My last name is Bowie. I am a descendant of James Bowie, An American Pioneer, The first to behold The Bowie Knife, who had an Impactful role in the American Revolution but was also, known as a slave trader. While older white men think this is awesome, I face embarrassment and anxiety around the subject because of the involvement with slavery. I know many people in the U.S.A. have ancestors who owned slaves, but I never want accusations made about myself no matter how long ago– even though the Jim Crow laws were truthfully not that long ago in history.
As a white girl in the 70s and 80s South, older Black men stepped out of my way on downtown sidewalks. I didn’t understand that Jim Crow only ended in 1964, and they feared being killed because of me.
The Black Liberation struggle did not go far enough — did not uproot oppression, disassemble power structures, create a new state power of the people — did not make revolution. We are seeing how all the successes of these past struggles have been reduced and reversed, and the situation is now worse. We can emancipate all of humanity, through revolution.
Knowledge is power. Beyond the emotion we all benefit from studying the real history of race in America and the world. Too often we shy away from the realities of the European slave economy, Reconstruction, Eugenics, Jim Crow, and the current Prison-Industrial-Complex. Blind is blind no matter how you look at it. Thanks for a great project.
The Constitution never really abolished slavery, anything with a loophole, never closes the loop. (Black Codes, Jim Crow, Mass Incarceration, George Floyd.) How can something be abolished if the remnants still exist?
I participated in the March on Washington in 1963. I was 18 and home on leave from the Air Force. My most enduring memory of the March was a conversation I had with an older man on the train ride from Pittsburgh to Washington the night before. He told me that when he was in the Army in the Jim Crow South during World War II, he witnessed the murder of another black soldier. He was powerless to do anything about it at that time, but the March finally gave him an opportunity to protest the killing.
I had been based in Texas where I was subjected to racial discrimination. The March was also means for me to stand up against racism. Below is my short remembrance of that time. Stood-Up-at-March
I used to be colorblind. I was taught all about equality. I wasn’t even allowed to say black or white. Sounds great right? At the same time society was feeding me prejudice, but under the guise as “calling it as one sees it”. It was hearing the “I’m not racist, but…” followed by some sort of racist prejudice or stereotype. It was very confusing but I didn’t know any better. I had no clue about BLM and even did the same knee-jerk All Lives Matter response as other whites. But the more I heard about BLM and the cry for equal justice and treatment in society, the more I felt that my colorblindness was preventing me from seeing something. I decided to figure this whole thing out. I wanted to clearly listen to the black community so I attended a college lecture put on by black scholars and black community leaders about BLM. My mind was blown. I was sitting in a sea of white faces, me included, listening to a side of life I never heard of. Whites just like myself were asking the most innocent and daring questions to figure out BLM and racism, it was all new to me. It changed my life. Since then I have attended more lectures, attended workshops on how to talk about racism, and have read stacks of books on the topic and it’s various aspects. I am now fully aware of the hidden nasty racist things about our nation’s past that are not taught or talked about in school/society; I learned how all these hidden truths of the past have shaped today; I can now see racism still at work in our nation. We traded open racism such as segregation and Jim Crow laws for colorblindness in order to continue racism under another name. I now have had very long conversations with friends, family, coworkers, and strangers about racism. Some of the conversations and dialogue are constructive, some end in an impasse, and other conversations go completely sideways. Being white, I feel the responsibility to teach my fellow whites about racism. To engage in dialogue and educate about racism, I now listen for subtle or not so subtle clues of racism during conversations. Never in a million years would I have known that this white introvert would stand up against racism and engage another person in racial conversation. Sadly, I have learned that white Americans need lots of help and education. Many have colorblindness and don’t know there is an issue and some don’t care to learn. It’s exhausting, and at times frustrating, to tell someone about a problem that they don’t believe exists. …and then there are those who harbor and promote racist thoughts. Sigh.
I did not choose my race. No one did. I was born into a world with preconceived notions about my race and others. We all were. I entered a world with plenty of recorded and unrecorded history. We all did. I cannot account for any of the history that predates me. No one can. And so, I cannot be given credit for nor can I be condemned for the circumstances that I was born into. And the same can be said for everyone. I was not born a slave; even if my ancestors were up to a certain point in time. And so, I cannot say in earnest that I know what it means to be a slave. I was not born during the Jim Crow era. Despite the fact that my parents were; I cannot say in earnest that I know what it means to be economically, socially and politically disenfranchised and unequally protected by the law. The world that I have been born into is not perfect. And the society that I was born into is not completely fair; but, it is far more fair than it was at its beginning.
