This passage does speak to me on a very deep level. My grown children have taught me to open my heart and mind and even my spirituality to those outside my social circles of origin.In fact I have had to reorient myself into where I felt I belonged many times on this life journey. I have a very mixed and beautiful family. I married a South Texas Hispanic man about 50 yrs. Ago. I grew up in Dallas in a bible belt southern baptist home. My husband grew up in a poor immigrant family. He and his older sister were first generation US citizens. He picked cotton along with other family members as a child. They were deeply Catholic. Both families were concerned about our union. We met when he was in Med school and I a young nurse. We had 3 children. They have extended the borders of our family in many areas. My oldest son married a Hindu woman whose parents also migrated here to go to med. school. They are among the kindest people I have ever met. My daughter is the "bread winner" of her family and her husband has mostly stayed home to raise their daughters. The flip-side of the traditional marriage. My youngest SON, 40, is gay and has a partner that is a shining light to us all. One of my teenage granddaughters is lesbian. She is dearly loved and supported by us all. All 3 of my granddaughters are kind, bright and full of positive life energy. I guess I am saying that I have a very mixed race, mixed sexuality, mixed religions, mixed many things family. A microcosm of what this country is. And I could brag on each of them until I was breathless and wore you out. But, my heart has been hurting for a long time. My great-grandfather was rumored to be a member of the KKK although he had a sweet, gentle character and was a country preacher in NE Texas. Dallas was a Jim Crow hot bed when I growing up in the 50s and 60s. Even as a child none of this sat right in my soul. As an adult I have overheard conversations from other white mama PTA peers that my children were unfairly going to take the places in universities that rightfully belonged to their kids. I have lived my life trying to enlighten people as I too was being enlightened. But the current state of affairs in this country is giving me pause and I have to daily fight to remain hopeful. I am going to pick up the Bregdan Chronicles again. My mother and I were reading it together and had many rich discussions while I was assisting her in her final years. She died in 2020. She was ready to meet her Jesus with a smile on her face. But, those times we had our discussions have given me some of the sweetest and richest memories of that season of her life. My exposure to the many challenges and dangers that nonwhite, poor, LGTBQ, and all women have faced has been near and far, impersonal and personal. I have really been living my second half of life trying to represent a kinder, more just, open minded person. i heard the expression about a white lady being called "a Karen" not too long ago. I have had some very lovely friends maned Karen. But this Characterization is one I am trying to be the "anti- Karen". Thank you for your writings and sharing your whole heart soul and mind. You help remind us that we are not on this life journey alone. We can face the good, the bad and the ugly together. We can use this to do better, be better, love better.
Oh Donna... Can I come spend a holiday at your home?? :) My wife and I would have such a wonderful time with your beautiful family!
What a journey you have been on. What a light you are to the world!
I understand your concerns all too well. I am reminded on a daily basis that those of us who know how to shine have to commit to shining on a daily basis - to everyone we possibly can. I believe the tide is beginning to turn in our country - as it has so many times in the past.
It's taking people with courage to stand up, speak, and refuse to be silenced.
It's taking people who are committed to love, acceptance, and determination to do the right things.
Thank you for this inspiring post. I know how you feel about humanity through your chronicles and by your thorough research to provide the truth about the good, the bad and the ugly. I, like you, have a measure of privilege to make the choice day by day to remain in an orbit that can reflect the light. You also have a deep empathic nature. I am a 72 yo white woman. I carry a very guilty conscious in my awareness that it has been my own people who have contributed to horrific misery and barely survivable living conditions for those fellow humans who look, speak, dress, etc. differently than ourselves. It is that empathic awareness that acts as my gravitational pull out of my orbit. I am acutely aware that my life will remain relatively unchanged for the duration of my because of my privileged landing upon this earth. But, my heart is hurting for those who happened to land in a different place. Not because of who they are, but because of who I have been in thinking I am superior. And, not Superior alone but in the collective beliefs and behaviors of those who look like me. I believe there is a disordering that will continue until we have unraveled and broken long held systems to the point they can be obliterated or reordered into something much more wholesome, and life affirming to all humankind. I believe you, Ginny, have been a light that has shined a necessarily upon the evils of mankind's actions toward our fellow bothers and sisters. But I also think that has come from a place of compassion and courage. A knowing that bringing to life wonderful characters that carry the lessons through your story telling can open eyes and hearts of women like myself. I knew some of the facts. But it is so much more compelling and life changing in applying the stories of our collective history into relatable stories. You have been and still are a light that shines truth, hope and love onto others. I am sure your light came through your own openness to feel the pain of others, share your pain and then believe in the goodness that still lies within each of us to do better.
Thank you so much for writing! I wish I could meet you for a long meal. We would have such a fascinating time. :)
I'd like to share with you a portion of book # 20 in The Bregdan Chronicles. I believe it will speak to you.
