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chronicallycouchbound · 10 months

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What’s So Wrong With Having Heroes?

When I was a little kid, I wanted to be a doctor or a veterinarian. I wanted to help heal. And even as a small child, it felt like my calling.

Most kids dream of becoming a hero. The firefighters, the builders, the astronauts. The one’s who get medals and standing ovations. There’s many very monetarily successful movies and comics about all the superheroes we dream of. The people we want to save us. At one point, I thought I could be a hero. I wanted to be.

Being a hero wasn’t an issue for me though. People started to notice acts of kindness in me, and when they held that in high regard, I did too. I did everything I could to help others. It came naturally.

I bandaged my siblings and pets and strangers up. I gave advice like a wise old man, my aunt thanked me for helping her to leave her abusive husband when I was 8. I saved two people from drowning when I was 10. I talked friends out of suicide a dozen times. I became a street medic. I have saved dozens of lives, often under extraordinary circumstances. By definition, I fit the one for ‘hero’.

And I have so many issues with it. This isn’t a humble brag.

I genuinely think that we, as a society, put certain people on pedestals that shouldn’t be. I don’t think anyone should be. The hierarchy of heroes is inequitable and unrealistic. I think we should do the right thing because it’s the right thing, not to win an award or a badge of honor.

I see headlines all the time that are just ‘hero firefighter does their job!’. They’re paid to do this, of course they’re going to do it. As an abolitionist, I see cops hailed as heroes, usually for doing the objectively right thing, and it seems to magically erase the realities of what they do, the systemic harm they perpetuate. It’s the entirety of the ‘there’s some good cops’ narrative. And it causes great detriment to our communities because it makes it seem like the police do more good than bad.

Society particularly loves to paint white, cishet, abled, rich, educated, affluent men as heroes. The ones who can save us. Our hero.

And yet we ignore the people who are saving lives left and right, like people who use drugs who Narcan their friends. Or trans youth who stay up all night with their suicidal friends. Or the street medics who set up civilian ambulances for their under-served and neglected communities.

No one’s giving them medals.

Beyond that, people aren’t checking in on heroes. I’ve heard “you’re incredible!” and “thank you” a million times, but rarely do people genuinely check in on me after I’ve rescued someone.

And I usually need it. I’m at my worst mentally and usually physically after a rescue. It often takes months or years to process those events— they are traumatic for the rescuer too. Especially those of us without formal training or those of us who have attempted to rescue someone and lost them. We’re left to drift among all of these confusing and conflicting emotions, sometimes never understanding why.

The worst thing I hear: “I could NEVER do what you did”. It breaks me apart every time.

I don’t want to be doing this alone. I don’t want to have to save people over and over. I can’t save everyone.

I have to repeat that last one like a mantra sometimes.

I can’t save everyone. And so often, I still try to. I jump in without thinking. I throw myself into danger and worry about myself last, or, never. And it usually ends with me being seriously injured.

When I’d bandage up my siblings and pets it was after our parents hit us. I stepped in front of them as often as I could. I swallowed so much water while trying to save someone from drowning because they kept pulling me under that I puked. My 20-something-year-old boyfriend I dated when I was 16 stabbed me with the knife I had just talked him out of cutting himself with. He went on to keep caving my face in and choking me until I was blue. And of course, I’ve been seriously injured dozens of times during rescues. My body physically hurts so much afterwards, let alone the emotional toll.

I have to wonder: What would happen if I didn’t step in? Would it be so bad?

But of course, my brain always answers with a thousand of the worst case scenarios— or, just with what happened anyways. Sometimes people die no matter how much you try to fight to save them. And that has to just be what it is.

I think sometimes people live, and that just has to be what it is too.

But when we ascribe people as heroes, the message we send is that some people are heroes, some people aren’t. And I feel so strongly that this isn’t true. I believe that everyone has the capacity to help others, and so often, they do so in seemingly insignificant ways, and their deeds are not recognized.

Small acts of kindness are never small.

Life saving happens in everyday, ordinary ways. Sometimes what has saved my life has been something the other person will never remember or know. The Christmas cards from the elementary schoolers sent to the homeless shelter I lived at. The partners and friends who sat with me until I was safe on my own. My friends who held my hand as my heart beat dangerously fast, their presence being all I could feel, replacing the tightness in my chest. My cat cuddling me, purring until she snores. Strangers holding doors, strangers carrying my groceries, strangers checking on me. The dozens of items from my Amazon wishlists that have kept me alive.

I wish I could say how thankful I am to the community that’s kept me alive. How every time they’ve called me a hero, it’s because they made me possible. That they’re a hero just as much as I am.

I read ‘Mutual Aid: Building Solidarity During This Crisis (And The Next)’ by Dean Spade recently. In it, Dean describes “leader-less and leader-full” movements. It’s exactly what we need in the world. Hero-less and hero-full communities. We don’t need a select few— we need communities and societies structured around giving care. We need it to be standard, not extraordinary.

Personal responsibility can lead to community responsibility. We could have thriving, beautiful communities where we all care for each other so fully that no one single person is a savior, because we are all uplifted equitably.

I urge everyone I know to be more like the heroes they uplift. To think about what values they hold in high regard in others and to apply them to their own actions. To be what they already are, and acknowledge it.

You’re included.

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dontbipanicjonsa · 3 years

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Been thinking about Dark!D*ny and

I think for me, it comes down to two things:

The utter hypocrisy re: her supposed abolitionist ways

The escalation of her power and the destruction she wreaks

Because I can't really fault her for smothering Drogo. I can't really fault her for letting Viserys die. I can't really fault her for murdering the shit out of Kraznys. I can't fault her for freeing slaves (as if). I can't even fault her for wanting revenge.

Let me explain-

I think if we compare the capture of the Lhazareen and the capture of Meereen, it paints a very clear picture of where D*ny is headed.

The Lhazareen

Ok. First, the whole 'D*ny has no power' argument has to stop. She's the khaleesi. Her husband is the khal. Of course she has power.

I'm NOT saying Drogo isn't absolutely monstrous to her. I'm not saying she chose to marry him. I'm not commenting on their relationship at all.

In a patriarchy, (upper class) women gain property/power/control over others in exchange for sexual/reproductive service. So D*ny, simply by virtue of being the khal's wife, or simply because she's pregnant with his kid (neither of which were her choice) has power.

For comparison, Cersei, who is abused by her husband, the king, still derives power from her position as Queen and mother of the princes/princess. See what I mean?

?? Drogo decides they're gonna sail to Westeros and gives his rousing speech because D*ny was almost assassinated. The attack on the Lhazareen was done in service of D*ny's conquest of Westeros. Let's repeat.

The Lhazareen were attacked to further D*ny's interests.

No, it wasn't for Rhaego, he's a fucking foetus he doesn't HAVE interests. It's not for Drogo, he doesn't give two shits about Westeros. IT"S FOR D*NY. And that is her 'power' in action. Her power, that she derives through her husband, because PatRiarChy. But power.

And you know what? Sure. It's fine. She didn't know what a bloodbath it was going to be. That's not her fault. And yeah, she IS ready to accept the bloodshed as necessary collateral. That is...a bit more questionable. But she does try to help some women.

Does she only help them because she can see their suffering? Probably. There's plenty of suffering not in her direct line of sight that she allows. But ok. Sure. It's not her job to save everyone (nevermind that they're suffering to further her interests).

The whole 'save them by marrying them to their rapists' thing makes me more sad than enraged. It's tragic. It's D*ny, making women marry their rapists in the same book where she married her rapist...thinking she's ok, thinking they would be ok too. It's the cycle of abuse in motion, right before our eyes.

This is an explanation I accept. All that bullshit about how powerless D*ny is? Pls. Women and children are being enslaved right there on the same page, so D*ny can win the IT, and she's powerless ?? stfu

Ok. I get it. She's not powerless, but how far does her power extend? COULD she have gotten away with getting all the newly enslaved Lhazareen freed? We'll never know. Does that absolve her?

Slaves, Dany thought. Khal Drogo would drive them downriver to one of the towns on Slaver's Bay. She wanted to cry, but she told herself that she must be strong. This is war, this is what it looks like, this is the price of the Iron Throne.

NO.

This- the capture and enslavement of the Lhazareen people- is a direct consequence of Viserys' ambitions, which is a torch that D*ny has now willingly taken up. THAT ^^^ is a price she's willing to pay, or rather- make others pay.

Buuuut it's fine. She's inexperienced, and her power is certainly limited, and hey she tried. Sure. Moving on.

Meereen

(TW: mentions of rape)

Fast forward four books and D*ny is approximately 100x times more powerful than she was in the Lhazareen scene. Let's see how she does now-

A boy came, younger than Dany, slight and scarred, dressed up in a frayed grey tokar trailing silver fringe. His voice broke when he told of how two of his father's household slaves had risen up the night the gate broke. One had slain his father, the other his elder brother. Both had raped his mother before killing her as well. The boy had escaped with no more than the scar upon his face, but one of the murderers was still living in his father's house, and the other had joined the queen's soldiers as one of the Mother's Men. He wanted them both hanged.

I am queen over a city built on dust and death. Dany had no choice but to deny him. She had declared a blanket pardon for all crimes committed during the sack. Nor would she punish slaves for rising up against their masters.

xxx

A former slave came, to accuse a certain noble of the Zhak. The man had recently taken to wife a freedwoman who had been the noble's bedwarmer before the city fell. The noble had taken her maidenhood, used her for his pleasure, and gotten her with child. Her new husband wanted the noble gelded for the crime of rape, and he wanted a purse of gold as well, to pay him for raising the noble's bastard as his own. Dany granted him the gold, but not the gelding. "When he lay with her, your wife was his property, to do with as he would. By law, there was no rape." Her decision did not please him, she could see, but if she gelded every man who ever forced a bedslave, she would soon rule a city of eunuchs.

SO anyway how is D*ny rating on the 'tried to prevent rape' scale?

She even went so far as to summon Irri, hoping her caresses might help ease her way to rest, but after a short while she pushed the Dothraki girl away. Irri was sweet and soft and willing, but she was not Daario.

Oh look she's in the negative :/

How's she doing on the slavery front? She's got all the power now...

"Your slave Missandei." Jhiqui had a taper in her hand.

"My servant. I have no slaves." Dany did not understand. "Why does she weep?"

xxx

There was no slavery in the free city of Pentos. Nonetheless, they were slaves.

...

D*enerys spends five books gaining power. How does this affect the condition of her people? Is the condition of the Meereenese better than the condition of the Lhazareen had been, all the way back in the first book? No. It's worse.

People have still been raped. People have still been enslaved/remained enslaved. People have starved. People have been brutally murdered. And at a much larger scale than book 1.

This is what it comes down to. D*ny is a villain because her climb to power is characterized by death and destruction, always. Isn't that the trademark of a villain?

D*ny is a girl who truly believes in her own PR, but when you look at her words and actions-

"The Good Master has said that these eunuchs cannot be tempted with coin or flesh," Dany told the girl, "but if some enemy of mine should offer them freedom for betraying me . . ."

"They would kill him out of hand and bring her his head, tell her that," the slaver answered. "Other slaves may steal and hoard up silver in hopes of buying freedom, but an Unsullied would not take it if the little mare offered it as a gift. They have no life outside their duty. They are soldiers, and that is all."

xxx

"No," she pleaded. "Save him, and I will free you, I swear it. You must know a way … some magic, some …"

...how much of her actions are truly altruistic? How much is performative?

Despite her anti-slavery rhetoric, D*ny consistently benefits from slavery- and slavery flourishes.

Despite her 'oh no I don't wanna bring death and destruction anywhere', her actions continue to bring exactly that- and it never stops her from doing it all over again the next time.

Not to dismiss her internal struggle. But really. Being upset at the thought that you might be a bad person doesn't make you a good person. For that matter, being worried if you're going mad or not...doesn't mean you're not (not that I'm saying she is). Seriously, where did that logic even come from? Ultimately, her internal struggle makes her a more compelling character, sure, but it doesn't actually make her a better person.

The point is, her story is absolutely rooted in hypocrisy. Her destructiveness only escalates with her power. Her so-called good intentions never pan out- because her own actions undermine them. And because she has the self-awareness of a pigeon, she never gets better.

She IS the villain who thinks she's a hero. She isn't just a villain because she's done bad things, but because she's utterly unaware (or deliberately obtuse) of the bad things she's done, and so she's incapable of learning, and so she's only getting worse.

Take a step outside her POV and it suddenly becomes clear.

Let's recap.

D*ny has-

Wayy more power in Meereen. Less in Lhazareen

D*ny did-

Less to prevent rape in Meereen. More in Lhazareen

D*ny benefitted from-

Slavery in Meereen. Slavery in Lhazareen

D*ny was-

A slaver in Meereen. A slaver in Lhazareen

D*ny wreaked-

Death and destruction in Meereen. Death and destruction in Lhazareen.

D*ny, riding high on her power-

Ordered the murder of children. And much more.

Power is NOT good for D*ny.

#dark!dany #anti daenerys targaryen #d**y stans do NOT interact #yea I censored her name twice just to be sure

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kellyvela · 4 years

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Fevre Dream

*mild spoilers*

-------------

I finished reading Fevre Dream a few hours ago, and I was thinking about how to describe Abner March properly? And the answer is in the very first chapter and the way he says this word:

for-mid-a-bul

Or maybe this is better:

for-mid-a-bullest

------------

The novel is full of...

