a Summer of Soul

 The recent movie," A Summer of Soul", up for an academy award this year prompted this post and a beginning of a sort of history in selected images from my life. 

  When I was a young child, I lived in a small town in Florida that was racially segregated. We, in fact, had no people of color living in the town at all. This was a time when desegregation was a large issue, especially in the South, and so, when I was in 5th grade, our school got two black teachers as the beginning of desegregation and then when I was in the 6th grade we actually got a few students bussed from a neighboring town (and the projects) to our school. 

  When I was a child, my mother was extremely active in a church that was technically a 1st Christian church, but was a bit more active in "soul winning" than most.  My father did not attend at all. Every Sunday morning, Sunday nights and Wednesday night my Mom would load us and anyone else she could find into her station wagon for intense church. Wednesday night was a bit less formal and was more fun for the kids, while the adults studied the Bible passages rather intensely with workbooks. 

The minister was very interested in the idea that, if you get the kids to church, the parents would follow and so began quite an extensive Bus fleet that would travel all around the area picking up kids for church. He often had events like, "Round up Sunday" where everyone dressed like cowboys and those with horses gave rides to the kids. Always something and always pushing for everyone to bring kids to church. 

The Teens were expected to go on Friday and Saturday nights to the beach and "soul win" people who were just enjoying the peace. My sisters really hated having to go and, while I was 9 and 10 ish and enthusiastic and BELIEVED what I was told, they saw how disruptive and bothersome that was. 

There was a point where for a few years the church sent teens to Jamaica to conduct Bible school in small churches in the mountains. Each teen was expected to come up with a certain amount of money an, since we had 3 or 4 teens in my family at that time, we had all had to sell Donuts door to door to raise the money. My brother and I were just slave labor for the others and our only reward was when someone said, "Oh, I'm diabetic dear, but here's the money and you keep the donuts" (they were 60 cents a box BTW)  We could eat the box if that happened, but only once. 

 I mention the Jamaica stories only to highlight the hypocrisy that is coming. And so to recap. I was young, active in my church, our church was open to recruiting kids, and they missioned in a majority black country. Oh, and Desegregation had impacted my life and I suddenly have black students in my school/ life I never did before. 

NATURALLY I invited my fellow students to our church. But suddenly, it was met with adults shifting eyes at each other and discouragement. We (I wasn't alone in this endeavor, my good friend and preacher's daughter was also involved) could not understand the logic of the adults and they did not want to tell us about their hypocrisy.  In the end, it was discussed among the adults (both black and white parents) that we could visit their homes on Saturdays and hold a bible story time where we would sing and bring our flannel boards  of bible figures. In the end, I think everyone was ok with the compromise and I made some closer friends from it. 

  Another thing that came from it at the Church was a Black family coming to sing. They might have sung many songs, but only one made an impact. They sang the familiar "Amazing Grace" but in between the verses they added a faster and unfamiliar chorus of "we are wrapped up tied up tangled all up in Jesus" that was excitingly new.

 I mention that this post was prompted by the documentary movie " Summer of Soul" I recently watched. That's because most of the footage was filmed in 1969, right when all of this story was taking place and it's been the only time I've ever heard the addition of "wrapped up .." since. It helped me realize that it was a new and exciting thing to be added to Amazing Grace for them as well. As with most things, it's a forerunner of worship music and the endeavor of making church "cool". 

 Now to the picture I've put at the top. I suppose moving when I was 12 changed the whole direction of my life. Clearly, we no longer attended that church nor did we continue to interact with those particular black students who became friends. My friend Jennifer, gave me this as a going away present. It's a goofy little thing for sure but I've had it for 50 years now. It was something she had and I know she had very little to give. It's a talisman for generosity and a reminder that we made some real friendships from all of this. 

  If I could say anything about this story in general, it's to speak about the genuine honesty of a child unfamiliar with Racism. I didn't have years of modeling of a behavior because I never encountered it before. My first encounter was to be open, friendly, welcoming, eager to learn and exchange different views. 

Having moved to a town that had much more historical segregation, I learned the picture was much different. While I didn't understand it, I certainly saw the barriers and lived by them. Because I had that foundation as a younger child, I saw the hypocrisy of the adult behaviors and rejected them.   If I was happy about anything from that time in my life, it was when all the marginalized students banned together and voted for a black Homecoming queen. It wasn't much, but was pretty awesome to see all the adults get up and walk out of the stands. We broke the unwritten rule about the blacks students getting Basketball court and the whites getting Football court. 

I have mentioned Hypocrisy a few times in this story and, unfortunately, it remains. I saw quite a few real life versions of the movie, "the Help" at least enough to know it exists. I was engaged once to someone and the first time I met his Mother she could have been a character from that movie. I passed on that relationship right then although it took some time to get out of the engagement. Not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings, it end up impossible not to. I regret that, but not the breaking of the engagement. 

 Over the years, I've seen and accepted how things are, not agreeing with them, but seeing that many people didn't have such a clean slate to work from like I did. I am fairly sure my parents' generation had more divisive viewpoints. I am hopeful that they would have accepted the changes in their life time. I believe my Mother did. In any event, time does change viewpoints and society evolves for many. Southern culture is quite complex and I feel I grew up in it but not OF it. I didn't participate in much of it but I recognize it. 

So now, when my children run across this worm in my display cabinet, they will know it's meaning. It's what this blog will be about.