______________________________________________
Frances stared at both of them, her eyes shifting between them. “I hate that I’m ashamed to be white,” she confessed. “White people have done such horrible things.”
Moses had suffered greatly under the power of white people, but he knew Frances’ feelings were wrong. Just as he never wanted to be ashamed for being who he was, he didn’t want her to be ashamed for who she was.
He reached forward and encased her slim white hand in his massive, strong black hand. He stared at their hands for a moment, wishing the whole world could experience such an easy blending of colors. “You should never be ashamed of who you were created to be, Frances,” he began. “God didn’t make a mistake by creating you to be white, any more than it was a mistake for me to be black.”
“But…”
Moses held up his hand to stop Frances from interrupting. “It’s true that white men brought blacks from Africa to be slaves, but it was Old Sarah who told me the truth about how that happened.”
Both the girls stared at him. “What do you mean?” Felicia asked.
“Your grandmother was brought to America by white slave traders, but they weren’t the ones who captured her. Other Africans stole her, along with dozens of others, from her village. They forced them to walk to the wharves where the white slave traders waited and sold them.”
“Is that true?” Frances demanded.
“It is,” Moses answered. He’d had long conversations with Sarah about the millions of slaves residing in America. After she’d been captured, she had been forced to wait in a large cage on the wharves for weeks. She saw thousands of men, women and children herded into other cages.
“Slavery existed in Africa long before the white man came. It was different, though. In many African cultures, it was an accepted domestic practice, but slaves had far more rights, and they were often treated like true family. They were adopted by the family and became part of their lineage.” His lips twisted. “Not that they wouldn’t have rather been in their villages with their own people, where they were truly free, but at least they had some rights and protections under the law.”
“But why sell them to white people?” Felicia asked.
“Sarah told me she was taken during a time when many African states were at war with each other. They needed guns,” Moses said.
Frances stared at him with disbelief. “The Africans sold each other so they could buy guns to kill each other?”
Moses nodded. “Guns were the deciding factor in the slave trade. European whites knew they had something the Africans wanted. Still,” he added, “Sarah told me she doesn’t think many of the African kings and chiefs would have sold their people if they had understood the brutality of slavery here in America.”
“So, it all comes back to the brutality of white people,” Frances declared.
“The brutality of some white people,” Moses stated. “When you see something bad happening, it’s easy to blame an entire race or culture. The truth, however, is that only some of the people are greedy and evil. The vast majority are simply people who want to live in peace. They want a home and food. They want to love their family and live a good life.” He squeezed Frances’ hand. “That is true for any race. Yes, there are greedy white people. There are also incredibly wonderful, generous, and loving white people – like your family. White people are who ended slavery in America.”
“But…”
Moses held up his hand again. He had more to say. “There are greedy, evil black people who sell their people into slavery. There were black slave owners here in America.”
Frances stared at him. “Black people owned other black people?”
Moses nodded again. “They did. Not many could afford to own slaves, but if they could, there were many that did. Frances, I believe that slavery is more about power than about the color of your skin. Africans have owned slaves for thousands of years — probably since the beginning of their existence. People have always wanted others to do the things they prefer not to do.”
“You don’t,” Felicia burst out.
“No,’ Moses agreed. “But that’s because I know how horrible slavery is. I lived it. My family lived it. My father died because of it. My little sister was killed. I watched others tortured and beaten because of it.” He paused, determined to be brutally honest. “In another time, perhaps I would have owned slaves.”
“That’s not true,” Felicia cried. “You’re not like that!”
Moses looked at her tenderly. “Felicia, none of us knows what we’re truly capable of until we are in the situation. People are controlled by human nature. Everyone wants to believe they’re superior to someone. Everyone wants to have power over someone. We want to believe we’re better than we are. I’d like to think I would never have become someone who would own a slave, but I can’t know that for sure.”
Felicia and Frances were both silent for a long moment.
“It still doesn’t make any of it right,” Frances said.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Moses replied. “The whole point of this conversation is that you shouldn’t feel ashamed of being white. There are people who should be ashamed of their actions or their attitudes, but they should never be ashamed of the color of their skin.” He thought hard. “I think every person, no matter the color of their skin, should choose to use how they’re created to make the world better.”
“Use how you are created to make the world better,” Felicia said softly, repeating what he’d said.
Frances peered up into Moses’ face. The trouble finally disappeared from her eyes. “I can do that,” she declared. “I can use my white skin to make the world better.”
“And I can use my black skin to make the world better,” Felicia added.
A long shrill whistle cut into their conversation.
Frances leapt up. “We’re home!”
________________________________________
It's our privilege to use how we were created to make the world better!!
