The evil that men do, lives after them, The good is oft-interred with their bones.
Today is the 4th of July and I see red,
white and blue everywhere, but still I wonder, where is my independence? Where, in
the madness of domestic terrorism, am I and my people free from targeted
racism? Where is this equality claimed to have been sanctioned for my
protection? Where is my freedom from persecution as a black woman? How am I
protected as a black queer woman?
Most recently, and tragically, the hate from my own community became viral when Marriage Equality was approved by the Supreme Court just a few days ago. I am usually not surprised by hatred, but the outpouring of viscous attacks on myself and my queer Sisters and Brothers from their own friends and family was hurtful to witness. Sadly, I wish I expected differently. As an advocate for queer people in the black community, I encountered a low key disdain for queer people that is very reminiscent of my experience living in the south. It is the smile in your face and the whispers behind your back. The more vocal the black queer community became about our right to freedom, the more reactions to our existence changed. Eventually, the pulpit condemnation spilled over into a low murmur in the church parking lot and into conversations in spaces we occupy. Once Marriage Equality was sanctioned, a loud and boisterous venomous stream of hate that felt like a barrage of vomit was projected from my own people.
Every July 4th I struggle with this concept of independence and freedom. So, this Fourth of July is a double stab to my heart. I am not free from terror in the land where I was raised. And my own people reject my right to be able to have the same legal protections as they have. I feel exasperated and frustrated. This year, I am heavyhearted and angry. As a black queer woman I wonder when this will change. Today I chose to reflect upon a speech that I taught for years as a high school English teacher, What to the Slave is the Fourth of July? written July 5, 1852.
The first time I read Frederick Douglass' What to the Slave is the Fourth of July? was about 30 years ago. When I began teaching, I incorporated the speech into a lesson plan about speeches, along with those of by John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King and Malcolm X. The lesson taught the power of speech making. In my opinion, Frederick Douglass' speech reigns supreme as one of the greatest speeches ever. After being asked to speak of his freedom, Douglass used that moment to passionately recognize his Sisters and Brothers who were still in bondage. With an exemplary command and usage of education and language, he most eloquently slammed the whites in the audience by pointing out how their invitation was duplicitous in nature and request. I am surprised that he wasn't later found dead. In today's society, I am not sure if that wouldn't happen. I was moved by his brave stance. Here is one of the speech's many powerful passages,
Fellow-citizens, pardon me, allow me to ask, why am I called upon to speak here to-day? What have I, or those I represent, to do with your national independence? Are the great principles of political freedom and of natural justice, embodied in that Declaration of Independence, extended to us? and am I, therefore, called upon to bring our humble offering to the national altar, and to confess the benefits and express devout gratitude for the blessings resulting from your independence to us?...I am not included within the pale of this glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you, this day, rejoice, are not enjoyed in common. — The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity and independence, bequeathed by your fathers, is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought life and healing to you, has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth [of] July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious irony.
You can read the entire speech here, What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?
Can you imagine the faces of the white audience members when they heard this eloquent denouncement of false liberty? In this excerpt, he manages to express my thoughts as a black woman in the 21st century. How can I feel free when the prisons are overflowing with my people, police terrorize us, we are challenged with systemic problems and white supremacist burn our churches? But these feelings are made even more difficult and doubly complex considering I need only look to my own community and feel equally at the mercy of vitriolic homophobic responses to Marriage Equality.
As many questions as I have for the white
patriarchal machine, I have one question for my own people. When will you acknowledge
queer people and our existence? In the wake of the Marriage Equality decision,
I find it necessary to remind you, my people, that while I am queer, the first
thing people see is my skin color. I am black to the masses. I am both black and queer and cannot
separate the two. Your struggle is
my own as much as it is yours. In fact, because I know our struggle so well, it
is even more painful to feel the venom directed from those whose hands I hold
in rage, solidarity and prayer as we meet the face of hate through white racist
attacks. We queer black people are your Grandmothers, Grandfathers, Fathers,
Mothers, Uncles, Aunts, Sisters and Brothers. When you hate us, you hate
yourselves. We need you as much as you need us. We walk this journey with you.
So, Sisters and Brothers, when you put on your
star spangled banner shorts, light your fireworks and eat your 4th of July
potato salad, remember that we are seated next to you at the table. We are in
your backyards playing spades. We are celebrating family while cock-tailing
over blue crabs. We are business owners, we get our hair cut in the barbershop/
salon with you. We are seated next to you at the bus stop and eating in the
same restaurants. And yes, we will be in the pew next to you Sunday morning,
in the pulpit and passing the collection plate. When you
bible thump and bash us, we hear you. Please know that you are doing exactly what
white patriarchal machine want you to do; divide us. We cannot have division in
our community. Further, we will never find the love that will unify us and
break the chains of mental slavery if we cannot love each other. Black queer
people deserve to pursue happiness. This black queer woman yearns, just
like you, to be respected and exercise my rights without hate, persecution and
violence. Freedom is what July 4th is supposed to mean. This means freedom to
be fully me; black, queer, mother, warrior, artist and entrepreneur. So stop
hating on your family members and love your children who are gay, lesbian,
bisexual, transgender and queer. Enjoy your cookout!
Patricia R. Corbett is a MFA student at Goddard College in Plainfield,Vermont, studying Interdisciplinary Arts.She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from Virginia Union University in Richmond, VA. Patricia is a artist, storyteller, professional writer, published author, womanist, educator, and motivational speaker. She utilizes storytelling, writing, speaking and networking to create paradigm shifts in education, business and the community.
Patricia's writing and artwork takes a critical view of social, political and cultural issues through storytelling. She self-identifies as a queer black woman whose projects challenge systemic societal problems, stereotypes, conventional thought/wisdom, religion and values. Patricia's quest is to expose and uplift the stories of marginalized populations while redefining what is aesthetically beautiful.
Patricia R. Corbett is a MFA student at Goddard College in Plainfield,Vermont, studying Interdisciplinary Arts.She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from Virginia Union University in Richmond, VA. Patricia is a artist, storyteller, professional writer, published author, womanist, educator, and motivational speaker. She utilizes storytelling, writing, speaking and networking to create paradigm shifts in education, business and the community.
Patricia's writing and artwork takes a critical view of social, political and cultural issues through storytelling. She self-identifies as a queer black woman whose projects challenge systemic societal problems, stereotypes, conventional thought/wisdom, religion and values. Patricia's quest is to expose and uplift the stories of marginalized populations while redefining what is aesthetically beautiful.
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