LORD BYRON

GEORGE GORDON BYRON

She walks in Beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light

------------

Also

on-o-mat-o-poe-ias

More precisely, steamboats onomatopoeias

chunkachunka chunkachunka chunkachunka

whapwhapwhap whapwhapwhap whapwhapwhap

------------

The South is Dangerous

Ever since they’d left St. Louis and come downriver, things had been going wrong, and the farther south they’d come the worse they’d gotten.

—Fevre Dream

------------

Vampires call humans

The cattle

This reminds me of

Dragons did not mate with the beasts of the field, and Targaryens did not mingle their blood with that of lesser men.

—A Game of Thrones - Daenerys I

Here’s a picture of The cattle

------------

The word used by the slaves for ‘master’ is

‘massa’

Massa sounds pretty much like Mhysa, and we all know that

Mhysa is a Master

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But for certain vampire, humans aren’t cattle, humans are

Cousins!

We are cousins, both sides of the same coin.

—Fevre Dream

------------

This good vampire is

Joshua Anton York

Don’t let the pale blonde hair lies to you...

Long face, gray eyes, brooding, byronic hero (he actually met Lord Byron), protector of his people and his human cousins...

And weren’t the Yorks the inspiration for the Starks?

Does Joshua remind you of someone???

------------

Then there’s the villain

Damon Julian

With a very Targaryen name, Damon Julian is always talking about the superiority of his people and justifying their evil actions with the evil actions of The cattle, like slavery.

But Joshua York is there to call out his hypocrisy

“They burn to be like us, just as the darkies dream of being white. You see how far they go. To play at being masters, they even enslave their own kind.”

“As you do, Julian,” said Joshua York, dangerously. “What else do you call the dominion you have held over our people? Even those you call masters you make slaves to your own twisted will.”

—Fevre Dream

I see what you did there George!

------------

So, long face, gray eyes, brooding, byronic hero, surname York that sounds like Stark, protector of his people and his human cousins, caller out of entitled hypocrites... Maybe that’s why GRRM put Joshua York and Jon Snow framed fan-arts by Justin Sweet next to each other in his house:

------------

Btw, I'm still shocked about GRRM comparing catholics with vampires... because... (also the cannibalism implications...)

“Those cattle who truly know us envy us. Any of them would be as we are, given the choice.” Julian smiled maliciously.“ Have you ever wondered why this Jesus Christ of theirs bid his followers to drink his blood, if they would live forever?” He chuckled.

—Fevre Dream

I...

------------

I found a lot of things that reminds me of ASOIAF, here are my favorites:

A Wolf Howling

Across the dark moonlit waters, the Fevre Dream shrieked in triumph. It sounded like some demon wolf, thought Abner Marsh, howling after prey.

—Fevre Dream

This is not the only time wolves are mentioned in the novel, there are more telling wolves references, but you have to read them yourself.

A Pale Mare

It was well known among rivermen that having a preacher and a gray mare on board was an invitation to disaster.

—Fevre Dream

Let’s be prepared for even more disaster in Slaver’s Bay...

North & Dawn

Down from her was the side-wheeler Northern Light, with a picture of the Aurora painted gaudy on her paddle boxes.

(...)

Cap’n, why does the Northern Light have that big picture of the Aurora on her wheelhouse?

—Fevre Dream

All the ships names are very interesting, I liked this one with the Dawn (Aurora) reference. If you know what I mean...

Ashara Dayne

One of Joshua York’s love interests is Valerie Mersault, a beautiful female vampire with violet eyes and dark hair.

Melisandre

Sometimes I question whether there is an hour for my race, Abner. The nights are full of blood and terror, but the days are merciless.

—Fevre Dream

Family, People & Dothraki

If that is what you intend, Abner, then remember who I am. You are my friend, but they are blood of my blood, my people. I belong with them. I thought I was their king.

—Fevre Dream

Throughout the novel you will find a lot of similarities between the ‘night folks’ (vampires) and the Dothraki, like a lot. But the concepts of pack and family are also very strong for certain characters, mostly for Joshua and Abner.

Sweetness, Cold & Fragrance

The air was sweet and cool and full of fragrance, and he was going to get his lady back, his sweet steamer, his Fevre Dream.

—Fevre Dream

For obvious reasons, these words remind me of The Wall...

Bronze Yohn

Yellow Fever is also known as “Bronze John”. And now I’m scared about the future of Yohn Royce, known as Bronze Yohn.

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And finally, let me explain why Abner March is the

for-mid-a-bullest

This is Abner March saying goodbye to one member of his crew, a former slave, a friend:

“You know I never held much with slavery, even if I never done much against it neither. I would of, but those damned abolitionists were such Bible-thumpers. Only I been thinkin’, and it seems to me maybe they was right after all. You can’t just go . . . usin’ another kind of people, like they wasn’t people at all. Know what I mean? Got to end, sooner or later. Better if it ends peaceful, but it’s got to end even if it has to be with fire and blood, you see? Maybe that’s what them abolitionists been sayin’ all along. You try to be reasonable, that’s only right, but if it don’t work, you got to be ready. Some things is just wrong. They got to be ended.”

Toby was looking at him queerly, still absent-mindedly wiping his hands across the front of his apron, back and forth, back and forth. “Cap’n,” he said softly, “you is talkin’ abolition. This here is slave country, Cap’n. You could git kilt fo’ sech talk.”

“Maybe I could, Toby, but right is right, that’s what I say.”

“You done good by ol’ Toby, Cap’n Marsh, givin’ me my freedom and all so’s I could cook fo’ you. That you did.”

—Fevre Dream

You will probably find posts saying that “fire and blood” is not a bad thing, using this passage as proof. But the context is important, here is an ordinary white man saying these words, as a good bye, to a friend. This is not from a master or slaver looking for redemption or using this statement as good propaganda for his own agenda.

Also take note that “fire and blood” should never be the first option.

I would have come for you

“You should have just asked me,” Marsh said. “You could have told me the goddamned truth.”

“I did not know if you would come to save my people. I knew you would come for her.”

“I would have come for you, damn it. We’re partners, ain’t we? Well, ain’t we?”

Joshua York regarded him with quiet gravity. “Yes,” he said.

—Fevre Dream

Doing right

“We all got to make choices,” Marsh said. “You told me that, Joshua, and you was right. Them choices ain’t always easy. Someday you’re goin’ to have to choose, I think. Between your night folks and . . . well, call it good. Doing right. You know what I mean. Make the right choice, Joshua.”

“And you, Abner. Make your own choices wisely.”

—Fevre Dream

As William Faulkner said: “The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself”. This is a rule that GRRM always follows.

------------

A time ago, someone asked me: “Have you read fevre dream? I haven't but I want to know your opinion - whether you consider the ending to be hopeful or not?”

I would say, the ending is more than hopeful.

Let’s make a toast!

To the goddamned Fevre Dream!” he said. They drank together.

—Fevre Dream

------------

It was a creepy but also fun ride...

chunkachunka chunkachunka chunkachunka chunkachunka chunkachunka chunkachunka chunkachunka chunkachunka chunkachunka

#Fevre Dream #GRRM #Joshua York #Damon Julian #spoilers

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protectblackchildren · 5 years

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OVERLOOKED

These remarkable black men and women never received obituaries in The New York Times — until now. We’re adding their stories to our project about prominent people whose deaths were not reported by the newspaper.

Since 1851, The New York Times has published thousands of obituaries, capturing the lives and legacies of people who have influenced the world in which we live.

But many important figures were left out.

Overlooked reveals the stories of some of those remarkable people.

We started the series last year by focusing on women like Sylvia Plath, the postwar poet; Emma Gatewood, the hiking grandmother who captivated a nation; and Ana Mendieta, the Cuban artist whose work was bold, raw and sometimes violent. We added to that collection each week.

Now, this special edition of Overlooked highlights a prominent group of black men and women whose lives we did not examine at the time of their deaths.

Many of them were a generation removed from slavery. They often attempted to break the same barriers again and again. Sometimes they made myth out of a painful history, misrepresenting their past to gain a better footing in their future. Some managed to achieve success in their lifetimes, only to die penniless, buried in unmarked graves. But all were pioneers, shaping our world and making paths for future generations.

We hope you’ll spread the word about Overlooked — and tell us who else we missed.

Read about the project’s first year, and use this form to nominate a candidate for future Overlooked obits.

1907-1960

Gladys Bentley

A gender-bending blues performer who became 1920s Harlem royalty.

BY GIOVANNI RUSSONELLO

When it comes to loosening social mores, progress that isn’t made in private has often taken place onstage.

That was certainly the case at the Clam House, a Prohibition-era speakeasy in Harlem, where Gladys Bentley, one of the boldest performers of her era, held court.

1867-1917

Scott Joplin

A pianist and ragtime master who wrote “The Entertainer” and the groundbreaking opera “Treemonisha.”

BY WIL HAYGOOD

When Scott Joplin’s father left the North Carolina plantation where he had been born a slave, there was one thing he wanted to hold on to: the echoes of the Negro spirituals he had heard in the fields. In those songs he found a sense of uplift, hope and possibility.

In the post-Civil War era, the cruel breath of slavery and the aborted plan of Reconstruction still hung over the American South. But in the Joplin home, banjo and fiddle music filled the family’s evenings, giving the children — Scott in particular — a sense of music’s power to move.

1834-1858

Margaret Garner

In one soul-chilling moment, she killed her own daughter rather than return her to the horrors of slavery.

BY REBECCA CARROLL

Margaret garner, who was born as an enslaved girl, almost certainly did not plan to kill her child when she grew up and became an enslaved mother.

But she also couldn’t yet know that the physical, emotional and psychological violence of slavery, relentless and horrific, would one day conspire to force her maternal judgment in a moment already fraught with grave imperative.

1878-1932

Major Taylor

A world champion bicycle racer whose fame was undermined by prejudice.

BY RANDAL C. ARCHIBOLD

More than 100 years ago, one of the most popular spectator sports in the world was bicycle racing, and one of the most popular racers was a squat, strapping man with bulging thighs named Major Taylor.

He set records in his teens and was a world champion at 20. He traveled the globe, racing as far away as Australia, and amassed wealth among the greatest of any athlete of his time. Thousands of people flocked to see him; newspapers fawned over him.

1905-2001

Zelda Wynn Valdes

A fashion designer who outfitted the glittery stars of screen and stage.

BY TANISHA C. FORD

More than a half century before a “curvy” model made the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, and before hashtags like #allbodiesaregoodbodies, there was a designer who knew that it was the job of clothes to fit the woman, not vice versa.

Zelda Wynn Valdes was a designer to the stars who could fit a dress to a body of any size — even if she had to do so just by looking at the client. “I only fit her once in 12 years,” Valdes told The New York Times in 1994 of her long-time client Ella Fitzgerald, “I had to do everything by imagination for her.” Valdes would simply look at Fitzgerald in the latest paper, noting any changes in her full-figured body, and would design the elaborate gowns — with beads and appliques — that she knew Fitzgerald loved.

1941-1970

Alfred Hair

A charismatic businessman who created a movement for Florida’s black artists.

BY GORDON K. HURD

“Well-Known Artist Alfred Hair Slain,” read the headline in The Fort Pierce News Tribune newspaper in Florida.

But before he was killed in a barroom brawl on Aug. 9, 1970, at just 29, Hair had become more than just an artist. With his drive, charisma and business acumen, he helped start a collective of Floridian artists, all African-American, who painted vibrant landscapes of their home state. They would later come to be known as The Florida Highwaymen, or more simply The Highwaymen.

1912-1967

Nina Mae McKinney

An actress who defied the barrier of race to find stardom in Europe.

BY ANITA GATES

About 20 minutes into “Hallelujah,” Hollywood’s first all-sound feature with an all-black cast, Nina Mae McKinney appeared on screen as Chick, a singer and dancer, in a sexy flapper dress.

She had flashing eyes, an armful of jangly bracelets, and no qualms about cheating a handsome young cotton farmer out of the money he had just gotten for his family’s crop.

1856-1910

Granville T. Woods

An inventor known as the ‘Black Edison.’ He found that recognition came at a hefty price.

BY AMISHA PADNANI

He carefully sealed the drawings in a mailing tube and quietly placed them out of sight from his business partner, then went to a meeting.

But when he returned, Granville T. Woods found that his drawings — a design for a novel invention that held the potential to revolutionize transportation around the world — were gone.

1884-1951

Oscar Micheaux

A pioneering filmmaker prefiguring independent directors like Spike Lee and Tyler Perry.

BY MONICA DRAKE

Almost as soon as you settle in to watch the 1939 melodrama “Lying Lips,” you can figure out who is the victim, who is the villain and who is the hero. And even if you know how it all will end, you want to watch anyway.

That was the beauty of the filmmaker Oscar Micheaux. He made you want to soak up the exuberance he clearly felt in delivering a whole new way of telling stories.

1814-1907

Mary Ellen Pleasant

Born into slavery, she became a Gold Rush-era millionaire and a powerful abolitionist.

BY VERONICA CHAMBERS

When the abolitionist John Brown was hanged on Dec. 2, 1859, for murder and treason, a note found in his pocket read, “The ax is laid at the foot of the tree. When the first blow is struck, there will be more money to help.” Officials most likely believed it was written by a wealthy Northerner who had helped fund Brown’s attempt to incite, and arm, an enormous slave uprising by taking over an arsenal at Harpers Ferry in Virginia. No one suspected that the note was written by a black woman named Mary Ellen Pleasant.

