Mama’s Garden

Posted on March 13, 2013 by Leslye "JOY" Allen

by Leslye Joy Allen

Historian, Educator, Theatre and Jazz Advocate, Doctoral Student

Cherry Tomatoes Plant (available from: Public-Domain-Image.com)

“If you plant it in the earth, give it just enough sunlight, just enough water, and just enough nurturing, it will yield something.” – Syble Allen Williams (1921 -2013)

Now, when I think of teaching, I think about my Mama’s gardens and the first time I read the quote by author Gail Godwin who said that, “Good teaching is one-fourth preparation and three-fourths pure theatre.” A while back, I did not exactly understand the connection between teaching and theatre or any connection to my Mama’s conceptualization of gardening. After all, was it not possible to be a gardener or agriculturalist without being an artist? Even further, when I thought of theatre or any performance art, I thought and continue to think of people trained to act, sing, dance (or all of the above), and who are on stage for the sole purpose of entertaining and enlightening a receptive audience. The idea that a teacher and students were engaged in any kind of performance art escaped me until I stood in front of a classroom and gave a lecture without reading from any notes. My Mama, Syble Allen Williams, understood the performance element in teaching the first time she set foot in a classroom to teach. Only after she died, however, did I begin to understand some other things about the “pure theatre” or the creativity of teaching that was not readily apparent to me when she was alive.

I remember how she would begin to count to ten in order to get her kindergarteners to take their seats. “One…Two…Three…” she would say slowly and deliberately. The objective was to have all of her students seated BEFORE she reached the number ten. They would scramble to their chairs, each one determined not to be the last child to make it to his or her seat. Then there were Mama’s famous gold stars that she posted next to the names of those kids who ate all of their lunch—they were the fabulous members of the “Clean Plate Club.” Many children decided to sample a vegetable that they really did not want to eat in order to earn that gold star. Yet, she was at her most creative with her classroom gardens and her trips to the farm.

After Mama’s funeral service, our cousin James—who served as one of her pallbearers—told me that before her funeral began, four of her pallbearers were discussing their trips to farms and the gardens they helped to plant and tend when they were mere kindergarteners in her class. Four of Mama’s pallbearers were her former students. I remember when she made the switch from teaching third grade to kindergarten. I also recall her comments about children who grew up in the city. While she loved city life, she noted that children in cities rarely got much, if any, exposure to farm life.

Mama was born on a working farm in a tiny Georgia hamlet about forty minutes away by car from Atlanta. She lived there until she was about nine years old. Around her ninth birthday, her family migrated to Atlanta, as did so many Black rural families during and after the Great Depression. The beauty is that Mama’s appreciation for her agricultural roots ultimately became a wonderful lesson for her students.

Back in the 1970s when she started teaching kindergarten, she told me one day that too many of her students really did not know anything about where their food came from or the teamwork required to run a farm. Eventually she located a nice man—whose name escapes me now—who had a small working farm in McDonough, Georgia complete with crops, chickens, pigs, and cows. I only remember him as a middle aged, brown-skinned man who seemed tickled to death that the work he did as a farmer had some intrinsic value to Mama and her young students.

Every year she taught kindergarten she included a trip to that farm in McDonough, Georgia so that “her children” could witness the interaction of farmer and crop and cows and chickens. The cows’ manure fertilized the soil that yielded the crops. It was all organic and interactive. Every year, she would have her five-year-olds plant a garden in their classroom. She would gleefully remark how they would become mesmerized when they would see something that they had planted in the soil begin to grow. “Their eyes just light up at the first sight of the smallest bud,” she would say. For me, the strongest memory was her garden at our house and her household plants.

Each year she grew tomatoes, cabbage, collards, and squash on a strip of land in our backyard. I also recall one year she grew the hottest jalapeño peppers ever grown in the history of humankind—I remember it well; I ate one of those peppers and needed a couple of pitchers of ice water to cool the heat. Then there was her endless sea of green plants that lined our porch and windowsills. She often noted that the tomatoes might not grow as big as you wished, but if you nurtured those seeds, you would still get tomatoes. This was her lesson to her kindergarteners and to me: you always get something back if you plant something and nurture it.

Mama’s gardens and farming adventures were lessons in sheer creativity. In these activities were a science lesson, another lesson that taught respect for animals’ contributions to our welfare and an appreciation for our natural environment, a lesson in how any one of us who had patience could nurture a plant from a seed or seedling to full bloom. Even further, when I think of how many people never want to revisit their childhoods, I am comforted. Mama found beauty, resilience, and lifelong lessons in her own childhood, a childhood that she spent helping her parents and grandparents tend to plants and animals on the old family farm. Her students got a chance to share in a part of her upbringing.

