At this point, Marge, Mrs. H. starts wavin’ her hands and smilin’ as if to say that was enough, but I wasn’t payin’ her no mind whatsoever…. “Furthermore,” I said, “I do not want to see people’s blood and bones spattered about the streets and I do not want to see your eyes runnin’ outta your head like water.”
Mrs. H. says, “Oh, you’ll turn my stomach, Mildred!” … “That is not me turnin’ your stomach,” I says, “that is war.” … I looked at those young men in their fancy dinner jackets and the ladies in their strapless evening gowns and I went on, “I do not want to see you folks washed in oil and fire…. No, and I don’t want to see your bodies stacked like kindlin’ wood…. I don’t want to see mothers and fathers screamin’ in the streets…. I don’t want to see blood flowin’ like the Mississippi…. I don’t want to see folks shakin’ and tremblin’ and runnin’ and hidin’ … but I do want to see the KINGDOM COME on earth as it is in Heaven and I do not think that bombs and blood and salty tears is a Heavenly condition,”
Well, Marge, they were quiet and as I picked up the silent butler, I added one last remark…. “When there is true peace we’ll have different notions about what is amusin’ because mankind will be wonderful.”
Marge, they were still quiet when I left.
A NEW KIND OF PRAYER
DEAR MARGE:
Hope this letter finds you well as it leaves me the same. My sister is much better now so I will be able to come home next week. Last night I went with her to prayer meeting at her church and I got so caught up with the spirit that I said a prayer. And afterwards somebody told my sister that it was a dangerous prayer to be making out loud.
Now Marge, whoever heard of a dangerous prayer? I listened to several prayers before mine and they were all good and sincere, but they were so general-like. I guess everyone asked help for the “poor and afflicted” but they’d leave it there and then jump to themselves and ask for special small favors—and it struck me that we were not praying right. We were praying general when we should be praying specific.
After all, Marge, there are so many people asking the Lord for things that it behooves us to pray clear and direct, with no fuzziness at all.
So I got up and said: “Dear Lord, will you please put a stop to the Klan, will you please? I ask this in the name of your son Jesus. In the first place they claim to follow his teachings, but they would not let Jesus join it if he were here (someone said Amen) and secondly they spend all their time finding fault with your handiwork. They don’t think much of you, Lord, and whenever they want to torment some of the folk you created they put up a cross like the one your son died on and set it on fire. And this means—‘In the name of Jesus get going before you get killed’ and on top of that, Lord, they got the nerve to say only white Christians can join it. (Right here the minister said ‘Amen, Amen!’)
“Dear Heavenly Father,” I said, “I want you to notice what folk have been doing with the good things you put here on earth for us. They are grabbing everything up and putting a gate in front of it while some of your children are starving for what’s inside! I am asking you, God, to stop men from killing in your name. Things have been destroyed in your name for a long time, but if you will notice, Lord, nothing is built in your name except churches and the main thing they are praying in them churches is; ‘Oh Lord, help us overcome somebody!’” (There were some more Amens, Marge.) Then I went on to say, “Dear Lord, please, please stop people from saying God Is On Our Side because today if you say that, you can go out and do all manner of devilment and get away with it (I could feel the people praying with me Marge).
“Heavenly Father,” I said, “we pray thee to go easy on Judas if he is still in torment, because men are still informing for the sake of silver only they haven’t the shame to hang themselves afterward.
“Lord, there has been enough blood spilled, homes burned, enough arrogance in your name. Let it all change, Lord, and in thy name have Peace, Love and Plenty. (I walked to the front of the church and I opened my arms to everybody.) Dear Lord,” I said, “I thank you for the gifts you gave me—a voice to speak, hands to work, eyes to see … that I might have the wherewithal to make a good and decent world … and I shall work, Lord, with all or any of these powers granted me, until the day I die. For I have faith when I look upon the innocence of the newborn who have but four needs: food, shelter, love and learning….
“Dear Lord, we teach these little ones of hate and bloodshed. God, we are ashamed of the wickedness done in your name, Amen.”