In 1901, an elderly Pleasant dictated her autobiography to the journalist Sam Davis. As Lynn Hudson writes in the book “The Making of ‘Mammy Pleasant’: A Black Entrepreneur in Nineteenth-Century San Francisco,” Pleasant told Davis, “Before I pass away, I wish to clear the identity of the party who furnished John Brown with most of his money to start the fight at Harpers Ferry and who signed the letter found on him when he was arrested.” The sum she donated was $30,000 — almost $900,000 in today’s dollars.

1827-1901

Elizabeth Jennings

Life experiences primed her to fight for racial equality. Her moment came on a streetcar ride to church.

BY SAM ROBERTS

Because she was running behind one Sunday morning, Elizabeth Jennings turned out to be a century ahead of her time.

She was a teacher in her 20s, on her way to the First Colored American Congregational Church in Lower Manhattan, where she was the regular organist, when a conductor ordered her off a horse-drawn Third Avenue trolley and told her to wait for a car reserved for black passengers.

1876-1917

Philip A. Payton Jr.

A real estate magnate who turned Harlem into a black mecca.

BY ADEEL HASSAN

“Human hives, honeycombed with little rooms thick with human beings,” is how a white journalist and co-founder of the N.A.A.C.P., Mary White Ovington, described the filthy tenements that black New Yorkers were relegated to at the turn of the 20th century.

As more rural Southerners arrived in the city, the teeming Manhattan slums in which African-Americans were living had become the most densely populated streets in the city, nearly 5,000 people per block, according to one count, as landlords rented almost exclusively to white tenants.

1857-1924

Moses Fleetwood Walker

The first black baseball player in the big leagues, even before Jackie Robinson.

BY RICHARD GOLDSTEIN

When Jackie Robinson joined the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947, becoming the first African-American player in modern major league baseball, he was not only a trailblazer in the sports world, but an inspiring figure in the modern civil rights movement.

But Robinson was not the first ballplayer in the long history of big league baseball known to be an African-American. That distinction belongs to Moses Fleetwood Walker.

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/obituaries/black-history-month-overlooked.html?smtyp=cur&smid=tw-nytimes

#Emma Gatewood #Gladys Bentley #Scott Joplin #Margaret Garner #Major Taylor #Zelda Wynn Valdes #Alfred Hair #Nina Mae McKinney #Granville T. Woods #Oscar Micheaux #Mary Ellen Pleasant #Elizabeth Jennings #Philip A. Payton Jr.#Moses Fleetwood Walker #Ana Mendieta #NYT

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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The Good Lord Bird Episode 1 Review: Meet the Lord

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This The Good Lord Bird review contains spoilers.

Who was John Brown, really? A hero or a madman? A visionary as divinely driven as Moses in the Good Book, or a bloodthirsty zealot who participated in murderous acts of terrorism? It’s a big question that’s pestered American history for centuries, and even Brown’s lifetime. As Showtime’s new series The Good Lord Bird reminds folks in its first episode, before his failed raid on Harper’s Ferry escalated tensions to a fever pitch in the prelude to the Civil War, Brown was one of the most celebrated (or notorious) roustabouts in the Kansas territory during its “bleeding.”

In his lifetime he was seen as a militant leader for the abolitionist cause, and therefore a menace to Pro-Slavery forces in Kansas, Missouri, and the other areas that began practicing their “Border War” well before South Carolinians fired on Fort Sumter in 1861. In death, his legend was the impetus for the original version of the “Battle Hymn of the Republic” and a mural that still draws criticism in the Kansas State Capitol building, in which Brown’s depicted as holding a Bible in one hand, open at the Book of Revelations, and a rifle in the other. A bloodstained messiah.

The complicated nature of the man’s legacy is likely a key reason Hollywood has relatively steered clear of the figure—that and the Southern Revisionism “Lost Cause” myth America placated during most of the 20th century, which saw Brown as nothing more than a terrorist. Quentin Tarantino at one point mused about making a John Brown movie that would’ve probably been about as nuanced as the last half hour of Django Unchained, but told strictly from the point-of-view of a white savior. I suspect we’re lucky we finally got The Good Lord Bird instead.

Culture

Ethan Hawke and Paul Schrader Find Spiritualism Onscreen with First Reformed

By David Crow

Movies

Tesla Review: Ethan Hawke’s Spark of Madness

By David Crow

Based on James McBride’s award winning novel, which I admittedly have never read, the new Showtime miniseries charged out of the gate with a sweaty, bug nut premiere that breathes as much fire as Ethan Hawke’s tremendous approximation of Old Man Brown. McBride’s book has been compared to Mark Twain, and even from a fraction of the series it’s easy to see why. While we have yet to truly know Joshua Caleb Johnson’s Henry Shackleford—mistakenly dubbed Henrietta and then Onion by Brown—his perspective on the pistol-wielding abolitionist opens up the series to evaluate Brown in all his paradoxes and hypocrisies, with a wary sense of irony and folksy detachment.

As narrated by Johnson’s voiceover, Onion muses, “Some Black folks love him, they think trouble needed to be stirred. Some Black folks hate him for thinking he was some sort of bullshit white savior.” Framing the question of John Brown in this context is key to the success of the series’ first hour; it’s also the key for getting to know the man’s biggest legacy. For what perhaps matters most today is how he’s perceived by the oft-marginalized Black perspective he claimed to live and die for. And from this vantage, the truth is somewhat more aloof than any single mural can demonstrate.

Through the eyes of Onion, and later another liberated (and conscripted) slave named Bob (Hubert Point-Du Jour), we can view Brown as a figure of righteousness and ridiculousness, a leader and a lunatic. All of this is apparent in how he liberates of Onion with a condescending paternalism that’s as ludicrous as the dress that Onion wears.

Indeed, the opening scene of the series begins with Brown’s face totally obscured. In his mind, this is probably a moment of Robin Hood like deception and adventurism, and the way it’s crafted by Hawke and Mark Richard’s teleplay looks something closer to Clint Eastwood’s “Man with No Name” entrance in a Spaghetti Western. Yet for all of Brown’s braggadocio as he rightly condemns the wickedness of slavery and the atrocities committed by red shirted (Pro-Slavery) radicals in the territory, the scene is mostly filmed from the perspective of young Henry and his father; the latter an enslaved man who gets slaughtered in the crossfire of Brown’s antics. So how does Brown honors the old man’s memory? He frees his son, but with an extreme amount possessiveness. He doesn’t even bother to actually learn the lad’s real name… or that he’s a lad.

Unable to see the smooth lines of Johnson’s face are the countenance of youth—and perhaps not looking too closely at the Black faces he claims to view as his own kin—Brown perceives Henry as a girl, and nothing more, and further renames “her” as Onion. Because her identity or experiences before she met him is inconsequential. She should just be glad she is free to follow his riders through Bleeding Kansas.

“Whatever he believed, he believed. Doesn’t matter whether it was true or not. He was a real white man.” In this way, The Good Lord Bird implements a modern understanding of white privilege on the historic personage of John Brown without betraying the actual history, or at least the legend of the man. Because as the rest of the hour attests, the individual facts of John Brown’s life matter less than an exploration of his legend and why it still matters. The way Onion, at least for now, goes along with Brown’s insistence that he should wear a dress and be treated as a lady, as well as the way Brown forces a long knife in Bob’s hand, lightly touches on the intense entitlement of a self-appointed white savior. Yet the real appeal of The Good Lord Bird as a series is it doesn’t appear interested in evaluating these characters from a strictly modern gaze, or only wishing to dip its toe in the shallow end of the pool when it comes to diving into Brown’s psychology.

“Meet the Lord” is a guns blazing showcase for Hawke as both an actor and co-writer. Straining his voice to the point where it sounds like fingernails being drawn across the inside of his throat, and alternating his glances somewhere between dead-eyed and hellfire, Hawke’s protagonist makes for an immediately bemusing and endearing figure. His cause is just, and the more he rants about it like a broken video game NPC trapped in a dialogue loop, the more his madness flirts with likability.

During the climax of the first episode, the Battle of Black Jack, he is ranting about God protecting them because they have a woman on their side, and yet he also is taking a moment between gunshots to sift through the belongings of a dead ally, stating, “If you don’t make time for God, God will make time for you” as he pockets a gold watch. It’s not that he is a hypocrite; he’s just delightfully oblivious, unconcerned or unaware that as he approaches battle, white followers are quietly ducking out behind him as they ride into the woods.

And yet, this is contradicted by an earlier scene, in which director Albert Hughes’ usually wry direction suddenly becomes as bleakly ominous as a modern horror movie (Jason Blum is also an executive producer on the series). While as far as I’m aware, the real Brown only executed men believed to be slave hunters, such barbarism is depicted here as befalling a man who doesn’t even own slaves… he just wishes he could afford them and votes to make Kansas a slave state. A dim Red Shirt follower, whether this farmer committed any actual violence against a Black body or Free Stater is ambiguous. Even if he participated in raid on Lawrence (which he denies), that technically only led to one Pro-Slavery follower’s death.

Thus suddenly all the demented folksiness that makes Hawke’s performance inviting in other scenes is recast by the long shadows of candlelight, and the lower angled framing of a horror movie villain. And that contradiction is not hand-waved away or even grappled with. Brown is a man who lives and breathes abolition, but has no qualms about decapitating a family man whose culpability may be strictly in his own mind. It is refreshing to see modern television living in the muddy grays of humanity, as opposed to just blacks and whites, which is increasingly becoming the norm.

It’s all aided by Hawke’s performance, which could risk becoming parody if not for the actor’s absolute conviction in every grandiose rambling. In fact, it’s such a big performance the first hour’s one shortcoming is it doesn’t have a lot of room for anyone else to standout. It is only the first hour, so I’ll reserve judgment on how circumspect Onion remains despite being the narrator of the story, but Brown’s sons, and their interpersonal conflicts, felt obligatory despite taking up a fair amount of screen time. So much so that when one of Brown’s allies—a reverend who rode with Free Staters, yet took inexplicably took umbrage at being forced to ride with a Black girl—murders John’s most dim-witted son, the tragedy and significance of the slaying appears muted and papered over.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Prior to his death, Frederick Brown (Duke Davis Roberts) introduces Onion to a Good Lord Bird, saying in so many words that the creature brings you luck. It’s currently unclear if Brown is the good luck Onion needs or if it’s the other way around, but the first hour at least established a serendipitous rapport between these two. While most of Onion’s thoughts on this real white man are kept to himself in the narration, both that voiceover’s cadence and the overall tone of the series is executed with sing-song-y appeal. Likely pulling in large chunks from McBride’s own text, the show enjoys an acuity of dialogue that paints its subject matter vividly, even when he’s pontificating some authentic frontier gibberish. All of which makes this Good Lord Bird soar fairly high in its maiden voyage.

The post The Good Lord Bird Episode 1 Review: Meet the Lord appeared first on Den of Geek.

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hollywoodjuliorivas · 4 years

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From the Civil War to the football field, we have been celebrating the wrong values

Capt. Norwood Penrose Hallowell

Capt. Norwood Penrose Hallowell (Collection of the Massachusetts Historical Society)

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Sally Jenkins

Columnist

June 11, 2020 at 3:16 a.m. PDT

There are a half-dozen statues of Stonewall Jackson peering from pedestals, so tall he can see over three states. For a representation of Pen Hallowell, you can find only an archival photograph of a mildly handsome bearded young man in plain tunic, one hand holding a forage cap, the other resting lightly on a sword. Even in that, though, you can see his easy athleticism and his backbone.

It’s not really your fault if you don’t know who Hallowell was. His life and slim writings largely have been buried by “Gone With the Wind” nonsense. They should be revived and made required reading in locker rooms. Maybe then there wouldn’t be so many misconceptions about what constitute guts. Or such a romance with that over-glossed traitor Robert E. Lee and all the other Reb glorification that has haunted our sports fields, police stations, military bases and halls of justice.

American football always has been associated with warrior culture. We have fancied it trained young men to be good leaders, made “field generals” out of them, until it has become associated with what cultural historian Michael Oriard has called “a brand of flag-waving more like superpatriotism.” In truth, just like our statues and monuments, somehow we let the priorities become misplaced. The good teammate must show conformity and mindless allegiance rather than principle, keep his mouth shut and subsume himself and all of his personal colors and convictions in, say, team crimson. Instead of immortalizing Hallowell, we forgot him.

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Hallowell “was a power in Harvard athletics,” according to one of the earliest histories of football, who enlisted in the Union Army in 1861 just after graduating. But what you can be sure of is that he was a hell of a rower and a swimmer. During the Battle of Ball’s Bluff, the 22-year-old swam across the Potomac River three times through bullet-pocked water to rescue trapped and wounded comrades. You can get an additional idea of Hallowell’s virtuosity from the fact that his son Jack was a two-time all-American end in football and his grandson Norwood Penrose III was a runner who finished sixth in the 1,500 meters at the 1932 Summer Olympics before serving aboard warships in World War II.

Jerry Brewer: Black and white teammates know: Conflict is inevitable; winners confront it

Pen Hallowell had something more than physical courage, and so did his elder brother, Edward “Ned” Needles Hallowell. “The Fighting Quakers,” as they were nicknamed, were sons of a Philadelphia abolitionist whose home was a stop on the Underground Railroad. As boys they spirited fugitive slaves to safety in the family carriage. As men they volunteered as officers with the legendary all-black 54th and 55th Massachusetts regiments.

