selfless, and wanted desperately to contribute to her world, yet she always felt that she didn’t quite measure up. This constant questioning of herself had to stem from her environment. Her environment told her that she was unworthy because she was a young African-American woman. She was bitterly aware of the race prejudice that suffocated her voice, and was deeply anguished over the wrongs inflicted on the African-American ethnic group. She yearned for the opportunity for her voice to be heard, to cry out at the injustices her ethnic group suffered at the hands of the dominant ethnic group. In this excerpt from her first journal, she expresses her indignation at American hypocrisy: And if resistance is offered to this outrage [slavery], these soldiers are to shoot down American citizens without mercy; and this by express orders of a government which proudly boasts of being the freest in the world; this on the very soil where the Revolution of 1776 began; in sight of the battlefield, where thousands of brave men fought and died in opposing British tyranny, which was nothing compared with American oppression of today. (page 66) Charlotte realized that until all Americans were afforded equal opportunity and protection under the Constitution of the United States, regardless of race or color, none were free. She quotes a speech from Mr. Andrew Foss, who spoke at an anti-slavery meeting she attended. Charlotte writes: “He said he was rejoiced that the people at the North were beginning to feel that slavery is no longer confined to the African-American man alone, but that they too must wear the yoke; and they are becoming roused on the subject at last.” (page 77) Charlotte’s voice speaks to me. I hear someone who feels what I have felt at times in my life. I hear someone who feels she can and must do her part to make the world a better place to live; to help to create a world that does not discriminate, hurt or kill. In Charlotte, I can hear my voice as I question the doctrines that have taught me that America is the land of the free, home of the brave–as long as you are not African-American. Whereas Charlotte yearned to be a part of the solution to the problems facing African-Americans; and in fact, did work as a part of the experiment on the sea islands off the coast of South Carolina, Mary Church Terrell dedicated her life to the challenges of living that African-Americans faced. Mary was a woman with a mission. She met the obstacles of life head on. She ventured forth to where no African-American or woman had gone before; places which were denied her on the double basis of her skin color and gender. Mary rightfully believed she should be allowed to develop to her fullest potential, that the barriers of sex and color were obstacles that should be challenged and removed. Like Charlotte, Mary came from a family that was financially secure and enjoyed a certain degree of prestige. She traveled extensively in Europe and was well versed in German and French. She was one of the fortunate few who had the opportunity for education. She embarked on a college career, taking courses that were generally reserved for men. Mary wanted to use her education to make a difference. She writes: “All during my college course I had dreamed of the day when I could promote the welfare of my race.” (page 60) Ironically, the times in which Mary lived offered her no other alternative. Despite her education and experience, jobs and opportunities for which she was more than qualified were denied her. Mary realized her relatively privileged existence meant nothing if she were not recognized as a full member of the society to which she was born. Consequently, Mary decided to dedicate her life to tearing down the walls of racism and sexism. Mary believed the most powerful weapons to destroy racism were education and truth. She used her voice to teach. She tells how “Every opportunity to address schools, colleges or universities was eagerly seized. I believed then as I do now that the only way to ’solve the problem’ is to appeal to the sense of justice in the white youth of the United States.” (page 172) Truth was needed when it came to the coverage that African-Americans received in the newspapers. This coverage negatively influenced popular European-American opinion. Mary addresses this issue at the American Missionary Society in Cleavlend, Ohio.

“…I accounted for this lack of interest [the North in helping African-Americans fight racism] by referring to the pernicious propaganda which had been waged against him for a long time and which had poisoned the mind of the North. “By continual exaggeration of the colored man’s vices,” I said, “by a studied suppression of the proofs of his marvellous advancement, by a malicious use of epithets, such as the scarecrow of social equality, the bugaboo of Negro domination and others which mislead and poison the public mind, the North has been persuaded by the colored man’s detractors that they are martyrs and that he is a brute.” (page 172) In Mary, I again found my words, ideals and struggles. I found her saying and doing things that I thought were my feelings exclusively. In the spring of 1991, I had delivered a paper as part of a panel at Stanford University in California. The title of my paper was “Growing up Black”. I include an excerpt from that paper to illustrate my point. I have heard and seen the statistics on the African-American youth in this country. The findings are pretty grim. There are more African-American males in prison than there are in college. African-American females have had, by percentage, more babies than any other ethno-group. The papers and the television tell me that there are more African-American youth in gangs. And they are giving the African-American students on your campus the same message. What I don’t see plastered all over the front page is the positive things about African-Americans. I don’t see equal time being given to the authors and the poets and the educators. And neither do the students on your campus. So it is up to you, it is up to me, it is up to anyone concerned with fostering positive self- image amongst the children that we teach, that we give them the positive images and role models. (”Multiculturalism and Institutions”, Stanford University, Spring 1991) Another woman who also took up the fight for the welfare of the African-American ethnic group was Ida B. Wells. Ida tackled the issues of racism and lynching with all the fervor and tenacity of a pit bull. She believed in justice. She believed that the wrongs committed against the African-American ethnic group should not go unnoticed. She cleverly used the newspaper accounts that the European-American press published to her own advantage. None could accuse Ida of inventing the discrimination or campaigns of terror used against African-Americans. Her material came from the pens of writers of the dominant ethnic group. Ida’s crusade was for the uplifting