NEWS OF THE DAY: THE SLAVE SHIP CLOTILDA AND JAMES BALDWIN

The slave ship Clotilda has been found in Alabama, upriver from Mobile near a place called Twelvemile Island, submerged just five feet under water.  There had been a Federal ban on importing enslaved peoples since 1808, punishable by hanging. But a steamship owner, Timothy Meaher, made a wager he could import human beings despite the ban.  In 1860 he brought 110 kidnapped West Africans, men, women and children, to the heart of cotton country where they joined some 435,000 enslaved people residing in the state of Alabama.  The passage took 45 days.  Then, because the transport was illegal, the ship was burned and sunk. 

Some five years later at the end of the Civil War and after Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation, the Africans established Africatown as a thriving community.  It is moving to read about this town's history and the people who live there today.  Some are hopeful that the discovery of the Clotilda, the last slave ship to reach America, lying now underwater in a few feet of mud, could make the town a history hub like Jamestown, Virginia.  Everyone agrees that validation of the town's oral history is to be celebrated. 

The article I chose to read about this subject is in the New York Times.  But Google News, the Washington Post,  the Daily Mail, news media world-wide are reporting on the finding of this "Ship of Horror." It is a sobering thing.  Last year I went to Birmingham and Selma (Posts: "This is Your Kingdom," 6/25/18, 628/18) and saw the sites where black people were confined and auctioned. I was born in St. Louis and learned early about the Dred Scott case (1857, www.history.com), where the Supreme Court held that no black, free or slave, could be a US citizen or sue for freedom. But I had not heard of the ship Clotilda.  

Why did it bring James Baldwin (1924-1987) to mind? Sometimes we can miss the profundity of those long gone.  I thought of this Baldwin quote,

"You think your pain and your heartbreak

are unprecedented in the history of the world,

but then you read." 

The quote applies to his own work as well.  We may think our pain and heartbreak are unprecedented but then we read Another Country or Notes of a Native Son, Go Tell it on the Mountain or The Fire Next Time.  Or we may need inspiration and turn to these books.  Reading for Baldwin stands for learning, connecting, human heart to human heart.  We learn by listening as well, through stories told to us, or through great music (think Puccini, Madame Butterfly or La Boheme).  There are many roads to connection.  

I haven't read a book about the Clotilda, I merely came across an article in my morning news feed.  Then I researched, not in books but online--a source not available to writers and readers of Baldwin's generation.  It brought up pain and heartbreak.  Imagine the terror of being kidnapped, 45 days in that hold, and the life to follow. 

Baldwin also said, 

"It was books that taught me that the things that tormented me most

were the very things that connected me with all the people

who were alive, who had ever been alive.

. . . 

I often wonder what I'd do if there weren't any books in the world." 

I am not comparing the daily news with great literature--although I read insightful and important articles every day.  But we can remind ourselves that knowledge is important for its own sake.  Knowing more, even about the sad history of Alabama, makes our world richer, our minds keener, our empathy for others stronger.  The more we know about things that matter, the more we will think about things that matter.  And the more we ponder things that matter, the greater the likelihood we can better the world in our own small (or large) way. It's a kind of cascade isn't it?  

I hope the ship is raised and displayed if the townspeople want, that it brings notice to the town, that it is used to educate.  Martin Luther King once said, "The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice." Finding this ship could be part of that arc.  No wonder the world is interested in its discovery.     

              

Nina Naomi

 

SUMMER COZY COMIN' UP

When I was a child our local movie theatre had a sign that read "It's Cold Inside," snow-capped letters in icicle-blue.  This was the draw--keep the kids entertained in icy comfort with a candy bar and a movie.  Frozen Zero bars were a favorite.  By the time I had children those signs were gone.  Now every building I enter is cold, freezing sometimes.  Workers keep jackets, sweaters and even blankets at the office during the summer.  People eat al fresco at restaurants partly to avoid the air conditioning.  Without even getting into the waste of energy, not everyone enjoys recirculating air, winter or summer.  Some of us open our windows whenever the temperature allows. We work outdoors if we can.  We're not adverse to the heat, a good sweat followed by a warm shower.  Not bad.  What's best about summer seems to be the feeling of freedom.  Cooler clothes, ocean swimming, fruity drinks, casual get-togethers, more flexible schedules, vacations . . . lots of loose ends we make the most of.  