So you see, Marge, I only prayed what I thought, and it strikes me as an awful sign of the times, when it’s even dangerous to tell God what is exactly on your mind.
Goodnight for now and don’t forget to empty my ice pan for me.
Your friend,
MILDRED
HISTORY IN THE MAKIN’
HI MARGE! This is the time of year that we get to talkin’ about Negro History. Well now! There you go startin’ a argument before I even sit down. What do you mean you don’t believe in no Negro History week or month? … Of course it should be all year round and of course everybody’s history should be in the school books but I’m talkin’ about what is and not about what should be! So now we are agreed on that!
But what gets me is the history that we are makin’ right now. Doesn’t it give you a funny feelin’ when you notice that when one of our folks get a job it’s headline news? Well, for an instance, Miss Marian Anderson made a long-overdue appearance at the Metropolitan Opera House lately and it broke the headlines everywhere. And here we are spang in the middle of the Twentieth Century and people are talkin’ about rocketin’ to the moon. It strikes me that we oughta be working pretty near everywhere if folks have reached the point of workin’ “out of this world,” so to speak.
Oh, I so long to see the day when our doctors, lawyers, factory workers and politicians will be able to work as a matter of course. Every time I pick up the paper I see somebody gettin’ a plaque for bein’ the first Negro to work here or there. And all too often they are also the last. Another thing when one of our folk gets a job—be it playin’ baseball or prizefightin’ or what have you—we are always told that they are representin’ the “race.” To my way of thinkin’, that’s wrong. They look to me like real talented people making a living at something they are well suited for.
I never hear any stories about white actors and athletes representin’ their race. It seems to me that the representatives should be in Congress and in the White House and in the Senate.
I think working for a livin’ and enjoyin’ freedom is a right guaranteed us by the law of the land, and some folk are breakin’ the laws by holdin’ back on our rights.
Yes, Marge, givin’ full credit to all the good souls who fight the good fight to make a job openin’ here and there. And I do hope they continue to do so. I long for the day when it will not be news for us to work anywhere, speak anywhere, ride anywhere, hold public office or do any of the things that all American citizens are by law entitled to do.
When that day comes, you will look in a newspaper and read announcements about anybody appearing anywhere and your only comment will be, “Oh my, isn’t that nice, I sure want to see that.” And all this huffin’ and puffin’ and blowin’ will be past. And if you want to know anything about how things were in our time, you’ll have to look in a book to find out. Because that’s what history is—the things behind us that made the present.
Thank you, I will have some coffee.
DANCE WITH ME, HENRY
COME ON IN, MARGE, and shut the door behind you. If you want any coffee, tea, milk or whatever, just fix it for yourself because I don’t feel like waitin’ on you or anybody else! … No, I’m not mad at you in particular, but I’m mad at the world in general…. No, I have not been cryin’…. Well, looks are deceivin’, that’s all I can say…. And I wish you’d stop needlin’ at me because I will tell you what it’s all about as soon as I get ready. I’m not upset about what anyb
ody said or did but I’m hoppin’ mad about what they didn’t say or do either!
… Yes, I went to the Robinson’s party this evenin’ and I know I’m home early, and I know I sailed past your door without stoppin’ by or anything, but I didn’t feel like talkin’! … Don’t bother to hang my dress up for me because I don’t care if I never wear it again even if it did cost me twenty-six dollars and is the prettiest one I ever had! … If Eddie was here I bet I would of had a nice time! … Marge, I’m just about thinkin’ I might soon get married to Eddie even though he is out on the road all the time sellin’ records and books…. At least when he’s here, it ain’t so lonely-like all the time.
… I went out of here this evenin’ as happy as a lark or at least as happy as a woman can try to be if she has to go to a party all by herself…. Yes, I could have gone with Dorothy and Rosalie, but you get sick and tired of walkin’ in places with a whole bunch of women. So, I went alone…. But I didn’t mind that part of it so much.
It was after I got there! … Oh yes, there was lots of folks there. Hardly anybody could be called a stranger, and they all talked friendly enough….
