We Shall Overcome Revisited

It was February 1978 and I was watching newsreels of the Civil Rights Movement in my primary school. At 9, my heart was saddened seeing thunderous water hose and hate-filled blows given to blacks relentless in their fight for freedom. The repeated images moved my heart from sad to mad that one group of people devalued another so much that they sought to keep them down by beating them down. And then I got angry because I was tired of singing “We Shall Overcome.” I remember thinking, “But they didn’t overcome. That song didn’t work. Can we sing a new song? One that works?”

Even though these thoughts flowed freely in my mind, I didn’t know how to verbalize them, at least not in a respectful way to Mrs. Clark, my pretty black teacher who carved confidence in us; to Mrs. Kraus, my Jewish music teacher who cultivated cultural sensitivity in us; or Mr. Mack, my white principal who was kind to all us kids in a non-patronizing way. So at 9, I had my own protest by refusing to sing “We Shall Overcome” another time. Not when Mrs. Kraus prompted us to join in with the armed-clutch crowd rocking back and forth on the newsreel, not in church after the pastor asked us to have a silent moment, and not during any other program looking back on the Civil Right Movement. That is not until last night during a live performance of jazz bassist Christian McBride’s The Movement Revisited: A Jazz Opus in Detroit.

Christian McBride


A lover of jazz and gospel music, McBride masterfully blended two of my favorite genres with a jazz orchestra and a church choir and infused the music with narrations of speeches to commemorate the lives of civil rights icons Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Rosa Parks and Muhammad Ali. To add to that, one of my sheroes, Sonia Sanchez, read the part of Rosa Parks. I feasted on great words and music that reverberated my being. The Second Ebenezer Majestic Voices opened by singing “This May Be My Last Time” as jazz rifts infiltrated the vocal proclamation. Second, an 18-year-old high school student eloquently read Dr. King’s opening address to the 1964 Berlin Jazz Festival:

“Jazz speaks for life. Much of the power of our Freedom Movement in the United States has come from this music. It has strengthened us with its sweet rhythms when courage began to fail. It has calmed us with its rich harmonies when spirits were down.”

When I heard King’s statement about jazz and considered how it and some gospel songs make me feel like I can move mountains, I knew why the freedom fighters kept singing “We Shall Overcome.” This was a song of faith, declaring that even if they didn’t see come to pass what they were fighting for, they would continue to fight so that following generations could be free to be who God created them to be. So, third, when the Detroit church choir sang an upbeat “We Shall Overcome” with the jazz infusion, I proudly sang along knowing the power of the song and how it in fact had worked.

I had a glorious night, and was glad Christian McBride and the Detroit International Jazz Festival had brought this opus to Detroit. I’ve always liked McBride, but now he is one of my heroes for using the amazing gift of musical composition that God has given him to inspire us all to continue to fight for human rights.

Copyright 2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

Acknowledge the Ancestors

I didn’t make it to see Sonia Sanchez as I planned on Wednesday. Caring for my family and home wore me out. There were the doctors’ appointments, the medicating of cuts, the comforting of crying children, yadda, yadda, yadda. I had to rest my tired body and soul. I wanted to see and hear Sanchez, but that just wasn’t prudent. Anyway, the more I thought about Sanchez’s quotation regarding writing to keep in contact with our ancestors, I realized I didn’t need to ask her what she meant, though it would have been nice to have her view confirmed; my initial intent when presenting the quotation was to talk about the whole notion of acknowledging the dead.

Let me say right now: we must acknowledge our ancestors, those living and dead. We gain strength from their greatness; we understand our ancestral legacy; we know what’s good to follow and what changes we need to make based on their successes and failures. Our health depends on acknowledging them: our racial health, physical health, emotional health, political health, spiritual health. I think you get what I’m saying. It’s up to us to always remember and to inform our progeny of familial history.

The question for me is never do we acknowledge our ancestors but “How do we acknowledge them?” I told of a cautionary tale in my “Death of a Superwoman.” I mentioned a bit in my “Proper Tribute” post. But now and in the next few posts, I want to discuss as God’s Woman following God’s Word the proper and improper ways to acknowledge our ancestors. This is important for me as a recovering strong black woman with the collective legacy of racial and gender oppression. Even with these factors, God’s Word must trump my race and my gender. What are your thoughts? What do you think are the proper and improper ways to acknowledge ancestors? I’ll start by saying this picture displays a great way to acknowledge a great woman of our past.
Copyright 2009 by Rhonda J. Smith

My friend Kim Trent (far left), activist Annette Rainwater and National Congress of Black Women President E. Faye Williams stand with a bust of freedom fighter Sojourner Truth, the first black woman to be acknowledged with a statue in the US Capitol's statutory collection

My friend Kim Trent (far left), activist Annette Rainwater and National Congress of Black Women President E. Faye Williams stand with a bust of freedom fighter Sojourner Truth, the first black woman to be acknowledged with a statue in the US Capitol's statutory collection

Connecting with Ancestors

Sonia Sanchez

Sonia Sanchez

“…I write to keep in contact with our ancestors (emphasis mine) and to spread truth to people”—Sonia Sanchez

This week’s quotation comes from another famous poet, scholar and activist Sonia Sanchez, one of the foremost writers during the Black Arts Movement in the mid-1960s through the 1970s. I love Sanchez, the depth of her messages and the cadence of her words that penetrate your soul and make you think and move. One of my favorite pieces is her “Does Your House Have Lions?” where in eerily beautiful terms she describes the family journey with her brother who is dying from AIDS. I like Sanchez’s writing and her love for humanity. When I saw the above quotation I was struck about her desire to connect with humanity. Considering this quotation alongside Deuteronomy 18:10-11, Isaiah 8:19 and Job 8:8-10, what are your thoughts about what Sanchez has said, particularly the emphasized part? You know there’s more to come from me. Let me know what you think first.

Copyright 2009 by Rhonda J. Smith