“On August 14, 1791, a fearless Afrikan warrior queen named Cecille called together all the field slaves of the French sugar plantation island of Haiti (originally spelled ‘Ayiti ), to convene the launching of the most successful of all slave revolts…They performed the proper rituals in the ways of our ancestors, led by the vodun priest Boukman himself, forged the united front and agreed to commence hostilities in 8 days for what we must all celebrate and appreciate! The Haitian… ‘Ayitian…Revolution!…Long live the Ancestors of the Ayitian Revolution!”
“Kwame Toure (Stokely Carmichael)” by Muhammad Yugai
Ossie Davis - Eulogy for Malcolm X, February 27, 1965
Here, at this final hour, in this quiet place, Harlem has come to bid farewell to one of its brightest hopes, extinguished now and gone from us forever. For Harlem is where he worked and where he struggled and fought. His home of homes where his heart was and where his people are. And it is, therefore, most fitting that we meet once again in Harlem to share these last moments with him. For Harlem has ever been gracious to those who loved her, have fought for her and have defended her honor even to the dea th.
It is not in the memory of man that this beleaguered, unfortunate but nonetheless proud community has found a braver, more gallant young champion than this Afro-American who lies before us, unconquered still. I say the word again, as he would want me to: Afro-American. Afro-American Malcolm, who was a master, was most meticulous in his use of words. Nobody knew better than he the power words have over the minds of men. Malcolm had stopped being a ‘Negro’ years ago. It had become too small, too puny, too weak a word for him. Malcolm was bigger than that. Malcolm had become an Afro-American and he wanted so desperately that we, that all his people, would become Afro-Americans, too.
There are those who will consider it their duty, as friends of the Negro people, to tell us to revile him, to flee even, from the presence of his memory, to save ourselves by writing him out of the history of our turbulent times. Many will ask what Harlem finds to honor in this stormy, controversial and bold young captain. And we will smile. Many will say turn away, away from this man, for he is not a man but a demon, a monster, a subverter and an enemy of the black man. And we will smile. They will say that he is of hate, a fanatic, a racist who can only bring evil to the cause for which you struggle! And we will answer and say to them: Did you ever talk to Brother Malcolm? Did you ever touch him, or have him smile at you? Did you ever really listen to him? Did he ever do a mean thing? Was he ever himself associated with violence or any public disturbance? For if you did you would know him. And if you knew him you would know why we must honor him:
Malcolm was our manhood, our living, black manhood! This was his meaning to his people. Consigning these mortal remains to earth, the common mother of all, secure in the knowledge that what we place in the ground is no more now a man but a seed which, after the winter of our discontent, will come forth again to meet us. And we will know him then for what he was and is. A prince. Our own black shining prince who didn’t hesitate to die because he loved us so.
“But?!?! I Can’t Be Racist Because…” [SHORT FILM]
“But?!?! I Can’t Be Racist Because is the first short film brought to you by theliberatedzonetv to commemorate the 47th anniversary since Malcolm X’s assassination.
“But?!?! We Can’t Be Racist Because…” touches on the issues in a day-to-day and global context of white supremacy in order to try to open up the in-depth discussion and understanding that we need so desperately.
Is racism a thing of the past?
Are white people victims of racism too?
Do you feel uncomfortable/awkward when white people emulate Black culture?
Does Black culture ‘belong’ to everyone?
Does suffering in Africa have nothing to do with people living in Europe?
Are YOU aware of how you fit into the white supremacist structure enforced by imperialism?
CAN WE SPEAK OPENLY AND HONESTLY ABOUT RACISM?
Please use this as a resource and the comments by co-producers Shamim Kisakye, Iman Hussein and Lizzie Phelan in education establishments, youth and community groups and amongst your friends in order to open up the discussion about the modern day manifestations of white supremacy.
If you would like co-producers Iman Hussein, Shamim Kisakye and Lizzie Phelan to come and discuss this film in a community or institutional setting, please contact firstname.lastname@example.org
This film was made with NO funding. To support further work like this please donate via www.lizzie-phelan.blogspot.com
From Volume 2, #23, February 17, 1969 of the Black Panther Intercommunal News Service.
Many more to come from myself and http://nolan-kane.tumblr.com/
Malcolm X (May 19, 1925 – February 21, 1965), born Malcolm Little and also known as El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz الحاجّ مالك الشباز
I believe this picture is from his trip to the Middle East and West Africa, which eventually included a pilgrimage to Mecca.
Thanks to Karen for recommending her great post!
W.E.B. Du Bois meeting Mao Zedong
This is such an amazing picture
from the Black Power Mixtape; interviewer asks Angela Davis if she approves of violence.
the pain in her voice at the end…… sigh
“You ask me, you know, whether I approve of violence—I mean, that just doesn’t make any sense at all—whether I approve of guns. I grew up in Birmingham, Alabama. Some very, very good friends of mine were killed by bombs, bombs that were planted by racists. I remember—from the time I was very small, I remember the sounds of bombs exploding across the street, our house shaking. I remember my father having to have guns at his disposal at all times because of the fact that, at any moment, someone—we might expect to be attacked. The man who was at that time in complete control of the city government—his name was Bull Connor—would often get on the radio and make statements like “Niggers have moved into a white neighborhood; we better expect some bloodshed tonight.” And sure enough, there would be bloodshed. After the four young girls who were—who lived very—one of them lived next door to me. I was very good friends with the sister of another one. My sister was very good friends with all three of them. My mother taught one of them in her class. My mother—in fact, when the bombing occurred, one of the mothers of one of the young girls called my mother and said, “Can you take me down to the church to pick up Carole? You know, we heard about the bombing, and I don’t have my car.” And they went down, and what did they find? They found limbs and heads strewn all over the place. And then, after that, in my neighborhood, all the men organized themselves into an armed patrol. They had to take their guns and patrol our community every night, because they did not want that to happen again. I mean, that’s why when someone asks me about violence, I just—I just find it incredible, because what it means is that the person who’s asking that question has absolutely no idea what black people have gone through, what black people have experienced in this country, since the time the first black person was kidnapped from the shores of Africa.”
Our community has lost another great artist. Louis Reyes Rivera, prolific writer, poet, and activist, has passed.
For those who may not know much of Rivera, he was an influential educator and artist. Steeped in a Pan-African outlook and dedicated to teaching those around him, Louis made numerous literary contributions. Despite earning many accolades, he was always approachable. The winner of many literary awards came to be known as “The People’s Poet” through his embrace of issues of everyday folks. One of his sharpest points of focus was on the connection between African-American and Latino culture.
Rivera was born in New York City in 1945. Raised in Brooklyn, he would come to do some vital things in the world of activism. He was a key person in the struggle of Black and Puerto Rican students back in the 1960′s. Louis was a student leader in the 1969 takeover of City College, and the co-founder of The Paper, a student publication for people of color. Without the efforts of Rivera amongst others, generations of people of color would not have had the opportunity for higher education.
Always willing to reach back into the community and share his wealth of knowledge, Louis could often be found at a workshop or classroom. He would teach on the finer points of poetry, knowing your rights as a writer, and carrying forth the history of the oppressed through artistic means. He was a member of the National Writers Union and performed a piece at the 30th anniversary of the organization late last year. He held workshops at the Harlem Book Fair, and performed on Def Poetry.
Louis Reyes Rivera was a conduit of information, and inspired many artists and activists. He will definitely be missed. For paving the way for countless students of color to gain access to public higher education, I must say Rest in Power, and thank you. Rivera was 67 years old.
-Marc W. Polite