Black History Reflection

by JOE CIURLIK

As I sat and began my preparation I had many thoughts crossing my mind about how I could approach the topic of Black History month and the Catholic Church.  I have to admit, that my task became much more difficult following the eloquent words of wisdom presented last week.  At first the teacher in me pondered how I would approach this topic with my students.  I know that I would have them read, write, and reflect on the topic, yet although I encourage you to read, write, and reflect on this topic, now is not the time nor place.

Next I thought about why I wanted to present today.  I came up with many reasons…

I thought of how I passionately I love to teach the story of Civil Rights… a story, as Tim Tyson observed in Blood Done Sign My Name that often told as  “sugar-coated confections” that offer outright lies about most white Americans’ responses to the freedom movement instead of reminding us how profoundly it challenged American practices of justice and democracy” (106).  I take great pride when students share their reactions to exploring what I like to call the “other civil rights” movement in profound reflections that move me to tears.

I thought of how, as Jesus provided the lead for shaping both a global and my personal understanding of social justice, so too did Dr. King, Rosa Parks, and James Baldwin.  I am reminded, however, that just as Brother Jerry seeks to inspire each of us to become personal ambassadors for God’s vision, the CRM is full of lesser-known individuals who followed both the message of Jesus and the leaders of the movement.  I am reminded of 15 year Claudette Colvin who was arrested months before Rosa Parks for refusing to give up her seat on a Montgomery bus.  Or of the story of Harry Briggs Jr., one of several students who challenged school sponsored segregation.  I am reminded that despite the fact that I have revisited the story of Dr. Kenneth Clark’s sociological experiments in Clarendon County, South Carolina I still am angered and terribly saddened when a child’s sense of self worth is so damaged by the society they inhabit.

I thought of the opening chapter of in Michelle Alexander’s new book, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness.  Alexander writes:

Jarvious Cotton cannot vote. Like his father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and great-great-grandfather, he has been denied the right to participate in our electoral democracy. Cotton’s family tree tells the story of several generations of black men who were born in the United States but who were denied the most basic freedom that democracy promises—the freedom to vote for those who will make the rules and laws that govern one’s life. Cotton’s great-great-grandfather could not vote as a   slave. His great-grandfather was beaten to death by the Ku Klux Klan for attempting      to vote. His grandfather was prevented from voting by Klan intimidation. His father was barred from voting by poll taxes and literacy tests. Today, Jarvious Cotton cannot vote because he, like many black men in the United States, has been labeled a felon and is currently on parole.

And my sense of right and wrong is evoked and I want to share with everyone these stories and how we need to affect change.

The more I thought about what I wanted to say, the more I came back to the conclusion that maybe I do not have much I can say.  I struggled for weeks with this notion because I kept asking myself, what can a white, male who lives a comfortable suburban life who finds himself struggling with faith have to say to a parish so ethnically diverse, spiritually rich, and socially just?  What I came back to is the teacher in me.  I reminded myself, as I remind my students there some things in history I cannot teach you.  I cannot teach students what it was like to experience, slavery, or economic depression, or injustice.  I can only describe the conditions of an event in the hope that you gain some insight or understanding.  Father Patrick Tuttle, a Franciscan from South Carolina wrote in his season reflection on Black History month:

Many individuals claim to know Black life without ever "sitting with." There is no credibility in claiming to truly know the black community unless they know you.  You must come and see, but even more importantly, you have to simply sit down, to observe, to learn, to pick up the genius, and to maybe even change.

I decided to follow his advice write my own personal “I am” poem:

I am one person who does not have many answers, but lots of questions

I wonder how I can change the many wrongs I see in society

I hear the silence of that society

I see too many not judged by the content of their character

I am ashamed of my nation’s history

I pretend that I am doing enough to affect change, yet

I feel moved when I see the poverty of my son’s classmates

I touch student’s hearts with the lessons I present, yet

I worry that the tidal wave of their environment will drown out those heart-felt feelings

I cry when I see so much need and want in communities surrounded by affluence

I am going affect change

I understand that there must be observation and learning before change

I say, come and see with me

I dream … I dream…. I dream

I try to find more answers

I hope that hope dies last

I am part of the solution.

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