As for Ned Hallowell, he was shot three times charging with the left wing of the martyred 54th Massachusetts at Fort Wagner, just behind his doomed friend Robert Gould Shaw. With Shaw’s body lying in a sandy ditch with his troops, Ned Hallowell assumed command of the regiment. Assigned the rear guard during a perilous retreat in a battle called Olustee, he and his men spent 20,000 cartridges checking the Confederates and then countermarched to save a train of intermingled black and white wounded soldiers that had broken down. When they couldn’t fix the motor, they attached ropes to the engine cars and manually hauled that bloody train to safety, with Confederate gunfire guttering at their backs.

While those men were towing a locomotive by ropes, Pen Hallowell was beating in the doors of Congress trying to get them paid equal to white soldiers. The 54th and 55th were offered just $7 a month, while white soldiers got $13. Largely thanks to the brothers’ efforts, Congress finally approved equal pay for black soldiers in 1864.

Why bring any of this up? Because it’s an example of what black-white alliances can do, for one thing. Because Sunday is Flag Day, for another. And because every well-meaning but unread white athlete, coach, owner, athletic director and sportswriter needs to understand that Pen Hallowell, to whom black lives really did matter, lost his war. And football had no small part in that.

The vague phrase “systemic racism” is not just perpetuated by men with badges. It’s also propagated by our false victory narratives. There have been few more powerful cultural narrators than the NFL and the NCAA, with their close association with military triumphalism. They have been terrible teachers of historical truth, lousy with misplaced definitions of valor. Pen Hallowell was alive to hear Harvard football coach W. Cameron Forbes declare in 1900 that American football was “the expression of strength of the Anglo-Saxon. It is the dominant spirit of the dominant race, and to this it owes its popularity and its hope of permanence.”

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Steve Kerr believes Colin Kaepernick will ‘ultimately be considered a hero’ for protests

Then there was that Princeton academic and assistant football coach named Woodrow Wilson, who rewrote the Civil War in volumes of purported American history so racist that they enraged Hallowell because they so “abounded with apologies for slavery.”

Hallowell tried to fight back in the post-war battle of values. He wrote essays and speeches devoted to the bravery of black soldiers and those conscientious outliers, abolitionists. On Memorial Day in 1896, he gave a remembrance address at Harvard. Sickened by romantic war myths in which the treachery and slave-driving of the Confederacy were painted over as cavalier spirit, Hallowell said, “To ignore the irreconcilable distinction between the cause of the North and that of the South is to degrade the war.”

Yet isn’t that what we have done? We have degraded that war — to the point that we hardly know what real honor is anymore, much less how to coach it on our playing fields. Degraded it until Colin Kaepernick was reviled for a simple show of conscience on racism. Degraded it until racial justice and the flag seemed in such conflict that a decent man such as Drew Brees couldn’t think clearly and make a clean judgment. Degraded it to the point that Pen Hallowell has faded to a relative obscurity, except among war buffs and historians, while the University of Mississippi kept Colonel Reb as a mascot until 2003. Even now frat boys will dress in the costumes of traitors to the flag at cotillions, without the first blush of hot shame.

Thomas Boswell: It’s not which sports figures are speaking out that’s telling. It’s how many.

It’s the 21st century, yet 85 percent of the authorities in the Football Bowl Subdivision, the coaches, athletic directors, chancellors, presidents and conference commissioners who run it, are white. So are 28 of the NFL’s 32 head coaches. Almost all of them say they are trying to figure out how to “support” black players. As they filter back to their campuses and team facilities, there are a lot of hard conversations about race and patriotism. Whether to emulate the bent knee of Kaepernick in protest. Whether to support Deshaun Watson and DeAndre Hopkins in their quest to efface John C. Calhoun, who called slavery “a positive good,” from Clemson’s campus.

If we want football to be something worth preserving, we should demand that it celebrates the right qualities — and people.

Here’s a helpful suggestion to the coaches: Try reading a little Hallowell on the subject of what it is to really fight for each other. In the slim volumes produced by that genuine patriot and war hero are some things that may surprise them. For instance, Nick Saban and his Alabama players probably don’t know that after the war Hallowell helped finance a private school for black students in Calhoun, Ala., with Booker T. Washington.

But most important is what Hallowell has to teach about courage and protest. “The courage necessary to face death in battle is not of the highest order,” Hallowell wrote. He saw a “higher and rarer courage” in the “long suffering and patient endurance” of the soldiers so invested in their equal pay protest that they fought for 18 months without accepting a cent until they won fair treatment.

Hallowell and his brother are buried in Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Mass., with headstones so small they seem like chips compared with Confederate monuments. When Hallowell finally died in 1914, his close friend and compatriot Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. called him “the most generously gallant spirit, and I don’t know but the greatest soul I ever knew.” If there was a peerless man who deserves to be on a height, it’s Pen Hallowell. Yet look what we have done to him. Look what we have done to all of us.

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Sally Jenkins

Sally Jenkins is a sports columnist for The Washington Post. She began her second stint at The Washington Post in 2000 after spending the previous decade working as a book author and as a magazine writer.

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john-laurens-the-turtle · 6 years

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Novel Draft...So Far

Introduction Dear reader, unfortunately we humans, have a tendency to forget. I know, we think we’re good at recalling the stories of those who lived before us. The cold hard truth is that we are not. Many honest heroes have become nothing but dust in the expanse of our memories. My job is to commemorate the fable of one specific unacknowledged martyr. A man, who truly understood the meaning of freedom in a time when the meaning was so easily misunderstood. An unlikely hero of an unlikely cause with an unlikely backstory. A truly under appreciated man who we have lost at the hands of the enemy. He once stood proudly as the son of a successful merchant and the trusted aide of our nation’s first leader. Now he has been confined to nothing more than pieces of paper in our forever neglectful collective knowledge. But from those little bits of knowledge over his very existence. We can tell various aspects of who he was. For example we can tell that he was a passionate abolitionist, and a former aide-de-camp to none other than, General George Washington himself. However perhaps the most important and crucial pice of information we still contain about him, something we consider essential to ones character. We have his name, John Laurens, born and raised on a plantation just outside of Charleston, South Carolina. A slave trader’s eldest son. I did not write this book merely to tell you what this man accomplished. I have written this book to paint the portrait of his life. John Laurens was far more than just a name on a letter. John Laurens was far more than just Henry Laurens’ eldest. John Laurens was an abolitionist, a patriot and above all else a hero. He somehow managed to befriend a man who had little liking towards others. He managed to take a stand for what he believed in against his father. But most importantly he gave his life for a cause he so strongly believed in. It was his duty to die for it and it is my duty to honor it. I am done with the useless hatred flung at his death. Historians minimize it to nothing more than a meaningless skirmish in the Carolina low country. What they are forgetting is why he was in the skirmish in the first place. Who he was leading. The army he led them in, and the state he died in. John Laurens did not die for nothing, John Laurens did not die to be forgotten. He died for the hope of the death of slavery and the birth of true freedom. It has become rather clear to me that since most refuse to I must be the one tasked with this meaningful responsibility. I will not allow anyone to forget his name. By the end of this book his name will be etched in your brain never to be forgotten again. John Laurens will become more than just a meaningless name. John Laurens will become your hero as he is mine. His name will no longer only be seen when accompanying another’s. This man has left me with more questions than answers. Why was he so obsessed with dying in battle? What got him into the abolishment of slavery in the first place? What drew him to Hamilton? Why did he attract Hamilton so fervently? Who was he? This man has managed to stir up aspiration deep inside of e that I never knew I had. Never have I felt more determined to write something than now. Never have I felt more disgraced, than now. How could I have let him slip under my nose? When did I become so clueless? I must fight for the honor of his legacy, as he did for the brith of our nation. The very fact that I live happy and free from the reign of a king is because of him and so many others like him. John Laurens’ story has made me so aware of how much I take for granted. John Laurens taught me the story of not just a soldier but of a man truly fighting for his ambitions. John Laurens was more than just a patriot. He was more than just an abolitionist. John Laurens is my hero. Chapter I Mepkin Plantation, South Carolina, 1764 A slight breeze tickled my skin as it swept across the land. It rustled the leaves in ancient oaks and blew the grass surrounding me in all sorts of directions. The overwhelming sound of cicadas flooded my mind. I giggled as a new sound joined the chorus of nature, t’was a bird . By the sound of the tune I could make out that it was a beautiful bluebird, with feathers as blue as the Ashlee River, that ran by our home. I had taught myself the different sounds of the birds on my free time, when I was not studying. I often loved to imagine what it would be like to be a bird to be able to fly away whenever trouble arose. To have such a beautiful voice that no one ignores. The birds at Mepkin, our plantation, were the most beautiful of all. They had gorgeous feathers and songs, oh how I loved them. Alas I loved all of it, the beauty of nature, the peace and simplicity of it all. I longed greatly for time to freeze and capture this moment of serenity. “Ah, Jack That’s where you wandered off to!” My attention was drawn away as my mother was overcome with laughter. She seemed a bit bewildered at the sight of me, laying in the grass. Although she didn’t seem too surprised by the sight. Of course I, John her eldest child, would be found laying here in the grass with no particular purpose other than to enjoy myself. “Sorry mama, tis just so gorgeous out today! Don't you think?” I carefully chose my words to explain the situation to my dear mother. In truth, I had run off from my studies and escaped to the outdoors. If I didn’t elaborate then I wouldn’t be lying. “Indeed…” She looked me up and down with a raised eyebrow. “But so are those books, Jack. Make haste indoors, my dear boy. Then after Mr.Brown leaves you may play out here.”   “Yes, mother.” I bowed my head with a smile as I stood up, to dash into the big wooden house that I called home. My tutor William Brown, was sitting in the library just where I’d left him patiently waiting with the books for me to continue. At this point, Mr.Brown was used to my little adventures. When I had run outside the fifth time he began to realize a bit of time outside helped me focus later on. “You know John, you’re getting too old for these escapes, pretty soon you will have to stay in here with me for the entire day. And not long after that you’ll find yourself in a fine college.” Mr.Brown had a habit of maintaining a neutral expression, so you could never truly tell whether he was or not. His lips remained a straight line and his dark brown eyes tore through me. This was my life, constantly being forced into a future I did not wish to pursue. My father Henry Laurens, was one of the most wealthy men in all the colonies. Although he owned many plantations the one we lived at was called Mepkin, just outside of Charleston, South Carolina. Mepkin was beautiful in the Spring when everything was blooming. Particularly now in April, the fresh magnolia blossoms brought with them an amazing scent that gave me a sense of hope. If it were up to me I would stay outside all day inhaling nature, exhaling stress. When my father realized I was inseparable from nature, he decided that he would gift me with a fine sketch book at my next birthday assuming I completed my studies. When life got dull and my studies bored me, I would imagine the many possibilities of things I would sketch. I would sketch nature. The various birds I heard daily, the trees that surrounding me, perhaps even some of the fish in the nearby Ashlee. But most importantly, I would sketch the magnolia trees. Their beautiful flowers would be the focus of my art, white petals like silk upon a fine gown. The scent filled the stuffy Carolina air like sweet perfume. Sweet Carolinian perfume that only the finest ladies of Charleston would wear. My mother says when my mind gets stuck on something it never lets go. Like when I would “accidentally” get molasses on my fingers and couldn’t wash it off. That was always the way my mind was when it came to nature. When I was outdoors I never could seem to leave. My mind could be one place but my body, another. Whenever it would be that I did leave Mepkin , I would always be able to take this part of it with me. The beauty on our plantations grounds brought reality to its brink. If only the world could stay this perfect. “I understand sir.” I nodded and sat down at the table, resisting the temptation to stare at the window. “Good. I believe we had just been going over ancient Greece. Specifically the tale of Achilles. Tell me, who was Achilles?” Mr.Brown raised an eyebrow, somewhat challenging me to real our previous studies. I could accept the challenge.   “Achilles was a Greek mythological hero, featured in Homer’s Iliad. He is described as the hero of the Trojan war and a man of good morals. He was part man, part god, a demigod. He had a friend…Patroclus-“ “And he matters not! What I mean, child, is that his story is unimportant to that of Achilles. You must understand that not everyone’s story matters. But yours, young Laurens, will matter. It must for your father’s sake. Am I clear?” “Yes teacher,” I nodded, I understood it al perfectly well. It was all clear as glass to me. The purpose is for me to form a legacy, a story that matters. For I surely cannot be forgotten. My father is one of the most wealthy men of the colonies. Not only that, but he is also a veteran of the French and Indian War. How am I to live up to the name he has left me to fulfill? Although I love my father much, he has made my ability to be who I wish unfathomable. Three long hours later, my mother stood at the door to the study. Young HenryJr., her arms at her hip. Henry had been born last year and what a that marvel to my parents t’was he. Now, not only did they have one son, but two. I had been the fourth child of my dear parents, but I was the first to live. Until the age of five when it was clear that I indeed would live on without constant concern, of course there was always smallpox, but that matters not, I was informed that I must live. I am the surviver and I must succeed at all aspects life. For I am my father’s son, I am John Laurens.

“Mother, must I have to stay home on the ‘morrow, can’t I join father when he goes into Charles Town?” “Dear boy, your father needs you to stay here to ensure that we stay safe and so that your father can give the proper attention to the building of our new home.

