J.

J. is one of two African Americans in a very awkward ceremony to commemorate John Henry, a famous black folk hero. He is a New York journalist, but he's going into the situation half-heartedly, knowing that his article will short and that he could probably finish it with only basic superficial knowledge. The environment is painfully artificial. There appears to be some genuine effort to bring the building into some semblance of antebellum grandeur, but resistance against modernity is futile. The people at the ceremony are basically divided into two groups: locals and outsiders. Locals adhere themselves to their familiars in a blue-ribbon display of Southern Hospitality, and the visitors either chat amongst themselves or avoid eye contact in an attempt to appear content with solitude. Basically, no one is taking interest in the ceremony itself. It is merely a formality that goes along with the artificial affirmation of African American heritage.

Walter's Decision

Walter's decision was by no means an easy choice. Obviously living in an all-white neighborhood would have its social consequences, but even beside that, money would end up being a future issue. Just because the family can afford the down payment doesn't mean that they will be able to continue putting up the rent.

Of course my first impulse is to agree with the decision, but it's really too complex for me to take a stance. I think that from a civil rights and pride perspective, it was essential for Walter not to let the neighborhood association buy him out of the house. However, I question the family's ability to afford the house. I agree that Walter shouldn't have taken the money, but perhaps it may have been a better choice to take that money and buy a smaller, more affordable house. I think that they had every right to choose the location of their house, regardless of the neighborhood demographic, but it could also be extremely dangerous to live in an area claimed by white people. Change only happens when people act, but the response of the people already living there could result in a lot of excess stress placed upon a family whose ties are already strained, even if no real violence occurred. I can't tell if this decision was a magic cure-all from Walter's perspective, but if it was, I don't think it would work. I don't know if moving into the house was the right decision, but it was a decision, and one had to be made.

I'm not expecting a positive future for the Younger family. Their relations were already worn pretty thin, and they are entering an extremely stressful situation. I don't necessarily expect violence from the people in the white neighborhood, but pressure is likely. Also, Walter's obsession seemed irrevocable, to me. That kind of madness doesn't just slide off like a piece of clothing that's been worn for too long. I doubt that if he discovers some kind of new found love for his wife that it will stick because of the future financial burdens, and they will all probably have to start working more if they plan on keeping the house. Mama's working may keep her from the garden she wanted.

The Soul, According to Du Bois

A Veil divides the world of the white from the world of the black. The Veil divides more than color; it splits the varying degrees of acceptance, freedom, and prosperity. The Veil cuts the "souls if black folk" in half. A part stays rooted into heritage while another part longs to agree to an unfair compromise just to get a glimpse of the other side of the Veil.

The split soul was formed over time. African traditions were broken down, and replaced by a corrupted form of Christianity. This was fed to African Americans with discretion. It was used to propagate the idea of slavery, promising the soul an eternity of salvation to follow an inevitable lifetime of suffering. It resigns the individual, and thus the soul, to submission. As time went on, Christianity was warped by the slaves into something to inspire and bring hope. The soul sprouted wings even while the ankles were in chains. Their souls became defined by their faith.

With abolition, the spirituality of African Americans was consummated; if abolition was the coming of the lord, he came. Spirituality was maintained, but the souls were not joined by the common bond of slavery any longer. Divisions were made within the African American community that caused the souls themselves to divide. Some longed for recognition from whites, others wanted to express themselves freely as individuals. Most wanted a combination of the two. In the world of the "negro problem," it would be impossible for a soul to be whole.

Ethics

My stagnant ethics are pretty basic. Don't intentionally hurt people. Don't waste. These are things that my parents have taught me since birth. However, much of my ethical system is dependent purely on given circumstances. Don't steal-unless you're going to starve to death if you don't take that loaf of bread. Don't lie-unless the truth is devastating, and even then, there are degrees of deception. Knowing what is acceptable is learned through experience and observation. It is simply processing data and analyzing it to find the most ethical and most effective solution. Ethics are simply a 3-dimensional graph: costs vs. rewards vs. state of affairs. It is not a collection of scientific evidence because everything is subjective, but one graph typically holds to one person.

My dad taught me about ethics in kind of a non-conventional manner. Whenever I presented to him my opinion, he would argue the opposite view, regardless of his own beliefs. These debates would stretch on for days until I could finally gather enough information from research to support my side. It wasn't until my Freshman year that I realized what he was doing. To this day, I don't know what he really thinks about many issues. He tries not to disrupt my development of my own system of ethics.

Outside of home, my friends and my books are probably the most influential to me. I learn from my friends' experiences, and their reactions to certain behaviors often determine what is acceptable in the normal world. That is the kind of socialization to which all children are sensitive from very early ages. Reading books written from a diverse group of authors has helped me to refine my system of ethics. They have provided me with the foundation of my current religious beliefs. They led me to the conclusion that all members of the animal kingdom are linked, giving me reason to stop eating meat. From books, I learned about the earth, and how beautiful it truly is.