Now that I am here, I am accountable for my choices and for my actions; as we all are. So, it really doesn’t matter that I didn’t have a choice about my looks, my race, nor the surroundings that I was born into; because I have limitless choices when it comes to how I process the good and the bad, the struggles and the challenges and the goodwill and ill-will. I can choose to be a part of the problem or I can choose to be part of the solution. Being part of the solution means being that which I desire to see in the world. I cannot entertain spite, resentment and hostility when dealing with bad, the challenging and those of ill-will. Reciprocating these things will only perpetuate the problems we all face. I choose to work to develop myself, to encourage others, to seek justice for the wrongs that currently exist. With respect to the past, I prefer to learn from it not live in it. With respect to the future, I prefer to treat it like it truly matters. And this means putting my present time to its best use. There are specific ways that I am doing this. For example, I strive daily to be the best father I can to my 11 year old son. This effort requires being a role model, a proponent of self-development and a humble student of life. I am Black. But I pride myself in being a part of the solution which means producing value that benefits me and the world around me.
My mother, Dr. Willa Lowe was one of the first black English teachers in several high schools in New Jersey, Washington, DC and Ohio. She was part of that first wave of school integration in which talented African American teachers were hired before African American students were admitted. She was born in the Jim Crow South and ended her career as a college professor at an HBCU. Mom is in her eighties and ready to talk. I need to interview her NOW!
How Jim Crow Practiced Paper Genocide Against Native American Indians.
Jim Crow laws were a set of oppressive laws that reclassified Native American Indians into the category of Colored.
Jim Crow reached their greatest influence during the decades of 1910, 1920, and 1930.
Among them were hypodescent laws, defining as black anyone with suspected black ancestry, or even those with a very small portion of black ancestry. Tennessee adopted such a “one-drop” statute in 1910, and Louisiana soon followed. Then Texas and Arkansas in 1911, Mississippi in 1917, North Carolina in 1923.
Fact: the State of North Carolina vital records began using the one drop rule law in labeling Indians Colored BEFORE Walter Plecker initiated it in Virginia.
Birth records were also “delayed” in states enforcing the one drop rule, they were filed late to make these oppressive racial changes. The Virginia law which allowed for delayed birth registration declared its own purpose differently; its formal title was “An Act to Preserve Racial Integrity,”and it went into effect in 1924, this also occurred in North Carolina as well as in other states. Virginia began the one drop rule in 1924, Alabama and Georgia in 1927, and Oklahoma in 1931.
During this same period, Florida, Indiana, Kentucky, Maryland, Missouri, Nebraska, North Dakota, and Utah retained their old “blood fraction” statutes de jure, but amended these fractions (one-sixteenth, one-thirty-second) to be equivalent to one-drop de facto.
The one drop rule was overturned in 1967 by the U.S. Supreme Court, the one drop rule is illegal.
But before this time many Native American Indians were not allowed by law to claim a legal status as Indian due to white vital records officials and census takers enforcing the one drop rule and through government records suppressed an Indians Native blood ancestry on official documents. So when people ask why didn’t Natives have records changed back to Indian?
A law prevented this from being done, and any Indian born before 1967 who wasn’t living on a government regulated Indian reservation, or in a community with a massive Indian population was forcefully listed as Colored by vital records offices.
We are not Black We are not White We Are Not Latino
On August 14, 1973 three black children from Atlanta, GA drowned in Waveland, Mississippi. Eyewitnesses reported that the children had been harassed by white boaters, The coroner’s jury closed the case without investigation the following day. Because of Jim Crow mortuary policies, locating a funeral director who would deal with African-Americans was a problem.
This question was on my mind recently, when I wrote an article for Virginia Quarterly Review about Confederate reenactors at the 150th anniversary of Gettysburg. I don’t actually have any Confederate ancestors I’m aware of, but most of the reenactors do. All of the reenactors I talked to considered slavery to be an abomination, considered Jim Crow to be evil, and espoused no prejudice against people of color. But, they feel a powerful connection to the Confederacy because of their heritage; because their great-great-great-grandfather marched up a hill in Gettysburg or some other battlefield and watched his friends get shot, or got shot himself. They’re proud of their forebears. They imagine their ancestors as brave and noble people, and say things like “Those boys weren’t fighting for slavery, they were fighting for state’s rights and freedom”. And in certain individual cases, they might be correct, even if the Confederacy collectively fought to preserve slavery.
Historical arguments aside, if white southerners wish to oppose racism today, what responsibilities do they have toward the past? Must they forget or renounce their Confederate ancestors? Is there a way they can honor their memory and the vastness of their sacrifice, while still acknowledging the racism of the 19th century South, and the horrors of slavery?
Listen to Jesse Dukes’ story NPR’s Morning Edition.
