Black, Female & Christian in America – Part 1

Today marks the month-long celebration of Blacks’ contribution to this country. We begin the celebration by mourning the death of Don Cornelius who committed suicide at the age of 75 today. I have no words. The circumstances around his death are still unclear. All we know is that he had some health issues. Again, I have no words.

I am Black. I am Female. I am Christian.

I went to private schools most of my life; all Christian and predominately Black. Same is true for the churches I attended.

I grew up in Black neighborhoods. As a matter of fact, the house Elgin and I stayed in was minutes away from where Reginald Denny was beaten after the Rodney King verdict. I could have walked to the corner and watch the whole thing unfold. I wasn’t brave like Mother Newton’s son, Rev. Bennie Newton who stepped in between life and death and kept Mr. Denny alive. 

Elgin and I watched the city burn as the riots tore apart the City of Angels. We sought shelter at a friends place far from the smoke and gunshots.

As a kid, I remember government cheese and making the best grilled cheese sandwiches. I remember white boxed lunches from the Los Angeles Park and Recreation Department.

Red Tie Classmates From SMA Facebook Group

I went to high school in Inglewood, the Blood’s territory (signified by the color red), but lived near 89th and Compton Boulevard, Crips territory (signified by color blue). I went to an all girls Catholic high school and each class was represented by a specific color. My class was the graduating RED TIE class of 1987. I know God’s hand was on me when I would catch the bus from my Crips neighborhood, dressed in red from head to toe. I had my red tie, my red senior sweater, my red and white saddle shoes complete with huge red backpack. Gang members must have thought I was crazy and left me alone.

After church one Sunday night, Elgin and I made the stupid decision to get Taco Bell before going home. Because of its location, this Taco Bell didn’t bother to have a dine-in section; it was walk-up or drive thru. We walked up. A car full of gang members drove through the parking lot. One of the guys in the back held an assault weapon. They were looking for somebody. I’m just glad that somebody wasn’t there.

I remember listening to grown folk talk about political injustices and the excitement when Jesse Jackson announced he would run for president. The stories Nana Brown told me sounded like strange fiction. What do you mean you had to walk on the other side of the street?Stranger still is the story of Elgin’s grandfather. A slave, turned rich man whose family was killed in a suspicious fire. Elgin is here because he is the son of Mr. Alexander’s second family.

I remember watching Roots as a little thing. I’ve blocked out much of the movie because in all honesty I think it was too much too soon. As I grew older, I remember the anger that would rise within me after watching movies that had anything to do with slavery, lynchings, and circus courts pronouncing unheard of punishments to Black men and women. I’m OK now.

I was fortunate though.

Because I went to Black schools and attended Black churches; I know Black history. I was even taught the Negro National Anthem and yes, there is such a thing. Lift Every Voice and Sing by James Walden Johnson. I know our poets, our inventors, our politicians, our history makers.

Shortly after President Obama won the presidential election I called my father-in-law and we chatted. I won’t repeat everything from that conversation but he was in shock that a Black man had actually won the presidency. He didn’t think he would ever see the day.

This is what it is for me to be Black, Female and Christian in America.