On a nearly cloudless, sunny day in February of 2013, Mama had six pallbearers: one was a dear cousin, another was a family friend, and four were her former kindergarteners. These six dignified, hardworking, respectable, responsible, and well-educated Black men—all now over the age of forty—donned white gloves, and hoisted Mama’s coffin and took her to her final place of rest in the soil—soil she respected. Proudly, I watched them, as I am sure she did. And then I thought, “If you plant it in the earth, give it just enough sunlight, just enough water, and just enough nurturing, it will yield something.”

Leslye Joy Allen is proud to support the good work of Clean Green Nation. Visit the website to learn more about it: Gregory at Clean Green Nation!

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The Debt

Posted on September 8, 2012 by Leslye "JOY" Allen

by Leslye Joy Allen

from Birmingham to Bahia from Sapelo to San Juan

women black brown bronze tan men black brown bronze tan

looked away from more than we will see paid for more than we will collect

scholars scrubbing Miss Anne’s floor scientists slapping rags on shoes

teachers taking Mister Charlie’s orders architects covered in coal dust

Coloured women Coloured men

braided our hair held us in barbers’ chairs

amenned, fanned on hard church pews shop-talked at fraternal meetings

heard bedside prayers slipped us quarters

fragrant of Crisco and rose water pungent with Old Spice and cigars

admonished us with switches early-rised us to duties

and quick-witted wisdom ordered us home by dusk

We We

whose breath their hopes are hung on whose breath their hopes are hung on

owe them owe them.

(I have been blessed with wonderful teachers who have insisted that my being a historian had nothing to do with my ability to write something other than history. Much love & respect to my two favorite Partners-in-crime: Poet-Professors Dr. Waqas Ahmad Khwaja & Dr. Steven Guthrie of Agnes Scott College.)

Leslye Joy Allen is proud to support the good work of Clean Green Nation. Visit the website to learn more about it: Gregory at Clean Green Nation!

Mercy, Mercy Me: Black, Clean, and Green!

Posted on May 8, 2012 by Leslye "JOY" Allen

by Leslye Joy Allen

Historian, Educator, Theatre & Jazz Advocate, Doctoral Student

I am sure there is someone who saw the title of this blog and instantly thought of the late Marvin Gaye’s environmental anthem from 1971, “Mercy, Mercy Me (The Ecology).” Well, this is not exactly about Marvin Gaye. Yet, music can trigger an entire series of memories. Music is as much a cultural and historical marker of the times in which we live and have lived through as anything else. However, I arrived at this title and this blog via a beautiful and talented woman named Freda Payne. If you recognize that name, then you probably remember her anti-Vietnam era song “Bring the Boys Home.” Freda sang “Bring the Boys Home” with a sense of urgency and longing that none of us who grew up in the 1960s and 1970s will ever forget. It is ironic, but no accident that Freda’s anti-war anthem and Marvin Gaye’s song bemoaning our poisoning of the environment were released in the same year. For those of you who are unfamiliar, you can do a quick Google or YouTube search and find all the information, beautiful music and pointed messages you need. Yet, this blog is not exactly about music.

Not long ago, I received a sweet and thoughtful message from Freda Payne, along with a request from her to tell folks about her son Gregory who is a partner with Clean Green Nation. Before I could even visit the website, I heard Freda’s song in my head, then I heard Marvin Gaye. These were songs from my childhood and adolescence. As the music played in my head, I looked up Clean Green Nation on the Internet. It specializes in environmentally sound and clean energy for your home, your business, and even your farm. I smiled as I clicked on one section of the website after another because one of the first things that struck me about the website was the same thing that struck me about Freda’s request.—Her request, like the website itself, was filled with a deep understanding about this nation’s need to reduce its dependence on foreign oil, and the need to reduce greenhouse gases so that everyone can breathe cleaner air. She is also a proud mother. Her son Gregory is one of a growing number of young Black Americans committed to this admirable and much needed goal.

I visited what has to be one of the very best websites and businesses for selling, installing, promoting, and explaining clean energy. The best part about what Gregory and Clean Green Nation are doing is that there is some item or service available there for every budget. Solar panels and wind turbines are available for homes and businesses. For under $20.00, you can purchase a variable flow showerhead that saves water; another nifty gadget that helps you to time and shorten your showers is available for $2.99. Importantly, Clean Green Nation has one of the best Learning Centers that I have ever seen. In clear language, visitors to the site find out exactly how solar and wind energy work. They learn about radiant barriers that keep heat out of a house in the summer and hold more heat in during the winter. A range of services and products are offered that will simultaneously save the customer money and help clean up the environment at the same time—I cannot stress the importance of these factors when it comes to marketing anything affiliated with that word “environment” to Black and other communities of color. There was a time when I would go to rallies and lectures about the environment and I could count the number of Black folks (including myself) in attendance on one hand.