Being a black male in America is complex. Not only do we have to fight systemic racism, we also have to overcome various obstacles that present themselves in our in communities. One example of systemic racism is what we’ve recently been witnessing from police officers murdering people of color and getting away with it. All of these cases are deemed justified because the victim was a so-called “thug” or labeled as an “aggressive man-child”. It is sickening how the media portrays the African American male as aggressive and violent. Another example of systemic racism that you have to face while being black in America is seen in the current prison system. In her book The New Jim Crow, Michelle Alexander describes how the current justice system is almost identical to that of the Jim Crow System.
Outside of these external forces, as a black male, you have to navigate the negative poison of your own community. These negative influences include opposition from a large influx of gangs and drugs that infest most black neighborhoods.
I don’t think I’m racist, in my day to day life I interact with black people a lot actually and have never once had a problem. I also know that we have systematic problems, stemming from slavery, Jim Crow, etc. that still need to be dealt with. But are these the qualifications for not being racist? Or is it deeper than that? Because I have some mildly racist parents, and knowing a bit about how kids pick up social, economic, and political beliefs from there parents, is it possibly that I’m racist without even knowing it? Because like I said I’d like to think I’m not racist but how can I tell ya’ know? That seems like something a black person would have to evaluate me on. But then is it ignorant to believe that only a black person can tell? I don’t know honestly race just brings up so many confusing questions it’s like a f’n minefield. I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t know if racism is something that can be understood the same way by everybody or if you really have to have experienced it to know what it is. I like to think I know what racism is but that also just sounds pretentious coming from a middle class white kid.
I and others in our late 50s and up are members of the last generation of children to grow up under the “Jim Crow” legal system that required EVERY white person to discriminate against EVERY black person, whether or not they were racist. This extreme inequality left a residue that caused us not to immediately “see” another person, but to first see what we thought the other person’s race represented. We could see people from different races doing the same thing and think two very different thoughts about them.
We are the children whose relatives were lynched or shot and we are also the children whose parents did the lynchings and shootings. We are the children harassed while integrating white schools and we are also the children who did the harassing or whose parents funded lawyers to maintain an inferior education for some. We are the children whose parents’ livelihood and reputation were destroyed via the media and we are also the children whose parents wrote and spoke to move the masses to hate in order to achieve personal agendas. We are the children of almost a whole state of black parents who lost their right to vote in a single year and we are the children who as adults have applied their parents’ tactics into gutting the Voting Rights Act this year. We are the children who feared the fiery cross and we are also the children who stood hand in hand with our fathers encircling the cross. We are the children who may have never gone to school with anyone of the opposite race. Now we work side by side and we (and those we mentor) teach and supervise and make employment decisions, we are jurors and judges, and we set policy and political agendas. After all, we are of the age to be in charge, to set direction for others, but for many, our childhood Jim Crow foundation still frames our world view because we failed to challenge (or even acknowledge) what Jim Crow taught all of us and what has become a part of our automatic response system.
WE CAN’T SOLVE WHAT WE ARE UNWILLING TO ACKNOWLEDGE OR CONFRONT.
I’m frustrated. Very much so. There is a lot of hypocrisy and cognitive dissonance, especially within my race – Caucasian. I wish so much for everyone to open their eyes, minds, and hearts to the plight of others. To recognize that the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s didn’t eradicate the inherent racism or the inherent oppression. As an example, it’s “common knowledge” that “blacks don’t know how to swim.” But they don’t think for a moment about how the members of the black community were BANNED from using swimming pools for a long time. Once they were allowed to share pools, the white folks up and left – they didn’t want black men sharing the same water as their white women. It’s frustrating that people who lived during that time, who experienced the hatred and racism of that time (including some who were down in the lower states where Jim Crow ruled), don’t see it. I feel like I’m walking up hill in sand…but I’m going to keep trudging along. Maybe I’ll make it to the peak one day.
This is a fantastic project. For some time I have been trying to come with my 6 words but I’ve struggled. Not sure what happened but as I was listening to a segment on Morning Edition, regarding the March on Washington commemoration, it just came to me. I was born in 1962 and I believe my generation was the first to brought up without the vestiges of Jim Crow. I grew up in mostly black community and attending a historically black university. Upon graduation I was commissioned as an officer in the United States Navy. All of my life I had been giving the talk by my elders and teachers but had never really faced outright racism. It wasn’t until I was aboard ship that I ran smack into it. I don’t want to go into detail but needless that, yes racism still exist and it is truly painful when it happens to you.
If we really want to confront racism and eradicate it, we need to be taught an accurate history of this country’s racist practices. Racism wasn’t just the genocide of the Natives, slavery, or Jim Crow. It was redlining and eugenics and the discoveries of pseudo-science.
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Paper Genocide,
Joseph Brown,