Marge, I know I looked good in my new dress and shoes and everything, and you know I know how to laugh and talk and be sociable…. Well, at first everything was all right because I enjoyed listenin’ to the music and watchin’ everybody dressed up so nice, but after the record changer dropped six or seven tunes it suddenly came home to me that nobody had asked me to dance. The men were pickin’ out women here and there, and most of those women had danced a lot already!
… Yes, I suppose you might say that they were kinda glamorous lookin’, and I would be mighty small to get mad about a man preferrin’ another woman to me. But I wasn’t lookin’ for someone to marry or be sweethearts with. I just wanted to dance some, too!
Timmy went flyin’ by me several times with different girls. Oh yes, he waved and said, “Hey there!” And then Henry came up to me, and I was all ready to take off and do the mambo. But all he wanted was to ask me to please sell five tickets for his club dance. After I took the tickets, he just went on about his business. Milton introduced me to the girl he’s gonna marry, and she asked me to hold her evenin’ purse while they danced. John brought me a drink and left it on the end table for me and two minutes later I saw him whirlin’ ’round the floor with somebody. Finally Mrs. Beecham called me over to sit with her and her husband when they were havin’ refreshments. After a while she hunched him in the ribs with her elbow, and then he asked me to dance. But he looked so sorry-faced about it that I said, “No, thank you,” and left them as soon as I could move without seemin’ abrupt.
I felt so lost wanderin’ around and smilin’ at people that finally I went over in the corner with Dorothy and Rosalie, sat down and joined in with that everlastin’ chit-chat. Who in the hell wants to go to a party and spend money for a new dress just to end up in a dark corner talkin’ some made-up conversation just to cover your feelin’s and brazen out the evenin’! It seems like people could be more sociable to each other. These men think that dancin’ with you is such a big old deal and they don’t want to be bothered with nobody unless they wish to follow up the whole business and try to make some time with you. Oh honey, if I was to ask one of ’em to dance with me, they’d run for cover and swear you was after gettin’ them for your very own, to have and to hold from this day forward ’til death do part!
… People at parties owe it to each other to try and enjoy each other’s company…. I know it, they’re busy pickin’ out the glama-rama chicks who got long curlin’ hair and shaped like models or something. Or else they expect you to be a iceskatin’ champion or a movie star. Well, they don’t know that if things was turned around and it was women who did the askin’ and we picked them by their looks! Well, all I can say is that there would be a devilish lot of them sittin’ around the sidelines twiddlin’ their thumbs.
One time some fella came over to where we girls was sittin’, and it was plain to see that he was gonna ask one of us to dance. But which one? He stood there lookin’ each of us up and down like he was gonna buy somebody. He finally asked Rosalie although it seems he wasn’t too delighted after he had picked her. And after him studyin’ our legs and hair-do’s and everything!
That’s another thing! How come they can march around pickin’ and choosin’ who they think is best to dance with while we gotta sit there waitin’ for whatever comes by? … Yes, I know that’s supposed to be womanlike and modest, but it’s also somethin’ for the birds!
Well, I decided that I’d had enough, so I squared my shoulders back, put on a big old smile and told the host and hostess that I was sorry to leave, but I was sufferin’ with the worst kind of headache. I was girl, I really was.
No, I’m not goin’ to bed yet. I’m gonna first write a letter to Henry and tell him what he can do with these five tickets! ’cause if Henry can’t dance with me, why should I care whether his club’s affair is a success or has a big crowd? And if it’s the last thing I do, I’m gonna write Eddie a letter tonight and tell him I miss him!
AIN’T YOU MAD?
MARGE, I AM SICK to my soul and stomach…. Well, this morning I report on the job, and Mr. and Mrs. B. are finishing their breakfast. Mr. B. is finishing on the last piece of buttered, jellied toast when he looks up from his paper and says to me, “Isn’t it too bad about this girl tryin’ to get into Alabama University?” And then Mrs. B. swashes down her bacon with a gulp of coffee and says, “Tch, tch, tch, I know you people are angry about this. What is going to be done?”