The first time I told someone I was an environmentalist was over fifteen years ago. The man looked at me strangely, as I stood there with my cloth shopping bags. I went into one of my quick talks about how we should use “these bags” instead of the petroleum based plastic bags many stores continue to use. Once, I even got a manager at a local grocery store to start recycling these same petroleum based bags. However, for a long time there seemed to be a kind of disconnect about the whole concept of cleaning up the environment in many Black communities; and that is a shame because WE Black folks, and other peoples of color, are usually the first to suffer from environmental toxicity. It is no accident that toxic waste dumps are often located near or in poor communities, particularly poor Black communities. Yet, regardless of race, ethnicity, or socioeconomic status, WE all bear responsibility and have the capacity to contribute to the fight to clean up the environment. I say this so that those folks who read this, who happen to be White or members of some other ethnic group, do not feel left out. My message in this blog, however, is deliberately directed at Black people because information about the environment has not always reached or been directed toward Black communities. This is where Clean Green Nation comes in.

While Gregory services the West Coast and West Hollywood specifically, anyone can order products and services from his website. Even more important, anyone can learn more about how to lower utility bills and help the environment! It is just that simple. I must add something important here: Gregory was not born when his mother sang that song that showed the human and personal costs to us as we lost one young man after another in the Vietnam War. The song was so potent that U. S. Armed Forces Radio banned it from its airwaves. Gregory was not born when Marvin Gaye sang a song with lyrics filled with sadness over the way we all had poisoned our natural environment. The tragedy is that both of these songs are still relevant some forty plus years later because the problems we were dealing with in 1971 are still with us today. I remember it well. Future generations do not so much need new songs as they need new songs with different themes. Now when I was a kid, James Brown taught us to chant, “Say it Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud.” Today I ask you to support a committed young man who drives a hybrid in a town that often prides itself on glamour; a young man trying to make an honest living and help clean up the planet at the same time. Say it with me now, “Let’s Be Black, Clean and Green.”

Leslye Joy Allen is proud to support Clean Green Nation. Visit the website to learn more about it: Gregory at Clean Green Nation!

A Stranger in the Neighborhood – The Worse Case Scenario

Posted on March 25, 2012 by Leslye "JOY" Allen

by Leslye Joy Allen

Historian, Educator, Theatre & Jazz Advocate, Doctoral Student

(*Update 3-29-2012: When I wrote and published the piece below on March 25, 2012, news reports stated that there had been a physical altercation between Martin and Zimmerman in which Zimmerman had a bloody nose and blood on the back of his head. A new video obtained by ABC news showed Zimmerman being brought into police custody, also showed that he had no signs of physical injury or blood anywhere on his person. Then in a couple of days there were new accusations that the video had been doctored–a new video showed Zimmerman with gashes on the back of his head. I am, however, leaving the contents of this blog “as is” because there are some questions that need to be answered that have little to do with how badly Zimmerman was allegedly injured by Martin. A hyperlink to the “first” ABC video is provided at end of this blog.*)

I will not bore you by retelling what has already been reported about the fatal and tragic shooting of Trayvon Martin in Sanford, Florida. If you have been anywhere near a television or the internet, you know several stories about this already. I would like to share my take on what questions need to be asked about this case and to share my own personal experiences with fear.

I remember the first time I called the police because I saw a person walking around my neighborhood who I had never seen before. The person stopped at every house, looked in a few neighbors’ windows, and they did not seem to be selling anything. I called the police, looked out my window at the person and wrote down everything from what they were wearing to how old I thought they were. I have done this a couple of times, once when the person was Black like me and another time when the person was White. As a police officer once told me, “You ladies should not be taking chances. Call the police when you see anything out of the ordinary.” In each instance the person had a legitimate reason for being in the neighborhood, but I let the police question these individuals and then waited for the police to stop by my house to let me know what they discovered and to assure me that I had nothing to worry about.

Right now George Zimmerman is under fire for his fatal shooting of Black,17-year-old,140 pound Trayvon Martin whom Zimmerman claims attacked him from behind. Most people are reasonably having a hard time understanding how Zimmerman, who weighs 250 pounds, was over powered by what is obviously a slender teenage boy. That Zimmerman had a bloody nose when police arrived on the scene does raise the possibility that Trayvon might have, at some point, hit the man in the face.