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themortallivinggod · 6 years

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Madison Washington and the Creole Rebellion

During the fall of 1841, Madison Washington, a self-emancipated former slave from Virginia, knocked on the door of Robert Purvis in Philadelphia as he was on his way back south to assist his wife’s escape from bondage. Washington had certainly come to the right place. Purvis had been active for several years in the Vigilance Committee and the Underground Railroad. He remembered, years later, “I was at that time in charge of the work of assisting fugitive slaves to escape.” Purvis already knew Washington because he had helped him gain his freedom by getting to Canada two years earlier. Washington had since “opened correspondence with a young white man in the South,” who had promised to ferry his wife away from her plantation and to bring her to an appointed place so that the two of them could then escape northward. Purvis did not like the plan. He had witnessed others undertake such dangerous labors of love and fail. He was sure that his visitor would be captured and reenslaved. Washington, however, was determined to carry on.

By coincidence Washington arrived at the abolitionist’s home on the very same day a painting was delivered: Nathaniel Jocelyn’s portrait, “Sinque, the Hero of the Amistad,” as Purvis called it. It so happened that Cinque and twenty-one other Amistad Africans had also been in Purvis’s large, majestic home on the northwest corner of Sixteenth and Mount Vernon streets, when they visited Philadelphia on their fund-raising tour of May 1841. (Cinque later sent a message, “Tell Mr. Purvis to send me my hat.”) Purvis had long been inspired by the Amistad struggle and in late 184o–early 1841, as the Supreme Court prepared to rule on the case, he commissioned Jocelyn to paint the portrait.

Washington took a keen interest in the painting and the story behind it. When Purvis told him about Cinque and his comrades, Washington “drank in every word and greatly admired the hero’s courage and intelligence.” Washington soon departed, headed south-ward in search of his wife, but he never returned, as he had hoped to do in retracing his steps toward Canada. Someone betrayed him, as Purvis had predicted (and only learned some years later). Washington was “captured while escaping with his wife.” He was clapped into chains again and placed on board a domestic slave ship called the Creole, bound from Virginia to New Orleans in November 1841.

As the Creole set sail, Washington remembered Cinque’s story—the courage and the intelligence, the plan and the victory. Working as a cook aboard the vessel, which allowed him easy communication with his shipmates, Washington began to organize. With eighteen others he rose up, killed a slave-trading agent, wounded the captain severely, seized control of the ship, and liberated a hundred and thirty fellow Africans and African Americans. Wary of trickery, Washington forced the mate to navigate the vessel to Nassau in the Bahama Islands, where the British had abolished slavery three years earlier. In Nassau harbor they met black boatmen and soldiers, who sympathized with the emancipation from below and took charge of the Creole, supporting the rebels and insuring their victory.

Representatives of the federal government literally screamed bloody murder, just as those of Spain had done two years earlier, following the rebellion aboard the Amistad. They demanded the return of the slaves, who must, they insisted, be tried in the United States for rising up to kill their oppressors. U.S. officials self-righteously defended the institution of slavery and called for all property to be restored to its rightful owners. The British government, however, refused to comply with the order. Madison Washington and many of his comrades gained their freedom, boarded vessels bound hither and yon around the Atlantic, and left no further traces in the historical records.

The reverberations of the Amistad rebellion were beginning to be felt in the wider world of Atlantic slavery, as predicted by abolitionist Henry C. Wright, an associate of William Lloyd Garrison. He foresaw that Purvis’s painting, properly displayed, would confront slaveholders and their apologists with a powerful message about successful rebellion against bondage. To have it in a gallery would lead to discussions about slavery and the “inalienable” rights of man, and convert every set of visitors into an antislavery meeting.

Wright did not imagine a meeting of only two people, one of them a rebellious fugitive, nor could he have known that the painting would inspire radical action on another slave ship, which would result in both a collective self-emancipation and an international diplomatic row between the United States and Great Britain. The combination of the Amistad and Creole rebellions had a major impact on the antislavery struggle, pushing activists toward more militant rhetoric and practices. As Purvis concluded many years later, “And all this grew out of the inspiration caused by Madison Washington’s sight of this little picture.”

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elrondsscribe · 7 years

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The Seventh Avenger: Chapter 1

Nothing here's mine, of course. Tolkien and Marvel Studios own it all.

April 21, 2012

Glorfindel let himself into his apartment and hung up his keys on the rack next to the door. He set his phone down on the counter by the sink, opened the dishwasher to retrieve a clean glass, and retrieved an open jug of distilled water from the refrigerator. He drank deeply, the cool water soothing his dry throat.

He had been running, partly because it was a beautiful day but mostly because he'd needed the exercise to loosen himself up for the day's exercise routines. Now that his profession was so demandingly physical, he had to take better and more intentional care of his body than he'd had to in a few centuries. He quite relished the challenge.

He was just about to go for a much-needed shower when his senses belatedly went on the alert. He stiffened, and looked around.

Someone uninvited was in the house - was in fact in the next room, which was the living room. A tall, completely bald black man with a patch over his left eye was sitting comfortably on the couch holding a book. "You know, I used to love fantasy novels when I was in high school," he said conversationally. "Maybe that's why I still believe in heroes."

Glorfindel could honestly say that he had not had a genuine surprise like this for a solid decade. "Should I know you?" he asked suspiciously.

"You don't?" The man with the patch finally looked up and turned his head so that he was facing Glorfindel directly. "I'm surprised. Didn't you save my ungrateful ass from, to quote you directly, 'a Houseless in service to the Enemy' near forty-three years ago?"

And then Glorfindel remembered the lean, long-limbed boy who had come within an inch of death and worse that hot summer night. "You are Nicholas Fury," he said, and cocked his head. "I didn't recognize you at first; you've changed much since then."

The Man Nicholas Fury looked gave him a searching look. "You haven't."

Glorfindel's mouth tightened. "Is there a reason you are here, Mr. Fury?" he asked sharply.

But the Man smiled. "Now we're getting somewhere," he said, and he shut the book and turned the cover toward Glorfindel. "I'm now the director of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, or SHIELD."

Glorfindel tensed, and wondered briefly if now after all these years he would be exposed. "What is SHIELD?" he asked warily.

Fury tucked the (rather large) book he'd been reading under his arm and got up. As he came into the kitchen Glorfindel saw that he was also holding a folder. "SHIELD is an international extra-governmental counter-terrorism intelligence agency," he said. "Our focus is on protection - specifically, protecting the world from alter-natural threats, and from alter-natural secrets they're not ready to hear yet."

And with these words he swept the book from under his arm and laid it on the kitchen table, and its title, The Lord of the Rings: One Volume, gleamed in large gold letters.

Glorfindel stared at the book and pursed his lips, trying to hide his unease. "Secrets people aren't ready to hear?" he asked. "This work -" he pointed to the book. "- is known the world over - been translated into heaven only knows how many languages."

"It's even been made into a motion picture," said Fury. "You probably already know there's another one scheduled to come out in November."

"That's the point," said Glorfindel. "Hobbits and Elves and Dwarves are popular everywhere -"

"Isn't that convenient," rumbled Fury.

Glorfindel became silent. He couldn't afford vehement denial.

"Then, on the other hand, maybe not," Fury went on. "See, a little while back, I remembered what you said to me that night. I started doing a little research - Fellowship, Silmarilllion, Unfinished Tales, Book of Lost Tales, Peoples of Middle-Earth. Hell, I even went through online forums and fan articles. I had a theory, see, based on what you said."

Glorfindel gritted his teeth.

"Like I said, I did some digging," said Fury. "And I found this story about an Elf called Glorfindel. He came back from the dead and was sent back to Middle-Earth as an emissary of the Valar, like Gandalf was later on. Glorfindel, I hear, was an extraordinary warrior, but he was even more than that. He could send Sauron's most terrifying minions running like a bunch of dormice just by showing up."

In spite of his worries, Glorfindel found his lips curling. "I wouldn't quite say that," he hedged.

"Too humble?" asked Fury with a smirk. "Not surprised."

Caught. Red-handed.

"Is there something in particular you need?" snapped Glorfindel.

"Well, I'm here for two things," said Fury. "The first one you already took care of - admitting to, you know, that." He gestured to the large volume. "You haven't been nearly as careful as you should about trying to protect your secret."

Glorfindel gulped. "What do you mean?"

Fury opened his folder, and began drawing papers and photos from it one by one. "Taylor Alexander, principal dancer with the New York City Ballet for three years, been with the company for ten. Laurence Matthews, flute teacher in Maryland for twenty-eight years until a fatal car accident in 1971. Adam Bartlett, promising intelligence agent during the Second World War, killed in action in 1943. Jonathan Davis, professional photographer that went down with the Titanic after nearly thirty years in business. Rare photo of Samuel McCarson, famed abolitionist and post-war Reconstruction activist, killed in a riot in 1875 - you have no idea how many strings I had to pull to get that one -"

Glorfindel felt his heart come into his mouth as all his last aliases were displayed one by one.

"- and those are just the identities we have photos for," Fury went on. "We've got painted portraits of a Bernard Mandeville, a Herman John Walker, a Raymond Vandeleur, and a Charles Williamson. I won't bore you with the entire list, but you get the idea, right?"

Glorfindel's jaw was tight. "What do you want from me?"

"What do I want from you?" Fury shook his head. "No, that's not the question here. The question here is, what do you want from me? See, there aren't too many people even in the intelligence community who know about all this -" he pointed to all the photos and documents on the table. "But when it comes to secrets, two's plenty and three's a crowd. You dig what I'm getting at?"

And just like that, when he'd thought things couldn't get worse, they'd worsened. "You're not the only one who's guessed about me, have you?" asked Glorfindel.

"I'm willing to bet I'm not," said Fury. "So here's the deal: I can make you disappear from every record about you that exists - SHIELD's good like that. Nobody'll ever find you - or any others of your kind, I might add -" Glorfindel let out a small groan. "- the way I did."

"Should have known I wouldn't be the only one," sighed the Elf, rubbing his neck again. "What's the catch? And don't play coy with me, I know there's a catch."

"Not a catch, per se," said Fury, his single visible eye gleaming in amusement. "Just a favor I'd like to ask, which you're actually free to turn down if you really want to. I do owe you that."

"What's the favor?" asked Glorfindel.

Without a word, the Man laid down the folder and turned it toward Glorfindel, who raised his eyebrows at the title, printed in large black letters under a logo designed like an eagle. "The Avengers Initiative?"

"Call me an idealist," Fury's expression was enigmatic. "Earth's mightiest heroes, coming together to fight the battles we couldn't."

Glorfindel opened the folder, and his jaw fell. "These are your other candidates?"

Fury's smile was shark-like. "You got an idea, now, what I'm asking you for?"

A slow grin spread across the Elf's face. He looked back up at Fury. "If I agree to this, may I ask a small favor of you?"

April 21, 2012

A bright yellow sun with eight rays set inside a larger circle of deep forest green glowed on Fury's office wall.

"So he actually wants to use the original Golden Flower device?" asked Agent Maria Hill, gazing at the icon.

"He said he was ready to 'step out of the shadows'," said Fury. "Thought it was 'time for the age of marvels to begin.'" His tone turned mocking at the last words.

Hill was not fooled. "You're enjoying everything about this, aren't you?" she asked, arching her eyebrows at her superior.

Fury's single eye glinted. "Maybe. Get the thing put on a suit of armor."

Hill took a look at the numbers underneath the image. "A suit of armor for a seven-foot-two creature out of an adventure novel. Should I put in an order a sword?"

"What else would he use?" snorted her superior.

She shook her head. "You know the Council wouldn't be happy to hear you're still working on Phase One."

Fury fixed his eye on Hill. "Sure they wouldn't, if they knew jack about it."

[From the classified personal file of Director Nicholas J. Fury]

May 1: Destruction of Project PEGASUS; arrival of hostile Asgardian force identified as Loki; brainwashing of unknown number of PEGASUS participants including Agent Barton and Dr. Erik Selvig.

May 2: Reactivation of Phase One: Avengers Initiative - call in and brief the following candidates: Captain Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Dr. Bruce Banner, and Laurëfindel/Glorfindel (alias Taylor Alexander).

"This is out of line, Director," said Councilman Malick sternly. "You're dealing with forces you can't hope to control."

"You ever been in a war, Councilman?" snapped Director Fury, gazing up at the group of screens in front of him in a virtual conference room. Each of the screens displayed a real-time image of a member of the World Security Council. "In a firefight? Did you feel an overabundance of control?"

"You saying that this Asgard declared war on our planet?" demanded the American Councilman.

"Not Asgard, Loki," corrected Fury.

"He can't be working alone," interjected Councilwoman Hawley, a representative from the United Kingdom. She was writing busily on a notepad. "What about the other one, his brother?"

"Our intelligence says Thor is not a hostile," said Fury. "But he's worlds away. We can't depend on him for help. It's up to us."

"Which is why you should be focusing on Phase Two," said Councilman Malick. "It was designed for exactly -"

"Phase Two isn't ready," Fury cut him off. "Our enemy is. We need a response team."

"The Avengers Initiative was shut down," Councilman Malick's voice held a hint of warning.

"This isn't about the Avengers," said Fury dismissively.

"We've seen the list," said Councilman Singh, arms folded.

"We're running the world's greatest security network," Councilman Malick leaned forward. "And you're going to leave the fate of the human race to a handful of freaks."

Fury's frown deepened. "I'm not leaving anything to anyone," he said emphatically. "We need a response team. These people may be isolated - unbalanced, even - but I believe with the right push they can be exactly what we need."

