Skip to main content

Then and Now

 With the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement and the spate of films this last year dealing with everything from the trial of the Chicago 7 to the life death of Black Panther Party leader Fred Hampton, there has been a lot of comparison between "the movement" then and now.  While the tough work of civil rights never went anywhere in the 70s, 80s, and 90s, the contrast between then and now does prove useful.

"What's different?" young pundits ask.  Those of us alive then are quick to reply.  There are major differences.  It seems as if today the people taking to the street to denounce the many questionable police shootings are more diverse than ever before. Black Lives Matter signs appear in every corner and nook of this country.  Despite the persistent existence of white supremacy groups from coast to coast, the evidence of support of black lives is not difficult to find.

Another important difference is the use of media and technology.  To be sure the role of the media in the early 60s was huge.  When a national audience saw fire hoses and police dogs deployed on people simply demanding their right to vote, minds changed; empathy took hold.  Today, however, we have video of everything...instantly.  That difference is huge.  We can mobilize through social media at lightning speed. I'm not sure if the positives outweigh the negatives of that, but it's definitely something we have to deal with today.

Given my specific experience and age, it's difficult for me to understand how some of the real advancements in education made during the 1960s have vanished.  I can't believe we are still struggling to get ethnic studies classes and curriculum restored.  Yes, we should integrate the history and cultures of all ethnic groups in this country into mainstream history courses, but it is still possible to achieve a 4-year college degree and know very little about slavery in the US or how Asian groups were excluded from owning property, or that Latinos were given separate days to enjoy public swimming pools in Los Angeles.  



In the late 1960s many colleges and universities offered the first Black history classes ever.  I was fortunate to be able to enroll in them at UCLA, where I attended from '67-'69.  I say fortunate because it took a fair amount of luck to get the classes in the first place. Taught by Dr. Ron Takaki, these upper-division history courses were packed to the gills.  Kareem-Abdul-Jabbar (then Lew Alcindor) was a history major and a notable standout sitting there at weekly lectures.  But, being in LA,  the entertainment industry was represented as well.  I often sat next to Wallace Albertson, the wife of Jack Albertson, a noted actor who aside from major movies went on ad starred in the popular 60s sit-com "Chico and the Man."  Eddie Anderson Jr. was in that class as well.  The son of Eddie Anderson, who played Jack Benny's sidekick, *Rochester, was among those in regular attendance.  

You'd be hard-pressed to find those classes today.

*Rochester was Jack Benny's man Friday.  Of course, he reflected the racial stereotypes of a servant and comical "Negro," but he also used his comic genius as a foil for the ultra-stingy Benny. That too was a stereotype. Benny had one of the most popular radio and then early television programs ever.  This reference is lost on those born after 1970 or so.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Writing on the Wall

       The first time I saw graffiti that was memorable was in a middle school bathroom.  As 6th graders I often walked home with friends by the middle school we'd soon be attending.  A stop by the boys bathroom near the boys gym placed me face to face with a piece of graffiti that immediately madame and my friends laugh uncontrollably.  On the wall above the urinals, was penned a short poem that read"                     This is a Teepee to take a pee pee,                         Not a wigwam to beat your tom tom      14 year-old humor at it's best.  The laughter my friends and I experienced was cathartic.  Being bottom of the barrel Freshmen could have dire consequences in the boys bathroom.  Those unpleasantries would come later, but for the moment, we were ecstatic and proceeded to read all the g...

The Quality of Optimism

 I've returned to The Book of Qualities, by J Ruth Gentler once again to meet the needs of one of the senior students in my little Writing From Memory class I'm currently teaching in my local community center.  This little volume personifies various concepts and personality traits.  The particular student "in need" seems to be fixated on writing about her past relationships.  Apparently, there were many.   I'm OK with that.  I only hope that she picks a few qualities that are as revealing about herself as those that might describe her Ex's.  There is much to be learned by writing about a quality.  The aforementioned book seems to have survived well over the years.  I first encountered it and its author way back in the late 1970s.  I took a journal writing workshop from her.  Then, a few years later, her book came out and I introduced these writing exercises to my students.  11th grade Juniors seemed to do the best with it. ...

Non-Reader

"The man hasn't read a book in years." I keep hearing that about the current occupant of the White House.  Maybe that's as it should be because recent studies say that claim goes for over half the population of this country.  Scary but true.  It's obvious that the President doesn't know the history of this country.  Examples abound. Even for those who can forgive him for inventing the African country of Nambia (he referred to that the other day) the fact that he knows very little about American History doesn't seem sway his followers.  Either they know nothing too or they simply don't care.  Probably both.  Yet, the notion of ignoring history and repeating mistakes looms large all the while. A former colleague of mine, who taught Language Arts for a lifetime used to have a large banner in her classroom. When kids came into this learning environment they saw a sign which read, "Unless We Read, We Live But One Tiny Life." I'd love to hea...