This passage does speak to me on a very deep level. My grown children have taught me to open my heart and mind and even my spirituality to those outside my social circles of origin.In fact I have had to reorient myself into where I felt I belonged many times on this life journey. I have a very mixed and beautiful family. I married a South Texas Hispanic man about 50 yrs. Ago. I grew up in Dallas in a bible belt southern baptist home. My husband grew up in a poor immigrant family. He and his older sister were first generation US citizens. He picked cotton along with other family members as a child. They were deeply Catholic. Both families were concerned about our union. We met when he was in Med school and I a young nurse. We had 3 children. They have extended the borders of our family in many areas. My oldest son married a Hindu woman whose parents also migrated here to go to med. school. They are among the kindest people I have ever met. My daughter is the "bread winner" of her family and her husband has mostly stayed home to raise their daughters. The flip-side of the traditional marriage. My youngest SON, 40, is gay and has a partner that is a shining light to us all. One of my teenage granddaughters is lesbian. She is dearly loved and supported by us all. All 3 of my granddaughters are kind, bright and full of positive life energy. I guess I am saying that I have a very mixed race, mixed sexuality, mixed religions, mixed many things family. A microcosm of what this country is. And I could brag on each of them until I was breathless and wore you out. But, my heart has been hurting for a long time. My great-grandfather was rumored to be a member of the KKK although he had a sweet, gentle character and was a country preacher in NE Texas. Dallas was a Jim Crow hot bed when I growing up in the 50s and 60s. Even as a child none of this sat right in my soul. As an adult I have overheard conversations from other white mama PTA peers that my children were unfairly going to take the places in universities that rightfully belonged to their kids. I have lived my life trying to enlighten people as I too was being enlightened. But the current state of affairs in this country is giving me pause and I have to daily fight to remain hopeful. I am going to pick up the Bregdan Chronicles again. My mother and I were reading it together and had many rich discussions while I was assisting her in her final years. She died in 2020. She was ready to meet her Jesus with a smile on her face. But, those times we had our discussions have given me some of the sweetest and richest memories of that season of her life. My exposure to the many challenges and dangers that nonwhite, poor, LGTBQ, and all women have faced has been near and far, impersonal and personal. I have really been living my second half of life trying to represent a kinder, more just, open minded person. i heard the expression about a white lady being called "a Karen" not too long ago. I have had some very lovely friends maned Karen. But this Characterization is one I am trying to be the "anti- Karen". Thank you for your writings and sharing your whole heart soul and mind. You help remind us that we are not on this life journey alone. We can face the good, the bad and the ugly together. We can use this to do better, be better, love better.
Oh Donna... Can I come spend a holiday at your home?? :) My wife and I would have such a wonderful time with your beautiful family!
What a journey you have been on. What a light you are to the world!
I understand your concerns all too well. I am reminded on a daily basis that those of us who know how to shine have to commit to shining on a daily basis - to everyone we possibly can. I believe the tide is beginning to turn in our country - as it has so many times in the past.
It's taking people with courage to stand up, speak, and refuse to be silenced.
It's taking people who are committed to love, acceptance, and determination to do the right things.
Thank you for being one of those people!!
Ginny
Thank you for this inspiring post. I know how you feel about humanity through your chronicles and by your thorough research to provide the truth about the good, the bad and the ugly. I, like you, have a measure of privilege to make the choice day by day to remain in an orbit that can reflect the light. You also have a deep empathic nature. I am a 72 yo white woman. I carry a very guilty conscious in my awareness that it has been my own people who have contributed to horrific misery and barely survivable living conditions for those fellow humans who look, speak, dress, etc. differently than ourselves. It is that empathic awareness that acts as my gravitational pull out of my orbit. I am acutely aware that my life will remain relatively unchanged for the duration of my because of my privileged landing upon this earth. But, my heart is hurting for those who happened to land in a different place. Not because of who they are, but because of who I have been in thinking I am superior. And, not Superior alone but in the collective beliefs and behaviors of those who look like me. I believe there is a disordering that will continue until we have unraveled and broken long held systems to the point they can be obliterated or reordered into something much more wholesome, and life affirming to all humankind. I believe you, Ginny, have been a light that has shined a necessarily upon the evils of mankind's actions toward our fellow bothers and sisters. But I also think that has come from a place of compassion and courage. A knowing that bringing to life wonderful characters that carry the lessons through your story telling can open eyes and hearts of women like myself. I knew some of the facts. But it is so much more compelling and life changing in applying the stories of our collective history into relatable stories. You have been and still are a light that shines truth, hope and love onto others. I am sure your light came through your own openness to feel the pain of others, share your pain and then believe in the goodness that still lies within each of us to do better.