My hand started jumpin’ and I was twitchin’ my pocketbook, tryin’ my best not to pop her in the mouth with that heavy plastic bag. All of a sudden, Marge, something hit me! I could feel a hotness creepin’ over me from my feet on up and when it hit my head, bells started ringin’ and I hollered at her, “What the hamfat is the matter with you? Ain’t you mad? Now you either be mad or shame, but don’t you sit there with your mouth full ‘tut-tuttin’ at me! Now if you mad, you’d of told me what you done and if you shame, you oughta be hangin’ your head instead of smackin’ your lips over them goodies!”
… Now wait a minute, Marge. Please let me finish. Mr. B. stops chewin’ with the jam fairly skeetin’ out of his mouth and says, “Don’t upset Mrs. B. We were only tryin’ to be sympathetic.” Marge! I whammed my pocketbook down on the table, put my hands on my side and started pattin’ my foot, and I yelled at him: “Don’t you worry about Mrs. B. bein’ upset ’cause if she gets too wrought up she can scream and the law, the klan and them men that ganged up on that young lady to keep her out of school, that’s right, every one of ’em will come runnin’ in here and move me off the premises piece by piece!”
At this point, Marge, he was gaspin’ and sputterin’ while she was puffin’ and blowin’ and I wheeled on him and said, “You tryin’ to tell me about you bein’ sympathetic … how do I know you wasn’t in sympathy with them grown-up men that was throwin’ eggs and stones at a defenseless colored woman? In the first place, you are white and you haven’t opened your mouth to do a thing but put toast in it, and first thing I walk in you come askin’ me what am I gonna do.”
Then guess what, Marge! Mrs. B. jumps up wavin’ her newspaper at me, talkin’ about “Go home, go home immediately, you’re in no condition to work here today!” Honey, never fear! I reached over and snatched that paper out of her hand and says, “Don’t you be wavin’ and fannin’ nothin’ in my face! My mama don’t do that!” Then Mr. B. jumps up and hollers “Are you out of your mind, snatching things like that!” … “Well,” I told him, “you can thank your lucky stars that paper is the only thing I’m snatchin’ this morning!” He tried to cut me off, but I wouldn’t let him, “If you ain’t got the grace to stand up and fight for your own decency and good name, don’t you dare ask me what I’m gonna do, because as long as you ain’t doin’ I ain’t gonna tell you, ’cause then you’d know as much as I do, and that might be too much!”
&
nbsp; Marge, I didn’t want to cry because it do look so weak, but the tears were streamin’ down and it seemed like their faces were floatin’ in a sea of water. I could hear their voices but no words, just a rush of murmurin’ in my ears. “Yes,” I went on, “black folks want decent educations and the right to work at decent jobs and also every kind of right there is! And we bein’ mobbed and killed and shot at…. That’s right, they’re shootin’ at little children ridin’ school buses! They’re shootin’ down their fathers for tryin’ to get ’em into the schools, they won’t sell us no food because we want our children educated, they turnin’ us off of jobs and tryin’ to drive us out of our homes, they draggin’ people out of their beds in the middle of the night and burnin’ them with oil and fire. And you ask me what I’m gonna do!”
Marge, the next thing you know he says real nasty-like, “When there’s a Negro crime wave, I don’t throw it in your face.” … Sit down, Marge, keep still. Girl, I opened up on him and said, “You better not! ’cause whenever a Negro does somethin’ it’s a wave, but your doggone newspapers is full of nothin’ but white folks murderin’ and robbin’ every day that the Lord sends ever since there’s been a newspaper and you folks done got so numb inside ’til you think that’s how it should be!” Then I says, “Why, I can’t turn on the television without seeing you all killin’ each other up just for the sake of entertainment. So you just keep on eatin’ your breakfast same as ever, you just keep ‘tut-tuttin’. The world’s just goin’ to pass you by.” He jumps up again and says, “Go home!” … “I’m goin’,” I says, “but remember this: everybody that don’t like the idea of white folks warrin’ on my people, everybody that feels they don’t want to be included in the mob crowd, all those kind of folks speak up and let the world know!” Yes indeed, I told him, “All those that keep quiet are with the mob whether they agree with ’em or not!”
Like One of the Family Page 16