"You believe?" asked Councilwoman Hawley, with a smile that held no warmth.

"War isn't won by sentiment, Director," added Councilman Malick.

"No," said Fury, and his voice rang with conviction. "It's won by soldiers."

Yeah, this chapter was slow. And brief. Sorry. The next ones will make up for it, though I can't guarantee they'll come very quickly.

Couple things straight off the bat - in case you couldn't tell in the first chapter, I've made Glorfindel the focus of my story, not Legolas. He's a lot older, more powerful, and in my opinion more the Avenger type than Legolas (at least canon Legolas). He will also be by far the oldest Avenger.

Also, I referenced the real 2012 schedule for the NYCB to see what a real dancer in Glorfindel's position would have been doing at this point - which on this particular day is nothing, since the winter season ended February 26 and the spring season didn't begin until May 1. [Which means that Glorfindel will get the call to come in at a really bad time . . .]

#elrondsscribe #fanfiction on tumblr #fanfiction #fanfic #avengers #lotr #lord of the rings #glorfindel #glorfindel the avenger #the seventh avenger

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vamonumentlandscape · 3 years

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Richmond Day 3

Josh’s Perspective for the American Civil War Museum at Tredegar:

The Civil War Museum at Tredegar is a fantastic museum that shows the most violent conflict ever to take place on American soil. I had been to other Civil War sites before, such as Gettysburg and Appomattox, but this may have been my favorite. After we purchased tickets, I was amazed to see a collage wallpaper of my favorite Civil War heroes, such as Harriet Tubman and Frederick Douglass. There are also blown-up newspaper clippings from the 1860s on the wall. The first artifacts that we saw were from John Brown’s raid at Harpers Ferry. As a white abolitionist, John Brown believed he had a moral and religious obligation to bring slavery down. He was joined by slaves in this revolt. Though he got executed in 1859, his last speech was wise because he knew of the violence to come. “I John Brown am now quite certain that the crimes of this guilty land will never be purged away, but with Blood…”

The permanent exhibition that followed did not shy away from presenting the cause of the Civil War - slavery. As evidenced by the rhetoric of men like Jefferson Davis and Alexander Stephens (see the Cornerstone Speech), the Confederates were fighting to save their institutional form of slavery. The museum did not claim that the North was free from racism, but glorifying the Southern cause is something that the institution did not do. I enjoyed the chronological nature of the museum. It allowed me to understand events better than I ever had and gave insight into things that I had never heard of before. There was a short film about the bread riots that took place in Southern cities like Richmond, as well as the destruction that came in New York after a new draft policy was unveiled. During the New York City Draft Riots, protestors killed African-Americans and even set the “Colored Orphan Asylum” ablaze. In the last few display cases, we saw artifacts that belonged to Stonewall Jackson, who was notably shot by one of his men. The museum presented an honest narrative of how Jefferson Davis ran away from Richmond when the Union was closing in on the city. General William T. Sherman’s actions in taking the major city of Atlanta were also featured. Overall, I thought this museum was fantastic. It asked thought-provoking questions throughout and let visitors know that though progress was made when the Union was victorious, institutional hate and violence would be on the rise after the untimely death of President Abraham Lincoln.

The museum is relatively new since it opened in its current form in 2019. We talked to two of the staff members at the ticketing and gift shop desk, and they informed us that there have not been many protests from either side of the political spectrum. There is the occasional phone call from a Confederate sympathizer questioning the museum's content, but those are few and far between. The interesting placement of the museum, as well as the outbreak of COVID-19, has significantly limited the number of protests. I cannot voice enough praise for this museum. It is a trip that is worth taking for all Americans.

Tomi’s Perspective for the American Civil War Museum at Tredegar:

Right off the James River and canal walk, “in its own secluded place” as one of the associates said, is the American Civil War Museum at Tredegar. You can see that the museum is a combination of new and old structure as soon as you drive up. Tredegar was one of the Confederacy’s largest iron works until the end of the Civil War. The museum not only has incredible history inside, but on the outside as well since it was a major historic preservation project that used as much of the original brick from the 19th century iron works. The museum greets you with steel and wood beams, with decorative rocks all around the floor. Before you head into the main gallery of the museum there is a small piece to the exhibition for you to see. We think that it was to give an introduction to the new museum and the true stories the American Civil War Museum was going to tell, not the Lost Cause entrenched Museum of the Confederacy of the past. “PRESERVE THE UNION/PRESERVE SLAVERY”, “AMERICA TORN ASUNDER”, “A thorny debate over slavery threatened America’s democratic experiment.” Those are just a few quotes from the 1860 introduction. These quotes show that any visitor that may be hoping to find an exhibition about the Lost Cause may be in the wrong place. It also serves as a wonderful introduction to the timeline format the museum uses in their permanent exhibit.

Once you walk into the gallery, it is dim, but you can see and hear the exhibits you will see later. It is surely made to be a place for contemplation, but not pride for the Union or Confederacy. Going from 1861 to 1865 the museum is filled with artifacts from soldiers from both the Union and Confederacy, the enslaved people, women, children, and prisoners of war. It sung untold stories of African American nurses like Ann Bradford Stokes, who were pivotal in the health of Union soldiers. The museum had something for everyone to enjoy. Not all exhibits were the usual plaque and artifact, but they invited you to have interactions. Touchscreens for a timeline to dive deeper into the geographic locations for battles and people were at the beginning of each “year” you went through. They were easy to use for all ages. One of my favorite interactive exhibits was the magnifying glass component where you could literally get a closer look at Prisoner of War trinkets they created while they were imprisoned. Those trinkets were made out of bone, wood, and other odd materials they could find while jailed. The museum offers something that everyone can enjoy.

After going through the main exhibit, there were plaques and artifacts about the 13th, 14th, and 15th amendments, along with Reconstruction policies. As Josh explained, each controversial or heavy exhibit had a question at the end for you to ponder. My favorite question that was posed and really made me think, was after the 13th Amendment piece. With a figure dressed in a KKK robe ensemble and images of sharecropping surrounding it, the question “Did slavery really end?” was presented before us. The response from us both was emotional and allowed us to really dive deep into a painful time in American history.

Upstairs were two other galleries that had rotating exhibits and another exhibit that was in the works for visitors to comment on with Post-It’s. “Greenback America” is an interactive experience that shows the transformation of American currency during the Civil War that shaped our economy as we know it today. Next, there was “Southern Ambitions” that told the story of the “what if the Confederacy had won?” through the lenses of the big ideas they wanted to accomplish. From a new railroad to compete with the Union’s Transcontinental Railroad to making alliances with some of the world’s most powerful countries, the Confederacy had some big plans. This exhibit was also in Spanish, so it was accessible to even more visitors to enjoy.

Outside of the museum was my absolute favorite statue we had seen in Richmond. This past year, I took an immersive course about Abraham Lincoln that increased my interest in him and the Civil War. He and Tad, his son, are sitting on a bench in front of a wall that states “TO BIND UP THE NATION'S WOUNDS.” It is a powerful piece knowing the tragic and early ends both of the men had. Though Abraham Lincoln has some problematic pieces to his history, like his first ideas of colonization, he changed and became an advocate for all people of the United States. Just like any person in history, he was not perfect. To study him and see the challenges and changes he went through as a person to come to his beliefs for equality for all is one that all of us can find inspiration in.

Day 3 Continued:

After having a delicious lunch at Capitol Waffle Shop, we took a break from Civil War history to the Black History Museum of Richmond. Housed in the first armory for an African American militia, the reimagined space takes on history of the community that surrounds them and across the nation. Walking in, you are greeted by a statue of a Tuskegee Airman from the Petersburg area. The lovely staff gave us a great introduction to the museum and the four exhibitions they had on display. The first is very small and is within the lobby area. It is a recreated lunch counter of Woolworth’s where many sit-ins across the South took place. It is just a reminder of the grassroots efforts that created change alongside the larger protests and actions. The first floor is the permanent exhibit that takes you through the history of African Americans through the lenses of four pivotal events in American history: Emancipation, Reconstruction, Jim Crow, and the Civil Rights Movement. It was an expansive exhibit with touchscreens and photos. As museum goers, the amount of technology the museum used was not our favorite, but the information they had was essential. The next exhibit was about African American Jazz Musicians in Virginia. This was more our speed with photos and plaques lining the walls for us to read. There was even an interactive trivia piece to keep you engaged the entire time. Finally, there were paintings upstairs paying tribute to street art in Richmond. The new museum is a wonderful addition to the museum landscape in the heart of Richmond, Virginia.

Surrounded by loud noises of construction and the Virginia Commonwealth University (VCU) Medical Center sits a comparably modest building known as the White House of the Confederacy. Owned by the same organization that operates the Tredegar museum, this building was the executive residence of Jefferson and Varina Davis between 1861-1865. It became known as the White House of the Confederacy after the Lost Cause narrative became infectious to many things in the South. Interestingly enough, the building was used as a school in the City of Richmond system before being remodeled into a museum. During our tour through the mansion, we saw many artifacts that were period pieces and others that were original to the Davis home. Our tour guide did not seem to be afraid of being honest about Jefferson Davis. He was the leader of a breakaway state, so visitors need to know that. We can recommend this historic home to anyone that would like to see an authentic, interpretive house museum. Even though the Confederacy is gone, it is important to see a place in which the Lost Cause was ingrained for such a long time.

#virginia #richmond #history #civil war #civilrights #important #monument

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topworldhistory · 4 years

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They include a spy, a poet, a guerrilla fighter—and foot soldiers who fought on both sides of the war.

During the American Revolution, thousands of black Americans jumped into the war, on both sides of the conflict. But unlike their white counterparts, they weren’t just fighting for independence—or to maintain British control. In a time when the vast majority of African Americans lived in bondage—their forced labor fueling the economy of the fledgling nation—most took up arms hoping to be freed from the literal shackles of chattel slavery. In fact, when enslaved people had choice in the matter, according to historian Edward Ayres of the American Revolution Museum in Yorktown, Virginia, they signed on with whichever side seemed most likely to grant them personal freedom.

For some slaves-turned-soldiers, the Revolution’s promise of liberty became a reality. But despite the patriots’ lofty rhetoric about liberty and justice for all, America’s war for independence didn’t herald widespread emancipation for enslaved people of color. America’s northern states didn’t pass laws to abolish slavery until 1804—and even then, some areas phased it out slowly. Southern states would cling to the brutal practice for more than a half-century longer.

Historians estimate that between 5,000 and 8,000 African-descended people participated in the Revolution on the Patriot side, and that upward of 20,000 served the crown. Many fought with extraordinary bravery and skill, their exploits lost to our collective memory. Below are the stories of several exceptional African American figures—a martyr, a poet and a double agent among them—whose crucial contributions to the conflict have been remembered to history.

READ MORE: He Fought for His Freedom in the Revolution. Then His Sons Were Sold into Slavery

Crispus Attucks, Martyr

Crispus Attucks, whom many historians credit as the first man to die for the rebellion, became a symbol of black American patriotism and sacrifice. In 1770, as tension mounted between British and colonial sailors in Massachusetts ports, distrust and competition among them grew. These pressures came to a head on March 5th, when an angry confrontation turned into a slaughter known as the Boston Massacre.

Witnesses say that Attucks, a middle-aged runaway slave of African and native American descent, who worked as a sailor and a rope maker, played an active role in the initial scuffle. Of the five colonists killed, he was said to be the first to fall—making him the first martyr to the American cause. He was taken down by two musket balls to the chest.

READ MORE: 8 Things We Know About Crispus Attucks

Salem Poor, Patriot Soldier

Postage stamp depicting Salem Poor, a soldier at the Battle of Bunker Hill.

Salem Poor began life as a Massachusetts slave and ended it as an American hero. Born into bondage in the late 1740s, he purchased his own freedom two decades later for 27 pounds, the equivalent of a few thousand dollars today. Soon after, Poor joined the fight for independence.

Enlisting multiple times, he is believed to have fought in the battles of Saratoga and Monmouth. He’s most famous, however, for his heroism at the Battle of Bunker Hill—where his contributions so impressed fellow soldiers, that after the war ended, 14 of them formally recognized his excellent battle skills with a petition to the General Court of Massachusetts. In it, they called him out as a “brave and gallant soldier,” saying he “behaved like an experienced officer.” Poor is credited in that battle with killing British Lieutenant Colonel James Abercrombie, along with several other enemy soldiers.

Colonel Tye, Loyalist Guerrilla

The Death of Major Peirsons, painted by John Singleton Copley. Colonel Tye is pictured left from the center.

Colonel Tye earned a reputation as the most formidable guerilla leader in the Revolutionary War. During his years fighting for the British, Patriots feared his raids, while their slaves welcomed his help in their liberation.

Tye, originally known as Titus during his early years in slavery in New Jersey, escaped a particularly brutal master in 1775 and joined the British army after the Crown offered freedom to any enslaved person who enlisted. While Tye stood out as a soldier from the start, the British didn’t station him at pitched battles. They saw more value in using his knowledge of the coveted New Jersey territory, which sat between British-occupied New York and the Patriot’s center of government in Philadelphia. The Redcoats needed to take this middle land—and believed Tye could help.

The British were right. Tye excelled at raid warfare there. His familiarity with the area gave him an advantage in attacks on Patriots’ lands. And his daring, skillful execution kept his Black Brigade soldiers largely unscathed as they plundered homes, took supplies, freed slaves and sometimes even assassinated Patriot slaveholders renowned for their cruelty. The British recognized Tye’s impact on their success and, out of respect for all his contributions, bestowed on him the honorific title of Colonel. He remains an important symbol of fearless resistance.