of the status of African-Americans, and she was determined expose all acts of degradation inflicted upon them. Hers was a mission of love and compassion. She wanted to protect. She was unafraid to fight, and was not intimidated by the fear tactics employed to keep African-Americans from achieving. Ida was ready to make the ultimate sacrifice: I felt I that one had better die fighting against injustice than to die like a dog in a trap. I had already determined to sell my life as dearly as possible if attacked. I felt if I could take one lyncher with me, this would even up the score a bit. (page 62) Ida’s voice resonated throughout the south. She caused African-Americans and European-Americans to take notice. Her voice commanded action. This is evident following the lynching of three African-American men in Memphis. “Thomas Moss, Calvin McDowell, and Henry Stewart owned and operated a grocery store in a thickly populated suburb.” (page 47) They were murdered because of the competition they gave to the European-American merchant across the road. In response to the stirring editorials Ida wrote in the newspaper Free Speech and Headlight, African-Americans began to leave Memphis in droves. She wrote: “There is nothing we can do about lynching now, as we are out-numbered and without arms. The white mob could help itself to ammunition without pay, but the order was rigidly enforced against the selling of guns to Negroes. There is therefore only one thing left we can do; save our money and leave a town which will neither protect our lives and property, nor give us a fair trial in the courts, but take us out and murder us when accused by white persons. (page 52) The European-Americans were also moved to action. After an editorial Ida wrote appeared in Commercial Appeal, “a committee of leading citizens” destroyed the offices of Free Speech and ran the business manager out of town. Ida used her voice to disseminate the information she uncovered. She was an incredible investigative reporter, and was dedicated to revealing the truth. Her voice informed and instructed the African-Americans as to how to demand what was rightfully theirs. Ida did not believe in compromise– she believed in absolute equality. By the time that Zora Neale Hurston came into her own, many of the barriers African-American women and men faced had begun to fall. More and more colleges had opened their doors to African-Americans, and although sparse, better opportunities were available. The journey for equality was well under way. With more avenues available to them, African-American women had choices. Zora was one of the African-American women who saw her chance and took it. Zora’s childhood was unique. Because she was raised in the all-African-American town of Eatonville, Florida, she escaped some of the harsher realities of racism. Early on, Zora proved to be an unusual child. She was intelligent and inquisitive. She recalls: “I was full of curiosity like many other children, and like them I was as unconscious of the sanctity of statuary as a flock of pigeons around a palace. I got few answers from other people, but kept right on asking, because I couldn’t do anything else with my feelings.” (page 26) Her voice celebrated her African-Americanness which was self-defined. She was one of the few who did not feel it was a curse to be born African-American. In her article titled “How it Feels to be Colored Me”, she writes: But I am not tragically colored. There is no great sorrow dammed up in my soul, nor lurking behind my eyes. I do not mind at all. I do not belong to the sobbing school of Negrohood who hold that nature has given them a lowdown dirty deal and whose feelings are all hurt about it. Even in the helter-skelter skirmish that is my life, I have seen that the world is to the strong regardless of a little pigmentation more or less. No, I do not weep at the world–I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife. Zora’s voice was creative. It was bold. It was beautiful. And it was definitely, positively African-American. It spoke of the rhythms of African-American expression, and held the expression up for show, like a trophy to be admired. Her voice was not a response, it was a calling. Her voice called for understanding and self actualization. She dreamed of something greater than just getting by. She wanted more than to work in the European-American people’s houses. This longing for self-definition set her apart. She writes: “I wanted what they [African-Americans] could not conceive of. I could not reveal myself for lack of expression, and then for lack of hope of understanding even if I could have found the words.” (page 86) Zora went on to fulfill her dreams. Working as an anthropologist under the guidance of Franz Boas, she brought the voices of African-American people to the world. But not the voices of oppression and pain, rather the voices of a proud and beautiful people, with a style and beauty all their own. She found the words she did not have in her youth, and wrote masterpieces of fiction and non-fiction that revealed African-American people in all their splendor. In Zora’s story I find the support I need to be who and what I am without apology. Her voice is mine when it declares “I will be who I am in my own right, and not with your permission.” All five women were radically ahead of their times. Their words make perfect sense by today’s standards; yet in their times they were out of the norm. They had a place that they were supposed to occupy, yet they courageously refused to do so. Their voices called for truth and justice, and they sought to secure equality and equal representation for African-American people. Because of the voices of women like Harriet, Charlotte, Mary, Ida and Zora, calling out for the rights of African-Americans, I grew up not “knowing my place.” I grew up not knowing the traditional roles I was supposed to play as a African-American and as a woman. I didn’t know I was supposed to feel less intelligent. I didn’t know I was supposed to feel less than. Their voices secured the right for my voice to be heard.

Grimke, Charlotte Forten. The Journals of Charlotte Forten Grimke. Ed. Brenda Stevenson. New York, New York: Oxford University Press, 1988 Hoffert, Sylvia. “This ‘One Great Evil’.” American History Illustrated, Volume 12, Number 2, May 1977, pp. 37 – 41 Hurston, Zora Neale. Dust Tracks on a Road. Series Ed. Henry Louis Gates, Jr. New York, New York: HarperPerennial, 1991 —–. “How it Feels to be Colored Me.” World Tomorrow, 1928 Jacobs, Harriet. Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, Written by Herself. Ed. Jean Fagan Yellin. Cambridge, Massachusetts and London, England: Harvard University Press, 1987 Terrell, Mary Church. A Colored Woman in a White World. Salem, New Hampshire: Ayer Company, Publishers, Inc, 1992 Wells, Ida B. Crusade for Justice. Ed. Alfreda M. Duster. Chicago, Illinois: The University of Chicago Press, 1972