Friends of Zimmerman have come forward to paint him as someone who was certainly not racist; someone who mentored a young Black boy; and a man who has been crying and feels very bad about what has transpired. He should feel bad, because if the police had properly conducted their investigation, Zimmerman might be in a jail cell where he would probably feel much safer than he feels right now. He and his defenders understand his suspicions about Trayvon Martin, but there has been no statement from Zimmerman or anyone in his camp that suggests he has the faintest understanding that his actions probably frightened the hell out of Trayvon Martin.

Zimmerman and all other parties also need to understand that even if he is not a racist as he and some of his defenders have claimed, that many people who are not Black and who bear no particular ill-will against the Black community often harbor some dangerous and downright stupid stereotypes about Black people. You do not need to be a virulent racist to harbor stereotypes about any group of people. I have met many White and allegedly non-racist liberals who have assumed certain things about ALL Black people, only to embarrass themselves when they discover their mistake.

There are some questions that should plague everyone about this fatal shooting. First, let us suppose a HYPOTHETICAL scenario where Trayvon Martin jumps George Zimmerman from behind and actually physically gets the best of him. If this scenario is true then the next question is what motivated Trayvon Martin to attack in this way? What would you do if someone continued to follow you and you were not near your house? If Zimmerman was safely driving in his SUV with a loaded gun, following Trayvon Martin, then why did Zimmerman not just crack his car window, say, “Hello” to Trayvon and then calmly ask the boy what he was doing in the neighborhood or if he lived in the neighborhood. And if the person walking in your neighborhood seemed so threatening, why not follow from a safe distance and wait for the police.

I remember driving one night, with a car following me; the experience was unbelievably frightening. I drove until I found a well-lit parking lot, populated with several people. The car followed me into the parking lot, made a U-Turn and then quickly sped away. My heart raced with fear, but I hurried home glad that nothing happened. I do not know what I might have done (or might do) if I were out walking and suddenly discovered someone was following me in a car. If you are walking, you cannot outrun the vehicle. Then, what would you think if the driver exited the car? Certainly, I might be convinced that the person was trying to harm me in some way. Being followed also provokes feelings of vulnerability and anger.

George Zimmerman followed Trayvon Martin when he did not have to do so. WHY SHOULD ANYONE EXPECT A BOY WALKING DOWN A STREET TO STOP FOR A COMPLETE STRANGER THAT THE BOY BELIEVES IS FOLLOWING HIM? If Zimmerman’s account of what happened is correct: that Trayvon Martin jumped him from behind, then Zimmerman should be prepared to explain why he thought Trayvon Martin did this, and how such a small framed boy managed to over power a 250 pound man. I must admit that when you think your life is threatened, fear will make you much stronger than you ever knew you were. If Zimmerman’s account is correct then he needs to explain his role in provoking such a response from a boy who was a good student and who had no criminal record. The key word here is “boy.”

We probably will never know exactly what was said by Zimmerman or Martin. It is always possible that a nasty verbal exchange took place between them; this would not come as a surprise. However, that Trayvon Martin told his girlfriend over his cell phone that he was being followed is frightening. She too is an adolescent who told him to run. He said he would just walk fast. Black boys who “walk fast” are not always doing so because they have done something wrong or fleeing the scene of a crime. But anyone who is afraid will walk fast or possibly run.

Even in the worst of all possible–not actual–scenarios, no matter how mature or responsible Trayvon Martin might have been in his too short life, his ability to reason like a mature adult was still a year or two away. Some maturity comes with time and experience. Some mistakes in judgment are expected when you are a teenager; and no one expects a 17-year-old boy to never make the wrong decision. At the risk of invoking a stereotype about all adolescent males, can someone tell me whether they have ever met a young teenage boy who has not had at least one fisticuff over something silly or even something serious? Yet, it was completely rational to try to walk or run away from someone Trayvon believed was following him. For Zimmerman to assume that his following someone walking down the street would not be frightening to that person is about as absurd and irrational as anyone can get.

The public may never know the exact details of what transpired on that tragic night in February. I freely admit my anger over this boy’s death. Yet, no matter what happens next or whose story becomes the narrative of this tragedy, there is still one clear fact that no one can escape or ignore, and that fact is that George Zimmerman was not/is not a teenager, but A GROWN MAN who should have known better. Trayvon Martin left this world, his family, and his friends while he was just a boy.

(*This is a hyperlink to the surveillance video of George Zimmerman being taken into custody by the Sanford, Florida police on the night he killed Trayvon Martin: http://abcnews.go.com/WNT/trayvon-martin-case-exclusive-surveillance-video-george-zimmerman/story?id=16022897)

Leslye Joy Allen is proud to support the good work of Clean Green Nation. Visit the website to learn more about it: Gregory at Clean Green Nation!

Leslye Joy Allen

History, Social Commentary, Theatre and the Arts

Tag Archives: Black community

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