READ MORE: The Ex-Slaves Who Fought with the British

The First Rhode Island Regiment, Integrated Revolutionary Force

A painting by French artist and sub-lieutenant Jean Baptiste Antoine de Verger, depicting the different men of war, including a member of the First Rhode Island Regiment on the far left.

The First Rhode Island Regiment, the first Continental Army unit largely comprised of New England blacks, showcased African Americans’ skill as soldiers and commitment to their brethren on the battlefield. In the late 1770s, dwindling manpower forced George Washington to reconsider his original decision to ban blacks from the Continental Army. So in 1778, a Rhode Island legislature declared that both free and enslaved blacks could serve. To attract the latter, the Patriots promised freedom at the end of service.

Though relatively small—only about 130 men—the First Rhode Island Regiment had an outsized impact. Commanding General John Sullivan praised its soldiers for their success against attacks in the Battle of Newport, saying they displayed "desperate valor in repelling three furious Hessian (German) infantry assaults." When the Rhode Islanders journeyed to Virginia, where several thousand other soldiers were assembling, they stood out, according to aFrench military officer there, as “most neatly dressed, the best under arms and the most precise in all their maneuvers."

And one early historian, William Cooper, lauded their fierce loyalty. When their commander Colonel Christopher Greene was cut down during a surprise early-morning attack in May 1781, he wrote, “the sabers of the enemy only reached him through the bodies of his faithful guard of blacks, who hovered over him to protect him, and every one of whom was killed.”

Phyllis Wheatley, Patriot Poet

Phyllis Wheatley.

Phillis Wheatley was a revolutionary intellectual who waged a war for freedom with her words. Captured as a child in West Africa, then taken to North America and enslaved, Wheatley had an unusual experience in bondage: Her owners educated her and supported her literary pursuits. In 1773, at around age 20, Wheatley became the first African American and third woman to publish a book of poetry in the young nation. Shortly after, her owners freed her.

Influential colonists read Wheatley’s poems and lauded her talent. Her work, which reflected her close knowledge of the ancient classics as well as Biblical theology, carried strong messages against slavery and became a rallying cry for Abolitionists: “Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain, /May be refin’d and join th’ angelic train.” She also advocated for independence, artfully expressing support for George Washington’s Revolutionary War in her poem, “To His Excellency, General Washington.” Washington, who himself had been forced to end his formal education at age 11, appreciated Wheatley’s support and extolled her talent. The commander even invited her to meet, explaining he would “be happy to see a person so favored by the Muses.”

Peter Salem, Colonial Hero

Peter Salem shooting British Royal Marine officer Major Pitcairn at Bunker Hill.

Peter Salem is best known for his crucial contributions at the outset of the Revolution. Born into slavery in Massachusetts in the mid-18th century, Salem joined the Patriots in the earliest battles of the war, participating as a “minute man” at Lexington and Concord. His owners supported this decision and freed him so that he could remain enlisted.

Salem earned his place in history for his role in one the most important Revolutionary War fights, the 1775 Battle of Bunker Hill. Although the British defeated the Continental Army in this encounter, it wasn’t a total loss for the Patriots: Their killing of many Redcoats encouraged them to keep up the fight. Many historians credit Salem with killing a key officer of the crown, Major John Pitcairn, just as he was scaling the top of the American redoubt and demanding that the Patriots surrender. Salem’s role is believed to have been memorialized in John Trumbull’s painting The battle of Bunker's Hill.

James Armistead Lafayette, the Double Agent

Marquis de Lafayette and his assistant James Armistead.

During the Revolution, James Armistead’s life changed drastically—from an enslaved person in Virginia to a double agent passing intel, and misinformation, between the two warring sides. When Armistead joined the Patriots’ efforts, they assigned him to infiltrate the enemy. So he pretended to be a runaway slave wanting to serve the crown, and was welcomed by the British with open arms. At first they assigned him menial support tasks, but he soon became a more strategic resource due to his vast knowledge of the local terrain. Armistead’s role got more interesting when the British directed him to spy on the Patriots. Since his loyalty remained with the colonists, he claimed to be bringing the British intel about the Continental Army, but he was actually pushing incorrect information to foil their plans. In the meantime, he was learning details of the British battle plans, which he brought back to his commander, General Marquis de Lafayette.

This served the Americans well. Because of Armistead’s efforts, they got the insight they needed to successfully execute the decisive Siege of Yorktown, which effectively ended the war. Years later, after a testimonial from the French general helped secure Armistead’s freedom, the former slave changed his surname to Lafayette.

READ MORE: How a Slave-Turned-Spy Helped Secure Victory at the Battle of Yorktown

from Stories - HISTORY https://ift.tt/2OHZyqk February 12, 2020 at 02:01AM

#Worldhistory

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mcdouglecompany-blog · 4 years

Text

Prager University Part 38.

The Borderline Bar and Grill: A Tale of Men and Masculinity

Frederick Douglass: From Slave to Statesman

Public Pensions: An Economic Time Bomb

Trailer: The Candace Owens Show Featuring Walt Heyer

PragerU vs. Google: How We Got Here

Trailer: The Candace Owens Show Featuring Sebastian Gorka

Is Climate Change an Existential Threat?

Evolution: Bacteria to Beethoven

Ellen Degeneres: Be Kind to Everyone

Kanye: The Republican Party Freed the Slaves

Leftists Don't Value Tolerance

All I Want to Do Is Make Cookies

The Borderline Bar and Grill: A Tale of Men and Masculinity.

Watch this video at- https://youtu.be/CYeE7vREtHk

PragerU

On November 7, 2018, a gunman opened fire inside a crowded bar in Thousand Oaks, California. Lives were lost that night, but lives were also saved. Who saved them? How? What can these heroes teach us? Journalist Abigail Shrier answers these questions in this powerful video.

Script: The mass shooting at the Borderline Bar and Grill in Southern California on November 7, 2018 is a tale of men and masculinity. Lost in the carnage is a lesson we would all be advised to heed. That lesson has little to do with the monster who took lives and everything to do with the men who saved lives. The killer was 28 years old, lost, lonely and living with mom. He had been a regular at the Borderline Bar and Grill. He knew that on Wednesdays—college country night—the place would be packed with kids laughing and dancing. He entered tossing smoke grenades, then unloaded his handgun—fitted with an illegal extended magazine—into the crowd. But there were other young men there, too. One of them was 20-year-old Matt Wennerstrom. In interviews, Wennerstrom looks like a typical college student—backward baseball cap, gray T-shirt, jaw scruffy with a few days’ growth. On camera, he seems laconic, humble, willing to answer questions; neither eager for the limelight nor afraid of it. As soon as he heard the shots, Wennerstrom told ABC News, he knew “exactly what was going on.” He and some friends grabbed everyone they could and pushed them down behind the pool table, placing their own bodies on top of the girls. One woman, who was celebrating her 21st birthday, told Good Morning America: “There were multiple men who got on their knees and pretty much blocked all of us with their back toward the shooter, ready to take a bullet for every single one of us.” When the shooter paused to reload, Wennerstrom grabbed a bar stool and tossed it through a window. He and his buddies pulled 30 to 35 people to safety. After getting each group safely to the parking lot, Wennerstrom and his buddies went back for more. A reporter asked Wennerstrom how he knew immediately what was going on in the loud, crowded bar. “Instinct, I guess,” he said. “I’m here to protect my friends, my family, my fellow humans, and I know where I’m going if I die, so I was not worried to sacrifice. All I wanted to do is get as many people out of there as possible.” This is the masculinity we so often hear denigrated. It takes as its duty the physical protection of others, especially women. This masculinity doesn’t wait for verbal consent or invitation to push a person out of harm’s way. It sends hundreds of firefighters racing up the Twin Towers to save people they’ve never met. And it sent Sgt. Ron Helus of the Ventura County Sheriff’s Office rushing into Borderline Bar and Grill, where the shooter was waiting for him. “I gotta go handle a call,” Helus had just told his wife over the phone. “I love you.” The 54-year-old husband and father died at the hospital from the wounds he suffered as he tried to stop the rampaging gunman. For the complete script, visit https://www.prageru.com/video/the-bor...

Donate today to PragerU! http://l.prageru.com/2eB2p0h To view the script, sources, quiz, and study guides, visit https://www.prageru.com/video/the-bor... VISIT PragerU! https://www.prageru.com Join Prager United to get new swag every quarter! http://l.prageru.com/2c9n6ys Join PragerU's text list to have these videos, free merchandise giveaways and breaking announcements sent directly to your phone! https://optin.mobiniti.com/prageru Do you shop on Amazon? Click https://smile.amazon.com and a percentage of every Amazon purchase will be donated to PragerU. Same great products. Same low price. Shopping made meaningful. FOLLOW us! Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/prageru Twitter: https://twitter.com/prageru Instagram: https://instagram.com/prageru/ PragerU is on Snapchat! JOIN PragerFORCE! For Students: http://l.prageru.com/2aozfkP JOIN our Educators Network! http://l.prageru.com/2aoz2y9

Frederick Douglass: From Slave to Statesman.

https://youtu.be/FATFaZ7VOIc

PragerU

Frederick Douglass was born into slavery, but through his own heroic efforts became one of the most influential advocates for freedom in American history. His journey, a tale both agonizing and inspiring, should be known by everyone. Timothy Sandefur, author of "Frederick Douglass: Self-Made Man," guides us through Douglass’ amazing life. This video was made in partnership with the American Battlefield Trust. Learn more about Frederick Douglas at http://bit.ly/2Zf0sSq

Script: He was one of the most revered Americans of the 19th century. His story of personal triumph—humble origins to national prominence—is equal to or greater than that of Andrew Jackson, Abraham Lincoln, or Ulysses Grant. He never became a politician, but he spoke to presidents as an equal. His name is Frederick Douglass. Born a slave, Douglass never knew the exact date of his birth, never knew his father, never saw his mother after the age of seven. This wasn’t uncommon at the time. Slave owners often made a point of separating families. Breaking family bonds increased dependence on the slave owner. Discipline was maintained through simple fear and destroying self-esteem. A slave could be punished for not working hard enough, but also for working too hard—or even for suggesting labor-saving ideas. Douglass experienced all of this and rebelled against it. As a teenager, he taught himself to read. This created a desire for freedom. When his owner discovered this disturbing development, he sent him to live with a local farmer, Edward Covey, who made extra money breaking the will of unruly slaves. Covey beat Douglass every week for six months, often for no reason. And it worked. Soon young Frederick gave up all hope of being free. “The dark night of slavery closed in upon me,” he later wrote. That all changed one hot August day in 1835. When Covey struck him, Douglass fought back. Where he found the courage, he couldn’t say. The two men struggled until Covey stumbled away exhausted. Covey never laid a hand on Douglass again. The teenage slave had stood up for himself. He considered this the most important lesson of his life. Years later, he would tell this story when urging black men to enlist in the Union Army to fight the Confederacy. “You owe it to yourself,” he said. “You will stand more erect . . . and be less liable to insult. . . . You [will be] defending your own liberty, honor, manhood, and self-respect.” Douglass made his escape from slavery in 1838, slipping into the North disguised as a U.S. Navy sailor. At any point along the rail journey, his flimsy cover could have been blown. Displaying a confidence he didn’t actually feel, he bluffed his way past suspicious conductors and runaway-slave hunters. Once in the North, he joined the radical abolitionist movement and was quickly recognized as a powerful speaker and writer. The movement’s leader, William Lloyd Garrison, burned the Constitution at his July 4th speeches. In Garrison’s view, it legally protected slavery and was therefore irredeemable. But Douglass came to reject that. He believed that the Constitution was fundamentally opposed to slavery. “Interpreted as it ought to be interpreted,” Douglass said, “the Constitution is a glorious liberty document.” Not surprisingly, Douglass was a strong supporter of the Republican Party—the new anti-slavery party—and of the Union cause in the Civil War. Initially, he had doubts about Abraham Lincoln. He didn’t think Lincoln was truly committed to ending slavery. But he warmed up to the Great Emancipator as the conflict wore on. Lincoln, on the other hand, always admired Douglass. “Here comes my friend Douglass,” Lincoln said when he saw him at his second inaugural in 1865. The Union victory ended slavery. But as the Democratic Party re-established itself in the South in the 1870s and ‘80s, a new kind of racial oppression arose in the form of Jim Crow laws and, even worse, widespread lynching. For the complete script, visit https://www.prageru.com/video/frederi...

Donate today to PragerU! http://l.prageru.com/2eB2p0h To view the script, sources, quiz, and study guides, visit https://www.prageru.com/video/frederi... VISIT PragerU! https://www.prageru.com Join Prager United to get new swag every quarter! http://l.prageru.com/2c9n6ys Join PragerU's text list to have these videos, free merchandise giveaways and breaking announcements sent directly to your phone! https://optin.mobiniti.com/prageru Do you shop on Amazon? Click https://smile.amazon.com and a percentage of every Amazon purchase will be donated to PragerU. Same great products. Same low price. Shopping made meaningful. FOLLOW us! Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/prageru Twitter: https://twitter.com/prageru Instagram: https://instagram.com/prageru/ PragerU is on Snapchat! JOIN PragerFORCE! For Students: http://l.prageru.com/2aozfkP JOIN our Educators Network! http://l.prageru.com/2aoz2y9

Public Pensions: An Economic Time Bomb.

https://youtu.be/Vdmk-wCqDlE

PragerU

Who cares about public pension liability? Well, you should – after all, it’s the reason entire cities and even states are facing bankruptcy. Joshua Rauh, professor of finance at Stanford and Senior Fellow at the Hoover Institution, paints a startling picture of just how broken the public pension system really is, and what will happen if we continue to ignore it.