Cooperation and Sticking Put

Booker T. Washington proposes that the only way for any change to take place in the South is for everyone to stay put and try to live full and happy lives. If there were a mass exodus of the newly freed African Americans, the the Southern white man would have no reason to change his way of thinking. The Southern white man needs to see for himself that African Americans can be dull or intelligent, lazy or hardworking, just as white people can. It has to do with the individual, not the race. As evidence for the plausible success of this, he discusses how he, a black man, was nominated to lead inspection of schools, both black and white, by a group of Southern white men. Washington argues that this transition has to be witnessed and processed with the natural course of time, not forced by a Northern out-group. This cannot happen if there are no African Americans to behave as examples.

Booker T. Washington asks Southern African Americans not to turn their foci to political or social change. Pressure would only turn Southern whites away from the idea, just as Northern interference would. However, if Southern African Americans turn their attention toward learning mundane trades, like farming, they would be able to work their ways up the social ladder. Washington explains that success within a family takes precedence over political change, and this can be done without migrating North. Interactions with white people in the South should be cordial and cooperative-instead of boycotting the vote, ask of white neighbors their advice in voting.

Cooperation. That is what Booker T. Washington advises, and it is only possible if there are two parties present to exchange dialogue. That is why Southern African Americans should stay in the South.

Loathe Largesse

The ladies have determined that they want to give money to the poor. However, they don't want to be exposed to too much. Too much pain, too much grime, too much anger, too much ugliness. Too much. The are proper ladies. High-society ladies. Ladies who were cosseted by proper, high-society mothers. They don't understand the gravity of poverty; they are doing what respectable young ladies do.

When they see the poor, the ladies see them as unfortunate wretches. The ladies believe that they are bestowing wonders upon the pitiful. This largesse that they dispense is a handout. A "here you go, you poor little soul, you" kind of handout. The ladies view themselves as superior angels, sent from the heavens to offer relief.

The recipients of this largesse see the truth. The ladies are ignorant, free of care from troubles like having to use a newspaper as a floor-covering. They go through rituals of self-flattery by troubling themselves with this missionary endeavor, but they decline to bear witness to the truly down-trodden. Instead, they seek out those who are troubled but have tolerable presence. Their condescending manner is more insulting than if they ignored poverty on principle. It is as Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote in Letter from Birmingham Jail, "Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection."

The largesse is "loathe" by all parties involved. The recipients loathe the ladies for being conceited enough to think that their half-hearted attempts at charity were enough to qualify as authentic generosity. Negligence would be better than empty "love." The ladies themselves loathe to be immersed in the nasty life of the impoverished and its absence of niceties. To escape, they turn to the "worthy" poor, and when that is done, they retreat back to their cars.

Radical Craftivism

It was Sunday morning at 7:00 am about a week before my freshman year of high school. My dad and I were standing in line at the checkout in Walmart. Glancing at the cart, I made some observations (my OCD came in handy for the numbers). School supplies for my sister and me: 10 notebooks, 2 boxes with 24 pens each, three fresh binders, a package of erasers, two assignment books, and two reams of paper (not recycled). Moving on to the groceries, every bit of produce had its own plastic wrapping. Eggs and meat were in styrofoam covered with saran wrap. A Costco- sized package of paper towels crowded the 32-pack of water bottles, and have you ever looked at the ingredients on toilet cleaner? Every item in the entire cart was wasteful and unnatural. This was my epiphany; I had to learn to take care of myself in a world that honors the artificial.

I started with simple things. I planted a vegetable garden and committed myself to wearing my clothes until they were nothing but loosely woven threads. This way I could avoid paying companies to use unhealthy means of growing food and wrap their veggies in non-renewable resources. There was nothing that could be done about the clothes I already owned, but I could put an end to needless purchases. I stopped eating meat to become a direct consumer. My transition into becoming self-sufficient was at first almost entirely motivated by becoming more eco-friendly.

Eventually, though, my clothes wore out. My shoes smelled so bad that I was required to leave them on the porch. My mother insisted that I needed new jewelry. Everything was centered on the idea of making purchases at large corporations, who had bought the product from someone who had paid small Somalian children a dollar per week to make the product. Consumerism disgusted me. Self-sufficiency became more than being environmentally responsible. It was the only ethical choice for me.

I didn't feel the needle pierce my thumb when I sewed my first pillow. It wasn't until I finished that I noticed my hand was stuck to my project and bleeding on the white fabric. Fixing that was endlessly frustrating, and believe me, it was followed my some pretty disastrous projects. However, I began to cultivate my skills. I made my own clothes, pillow cases, little stuffed things for gifts, ext. For everything I made, I got the fabric from shirts that were just going to be thrown away. I stitched patterns and made jewelry that reflected my own identity, creating truly unique things without giving a cent to corporate America.

I believe in absolute independence. I wouldn't say I'm ready to march of into the world wagging a middle finger at society yet, but I think that there are too many people in the world who talk about self-sufficiency without ever achieving it. You have to be able to make a choice without having to compromise your own set of ethics. That's why I make things; I know where every resource involved came from and that no one was hurt so that I could have it. Plus, it's economically and environmentally sound.