Hi Donna,
Thank you so much for writing! I wish I could meet you for a long meal. We would have such a fascinating time. :)
I'd like to share with you a portion of book # 20 in The Bregdan Chronicles. I believe it will speak to you.
______________________________________________
Frances stared at both of them, her eyes shifting between them. “I hate that I’m ashamed to be white,” she confessed. “White people have done such horrible things.”
Moses had suffered greatly under the power of white people, but he knew Frances’ feelings were wrong. Just as he never wanted to be ashamed for being who he was, he didn’t want her to be ashamed for who she was.
He reached forward and encased her slim white hand in his massive, strong black hand. He stared at their hands for a moment, wishing the whole world could experience such an easy blending of colors. “You should never be ashamed of who you were created to be, Frances,” he began. “God didn’t make a mistake by creating you to be white, any more than it was a mistake for me to be black.”
“But…”
Moses held up his hand to stop Frances from interrupting. “It’s true that white men brought blacks from Africa to be slaves, but it was Old Sarah who told me the truth about how that happened.”
Both the girls stared at him. “What do you mean?” Felicia asked.
“Your grandmother was brought to America by white slave traders, but they weren’t the ones who captured her. Other Africans stole her, along with dozens of others, from her village. They forced them to walk to the wharves where the white slave traders waited and sold them.”
“Is that true?” Frances demanded.
“It is,” Moses answered. He’d had long conversations with Sarah about the millions of slaves residing in America. After she’d been captured, she had been forced to wait in a large cage on the wharves for weeks. She saw thousands of men, women and children herded into other cages.
“Slavery existed in Africa long before the white man came. It was different, though. In many African cultures, it was an accepted domestic practice, but slaves had far more rights, and they were often treated like true family. They were adopted by the family and became part of their lineage.” His lips twisted. “Not that they wouldn’t have rather been in their villages with their own people, where they were truly free, but at least they had some rights and protections under the law.”
“But why sell them to white people?” Felicia asked.
“Sarah told me she was taken during a time when many African states were at war with each other. They needed guns,” Moses said.
Frances stared at him with disbelief. “The Africans sold each other so they could buy guns to kill each other?”
Moses nodded. “Guns were the deciding factor in the slave trade. European whites knew they had something the Africans wanted. Still,” he added, “Sarah told me she doesn’t think many of the African kings and chiefs would have sold their people if they had understood the brutality of slavery here in America.”
“So, it all comes back to the brutality of white people,” Frances declared.
“The brutality of some white people,” Moses stated. “When you see something bad happening, it’s easy to blame an entire race or culture. The truth, however, is that only some of the people are greedy and evil. The vast majority are simply people who want to live in peace. They want a home and food. They want to love their family and live a good life.” He squeezed Frances’ hand. “That is true for any race. Yes, there are greedy white people. There are also incredibly wonderful, generous, and loving white people – like your family. White people are who ended slavery in America.”
“But…”
Moses held up his hand again. He had more to say. “There are greedy, evil black people who sell their people into slavery. There were black slave owners here in America.”
Frances stared at him. “Black people owned other black people?”
Moses nodded again. “They did. Not many could afford to own slaves, but if they could, there were many that did. Frances, I believe that slavery is more about power than about the color of your skin. Africans have owned slaves for thousands of years — probably since the beginning of their existence. People have always wanted others to do the things they prefer not to do.”
“You don’t,” Felicia burst out.
“No,’ Moses agreed. “But that’s because I know how horrible slavery is. I lived it. My family lived it. My father died because of it. My little sister was killed. I watched others tortured and beaten because of it.” He paused, determined to be brutally honest. “In another time, perhaps I would have owned slaves.”
“That’s not true,” Felicia cried. “You’re not like that!”
Moses looked at her tenderly. “Felicia, none of us knows what we’re truly capable of until we are in the situation. People are controlled by human nature. Everyone wants to believe they’re superior to someone. Everyone wants to have power over someone. We want to believe we’re better than we are. I’d like to think I would never have become someone who would own a slave, but I can’t know that for sure.”
Felicia and Frances were both silent for a long moment.
“It still doesn’t make any of it right,” Frances said.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Moses replied. “The whole point of this conversation is that you shouldn’t feel ashamed of being white. There are people who should be ashamed of their actions or their attitudes, but they should never be ashamed of the color of their skin.” He thought hard. “I think every person, no matter the color of their skin, should choose to use how they’re created to make the world better.”
“Use how you are created to make the world better,” Felicia said softly, repeating what he’d said.
Frances peered up into Moses’ face. The trouble finally disappeared from her eyes. “I can do that,” she declared. “I can use my white skin to make the world better.”
“And I can use my black skin to make the world better,” Felicia added.
A long shrill whistle cut into their conversation.
Frances leapt up. “We’re home!”
________________________________________
It's our privilege to use how we were created to make the world better!!
Ginny