But summer is also a good time for cozy, that feeling of being hugged, being wrapped in comfort.  bella GRACE (BELLAGRACEMAGAZINE.COM), a magazine I tout from time to time (theme:  "Life's a Beautiful Journey"), loves lists.  The editors invite people to submit them for publication, lists like "My Flaws Worth Loving and Embracing" or "Small but Significant Reasons to be Grateful."  Nice prompts meant, I think, to help us with our fears, our dreams and our inspiration.  Because I don't want to give up the coziness of winter as spring blooms into the North Carolina summer, I've made my own list for Summer Cozy.  See what you'd add. 

• Picnics on blankets are cozy.
• Cotton sweaters are cozy.
• Late night walks (and cotton sweaters) are cozy.
• Sweatshirts after a swim are cozy.
• Anything after a swim--beach towels, pullovers, blanket-flopping. . . .
• The hot summer sun on our skin is cozy.
• Hot dogs over a fire, steamed clams, jacket potatoes, roasted corn, whatever we cook outdoors is cozy.
• S'mores are cozy, anything chocolate is cozy. 
• Crowding around an outdoor table.
• Porch-sleeping.
• Sleeping-bags are cozy, alone or together.
• Lolling in bed on a morning off is cozy.
• Eating pancakes.
• Snuggling on the couch with your children, or grandchildren.
• My maltipoo fresh from his bath is cozy, dry from rug-wiggling.

Isn't it funny how free and cozy can meld into one mood, one happy atmosphere, one lucky day? I'm not wishing away the spring.  It's too lovely and we've waited for it for months.  Just taking a minute to think about what's coming and how much there will be to enjoy. 
 
 
 
 

THINKING HEALTHIER

I just completed my 3-day Urban Retreat.  It was at Duke Integrative Medicine, down the road from me.  A peaceful center with trails, fountains, rock piles, Quiet Rooms, labyrinths . . . .

We spent 3 days mostly in silence.  I never thought I could do that.  Partway through, during a sharing time, one member said, "Meditation is simple but not easy."  AMEN to that!  I love the mindfulness.  Being present in a non-judgmental way.  Stepping back when thoughts become difficult (intrusive thoughts--the reason I got into this in the first place) and observing.  "Now I am thinking X."  Sometimes I say, "Now I am thinking this thought that is wasting my time."  Not sure how non-judgmental that is, but it definitely gives me perspective.  

We also practiced bringing kind awareness to our thoughts or worries and letting them be--without analyzing, suppressing or encouraging, just letting them run their course.  Shortly they will be replaced by other thoughts and other emotions, maybe pleasant ones.  After all, our mind spends its day thinking.  

One way to think of mindfulness is as prioritizing.  None of us has much problem prioritizing work and family, some days work gets more attention, some days family.  But some experts say that being good to ourselves is a prerequisite to everything else.  Not hedonism or self-indulgence, but self-compassion. Surely nothing in God's Word tells us otherwise. It is not hard to see that being kind to ourselves would be pleasing to God. And that self-acceptance is part of our journey of faith. 

If we treat ourselves as kindly as we do our children or a good friend or even a loved pet, we're also in a way fostering our independence.  I like that idea.  If we can self-soothe--maybe sing to our self, read the Psalms, make our self a warm drink or even rock our self to sleep--it's like being our own care-giver.  

On the retreat we also practiced meditative walking.  Walking and the Lord's Prayer go hand-in-hand quite nicely.  I tried that when walking the labyrinth, then added other prayers.  Or saying the Rosary if you are Catholic.  Or just reciting your gratitude list.  

I've found other repetitive tasks where I can meditate as well.  Sweeping is one, long strokes back and forth on the deck, drive and patio.  Or raking.  Many outside chores. Cooking too--chopping, stirring, kneading, patting, pounding.  My mom used to pat her meatloaf gently, like you would a baby's bottom. I can see her doing it. 

 
I feel like these practices can help us have a healthier mind. And maybe help us be more fruitful in our Christian life. What do you think?