Script: I want to talk to you about three words that should scare the heck out of you, especially if you’re young: public pension liabilities. Okay, I know you probably have about a hundred things you’re worried about, and public pension liabilities likely aren’t one of them. But that’s the reason this is so scary—because almost no one is paying attention. Unless you’re okay with your city going full Detroit and giving more of your hard-earned money to pay off someone else’s debts, stay with me. So what is a public pension liability? A pension is a guaranteed, lifetime payment to someone after they retire. Pensions used to be a big deal in the private sector. Every major American company had them. But they became too expensive, and companies have taken steps to phase them out. However, pensions still live on in the public sector—among employees of the government—and they’re eating city and states’ budgets alive. More and more money that could go to tax cuts or better services is instead being shoveled aside to pay for these benefits. Why is this happening? Over decades, politicians have promised trillions of dollars in pensions to government workers. That includes police, firefighters, teachers, and city and state officials. You name a government job, and there’s a pension associated with it. Now, you may be wondering, “How big are these payments?” Many pensions are quite large. In California, more than 62,000 retired public employees are receiving pensions of over $100,000 per year. Sometimes, it’s even crazier. A retired New York City sanitation worker is getting $285,000 per year. A retired county administrator in California receives over $400,000 per year. Remember, these are guaranteed lifetime yearly payouts. Now, we love our public employees. They do vital work for our local communities and the wider society. They deserve competitive pay and retirement benefits. But currently, many cities are, in effect, paying for multiple public departments at the same time: the department that’s working now and, because people are living longer, a generation or two of retirees. The system amounts to a self-perpetuating, corrupt merry-go-round. Public-sector unions give large donations to candidates, who are then responsible for negotiating how much of your money goes to public sector workers. These arrangements not only promise high salaries in the short-term, but they also hide the payments that will be due down the road when it will be much too late. The results are predictable. State and local governments across the U.S. openly admit to 1.4 trillion dollars of unfunded pension liabilities, or $11,000 per household. “Unfunded” means dollars that have been promised, but there’s no actual money in the bank. And that’s just the amount they admit to. The real number, according to the Federal Reserve, is much larger—around 4 trillion dollars, or $32,000 per household. Pensions have already thrown California cities like San Bernardino and Vallejo into bankruptcy. And the entire state of Illinois is teetering on the edge. So how do politicians get away with this? They use a time-tested political strategy: they lie. For the complete script, visit https://www.prageru.com/video/public-...

Donate today to PragerU! http://l.prageru.com/2eB2p0h To view the script, sources, quiz, and study guides, visit https://www.prageru.com/video/public-... VISIT PragerU! https://www.prageru.com Join Prager United to get new swag every quarter! http://l.prageru.com/2c9n6ys Join PragerU's text list to have these videos, free merchandise giveaways and breaking announcements sent directly to your phone! https://optin.mobiniti.com/prageru Do you shop on Amazon? Click https://smile.amazon.com and a percentage of every Amazon purchase will be donated to PragerU. Same great products. Same low price. Shopping made meaningful. FOLLOW us! Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/prageru Twitter: https://twitter.com/prageru Instagram: https://instagram.com/prageru/ PragerU is on Snapchat! JOIN PragerFORCE! For Students: http://l.prageru.com/2aozfkP JOIN our Educators Network! http://l.prageru.com/2aoz2y9

Trailer: The Candace Owens Show Featuring Walt Heyer.

https://youtu.be/gfCAdxfd6Ak

PragerU

Walt Heyer lived as a transgender woman for eight years. In this Sunday's episode of The Candace Owens Show, Walt shares his personal experience with gender dysphoria, sex change, regret, and his moving story of healing and restoration. Don’t miss this powerful interview.

PragerU vs. Google: How We Got Here.

https://youtu.be/D0hRLj7JV5Q

PragerU

PragerU has filed two lawsuits against Google/ YouTube, and this week, we are taking them back to court. Here's how we got here and why this case is critical for free speech. Join the thousands of Americans who value the free exchange of ideas. Please sign our petition telling YouTube that their restriction of 200+ PragerU videos is wrong: https://l.prageru.com/2Tyvcv1

Trailer: The Candace Owens Show Featuring Sebastian Gorka.

https://youtu.be/Vh9eUpW6O0A

PragerU

Sebastian Gorka, former deputy assistant to President Trump and host of “America First,” joins Candace in the studio this Sunday for a conversation on the indoctrination of the Left, the assassination of masculinity, and his experiences inside the Trump administration. Don’t miss it! Get your very own Candace Owens Show Mug today! Use promo code "Candace10" for 10% off. https://l.prageru.com/31lBXzm

Is Climate Change an Existential Threat?

https://youtu.be/f5nUO7EYnUk

PragerU

Piers Morgan: If climate change is a threat, why don't you practice what you preach by reducing your carbon footprint? “It’s not about my carbon footprint, it’s about YOUR carbon footprint” 🤦‍♂️ The epic hypocrisy of climate extremists 😂

Evolution: Bacteria to Beethoven.

https://youtu.be/DOIbcOoaxuY

PragerU

For a century Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution has been as unquestioned as Newton’s theory of gravity. But science never stops asking questions. Or at least it’s not supposed to. Stephen Meyer, Senior Fellow at the Discovery Institute, takes up the challenge in this video. Are there questions about the origins of life that Darwinism can’t answer?

Script: Evolution. You learned about it in high school. It goes like this: Life started out with very simple forms and then gradually, over hundreds of millions of years, morphed into all the forms we see today. Bacteria to Beethoven. Not a straight line, of course…but that’s roughly how it went. This was the theory proposed by Charles Darwin in 1859, and, with some modification, it has been embraced as unassailable by the science community over the last century. As evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins says, “If you meet somebody who claims not to believe in evolution, that person is either ignorant, stupid or insane.” But is that right? Are there no scientific reasons to doubt the evolutionary account of life’s origins? In November 2016, I attended a conference in London convened by some of the world’s leading evolutionary biologists. The purpose: to address growing doubts about the modern version of Darwin’s theory. Let’s look at just two scientific reasons to doubt this theory. First, the Cambrian Explosion. A weird and wonderful thing happened 530 million years ago: A whole bunch of major groups of animals—what scientists call the “phyla”—appeared abruptly within a geologically short window of time—about ten million years. These novel animal forms—exhibiting proto-types of most animal body designs we see today—emerged in the fossil record without evidence of earlier ancestors. Did you catch that? A huge number of diverse animals appeared, with no discernible antecedents. So where did they come from? This question really bothered Darwin. And he acknowledged that he could give it “no satisfactory answer.” Nor can scientists today. The renowned biologist Eugene Koonin, of the National Center for Biotechnology Information, describes the abrupt appearance of the Cambrian animals and other organisms such as dinosaurs, birds, flowering plants and mammals as a pattern of “biological Big Bangs.” So what caused all these new forms of life to arise? That question leads to a second big doubt: the DNA enigma. In the 1950s, James Watson and Francis Crick made a startling discovery: The DNA molecule stores information as a four-character digital code. Strings of precisely sequenced chemicals inside the DNA helix store the instructions—the information—for building the crucial proteins that cells need to survive. Unless the chemical “letters” in the DNA text are sequenced properly, a protein molecule will not form. No proteins; no cells. No cells; no living organisms. Bill Gates has said, “DNA is like a software program.” Let’s think about that for a second. For computers to run faster and perform more functions, they require new code. Well, the same is true for life: To build new forms of life, the evolutionary process would need to produce new genetic information—new code. But this raises questions about the creative power of natural selection and mutation. Natural selection is a simple sorting process. Species keep favorable mutations that allow them to survive but eliminate bad mutations that cause their members to die out. No one doubts that natural selection is a real process and that it produces minor variations, but many biologists now doubt that it produces major innovations in biological form. For the complete script, visit https://www.prageru.com/video/evoluti...

Donate today to PragerU! http://l.prageru.com/2eB2p0h To view the script, sources, quiz, and study guides, visit https://www.prageru.com/video/evoluti... VISIT PragerU! https://www.prageru.com Join Prager United to get new swag every quarter! http://l.prageru.com/2c9n6ys Join PragerU's text list to have these videos, free merchandise giveaways and breaking announcements sent directly to your phone! https://optin.mobiniti.com/prageru Do you shop on Amazon? Click https://smile.amazon.com and a percentage of every Amazon purchase will be donated to PragerU. Same great products. Same low price. Shopping made meaningful. FOLLOW us! Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/prageru Twitter: https://twitter.com/prageru Instagram: https://instagram.com/prageru/ PragerU is on Snapchat! JOIN PragerFORCE! For Students: http://l.prageru.com/2aozfkP JOIN our Educators Network! http://l.prageru.com/2aoz2y9

Ellen Degeneres: Be Kind to Everyone.

https://youtu.be/b1XDeBZDO-k

PragerU

Ellen and President George W. Bush were spotted laughing together at a football game and, predictably, leftists lost their minds. 🙄 Guess what: it's ok to have Republican friends. It's called tolerance. 💁‍♂️

Kanye: The Republican Party Freed the Slaves.

https://youtu.be/M2A4NAxRzdc

PragerU

Kanye knows. ☝️ Wake up, everybody!

Leftists Don't Value Tolerance.

https://youtu.be/tZe60oDAu5M

PragerU

Tolerance isn't a value of the left. Example A: Antifa

All I Want to Do Is Make Cookies.

https://youtu.be/JFsAkxzTFEs

PragerU

Most small businessmen have enough problems improving their product, marketing and meeting payroll. When Uncle Sam and his state and local cousins get involved, life and business invariably get harder. Common sense regulation benefits everyone. But there is a level of regulation that benefits no one – except bureaucrats. In this video, Joseph Semprevivo, founder and CEO of Joseph’s Lite Cookies, gives his not-so-sugar-coated account of how the government too often hinders much more than it helps.

Script: I own a small business with seven employees. We make cookies—but not just any cookies. We make sugar-free cookies that diabetics can eat. Actually, they’re so tasty, anyone can enjoy them. That was the inspiration that motivated me to start this business. You see, I am a diabetic myself. I have been one my whole life. If you think running a cookie company is fun and games, think again. I work a hundred hours a week—which isn’t unusual for small business owners. I make a nice living, but I’m not in it for the money. I love what I do. I’d better. My margins are very tight—around 1%. That means I have to sell a million dollars’ worth of cookies to make $10,000. Every penny counts—literally. That’s why I get so frustrated with government regulations. Now, let me be clear: some regulations are necessary—especially, for obvious reasons, in the food industry. But “necessary” and “excessive” are two entirely different things. Excessive, UN-necessary regulations soak up valuable hours of my time and my money for no good purpose. That 100 hours I work per week? I estimate 36 of them are spent on compliance issues alone. This keeps me away from activities that would help me grow my business—like sales and product development. And that keeps me away from hiring more people. My employees are like family to me. It’s that way with most small businesses. But it’s a struggle every single day. I could be more productive and feel a lot less anxiety if I didn’t have to fight my own government; or, should I say, governments—federal, state and local. I get the roads and the bridges and the national defense, but I don’t get why they have to be involved in every tiny aspect of my business, sometimes competing with each other as to who can make my life more difficult. For example, as a bakery, I’m under the jurisdiction of the Food and Drug Administration (FDA), the Department of Agriculture, and the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA). I also have to deal with the state health agency. They all have different rules. If these rules contradict one another, it’s not their problem; it’s mine. A few years ago, the FDA inspector showed up for one of his random inspections. He noticed the door to the area in which we bake our cookies swung out as you walked in. He told me that was a code violation. The doors have to swing in. I had 30 days to fix it or I’d be fined thousands of dollars. I should note we have an air curtain between both rooms so no food particles can get in or out of the baking area. I pointed this out. The inspector was unmoved. A few months later, the inspector from the Ag Department shows up for one of his random inspections. He notices that the door swings in. Yes, I tell him. It does. It’s an FDA regulation. No, he tells me, it has to swing out. Fix it within 30 days, he says, or you’ll be fined. I started keeping two sets of doors: one that swings in for the FDA, and one that swings out for the Ag Department. For the complete script, visit https://www.prageru.com/video/all-i-w...

Donate today to PragerU! http://l.prageru.com/2eB2p0h To view the script, sources, quiz, and study guides, visit https://www.prageru.com/video/all-i-w... VISIT PragerU! https://www.prageru.com Join Prager United to get new swag every quarter! http://l.prageru.com/2c9n6ys Join PragerU's text list to have these videos, free merchandise giveaways and breaking announcements sent directly to your phone! https://optin.mobiniti.com/prageru Do you shop on Amazon? Click https://smile.amazon.com and a percentage of every Amazon purchase will be donated to PragerU. Same great products. Same low price. Shopping made meaningful. FOLLOW us! Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/prageru Twitter: https://twitter.com/prageru Instagram: https://instagram.com/prageru/ PragerU is on Snapchat! JOIN PragerFORCE! For Students: http://l.prageru.com/2aozfkP JOIN our Educators Network! http://l.prageru.com/2aoz2y9

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